Monster Gratitude

Seven Summits – Mt. Kilimanjaro - as experienced by Donna Carrigan

20 days ago on the rooftop of Africa I had the most beautiful moment of my life. Mt Kilimanjaro served me a piece of humble pie and provided me with a view from the top that made it easy to swallow.

White. Baby clouds white. Dollie White. Fluffy White Kitten White. White white white. The sun shone on my cheeks and glaciers and rolling clouds surrounded me as far as my eyes could reach. I was in a frozen sea of white. I felt like I was inside heaven. Or a giant ever expanding home made marshmallow. Or precisely all of those things at exactly the same time. To speak of the sense of wonderment that filled my body fills my eyes with tears. I can only begin to hint at the greatness of this moment 19,340 feet above the sea, to the frozen sea. The summit of Mt.Kilimanjaro. Filling my tear ducts was a combination of the struggle it was to get to the top and the sheer beauty of the landscape.

Overtaken with joy and nausea, gravity opted for me to sit down on a lonely rock. My head heavy, fell to my feet. My body considered which direction my shoulders would fall if I fainted. My headache was growing and already was splitting the back of my head in two. Just like the honey dew melon halves you see plastic wrapped at the grocery store.

With a deep breath at 70% oxygen my air felt cut short. I felt the panic in my breath that one time I went scuba diving off Ogden Point with my friend Ryan. My buoyancy was all wrong and I was shooting to the surface and forgot for a moment I was on air. My chest felt heavy under an atmosphere of pressure and Ryan reached his hand for me to right my floatation. It calmed me. My breathing calmed to normal. But here I wasn’t underwater and no one was there to reach for my hand. The glacial giants made me feel less alone but I still felt panic. My porter had gone and so had my oxygen tank. My head was pounding and I was fixated on trying to take a deep breath. Maybe 65%. The scenery in my peripheral view distracted me for a moment. The pain seem surreal and giving up on feeling full of O2, I took another half breath and puffed my chest up from the rock. Lifting my chin up into the sky I took another look across the horizon, over my pink nose, of the melting glaciers that surround Uhuru peak, the peak they call Tanzania’s ‘Freedom’ in Swahili.

“This is it” I thought. “Enjoy it” Holding my head up, my vision became wobbly. I felt like I was back in my sailboat playing in the waves. For a moment I was chasing a BC ferry into Pender Island’s Otter Bay Marina, like two summers ago. This waking day dream was a sign that my time at the top was over. My weak knees echoed the thought by beginning to shake uncontrollably. The severe reaction I’d had to Diamox, an altitude drug prescribed to those who attempt high altitude, was raging its effects on me. Delirium, rash, swollen face, nausea, cold sweats…. I was at the point of exhaustion and my body began shaking top to bottom. I knew I had to keep moving and so I turned to the crater and started my decent down the mountain.

As quickly as I saw heaven, it was now behind me, forever preserved. With the moment tucked in my pocket, I could only think of how not to vomit on myself, a danger especially in the cold, and brain power went to how to get my legs to move more consistently.

In hindsight I was risking a great deal strolling the edge of the crater, so delirious, but needed to hike to Stella point where a deep decent awaited. My teammate called out to me, and I found the echo of his voice absorbed in the vacuum of high elevation: “Donna! Donna! ” “Stay to the left!” in his British accent Sam’s voice came to me, clear as a bell.

It was a real warning, I was delirious and wavering along the edge of a steep trail that offered to take me down the side of the mountain at the speed of my existence. “To the left!” I responded with a swagger and then picked up speed. “With Thanks Sam” Deep breath. One more. “‘I don’t feel well”.

“This is how climbers die on Everest.” I think to myself. The combination of driving forward to the summit (summit fever, I suspect) and altitude sickness (the fog of reason, I can tell you with all certainty) made it so the energy needed to climb down the mountain had been forgotten, or seemed absolutely unimportant.

After this thought, the adrenaline of the summit left my body and suddenly I became very cold. I could feel my bones.

That was my last real memory from the summit. Three porters, a tank of oxygen and two slips in and out of consciousness, continued waking hallucinations and a bashed knee was the recipe required to deliver me to camp.

My next memory is holding my head in my hands between my legs. The head splitting had turned into general mashing about with a sledge hammer in all sorts of directions. I am back at camp and despite the noise in my cranium I find myself retelling a blur of memory: an interrupted fall down the mountain in three places, all from exhaustion. Chicken brought to me in tinfoil. A juice box. Defeated, I negotiated the thought that we still had another three hour hike ahead of us to the next camp. My team mates doting on me and supporting me as best they could. Liquid gel advil, warm water easy to swallow for my swollen face.

Honestly, all I could think was three words: “Don’t climb Everest.”

And as sea level came closer, the Mt. Kilimanjaro python that wrapped around my brain slowly let go of its pressure. The lower altitude a silent beacon cooing for it to let go and make room for the next ego filled climber. Soon my thoughts began to expand past three words. My rational now so full of oxygen it announced directly to my eardrums that this was likely the best thing that had ever happened to me.

Why the best ‘thing’? It was the best thing because all told it was the most beautiful experience of my life. And by beautiful I mean that I was given the rare opportunity to push my physical limit and yet feel the absolute safety of a team, which allowed me to cheat the odds and crawl to the roof of Africa. It was beautiful because our hearts were reaching the summit for a cause meaningful to each one of us. The cause: the Power To Be Adventure Therapy Society. It was beautiful because my headache was so intense on Summit day that I couldn't put my pants on. It was so beautiful because I could use the word beautiful eight million times and I would still be describing it.

I was gifted a high altitude lesson from the fourth highest of the seven summits: I learned that if I feel safe, I can push all the limits.

And for that, I have monster gratitude.

A very special thank you to every one on the Power to Climb Team, who each in their own way contributed to my summmit by creating the space for emotional and physical safety. A life time of memories - you are all absolutely da best.

Uhuru Peak. Freedom Peak.

When I discovered Uhuru was Swahili for “Freedom”, I could not think of a more perfect word to sum up this journey. At 5896 meters, Uhuru Peak is the highest point on Mt. Kilimanjaro, and the true summit of the roof of Africa. I’m happy to say that several days ago, our whole team stood together on this very summit. More importantly, I’m happy to say that each of us is walking away from this having had an incredible and positive life experience. And neither of these things could have been achieved without the selflessness and genuine concern for each other’s well being that was brought to the table by all.

This is truly one of the best teams I have had the pleasure to be a part of, and I feel extremely fortunate that I was able to share this experience with such a remarkable group. It’s amazing how when you have a clear idea of what you want, and you put it out to the world, it can act as a beacon bringing like-minded people together around a common cause.

What started for me as a journey to climb a mountain, has taught me that there’s nothing more important and empowering than friendship. The other thing it taught me is that you never know who you may inspire along the way, no matter how trivial an action may seem. Thank you to all those who supported our cause, and thank you to the youth I have come to know in Power To Be’s ‘family’ - thank you for inspiring me. This is just the end of the beginning.

Mike Schauch

The road to Kilimanjaro

This is not where I pictured myself sitting last May when I agreed to join the group from Power to Be in their bid to climb Kilimanjaro. However here I sit in my office at home on the same day they start their climb.
Climbing Kilimanjaro has been a 35 year dream of mine. Honestly it has been more like a love affair. Why of all the mountains in the world this one? Well I like to say that's a simple answer but it isn't.For now let us just say that it was an impossible dream when the love affair started. I am not a person to say that I have had a hard life. My life has been harder then some and easier then others. Until just a few short years ago Kilimanjaro to me was just a pipe dream. Oh, I talked about it and even daydreamed what it would be like but never really believed that it would ever happen. When I was told I had lung cancer I still refused to give up this dream. I knew the chances of me ever climbing Kilimanjaro were slim but heh who was it hurting to hang on to this silly idea anyways. Cancer and I had an amazing journey where I was given the chance to start becoming the person I always knew I could be. Cancer taught me to let go of my anger and to live each day as if it was my first and my last. Most of all it taught me to soften the walls around my heart.After five years of dealing with cancer I was told that I was cancer free. What a relief those words were to hear. I hadn't thought much about Kilimanjaro during that time and it wasn't until one rainy Saturday morning two years later that the subject had come up.
I had enrolled a team in an endurance race being held by this group called "Power to Be". I really knew nothing about them. I was asked if I would help set up the course and that this guy named Tim would meet me Saturday morning.Well we met and talked for about five minutes, Tim told me about "Power to be" and I knew that this was not only a cause I could support but was also a man I could see as a life long friend. We decided it was raining to hard to set up the course and that we would try again later. Then out of the blue Tim told me that they were also organizing a trip to climb Kilimanjaro in January to raise money for Power to Be. I told him right then that I would be going! Here it was a chance to fulfil my dream and make a difference at the same time. Wow, could it get any better.Over the next six months I got to meet most of the rest of the team and to really grow to love them. These are people who put their hearts into what they believe in.I also got the chance to grow as a person by learning to stay connected with them,something I haven't been good at in the past.
The last week of November came and we had a real rainy couple of weeks.I caught at the time what I thought was a cold. The cold over the next couple of weeks keep getting worse even though the doctors put me on all kinds of medince. In the end I wound up in the hospital with pneumonia. The doctor told me that it wasn't a good idea to climb for at least a month to six weeks.I can honestly say that in that moment I was crushed.Here I was just a week away from fulfilling a life long dream and it was taken from me,so I thought.
That night I prayed. I am a man who not only believes in God but also has a one on one relationship with him. So I am sure you can guess what I asked. "Why?"
I am not one to feel sorry for myself so the question was asked o try and understand.The answer I got in return surprised me. I found that all these years that i had daydreamed about climbing Kilimanjaro I had never once dreamed of the mountain.It was always the people that I climbed the mountain with. I know you might say "OK, but now you aren't climbing the mountain with them either." That's what I said at first too. I meditate every day and the following morning this is what came to me. The mountain was never about climbing to the summit,it was about being part of something greater than myself, I found inside of me that I didn.t need to be on the mountain with my new family in order to be part of their experience. In the past when the chose had been made to not do something I would just quit trying to be apart of it and withdraw back into myself. This time by choosing to do things to help make the trip a better experience for those who are going I found that I changed my life for the better. The out pouring of love and support of my fellow team mates was heart touching. I found that it is not about showing up in person but is about showing up in heart. Do I miss being on the mountain with my friends today? No,I miss my friends. I know I am there in their hearts as they are here in mine.

Live,Laugh,Love Shean

Moshi, Tanzania - Sunday, January 3, 2010

We arrived safely at midnight at our lodge in Moshi on January 1st 2010! Yesterday our guides took us on a tour of Moshi town where we were able to sample the local markets and culture – a quaint town with very beautiful people! Pop ~160,000.

Today things got a bit more serious with orientation day on the agenda – guides took us through the itinerary and conducted a gear check. We’re off on our 7-day trek in 15 hrs – big hug to all of our supporters at home – wish us luck!