So I thought this deserved its own
post, as it was the goal and objective of the entire expedition.
I must begin at first by declaring
there was a four-day period where I had lost all hope of the summit due to
seriously dangerous and destructive weather.
Yes, we made it...but I think I
learned the most by that period in time where I wasn't going to reach the
summit. It taught me a lot, and the day before I wrote a journal entry on what
I had accomplished and what I'd learned in case we didn’t reach the summit. It
was so that I could come back to it and read it.
The good news is, I didn't have to
go back and read it, because summit day turned out to be the most beautiful day
of the entire two weeks, with literally no wind, clouds, and it wasn’t even
super cold (if you notice at the top I had a small puff jacket on because I was
shedding layers all the way up). I could not have asked for a better day and
couldn’t have woken up to a better day to summit. I really believe in good
things happening to good people, and the chemistry in our climbing team was
just so positive, we were all so patient, and most importantly we (I) had come
to accept the fact that it was out of my hands, and that the outcome of the
summit attempt was in the hands of hers truly, Aconcagua.
I think between reading my books
about patience and acceptance, and speaking to my guide about the uncertainty
of weather and that there was nothing he could do, taught me a great lesson
that I will never forget...and it goes back to that quote from my book:
"A
warrior accepts that we can never know what will happen to us next. We
can try to control the uncontrollable by looking for security and
predictability, always hoping to be comfortable and safe. But the truth
is that we can never avoid uncertainty. This not-knowing is part of the
adventure. It's also what makes us afraid...do I prefer to grow up and relate
to life directly, or do I choose to live and die in fear?" -Chodron
I read this line over and over
again in my tent as the 50mph winds were tearing up the tent. I had almost let
go, but Ossy never gave up hope, had a smile on his face, and told me he really
believed the weather would come through. Well it did, and unluckily because it
was so cold and my camera froze; I could not get the sunset that morning at
20,000 ft, but if you saw this it would make you believe in something much
bigger than yourself and was absolutely humbling at how much beauty lies
outside yourself, and how little you actually have control over.
Anyways, I could never describe the
beauty as we climbed out of our tents at 430, the sun seeming millions of miles
away but slowly lighting up the entire planet. I almost started climbing before
we even took the first step, but then I knew that all this work and preparation
had come to this final day, this final 8-10 hours...and that was enough fuel to
keep me going to and beyond the summit.
I had so much energy that day, and
so much joy and appreciation for hard work and focus. We started walking at
about 6:30, yes woke up at 4:30, but take the speed at which you move in the
morning??? Imagine that at 20,000 feet with your O2 saturation at about 70%. We
were slow, tired from the 50-60mph winds, absolutely no sleep the night before
and a 3000-foot climb the day before. We were exhausted before even the
beginning. At that moment I felt hopeless, like I already wanted to give up,
like I didn't give a shit whether or not we made it and at one point was hoping
for bad weather. That passed quickly, going back to the sunrise...that was my
fuel. I felt refreshed and to be honesty the rest is quite a blur. Our guide
told us to break it up into three sections, each one getting harder, with
possibilities for worse and worse weather, rising steepness, more exposure to
winds, higher elevation. It was a huge test of perseverance and not giving up.
I am not a quitter, but man, this was something a lot of people including me
would give up on. There were so many moments when I just felt done, spent, over
it. But between my dad and I, and our drive, and thinking that this entire two
weeks all led to this moment, I just kept walking; that’s all mountaineering
is, preparation and walking. Its the endless torture of getting closer, one
step at a time. It’s a battle between you and the outside world.
Your body starts shutting down and
deteriorating at or over about 18000, so everything was against us, including
our minds. The first section was hard not for its difficulty, but just knowing
that there was 9 hours left, 9 and a half hours left, and just this
slooooooooow countdown. I could barely breathe, and felt I could never catch my
breath, but just had to keep putting one foot in front of the other. It was
also early in the morning, and people were giving up almost immediately, vomit
all over the place, people hyperventilating, and just this snail-like pace,
that was seemingly endless. We were ok after the first two and a half hours; it
was a gradual, and slow enough pace where we just kept going.
The second part is called the windy
tunnel, and is a long traverse across a ridge, in which you get battered by 40+
mph winds, and are just so exposed to the weather. Thankfully, as I said above,
the weather was very permitting and I was so thankful. We still got battered
but 20-30mph winds, but that’s nothing on this mountain. This went relatively
quickly because it was a beautiful ridge with 360 degrees of beauty. The last
third is where hell revealed itself, to both my dad and I. It is infamous for
its steepness upwards of 50 degrees. We arrive to "the cave" which is
where we took a 30 min break; at this point my dads energy had been mostly
depleted. I have never seen so much mental strength in anyone. He fought the
beast, and himself for the entire four hours up this horribly steep and
never-ending walk. I felt ok, but I'm only 24 and youth is on my side. Please
do not take that as, I WAS FINE, because I was hurting so hard. I had never
felt so drained physically in my entire life, and until you do something like
this, it is just impossible to describe. I could keep going on like this step
by step, but that boring. It took four and a half hours to walk .7 KM. We were
zombies, walking like zombies, acting like zombies, just taking slow drunk-like
steps. I just remember it feeling so close and seeming so close, but never
getting closer.... like the carrot being held out front of a horse in the
cartoons. It just was never ending and was a very intense mental battle that I
just kept fighting. And won we did. After 8.5 hours, we stumbled up to the flat
top and the small metallic cross. Three times before actually reaching it I
burst into tears because all of that emotion just purges when you're under such
physical strain. Right as my dad and I reached the summit, without a thought, we
hugged one another like never before. I’m so happy Ossy caught that on camera
because it was one of those moments worth a trillion words, and a moment I will
never forget. I have never felt such a gratifying feeling in my life. It was
just one of those moments in life that you will never forget...I reached that
feeling again, when I tell people why I do this, I got to relive this feeling
of literally reaching a mountaintop. You ever wonder why people use that
metaphor? It’s because it is literally the best feeling one could ever reach...
you like drugs? And getting high??? Try the mountaintop high, because that is
the highest you will ever feel in your life and helped me remind me that there
are natural things in life that can make you feel that good. I don’t think I'll
be doing another climb soon, but I def want to continue to climb because it
grounds you, and brings you back to reality, to being present, being real, it
brings everything into perspective. It just such an unreal, but painful
awakening. Try it. It's hell but in the end it is by far the most rewarding
feeling and most unbelievably powerful experience. Spiritually, mentally,
physically, emotionally awakened.
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