The Climb – Trekking Upward

40. Climbing Mt. Atilan

It felt good to sleep in on our transfer day. After breakfast and strapping our bags to the top of our bus, we were off for the four-hour ride to Lake Atilan. We were all in a good mood and singing along to the motivational playlist Zoe constructed of our individual choices. The beautiful scenic drive and laughter along the way made the time pass quickly. We came around a corner in the road and laid out ahead were beautiful volcanic peaks. Shortly, the bus driver pulled over at an overlook of Lake Atilan. We all piled out to take in the majestic site before us. As I gazed upon the towering peaks rising from the surface of the water, it was as if a huge wave knocked me over. The thought that the next day I would be climbing one of those peaks overwhelmed me to the core. I had serious thoughts of signing off and sitting this one out. I remembered the words of the Psalmist David in Psalm 121.

I look to the mountains; where will my help come from?

My help will come from the Lord, who made heaven and earth. GNT

There was a platform overlooking the lake, and I walked briskly toward it. I knelt on my knees and hid my face in my hands. In that moment, I lifted my thoughts to a Power greater than myself, earnestly asking for the strength I needed to face the challenge of the next day.

We took group pictures and boarded back on the bus to a minimart where I withdrew some local currency from an ATM while the others got food, snacks, and drinks for the boat ride to our next hotel. The crossing was a lot of fun as we slowly crossed the lake. I chose a perfect spot with a chair looking out the back of the boat and Vinnie sat in a chair beside me. The mood was buoyant and cheerful as we enjoyed our snacks, beverages and camaraderie.

Boat ride across Lake Atilan with Vinnie

The grounds of our hotel were beautiful with lush, tropical plants and pretty views from our rooms. Once settled in, we set off for a taco dinner and enjoyed the local sites and sounds along the way. The shops had colorful Mayan items that offered fun souvenirs to take home. The streets were noisy with the many Tuk-tuks that raced by. After filling up on tacos, we set out for a little walking tour of the town. I chose to buy two apples from a colorful fruit stand to take in my daypack the next day. I enjoyed seeing the street vendor’s wares, the families with their small children and the interesting architecture, especially the Spanish Cathedral.

That evening before going to bed, Zoe asked us to gather at a spot near the lake. She offered us an opportunity to share what was in our hearts and thoughts while we were in the midst of this epic challenge. When it was my turn, I hesitated as I wasn’t sure I could articulate my innermost thoughts very clearly. I was very emotional and garbled out some thought fragments that probably didn’t make sense to anyone but me. But I found it very meaningful to hear what others had to say. Dealing with Parkinson’s Disease brings loss and grief that must be processed and this was an opportunity to hear the stories of others traveling a similar path.

When I woke the next morning, I felt rejuvenated and ready to take on the mountain. We were instructed to be at the hotel restaurant by 2:30 to pick up our preordered breakfast and lunch for the day’s climb. Then we headed to our transportation site where pick-up trucks were waiting for us. I was granted a seat inside the cab which I gladly accepted. The others jumped into the beds of the trucks, and we were on our way. It was very dark and chilly outside, and I was glad to be inside the truck.

The journey to the trailhead took approximately 20 minutes. When the trucks came to a stop along the road, everyone got out and began preparing for the hike ahead. Luisa had arranged a porter to carry my daypack, so I handed it over before we set off. Each member of our group wore a headlight that illuminated the path in the early morning darkness.

After snapping a group photo, we were off. The darkness limited our vision, and the only part of the trail visible was the section lit by our headlights. At first, the path felt more like a deep ditch, but the trail was not as steep as I had anticipated. Above us, the moon and stars peeked through the canopy of trees, adding a quiet beauty to the experience. Lauren had a fascinating app that identified the constellations overhead. I had no sense of time, and I couldn’t say exactly when we stopped for breakfast. However, I recall that it was still early, with the first light of dawn beginning to break through the trees. I ate a banana and half of the black bean and scrambled egg burrito I had requested. I gave my porter the vegetable selection I requested for lunch.

With the light of day, I could see that we were trekking through what looked like a jungle. It reminded me of my time in the jungles of Cambodia many decades ago. The trail was also a lot steeper now and I had to watch every step I took. All along the way were very beautiful flowers. It had warmed up so I took off my jacket but kept my liner gloves on. I kept a middle-of-the pack position as the group separated into three sections. We stopped frequently along the way to take rest and snack breaks.

When we stopped for lunch, I ate the remaining half of my burrito. As I was eating it, I noted a tiny worm on my thigh where the burrito rested in my hand. Jo admonished me to forgo eating the remainder of the burrito. I didn’t know if the worm was from the burrito or had fallen from a tree but either way I didn’t feel that eating a worm would hurt me and I could use the protein. LOL

As we continued, the trail got steeper and the air got thinner. Before long, we were high enough to see through clearings to the lake below. I was needing get-my-breath breaks more often now but still doing okay and I knew I would make the peak. Eventually we broke through the tree line, and the trail became very steep with little switchbacks all the way to the top. The ground was very rocky with volcanic gravel making it slippery. The group spread out as each hiker struggled to keep going. We could clearly see the lake below, but all our focus was on getting to the top. My pace had slowed down to that of a slug, but I was still going, still panting, still determined to get there.

Luisa was poised at the crest and took pictures of each of us as we reached the top. I had made it! I had done something truly remarkable in that at 70 years old and living with PD for almost 9 years I had achieved the Three Volcano Challenge with no more help than a porter to carry my overnight gear on Acatenango and my daypack on Atilan. I was overcome with emotion and felt gratitude for all the support and love that had been shown to me. I had carried a list of my supporters in my pack up each volcano and took the list from my pack to photograph it. Then I took a picture with Vinnie and Luisa.

Arriving at the crest of the top of Mt. Atilan

I was beyond exhausted and looked for a place to sit down. I spied a rock with a vent producing a warm vapor. I sat there taking in perhaps the most incredible, majestic and gorgeous 360-degree panorama I have ever seen. In my exhausted, neurochemically depleted, and glucose deprived state, I felt alone, isolated and sad. While these feelings are common to people with PD, they were not familiar to me. The metaphor of the mountain was not lost on me as I contemplated the realization that I had reached the peak and it was all downhill from here. I would have to face what age and PD were doing to me. I tried to memorize the view in my mind, knowing that I would not see anything like this again.

Zoe came over to check on me and asked if she could sit with me. Perhaps she sensed how I was feeling or perhaps she recognized something she had seen in her father who was living with PD longer than I have. I assured her I was okay. Then Jerry came over and offered me some bites of his chocolate bar. I gladly accepted his offer. I truly believe that those bites of chocolate gave me just what I needed to get my keister off that rock and join the group for celebratory pictures. All twelve of us had made it. Now that is something to be proud of and celebrate!

The four hikers living daily with PD. Me, Jay, Mark and Devon

Our descent began later in the afternoon than we had planned, which meant we would be navigating the trail as daylight faded. Although going downhill required less raw energy than climbing up, the challenge shifted to maintaining balance on the slippery path. I adopted a side-step technique, keeping my trekking poles close to my body to counteract gravity and prevent myself from falling.

Fatigue was evident among all of us, and many members of the group took tumbles along the way. Thankfully, none of the falls resulted in serious injury. As we continued down, the sky was transformed by a stunning sunset, its pink and orange hues casting a beautiful glow over the landscape.

With darkness settling in, I put on my headlight to illuminate the trail for the last stretch. After fourteen arduous hours, we completed the final volcano, bringing our remarkable journey to a close.

That evening, as we gathered around the dinner table, I felt in a fog. My communication, socializing, mood regulation and even thinking were off. Fortunately, the others were functioning better than I was and we gave Vinnie and Luisa a nice gratuity and offered big thanks for being the best guides in Guatemala. Five of the group were leaving early the next morning so we said our goodbyes to them. The rest of us were spending extra time at Lake Atilan before returning home.

The boat transfer to our respective resorts on Lake Atilan was fun for the seven of us who were staying on a few days after the climb. Jo and I were dropped off first at Isla Verde, a virtual garden resort recommended by my friend Ana Boza. Later that afternoon we relaxed with a massage session we had booked before our trip. For dinner, we met up with the others to enjoy one last dinner together. Lauren and Zoe treated me to a celebratory Margharita as we circled up on a beach and recounted many fun times over the week.

Over the three days after the climb, I was able to recover much of my strength both physical and mental. While climbing very high volcanoes may be over, I will continue to climb mountains. I will still find many ways to advocate for the PD community. I will continue to live a vibrant and meaningful life.

I want to express my heartfelt gratitude to the Michael J Fox Foundation for providing me with this extraordinary opportunity. Not only did this experience allow me to accomplish a significant physical feat, but it also offered a valuable chance for introspection and helped guide me toward new directions in life.

I am deeply thankful to the eleven other members of our team. Their unwavering support and enthusiastic encouragement played a crucial role as I faced the challenges of this journey. Every step was made easier knowing I was surrounded by such a dedicated and caring group.

Additionally, I am profoundly appreciative of all those who contributed to my campaign, join me on my local hikes, and continue to offer friendship and encouragement in my daily life. The love and support I have received has been invaluable and has made this achievement even more meaningful.

I was able to raise $11,600 and collectively the group raised over $135,000 dollars. ONE HUNDRED PERCENT of these funds goes directly to research seeking an end to Parkinson’s Disease.

Acatenango Volcano

39. Acatenango

39. Climbing Acatenango Volcano

The morning of the second hike, breakfast was scheduled for 7:00 a.m. with a planned departure at 8:00 a.m. Since we would be spending the night on the mountain, we had to pack all our belongings and store them at the hotel. I had done most of the work of getting my daypack, the overnight gear pack for the porter and my stored luggage ready before I went to bed. After breakfast, we were provided sandwich items to pack our own lunch for the trek. I made a half sandwich of pesto, cheese and lettuce, added an orange and a snack size bag of nuts to complete the lunch meal and went to my room to brush my teeth. After everything for the group was stored, we boarded the bus and headed off for the day’s adventure. I knew this hike would be a big challenge and had mixed feelings of excitement yet apprehension.

It was a pleasant ride to the trailhead, and I was wowed by the beautiful mountain scenery we passed through. Our guides, Luisa and Vinnie introduced me to the porter who was to carry my overnight gear. They also met with porters who would be trekking along with us and carrying the gear the group would need. We took group pictures and the day’s journey began. It was a pleasant morning with a cool temperature and overcast sky. The trail started through what seemed to be farmland with a narrow path protected on either side with barbed wire. As we went up higher it changed to dense forest lush with tropical greenery and flowers. Right at the beginning, I felt my gait was off with my right leg requiring more strength to move it and mild pain in my sciatic area. I wasn’t worried as this is a frequent happening for me and it has always smoothed out after 20-30 minutes.

Ready to take on Acatenango. Group including porters and guides.

The trail soon became very steep with areas of large stairs carved out of the ground or areas of vertical trail that had a fine gravel over the dark soil. We were starting out at around 8,500 ft. elevation so the altitude contributed to my shortness of breath. We made a short stop at a place with benches and a pretty view of the valley. I was hoping my right leg would be easier to move but for some reason it did not get better for most of the way to our end destination. This made the climb even more difficult than I had expected. We were less than a mile up the trail and I was already out of breath and tired. Ugh!

The group spread out with those able to go faster at the head and the slower ones bringing up the rear. I stayed mostly in the middle of the group. I welcomed the breaks along the way and by about halfway to our destination was ready for a lunch break. I ate my sandwich and passed my orange off to my porter. I shared with him some of the energy snacks I had added to my pack as well.

After lunch, we pressed on to our destination. I was grateful for Lauren and Zoe, the two hikers in their 20’s who stayed with me for a lot of the trail to make sure I was doing okay. Lauren offered to sing or tell stories to distract my mind from the demands the climb was making on my body. I was struggling just to breathe. How did she have the energy and breath to talk and even sing! Oh, how I marveled at the energy of youth and wondered why I thought that at 70 years old I could take on this challenge. Not only was I struggling with the physical demands but the mental challenge was starting to wear me down.

If things were difficult already they only got worse. As we got higher in elevation and farther along on the trail the weather conditions really deteriorated. It shifted to being cold, damp, windy and at times it was raining. We stopped to put rain covers over our daypacks and I put on gloves and a wind breaker. As long as I was moving, I stayed warm except for my hands. They got so cold I could not move my fingers. It was all I could do to grip my hiking poles. My gait was still off. We were probably at 11,000 ft. elevation and I was exhausted and struggling to move upward. Vinnie offered to carry my pack, but when I resisted, he insisted. The independent warrior inside myself was struggling to accept help as I wanted to carry my own weight, but I knew it was the right thing to do.

As we continued our ascent, Vinnie offered words of encouragement, assuring us that the trail ahead would become less steep and more manageable. Up to this point, we had been climbing directly up the mountain, pushing ourselves with every step. Now, the path shifted direction, and we began to traverse across the cone of the mountain, maintaining an elevation roughly 1,000 to 1,500 feet below the summit.

Although the incline eased somewhat, the trail became no less demanding. The narrow path clung to the side of a rocky, treacherous slope, requiring complete focus and caution. Each step had to be deliberate, and I found myself concentrating intensely on where to place my feet and hiking poles to maintain my balance and ensure my safety. (If you zoom in on the second picture, I’m just behind Vinnie in the gray jacket with a hood and no pack.)

Luisa described our lodging for the night as cabins and there would be an outhouse with a toilet. She promised brand new sleeping bags on mattresses, and pillows for our heads. We were looking forward to hot chocolate and cookies before being served a hot supper. It was getting closer to sunset, and I was eager to arrive at our destination for the night. I wanted to step inside a cabin where I would be protected from the wind and rain. Perhaps I could crawl into a sleeping bag before supper and warm up. I could at least take off my wet wind breaker and put on the warm rain jacket I had packed in the overnight gear bag.

Finally, we were there. Yay! But to our dismay, the “cabins” were plywood shacks with corrugated metal roofs. There were upper and lower platforms where the mattresses were placed side by side. Wooden slats were nailed to the posts to create a ladder to access the upper level. The flooring was bare dirt, now wet from the rain. There was no outhouse. The visibility was poor through the dense clouds. To top it off, the shacks were locked and we would have to wait for Luisa to get the keys to unlock the doors. Someone found one of the shacks open, so we went inside and sat on a bench to wait for the rest of the group to arrive.

We had only been at the shacks for around 10 minutes when Luisa arrived with urgent news. She informed everyone that Devon, a forty-four-year-old woman who has been living with Parkinson’s Disease for nine years, was missing. The announcement prompted immediate concern among the group, and Luisa explained that we needed to find her.

Given my exhausted physical state after the strenuous day’s hike, I knew I would not be able to join the rescue mission. My mind raced through various possibilities, imagining different scenarios that might explain her disappearance. Fortunately, after about ten tense minutes, Devon was found safe and sound. The group was reunited at the overnight site, and there was a collective sense of relief. Devon explained that she had taken a “nature stop” and accidentally followed a divergent trail. Realizing her mistake, she retraced her steps and managed to find her way back to the correct path. What a trooper she was as she didn’t even seem winded after all the extra effort!

Once Luisa unlocked the shacks, we went inside to claim a sleeping spot and place our packs on the ground. Through the row of windows at the top of the front wall, we noticed some patches of blue sky and were relieved to have a break in the weather. There was an open-air pavilion with two walls and a metal roof strategically located with a perfect view of Fuego. We were able to see black smoke rising from it’s crater about every 15-20 minutes following it’s eruptions. I was still very cold and parked myself in the corner of the two walls looking for as much protection from the wind as possible.

The setting sun provided a beautiful view full of color and texture. My fingers were not working good enough to take my own pictures, so I hoped the others would share their pictures later. I sipped on hot chocolate as I watched my teammates posing in the brilliant glow of the setting sun. The porters brought firewood to start a fire, but it was damp thus making it hard for the wood to lite. Jay, a 59-year-old man with Parkinson’s Disease, took charge of fire making. He skillfully placed the kindling and the sustaining pieces of wood to get it going. Finally, Jay asked if anyone had hand sanitizer. He wanted to use it as an accelerant to get a blaze going. That worked and soon there was a nice campfire going that emitted welcome heat. However, it also produced a lot of smoke which seemed to follow me no matter where I was.

The sky on fire with Fuego in the background

While we were enjoying the sunset, Luisa and Vinnie and the porters were busy cooking our supper. They went to the extra effort to have a vegetarian meal for me consisting of rice and grilled vegetables. It was delicious and I ate til I was full. Once it was dark, we got to see Fuego’s red lava bursting forth from its peak in a fiery display of bright red illuminations. Unfortunately, there was still a lot of cloud that distorted the spectacular view. It was still a thrilling sight to behold.

Since we were tired and since we were planning to get up around 4:00 a.m. to hike to the summit to see the sunrise, we decided to go to bed. Most of us decided to forgo brushing our teeth or changing into sleepwear. The lack of a proper restroom meant we had no choice but to relieve ourselves on the ground beside the shack. Of course there was no privacy screen. LOL The cold, damp air made staying warm a priority, and fortunately, there were a few extra sleeping bags in the shack. We unzipped these and spread them out over ourselves as top blankets, grateful for the additional insulation they provided.

Michelle, a 56-year-old woman hiking in honor of her sister, lay right next to me. Throughout the night, we edged closer together, sharing body heat to stay as warm as possible. I kept on both layers of shirts and all three pair of pants I had worn during the hike, including my rain pants. My sleeping spot was at the end of the platform, so I placed my rain jacket beside me for easy access in case I needed it during the night. For a pillow, I used the packing cube that had held my change of clothes, making do with the limited comforts available which weren’t very comfortable. I felt especially thankful for the pair of slip-on shoes I had packed, as they made it much easier to step outside for the one time I needed to use the “bathroom” during the night.

It was a rough night. I must have dozed off right away and slept for a few hours. After I got up to go to the bathroom, I had trouble falling back to sleep. The wind rattled the roof such that it sounded like a pack of rats were scrambling around above us. Or maybe someone was throwing marbles on the roof making a loud racket. Fuego erupted frequently with loud explosions each time. Some of the women had to get up more than once during the night to go outside.

Luisa was checking the weather conditions during the night and finally decided it was too windy, cloudy, and cold to try and go to the summit. Not so secretly I was happy about her decesion. As the light of dawn shined through the windows of our shelter, we were already awake. Shortly thereafter, the guys paid us a visit, and we laughed at the tales each reported on their night’s experience. The guides and porters brought coffee and hot chocolate to us while we were still in the sleeping bags. We got up around 5:30 a.m. and made the decision to skip breakfast and get on the trail to descend the mountain. I needed a little something to eat to avoid getting sick from taking my medicine on an empty stomach. Luisa brought me a cup of potato salad that I managed to consume while I was packing my bag, putting on my boots, and finding warm gloves and a headband to wear. Once the group was ready, we took a picture and started our descent.

Ready to head down the mountain. All smiles from this group.

Going down a steep trail can often be harder than going up. Once again I had to watch every foothold and pole placement. The weather was much better than it had been on the trek up the mountain. It didn’t take nearly as long to get down the mountain than it had taken to get up the mountain. I was glad when we all were on board our bus and heading to a macadamia nut farm to have breakfast or by then it was lunch. I don’t know how long the drive was but was very happy when we got to the destination.

The restaurant was nestled among beautiful trees and shrubbery. Our group’s long table was in an open-air room, creating a sense of being in a garden. When I read the menu, I noted that breakfast items could be ordered all day. I spied macadamia nut waffles and instantly knew that my energy deprived body was craving the feel-good effect of carbs. When my stack of macadamia nut-butter drizzled waffles arrived, the group said there was no way I would eat all of them. They were wrong. I devoured every morsel and had room to snack on the French fries ordered for the table. My mood was buoyed as we traveled back to our hotel in Antigua.

Our garden lunch table. Glad to be off the mountain and getting food.

It felt so good to be back at the hotel. After reclaiming our luggage from the storage center, Jo, my tentmate from the Kilimanjaro climb and now hotel mate, and I sorted out the dirty clothes we had accumulated over the past few days and started a load of laundry in the washing machine in our suite. I found places around the room to hang the wet gear in hopes that it would dry out by the next morning. Jo and I took turns taking a much needed and refreshing shower. It is amazing how a shower can adjust one’s attitude.

Wrapped up in a blanket at the rooftop restaurant.

It was dark when we set out for the short walk to the rooftop bar and restaurant where the group was having dinner. The air was rather cold and despite wearing a fleece pullover, I was grateful to wrap up in a blanket supplied by the restaurant. From a corner of the rooftop, we could see Fuego’s fiery eruptions and hear the loud explosions. We laughed and giggled as we recalled the ordeal we had experienced on Acatenango. Some of the stories will remain on the mountain and in the hearts of the team. As we walked back to the hotel, I was grateful we would have a day off from hiking as we relocated to Lake Atilan, where we would take on the third volcano challenge.

38. The Guatemala Challenge Begins

After months of training, planning, getting gear and clothing together, and mentally preparing for this challenge, the day had come to actually fly to Guatemala. I had a mix of excitement yet apprehension. When I signed up for the challenge, I did so because some of the Kilimanjaro climbers were going and I wanted to participate in one more epic adventure. I still wanted to inspire hope, bring awareness, and raise funds for research. I am driven to have purpose and meaning in life and since PD chose me, I want to make a difference to those who live every day with PD. I believe with grit, determination, and courage, vibrant living is possible. When I read the trail descriptions of the volcanoes we would be taking on, I knew there was no way I could adequately prepare for such difficult treks. Although we would be day trekking except for one night on the mountain, two of the three hikes would demand steep elevation gains on narrow, scree scattered paths at elevations unlike anything east of the Rockies. I watched a few YouTube videos which gave me even more to worry about. I did gain some comfort in learning that I could hire a porter to carry my overnight gear on the night we would spend on the mountain. I sent a message to our hike coordinator in Guatemala requesting a porter for the Acatenango hike and possibly for the Atilan hike. I felt like this was giving me an advantange over the others, but did not think I could do it without the help. Now the day to leave Asheville was here. I woke up at 4:30 to make it to the Asheville airport for my 6:30 a.m. departure.

My flight connected through Atlanta where I would join Cathy Dugas and Michelle Marshall who were also going on the challenge. Our flight went smoothly to Guatemala City and I enjoyed the view of the volcanic mountains as we approached our arrival airport. We were met by Luisa Zea, the hike leader for our week of climbs. She accompanied us to Antigua, a UNESCO World Heritage Site and a quaint city rich in Guatemalan history. After we settled into our hotel, we set off to find dinner. The next day, Luisa guided us on a walking tour of the city and showed us many interesting buildings, shops, parks and street vendors. Guatemala is a major source of jade and we visited a jade factory and museum. Our guide provided a lot of Guatemalan and Mayan history. We saw many interesting artifacts and even got to meet the newly crowned Mayan Princess.

That evening, the group gathered for the first time and shared our stories. There were four of us who have PD. The others were hiking in support of a friend or family member who has it. We ranged in age from 25 – 70 with three men and nine women. The collective energy was a wonder to behold especially the two in their 20’s. I was cautious about my ability to keep up with the group but I knew I would give it everything I had. We headed off to bed eager to greet the morning’s first challenge – Pacaya. There are 37 volcanoes in Guatemala with three of them active. Pacaya is one of the active ones and while we would not be going to the crater, we would hike as far up the mountain as the local agency that monitors volcanic activity deemed safe. It would be about 5 miles and about 1200 ft. elevation gain. My conficence was high that I could manage this one without difficulty.

We had breakfast outside in the courtyard of our hotel. It was very lovely with flowers and plants decorating the entry way to each suite. If one were to stand in a certain corner of the courtyard, Fuego the firespitting and frequently erupting volcano could be seen. Breakfast was eggs, black beans, an assortment of bread, hot dog chunks, and a variety of fresh fruit.

After breakfast, we boarded a bus and headed to Pacaya. Along the way we caught a view of Fuego erupting. Acatenango, our second volcano in the challenge, sits right beside Fuego and is dormant. The group was excited and enthusiastic and ready to take on this leg of the challenge. It was a beautiful day with blue sky, gentle breeze, perfect temperature, and no rain in sight. We took a group picture and started up the trail. The vegetation was lush and beautiful with lots of flowers. There were clearings along the way providing beautiful views of valleys, lakes, and nearby volcanic peaks. The path consisted of dark soil that was damp and not the dry, dusty gravel I expected. We came to a clearing where there were very pretty flowers decorating rocks sticking up from the ground. I was enchanted with this gorgeous place and thoroughly enjoying the day. We reached a point where we could see the peak of Pacaya above us. It was a black, desolate, stark and rugged peak in contrast to the rich vegetation we had been hiking through. We took time to take pictures and then continued on down the path. We were taking an arc trail so did not return on the path we had already traversed. Soon, we came to the famous pizza kitchen where pizza is roasted/baked over hot lava stones. I put in my order for vegetarian and it was delicious! What a treat!! After satisfying our hunger, we continued down the mountain to the bus waiting to take us back to our hotel. I was the last one to board just in time before rain drops fell from the sky. Back at the hotel we cleaned up and headed out as a group to find another great dinner at another local restaurant in Antigua. Now to get some sleep before our next leg.

The Guatemala Volcano Challenge

37. Intensive Hiking before the Volcanoes

27. The Final Leg – August 15

This is the last chapter of my Climb Kilimanjaro adventure but not the end of my journey with PD. Look for more posts in the future.

As I settled into my sleeping bag on that 6^th night, I was very glad it was the last night I would be spending in that tiny tent, on the ground, and without indoor plumbing. Many people like me, with Parkinson’s disease, have sleep issues so I hadn’t really slept well the whole trip. This was in addition to taking Diamox twice a day for the prevention of altitude sickness. It works by being a diuretic. I had climbed the Barranco wall, a 1000 ft. sheer vertical rock cliff where a slip could plummet one off the face to most certain injury or death. We have since learned that the man we saw being carried out on the stretcher the day we scaled the Barranco wall died. I had climbed all through the night going from 15,300 ft. to 19,341 ft. in three miles to reach the summit. All the hiking we had done had been above 11,000 ft. with most of it above 13,000 – 15,000 ft. We also learned that two other people died the same week we were on the mountain most likely from altitude sickness. We had weathered sun, wind, cold, and steep, rocky, scree strewn trails. Yet the most difficult part of the whole journey was taking care of the calls mother nature made and managing the small tent space. At the beginning of the trek, I would look for a rock to hide behind to do my business but by midweek, I didn’t care who saw what. Many people with PD have difficulty holding back when the call to pee comes. My group learned early on that if I said I needed a “trail break”, I would need to answer the call very quickly or risk having an accident. Diamox along with drinking a lot of water to stay hydrated, made these calls come frequently along the way and they came two to three times a night. Pulling off to the side of the trail was easy compared to what I had to accomplish in the tent. First, I had to get out of the warm and relatively comfy sleeping bag. Next, was to get the tent entrance unzipped. Getting the zippers to slide was a very difficult task and one that I rarely did by myself. This meant that Jo had to wake up too and help get the zippers to work. Often, we both had to work together pulling and fidgeting to get them to unzip. Then I got my very dusty boots out of the bags in which they were stored inside the tent. I would set them just outside the tent entrance and then try and get my feet into them which again, was never easy to do. By this time, I was struggling to hold the pee, but I still had to get my long johns down, squat over a bottle and hope the positioning was right to collect the pee. Then I had to do the reverse order of pulling up the long johns, screwing the lid on the bottle, sit inside the tent with my shoes outside and get them off, store them back in the bags and get the zipper closed. This occurred two to three times a night in the dark, cold air. Then it was dawn and the ritual of packing up the gear and dressing for the days hike started.

On that last morning I was very tired and even felt weak when I woke up. I found a clean shirt to put on and decided to wear long johns and leggings as we would be descending where it would undoubtedly be warmer. As I was packing my duffel bag I couldn’t find the hard case for my bifocals which I wore in camp. I had non bifocals for the trail so I wouldn’t be thrown off looking down on the trail. I needed to keep the bifocals safe, so I was desperately trying to find the case when January came to my tent and asked what I needed to get ready. I told him I was trying to find the case but I’m not sure he understood. I gave up and put the glasses in a secure pocket and hoped they wouldn’t get scratched. By the time I got to the mess tent I only had time for a few bites of breakfast. The crew was ready to get packed up as we had a good distance to cover that day to get out of the park. The group made its way to the High Camp gatepost for a picture before beginning this last leg of the trek. Then back to our camping site where we were treated to our crew of guides and porters singing the Kilimanjaro song to us. It was a fun rendition with each of us being named in the verses and members of the crew picked up Laura, Connie, Betty, me and pulled some of others to dance with them in the middle of the ring. Everyone was happy and smiling on that sunny morning as we put on our daypacks and began the last leg of this incredible expedition.

The trail started out very steep with large rocks creating deep steps. As I stepped down that first section I felt a sharp pain in my right butt cheek. The pain was so sharp that my leg faltered causing me to wobble and I almost lost my balance. At the same time, I felt lightheaded and dizzy. I was bringing up the rear of the line with Abel right behind me who noted my stumble. He instructed Matthew to take my daypack and I told him I needed my poles to steady my gait. So, Abel took my poles out of his bag and gave them to me. I also got one of my GU gel packs and sucked out the sweet, gooey contents. This gave me almost instant energy which enabled me to continue without feeling like I was going to faint. But as I continued down the trail, the pain was almost unbearable. I knew there was only one way off the mountain which was to put one foot in front of the other and keep going despite the pain. I was hoping the pain would let up as I trudged on, but it did not, so I told Abel I needed to stop and get some Tylenol. I knew I had some packed somewhere in my daypack, but I could not find it. Abel said Alex had some so the group stopped while Alex found his Tylenol and I took two extra strength capsules. Then I had a nature call. By this time, we were out of the alpine desert and there was good enough vegetation to find a place of privacy. I was still in a lot of pain and getting situated to accomplish emptying my bladder took time. Trying to squat was difficult so I took a while to do my business. When I returned to the group, Alex asked if I’d had a good pee. I wanted to ask what made the experience a good pee? Was it having the feeling of relief from a full bladder? If so, then it was indeed a good one but everything about accomplishing the task was difficult. Fortunately, my hikers back home had taught me the advantage of wearing panty liners to manage the drip on the trail, so I didn’t need to use TP. This was invaluable to me for the entire time I was on the mountain.

A few hours down the trail we came to Mweka Camp. We took a short break here and took another group photo beside the gatepost sign. By this time my pain had subsided and as we continued down the path I was doing good. We were now entering the rain forest. The vegetation had transitioned to dense, lush trees, shrubs, and flowers. The trail also transitioned to a steep, muddy, slick root laden path. Some of the group took spills onto the muddy terrain but no one got hurt. Once again, Matthew was by my side keeping me upright on the trail. We saw black and white colobus monkeys in the treetops. The colorful flowers along the way were very pretty and added a new dimension to the trail. It was also getting warmer and fortunately for us it did not rain so we remained dry. Eventually the trail became more of a gravel road. At last, after hiking about eight miles in six hours we came to the Mweka Gateway entrance of the Mt. Kilimanjaro National Park. This was the end of the trail. We had made it all in one piece. We were exhausted but very happy. As we stood at the gatepost sign to take our last group picture, the crew sang one more time the Kilimanjaro song. I was so ecstatic that I was actually able to get a little move in my body as I sort of swayed to the tune. There were a few concessions available and some of the group got sodas, beer, snacks, or souvenirs. Before going inside the building to register our accomplishment officially with the National Park Service, the crew washed and scrubbed our muddy boots. Then we logged our names into a book of records that would keep our accomplishment in perpetuity.

Mweka camp gatepost two hours into the last leg

Before we left the area, we had a tipping ceremony. This is where we gave tips to those who had served us so diligently throughout the entire week we were on the mountain. It is hard to describe how it felt to have these men and women work so hard to take care of our every need and desire with such respect and genuine kindness. To say I felt humbled and honored seems inadequate. We had decided collectively ahead how much we would leave each person. Laura prepared a speech that she read to the crew telling them about our mission with the Michael J Fox Foundation. She told them how four of us actually had PD and the other five were hiking in honor or memory of a loved one. She thanked them for their devoted service to us. Then she read the list of how much each crew member would receive from us. The smiles and applause in response to their awarded monetary amount was very touching. Then, we spread a tarp on the ground where we put items of clothing or gear that we were willing to leave behind for our crew to keep. There are no mountaineering shops in Tanzania and even if there were most of them could not afford to buy the necessary items. The porters make about $10.00/day while the guides make $15.00-$20.00 a day. They are very grateful for whatever hikers choose to leave behind as that is how they obtain the necessary clothing and gear for themselves. Some in the group left almost everything they brought for the trip declaring that they would never camp again. Many left their sleeping bags, boots, jackets, poles, and various clothing items. The crew members got to choose an item one at a time until most of the major items had been distributed. It has been very rewarding to see pictures of some of our crew wearing some of the items left by our group. It was especially wonderful to see one of the women crew wearing Jo’s jacket with the comment that now she was able to stay warm. At the end of this post, I will leave a GoFund me account Jo started to help certain crew members meet some of their goals and an Amazon shopping list for items they need. I invite you to participate in giving this Christmas by including our wonderful crew on your list. The last group picture was of us with our crew. Then we said goodbye to these individuals who had impacted our lives in a profound way and who will never be forgotten.

The bus ride back to Moshi didn’t take as long as the ride out had taken as we were departing from a gate that was closer to Moshi. Once there, we made a stop at a few ATMs to get cash for some shopping and other needs for the remainder of the trip. Next stop was a restaurant for a hot meal. We had eaten well on the trail, but this meal was really good and satisfying especially since I hadn’t eaten much for well over a day at this point. When we checked into our hotel that night all I cared about was a hot shower, flush toilet and traditional bed with sheets and blankets. It was a wonderful night after the best shower I have had in many years. After a week of not shampooing my hair the experience was pure pleasure. The next morning, we enjoyed a great buffet breakfast with all the traditional items one would expect at any place back home. Then some of us were off for some souvenir shopping. I spent that afternoon relaxing around the pool and dining area of the hotel in the company of some of the others from our group. Dinner that night was a grand event with a sumptuous buffet meal. Then Abel and the three other guides had an award ceremony where we were given our official summit document. There were speeches made, cheers and hoorays shouted out and lots of applause. Each of us got our certificate plus a locally made sash placed around our neck. I was the oldest climber so got my award first. The others were awarded in order of oldest to youngest. Mark Kohus, Jo Simmons, Kristen Gillan, Justin Fields, Laura Aldrich, Connie Qian, Alex DiLalla, and Betty Thomason all got their certificate and sash with pride of a grand accomplishment. Then there were pictures taken, hugs given, tears shed, and goodbyes said. I was up by 5:00 a.m. the next morning to leave for my long flight back home. I rode with Connie to the airport where we said goodbye and then I was off to be back in the air and airports for most of two days. Jo and I had one more opportunity for our paths to cross as we had about 2 hours in Doha, Qatar with overlapping layovers. We hugged and cried as we said goodbye knowing we would be BFFS and that it would not be long before our paths would cross again.

I arrived at the Asheville airport alone, very weary, a bit overwhelmed and ready to sleep in my own bed. My husband Jay was there to welcome me home and offer big congratulations for such an accomplishment. The next two days were spent mostly in bed sleeping and resting. I am in touch with all eight of the other hikers and the four guides on our trek. We are planning to participate in other Fox Foundation fundraisers in the future and are also planning a reunion for one year to the day after reaching the summit. I remain in recovery mode and frequently look through pictures taken on our hike. It was an incredible, magnificent, remarkable, difficult, tiring, strenuous but forever unforgettable experience. I am very grateful to have gone on this life changing trip with the group of hikers and the remarkable crew that accompanied me. My gratitude is grand for all who inspired, encouraged me, and generously contributed to my campaign for this journey. My story isn’t over yet though so look for more chapters in the future. I enjoy reading all the comments left on this blog so thanks to those who share their thoughts with me.

https://www.amazon.com/registries/gl/guest-view/13BY3FA83ZTXL

GoFundMe https://www.gofundme.com/f/a-journey-of-empowerment-together-we-rise

26. Part 2 – The Descent – August 14

I have had a hard time writing this next chapter in my expedition to climb to the summit of Mt. Kilimanjaro. Getting to the top and then descending on the same day took everything I had to give, and I don’t feel that even 2 1/2 months later I have fully recovered physically, mentally, or emotionally. I had imagined the exuberance I was going to feel when I got to that sign at the highest point and was surprised by my actual response. I will try and convey the experience as it happened to me on that day.

The morning was bright with the sunlight from a cloudless sky above and a thin atmosphere that did not filter out as much of the particulate matter. We had started our ascent the night before at 11:30 p.m. and hiked the very steep 3 miles and 4,000 ft. elevation gain ever so slowly. Each step took a lot of effort, and my breathing was labored. I could see the summit sign for quite a distance ahead as our group trudged on to our ultimate destination. Jo was the first to get there with the rest of us close behind. Then, I was there. I was at the sign. I had made it in 9 hours as our arrival time is recorded as being 8:30 a.m. The tears started to flow uncontrollably. I was overcome with emotion as I realized I had made it, but not by myself. I felt gratitude to Michael J Fox himself, the Michael J Fox Foundation, my fellow teammates, the guides, all my supporters from my hiking group who condition hiked with me, to friends and church members who were praying for me and had offered lots of encouragement. I was grateful for my husband, my four children, my grandchildren, my husband’s sisters and their families, and my brothers and their families. I thought of my friend Margie who died just two weeks before I left for Africa and who was a great source of encouragement in my pursuit. It was a very humbling moment to realize how many and how vast my support had truly been. I felt small, humbled, and undeserving that I was the recipient of such an outpouring of resources, encouragement, money, friendship, and love. I also felt a calling to give back and continue the pursuit of finding the cure for PD and using my story to inspire others and bring awareness about PD to the many who do not realize the trials and difficulties that are often unseen but that those with PD live with every day. There is a plaque near the sign that has an inspiring message to the world that brought more tears. It seems like I was in this state for about 10 minutes. I had wanted to make a short video expressing my gratitude to all who had helped me. When it was my time to have a few minutes at the sign for a photo, I was still in tears and my video isn’t the joyful one I had envisioned making. Of course, I had to have a picture with my symbolic one-legged stance with my hands reaching upward. Getting into that pose proved problematic. I had trouble lifting my leg and then raising my arms over my head. You might think this was because I was tired, or because the oxygen level was low or because I was having altitude sickness. But it was not for any of those reasons. No, it was because I was wearing four pair of pants, two long sleeve fleece shirts and a heavy parka! I did stay in the pose long enough to snap the photo. Each team member got their turn to take a solo picture and then we took the group picture. It was a proud moment that all 9 of us had made it to the summit. Before starting the descent, I took time to look down in the bowl of the crater and across to the other side of the rim. It was a vast expanse of nothingness. It was just dust and ash and desolation. It was what I thought hell might look like. One cannot stay at that altitude long so after about 30 minutes I started the descent back to Barafu Camp with Matthew by my side.

We soon encountered Kristen making her way down. She was in distress with the look of terror in her eyes. She looked right at me and said, “I can’t breathe”. I noted the color of her lips and though slightly dusky not blue yet. Also, I know that if a person can talk they are able to move air into their lungs. But she said her lungs felt very tight and I knew she was in trouble. Her altitude sickness had progressed to High Altitude Pulmonary Edema. I tried to reassure her and clam her down but when a person can’t breathe it is very difficult for them to stay calm. There were two guides with her that I did not recognize from our group. Jo suggested they get supplemental oxygen for her which they did. Matthew and I continued down the mountain stopping at Stella’s point to take pictures. We were the only ones there so took several shots and then continued down the trail. Jo was ahead of me and soon Kristen passed us with the two guides on either side of her body literally carrying her down the mountain as fast as they could. I immediately had a plan in mind to help her once back at camp. I don’t know if the other team members were ahead or behind me as we were not descending as a group at this point. The deep volcanic scree made the trek down treacherous, and one could use their trekking poles like ski poles to “ski” down the slope. Matthew rescued me from falling more than once as we made our way to camp. We passed a woman from a different group sitting on a rock with her head supported and sound asleep. A guide was sitting there with her as she slept. I had full sympathy for why she was sleeping on the trail. Then we came to a place where we could see our camp way in the far distance further down the mountain. I was ready to be done with this hike! I wanted rest and food and to get out of all those pants. We were still at over 15,000 ft. elevation and even though we were descending it was very tiring. I had eaten all my energy snacks and the pangs of being very hungry were strong. I felt like a kid on vacation with her parents asking over and over, “when will we get there?” At last, we arrived at our camp after about 2 1/2 to 3 hours for the descent. I went straight for the mess tent. Jo was there but I don’t remember anyone else being at the table. I was looking forward to the nice, hot lunch that I knew would be waiting on the table when I arrived. But to my dismay there was no food except a few pieces of fruit. We waited hoping for lunch to be served but after an hour or so we went to our tent to rest. The cook staff did not know when to expect us back in camp so apparently were waiting for direction to prepare a meal. I also looked for Kristen but she had been taken straight to the camp where we were spending the night and hadn’t stopped to pack her gear. This meant someone else would have to pack her gear. I knew I should offer to help Betty, her tentmate but had no energy and was grateful that Betty’s 19 year-old youth gave her the strength to pack up Kristen’s things by herself. It was imperative to get Kristen to a lower elevation. My memory at this point gets very sketchy. I believe we rested for a few hours before getting up to pack our gear and trek to the next camp where we would spend the night. I remember thinking that I DID NOT WANT TO HIKE ANYMORE! I wanted to stay put and sleep there for the night. But we needed to get out of the altitude and further down the trail to make it out of the National Park the next day. I have no memory of hiking anymore that day even though I know I did. We must have hiked about another 5 miles and gone from 15,300 ft. to 12,900 ft. that afternoon. In less that 24 hours we had hiked over 11 miles all above an elevation of 13,000 ft. with most of it above 15,000 ft. We arrived at High Camp at dusk. When I got to the opening of my tent, I collapsed face first onto the thin mat with my dusty shoes still on my feet stretching out the entryway. Jo asked if I was going to the mess tent to eat. I mumbled a weak no. I had given everything I had that day and had no energy left to eat or unpack or move. I don’t know how long I laid there before I managed to get my sleeping bag and mat spread out. I think I took off two layers of pants and one shirt before crawling into my cocoon bag to sleep until the early morning wakeup call would put me back on the trail for one last day.

25. The Summit of Kilimanjaro – August 14

I woke up in the morning still tired from the day before even though we got to “sleep in” an extra half hour. We didn’t have such a long hike ahead of us to get to Barafu camp which was where we would start the final ascent to the summit of Mt. Kilimanjaro later that day. Karanga Camp is at 13,100 ft. elevation and we would climb to 15,300 ft. elevation to get to Barafu Camp. There we would have lunch and then rest for the afternoon and evening til 10:30 that night. Abel told us that he usually let his groups sleep til 11:30 to get ready to start the climb at midnight but since we were slow we would need to get an earlier start.

As we got on the trail, the mist of the early morning evaporated into a beautiful cloudless blue sky. The chilly air warmed up so we could shed our heavier jackets. There was a breeze but not a strong wind. The landscape of the trail was stern, rocky, barren, forsaken terrain that did not support much animal or plant life. This was definitely the alpine desert climate zone. We could see the top of Kibo peak off to the side of the trail on various stretches of the path. This sight was a reminder of our goal and encouraged us to keep going forward. At 13,000 ft. climbing to 15,000 ft. every step was an effort and every breath seemed like I was gasping for my last. We trudged on at a snail’s pace and took frequent breaks to hydrate and fuel our bodies. We didn’t engage in as much conversation while moving but during the breaks resumed our laughs and stories. At this point in the journey the nine of us had gotten to know each other in a way that often occurs when people band together for a mission and purpose that requires grit, determination, endurance, pain, and ultimate glory. We had learned about each other’s families, jobs, travels, hobbies, and connection to Parkinson’s Disease. We heard the trials that PD had brought to each of us and the difficulty and sorrow we had experienced. Each of us were determined to make a difference in the search for a cure. While our endeavor was to raise funds for research through the Michael J Fox Foundation, there was much more we wanted to accomplish here. We wanted to raise awareness about PD by telling our stories. We wanted to inspire others, not just with PD, but who face any adversity, to take charge of their destiny and get involved. For me personally, I wanted to show that people with PD can live full, vibrant lives. Hey, I have PD but I just climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro thus demonstrating a metaphor for facing the challenges of life. In a few days I had a bond with eight people plus our guides and spanning a 50-year age difference that under normal circumstances might take years to form.

We arrived at the Barafu Camp in the early afternoon. After shedding our daypacks, we went farther up the path to the gate post for the obligatory group picture. While it wasn’t that far up to the gate post from our camp, at 15,300 ft. it felt like a struggle to get there. Back at camp, we spread out our sleeping bag and mat in our tent before lunch. Abel came to our mess tent to give us our debriefing about how to prepare for the hike to the summit. We were to wear four pair of pants, two pair of socks, at least two long sleeve fleece shirts, a wool hat, warm gloves with hand warmers in them, a parka, and a bright head lamp. I told Abel that my leggings were still wet from when I rinsed them out on day two and thus I did not have four pair of pants to wear. He asked me to bring them to him. I know he sent them to the cook tent to have them dried over the stove. Later that day they were dry and ready to wear to the summit. I really don’t remember much about the rest of the afternoon so I must have gotten the rest and sleep needed for the final and certainly most difficult leg of this epic expedition.

It was very dark and cold outside when 10:30 p.m. arrived that night. I started getting dressed for the climb but that was not an easy task. I struggled to pull my leggings over my long underwear, then my fleece pants over my leggings and finally the rain pants over the fleece pants. Next came putting on the top layers and then the socks. I had to loosen the laces on my boots to accommodate the extra socks and toe warmers I put in each boot. Then, I put on the wool beanie hat and a head band that went over my ears on top of the hat. I put on my bright blue parka and got out the neoprene face mask from my snow skiing days. I had recharged the batteries on my gloves but must have left them on during the afternoon as the batteries to the gloves were dead. Having cold hands and fingers is very difficult for me as they freeze up so that I can barely move them. I could only hope the gloves would be warm enough without the batteries to provide extra warmth. Once I had all my clothes on I had to get my boots on. Needless to say, I was the last one to the table for the meal needed to provide energy as we made the assault on Kilimanjaro. I was frustrated! I still needed help to get my boot laces tied and my gaiters on. So, I sat down and lost it. I fumed about how small the tents were and how difficult they had made my life on this trip. Everyone at the table quietly listened to my rant until I snapped out of it and said “enough whining”. It was time to get it in gear and do what needed to be done to reach that pinnacle. I grabbed a little food to eat from the table, gratefully accepted help getting my boots tied, the gaiters put around my ankles, opening the chemical warmers for my hands and feet, and my water bag filled. Jo let me use her extra head lamp as mine was not very bright. It was 11:30 p.m. on August 13 and we were ready to start the ascent of 4,000 ft. elevation in three miles to the top of the highest, free standing volcanic peak in the world.

It was a cold, crystal clear, moonless night as we lined up single file to start up the path. Able led the group and I was placed next in line with Matthew close behind me. As we started very pole, pole, or slowly, slowly up the trail I noted the brilliant stars above me with the constellations of Orion and the Big Dipper at the horizon so close I could reach out and touch them. The lights of the town of Moshi twinkled below in the valley. A single file line of head lamps from other groups stretched out before us going upward to the peak. The imagery was like I was ascending to Heaven with the earthly lights fading in the distance. It was very vivid and made me think of Jacob’s ladder. I felt the presence of a higher power reaching from above to connect with my soul in a very real and almost tangible way.

We made our way in silence for the most part at first. Then, Alex started having difficulty with his footing. We paused to see what he needed. It seemed that Alex was needing to redose his PD medication and this was undoubtedly more pronounced by the altitude. Abel moved Alex to the head of the line behind him. As we traveled upward, the lights of Moshi became dim, and the constellations moved across the sky. The headlamps ahead of us spaced out farther away so we seemed to be alone on the mountain. Others in our group were feeling the fatigue and effects of the altitude and demands of the trail such that they were not feeling well. I was snacking on my high energy gummies and gels to give me strength and doing okay. And then the first light of dawn appeared on the horizon. I was awestruck and determined to take it in. At first it was a hint of light and then a bright, glowing streak of orange across the longest horizon line I have ever seen. I could actually see the gentle curve of the earth that the view from 17,000 ft. elevation gives. I wanted to stay at that spot long enough to see the bright, glowing ball of the sun break through. After taking many pictures, we continued upward. It was bitterly cold at about zero degrees Fahrenheit, but the sun brought a welcome warmth for the rest of our ascent. There was some wind but not so strong that it made hiking difficult. It wasn’t long before we came to Stella’s Point, the first place on the rim of the crater along the trail. Matthew said we needed to keep going to get to Uhuru Peak as by this time the group had spread out and since we couldn’t stay very long at the high altitude, we needed to get there as a group not as individuals. It was about another hour of hiking along the rim to reach our destination. So, by putting one foot in front of the other, I trudged on still feeling good. The terrain was pure desolation with nothing but dry, volcanic space and gravel. Off to the southern side we could see the top of the ice and glaciers we had seen while traversing the path below for the past several days. The iconic sign was just ahead but every step took determination. And then, I was there. I was at the peak. I was at Uhuru Point. I was at 19,341 ft. elevation. I was there beside that iconic sign. I had made it on Tuesday morning August 14, 2023 at 8:30 in the morning after 9 hours of hiking through the night. This story will be continued in part 2 …

24. The Barranco Wall – August 12

The morning came soon enough, and it was time to rise and shine and get going. We didn’t have as far to go on this day, and we weren’t making a big elevation change to the next camp but getting there would require some dramatic up and down segments on the way. To start, we would have to climb the famed Barranco wall which is a very steep zig zagging trail that would require using our hands to scramble in some areas. We would be trekking above 13,000 ft. which makes every step a big effort. We gathered at the gate post to get the group photo at the Barranco Camp before starting out and then began the hike. We crossed a bridge over a stream with a pretty waterfall and I could not miss taking a photo of this sight. Not far up the trail, we saw a group of crew members from a different group carrying a stretcher with a crew member lying on his back and being carried down the trail back to Barranco Camp. I could see one of his legs had a splint on it and knew he had injured it and would need to be helicopter lifted off the mountain. It was a stark moment of realization that there was real danger doing this expedition, not just to us but to the crew members who make every journey of many hikers possible. It was a reminder that there have been deaths trying to conquer the mountain and we needed to be careful and use caution. Ahead and looking up I could see the single file of hikers making their way up the wall and felt a mix of excitement and dread. I was so glad that Abel had assigned Matthew to guide my every foot placement and handhold as I knew he would keep me safe. I was the first in line on the steepest places and got to watch the others make the ascent. Once the group was up the steepest part I had a sense of great accomplishment and took a video of my exhilaration. It was here we saw the helicopter fly in, land, and pick up the injured man from the Barranco Camp down below. The next feat was to pass by the “kissing rock”. This is a very narrow spot where one must brush right up against a large protruding rock with the trail dropping off steeply on the other side. We literally kissed the rock as we slid by it’s hard surface. Not far from this place the trail leveled off and had a spot with large boulders great for resting and taking a snack or nature break. We could see the peak of Kilimanjaro also known as Kibo because that is the name of the highest of the three volcanic cones making up the mountain. The Shira peak on the western side creating the Shira plateau where we had come and the Mawenzi peak to the east are the other two cones. We were getting closer to our goal, and we could see the majestic peak. By this time in the trek, we were getting quite well acquainted with our fellow teammates. We shared stories of our life, our families, our current situations, our connection to Parkinson’s disease and our motivation for signing up for this epic trip. There were moments of laughter, sadness, happiness, and revelations of hopes and fears yet ahead in our lives. The mountain is barren and desolate, and it was hard to hide or have privacy both physically and emotionally such that I felt exposed often with the loss of dignity and had to trust my fellow hikers to respect boundaries and secrets revealed. I know that for each of us there are things that will stay on the mountain forever and thus the bonds of friendship and camaraderie got stronger with each day and each advancement along the way.

We had been ascending in elevation but our camp for the night was close to the same elevation as the previous night. This meant we were going to have to descend the trail. That was good news as it was more difficult for me to go up than to go down. Each step took a lot of energy and left me panting and feeling out of breath. The guides frequently would tell me to drink more water to help prevent altitude sickness. I wondered how they thought I could breathe and drink at the same time as my body wanted air more than it wanted water. The recommended amount of water to consume is about 3 liters a day. I was never able to get that much down and I think they finally gave up trying so hard to keep me adequately hydrated. Yet, while others around me were feeling the pangs of altitude sickness, I still had not had a headache, nausea, or vomiting. I feel certain that the prehike conditioning I had done many with my group of hikers back in North Carolina and often at elevations above 6,000 ft. had helped. I was also taking Diamox as prescribed twice a day and eating the high energy snacks to provide fuel to my overworked cells. As we descended the path, we came to a section that resembled a set from Jurassic Park. It became very steep, and the terrain was very rugged with deep grooves in the sides of the mountain. There were fairly large trees with moss hanging from bare limbs. The varied hues in the rock and soil were red, green, brown, and gray. There was a large section that was charred from fires that had occurred about two years ago. There were beautiful desert-like flowers and plants. It was dramatic, stark, beautiful, and eerie all at the same time. The trail was a hard surface with the typical volcanic gravel making it easy to slide and lose your footing. Once again, Matthew watched my every step keeping me safe on the way down this section. We rounded a curve in the trail when Matthew pointed to a place across a ravine from where we were and said that was the camp for the night. I could see we had quite a way to descend before crossing the bottom of the ravine and then hiking back up to the camp. I wanted to sit down and not budge. I was tired and this looked like a long way off yet to go. But the other side of my brain kicked in and told me to take it one step at a time and get there. Matthew and I were lagging a little behind the group, but we caught up as we ascended the trail to the camp. It was a welcome sight to have the crew members greet us on our way up, take our packs, and gather around us to sing the ritual welcome song as we made it into Karanga Camp. Though the evening fog and clouds were rolling in there was still light to get the group picture at the gate and then look for a spot to find connectivity on our phones. The White Napped Ravens searching for crumbs from the camp looked rather ominous in the mist. The usual tasks of setting up our gear in the tent, freshening up, having a hot meal, gazing at the spectacular starry sky, and settling in for the night seemed routine now. My body yearned for rest night would bring.

23. Shira Camp II to Barranco Camp – August 11

Jo’s alarm sounded too early. It was dark outside and way too cold to think of getting up. I let Jo start packing her gear while I stayed in my sleeping bag a little longer. But the day’s adventure was ahead, and I needed to get moving. So, I emerged from my sleeping bag and began the daily task of dressing, stuffing my sleeping bag into it’s sack, and putting on my shoes to begin the day. Outside the zipper entry to our tent, I found my water bottle that I left just at the entrance and discovered it had partially frozen during the night. Then, a crew member showed up with two bowls of hot water to use to freshen up. Sometimes the daily bowls of hot water would show up in the evening but at least once a day we had water to cleanse our bodies. I never figured out how to really use it well as I couldn’t bring the bowl inside the tent and I didn’t want to stand bare footed in the dirt outside the tent, so I would use a cloth and try and wipe the dust, dirt, and sweat from my body as best I could. Once ready, I headed to the breakfast tent to join the group for our first meal of the day. It was usually the same menu of hot oatmeal, fruit, pancakes, eggs, and a meat for protein. The spreadable oil or margarine, Nutella and jam that were always on the breakfast table were so cold I could barely scrape a little onto a table knife. I liked to add a little of the margarine to my hot oatmeal to add flavor and a few calories as well. The Nutella and jam were a nice addition to the pancakes. I would take my water bottle to the table, fill it with warm water and add some electrolyte powder. Next, I would try and find some water to brush my teeth. Since by this time, camp would be packed up, I would often use the electrolyte drink in my water bottle to wet my toothbrush and rinse my mouth. Then I had to fill the Osprey water container that I carried in my daypack in addition to the water bottle. I was always the last one ready to begin the hike, but the others were patient with me and never complained.

Our route for this day would start at Shira Camp II, travel back through the Temple of Cairns, lunch at Lava Tower and reach the Barranco Camp to spend the night. Our starting elevation was about 12,600 ft. with Lava Tower at about 15,200 ft. and Barranco Camp at 13,000 ft. We would be hiking about 9 miles, so it was a big day ahead. When we got to the area of the cairn towers, we decided to build our own monument. Since I was the oldest group member, I was to place the foundation rock and the others added their rocks in chronological order. Once we finished making our cairn, we took a picture capturing the moment. It was a brief moment as it toppled before we moved on with the hike. The higher we got the terrain changed from the moorland to alpine desert. It became more difficult to find cover for the trail breaks the Diamox demanded. The plant vegetation all but disappeared and it became very barren and desolate. It was a bright day, so the sun shined down on us but due to the elevation, it remained cool enough to leave our long sleeves and pullovers on. Most of the trail was a gradual climb and we moved at a snail’s pace. As we got closer to our lunch destination at Lava Tower, I noticed that Laura was lagging, looked very pale, and stopped to get some medication from her daypack. She had a headache and felt nauseated. Since we were nearing 15,000 ft. elevation she was undoubtedly experiencing altitude sickness. When we got to Lava Tower Camp our porters greeted us with the same happy welcome singing, took our daypacks from us and took pictures of us at the Lava Tower gate post. They had a hot meal waiting for us in the mess tent where we dined and rested before continuing on our way. Others in the group weren’t feeling so well either so the food and rest were very welcome to refresh us before continuing to our camp for the night.

From Lava Tower the trail descended down an open area where the trail was mainly the volcanic gravel scree making it easy to slide and fall. The rugged cliffs to the left of the trail were majestic and glowed in the afternoon light. As we got close to Baranco Camp, we came upon an oasis with a stream flowing down the mountain. The water cascaded over rocks and made waterfalls. It fed beautiful desert plants turning the barren land into a beautiful, lush area. I stopped to take pictures but January, our lead guide, took my phone, put it in his pocket and said we needed to hurry, or we would be hiking in the dark. We arrived in camp just at dusk and the light on the mountain towering above us and peeking out from the clouds was a stunning sight. The evening ritual of unpacking, dining, gazing at the beautiful stars, and snuggling down in my sleeping bag for the night was a little easier now that I was getting used to it. It had been a long, hard, tiring day full of beauty and splendor and sleep came a little easier this night.