Mountains of Grit

Down sleeping bag, check. Thermal ski cap, check. Walking stick, check. Camera, check. Guide and porters, check. We were ready for our great trekking adventure in Nepal. Our family trip was going to be a venture of a lifetime: we were going to trek up 12000 feet to Madri Himal high camp and sleep in tents for five nights during the coldest time of the year. Little did I know that after all the discussions we had about perseverance and grit in home base the previous several weeks, it would take all the grit I could muster up to make it to the peak.

Working out three times a week with my trainer set my muscles up for the first day’s grueling four-hour uphill climb, but ascending 800 feet was difficult for my lungs. It was a tough beginning, but I have grit, although the frost on my tent the next morning had me shaking both physically and mentally.  I was unaware that we hadn’t yet reached the pinnacle of the altitude or cold. I was in for a shock.

Setting out on the third day to low camp was to be an easy day; only a three-hour climb of about 1000 feet and then a full afternoon to rest up for the big day ahead when we would climb to high camp. After lunch at low camp, the clouds came in and engulfed us. Yes, we were literally in the clouds; we were that high up. The temperature dropped twenty degrees as the sun disappeared, and it was too early to snuggle into our sleeping bags, so we huddled around an illegal campfire. Crouching around the fire for several hours, dodging the smoke, and battling the wind became so tiring that we ended up eating an early dinner and going to bed in order to stay warm. Knowing we were going to get up extremely early to get to High Camp the next day and not wanting to deal with the exceedingly cold, we went to bed with as many layers as we could.

We got up at 4:30 am so that we would reach High Camp before the clouds and with the wakening of the sun. My hot water bottle was still warm, so getting out of the sleeping bag, where even in the tent my breath could be seen as I exhaled, took an act of tenacity I didn’t think I had in me. Two layers on the bottom, three layers on top, plus a down jacket, neck warmer, gloves, and a wool hat: I was out of the tent and looking for something to keep me warm. A full moon surrounded by clouds in the sky made us wonder if we would be making this climb only to have a view of nothing but clouds rather than some of the most majestic mountains on earth. Was it possible that we had come all this way and would miss the magic moment we had worked so hard to experience?

We knew we had to go for it and hope the clouds would clear. After some warm soup, we took off with our headlamps lighting one step at a time. It was thrilling and scary at the same time as we were not really sure of our surroundings. At times the wind blew so fiercely that I thought I might be blown off the narrow precipice. My eyes watered and my fingers were tingling, but my mind was clear and it forced me onwards. Gradually, the sun started to peek over the horizon that almost seemed to be below us. I felt that I was on top of the world. It was a glorious sight.

 We still had another two hours of hiking before we would reach high camp and I was determined to make it. Through the cold, shortness of breath, and tired aching body, I finally reached the top where colorful prayer flags blew in the breeze. The view was amazing as the clouds waited below in the valley letting us take in two of the highest mountains in the Annapurna region of the Himalayas – Annapurna South and Machapuchare (otherwise known as Fishtail). We had reached an elevation of over 12,000 ft. With so many elements and obstacles to overcome, the resolve and indomitable spirit inside of me took over allowing me to make this incredible journey. It felt incredibly satisfying to reach the top.

After taking in the view, and a much-needed snack, we finished taking a few photos, before heading back down. We were far from finished for the day.  We still had to hike back down two hours to low camp, pack up our gear and trek another three hours before making camp for the last night. However, the long trek down gave me plenty of time to reflect upon all that I had experienced and accomplished over the past five days. I learned to take one step at a time. I learned to concentrate on the task right in front of me. I knew that if I stayed in the moment, believed in my own determination, had a hope or a vision of a possible positive outcome that I could do what I set out to do – and that it would be worth it.