A short read of what the north side actually is — and what it changes.
Roughly 35,000 to 40,000 people climb Kilimanjaro every year. Almost all of them come up the south side — Marangu, Machame, the established commercial routes — and almost all of them exit the same crater rim at sunrise. The pressure on a small number of paths is the story most people inherit when they hear "Kilimanjaro." The north face is a different mountain.
Jim has been spending time on this north-side idea for several years now — six visits to the mountain across that window, a relationship with TANAPA, the park rangers, and the guides that's been built one season at a time. He's the catalyst. The park service and the guides flew the line from the air, walked the pieces, and stitched them together into a route that exists because Jim kept showing up to ask whether it could.
The structure of the climb itself: a camp at roughly 14,000 feet (Moir), 15,000 (Nyati), 17,000 (Advanced Base Camp), 18,800 (Crater Camp), summit at 19,341, helicopter extraction off Barafu at 16,000. Not technically severe. Just deliberately vertical and quiet in a way the south-side conga line never is.
The Reusch Ash Pit — the cinder cone, 140 metres deep, floor still warm — sits inside the crater as the geological centre of the film. The Lava Tower, the volcanic plug at 15,223 feet, sits as a play-beat on the way up. What the route does, beyond the climb itself, is open the possibility of a different relationship with the mountain for a different cohort of climber — and, eventually, take some weight off the south side.