Mt. Kenya recap

22 Aug Mt. Kenya recap

Mt. Kenya Expedition

Heartfelt Lessons in Life

In October of 2001 I had just returned from reaching the top of one of the world’s seven summits, Mt. Kilimanjaro, where I had become the first heart recipient to stand on the roof of Africa. It was clearly a high point in my new life as well as a milestone for the medical industry. Almost immediately after the wheels of the plane pulled away from this historically rich country, I became overwhelmed with a sadness that I would likely never return to this magical place. The emotional freedom that came with my hard earned liberties felt instantly threatened by the proverbial clock.

My adventurous life continued as I traveled the world climbing well known mountains in search of making a positive impact on organ donation. Each new peak carried a symbolic message that would reverberate far beyond the medical community, seemingly inspiring people from all walks of life. In spite of all the successes, a piece of me couldn’t help but think of Africa, and wonder if my visit was simply a fleeting moment. I desperately wanted to return, if for no other reason than to prove to myself that the proverbial clock is not purely the deciding indicator of time spent. Liberty does not come without the price of hard work and determination. Knowing what it took to realize my post transplant successes, I was keenly aware of what I needed to do to alter fate. Years of post transplant climbing adventures brought me to a new level in the world of mountaineering, which expanded the possibilities for novel expeditions. One such opportunity, which I would not have considered back in 2001, was to ascend a technical route on Mt. Kenya, Africa’s second highest peak. My ever advancing skills and passionate quest to return to the continent where the first heart transplant took place proved to be the ingredients I needed to ensure my first visit did not have to be my last. Failure is certain if you never try. This is a mantra I both preach and live by as I am a big believer in approaching life as why I should vs. why I shouldn’t. I certainly did not know if I could ascend the technical route of Mt. Kenya and reach its peak, but that really was not the entire point. Awakening people to the reverberating impact of Organ Donation is more than standing on top of a geographically recognized high point. Summits are much more fluid, as it is about getting out there and experiencing life to the best of your ability.When I first received my transplant I was fearful that time was not on my side. I subsequently came to realize that any time I had was on my side and I should actively embrace each beat. Returning to Africa was my personal summit as it represented something I previously thought to be impossible. Also, it illustrates that transplation is more than a bandaid, and in fact, a viable long term cure.  Mt. Kenya merely proved to be the excuse and stage for this hopeful vision to unfold.

After trekking for 4 days with deliberate successive gains in altitude our team was acclimatized and ready for our final push up the mountains North Face Standard Route. With a 4 am start, our team of climbers and select porters donned headlamps and hiked up 1,200 vertical feet, reaching the 15,000’ base of the technical route in just under an hour and a half while it was still dark. The temperature was below freezing and a thick layer of clouds/fog covered most of the mountain. Our climbing party was rather large as it consisted of three teams of two. Mt. Kenya Guide/Ranger Kenneth Kimathi and filmmaker Michael Brown took the first position. My husband Craig and I made up the second team, and NOLS Instructor Phil Henderson guided adventure film student Dylan Welter. The state of the mountain was suspect at best, as the well documented climate changes had transformed the once semi-predictable formation into an assortment of loose and unstable stones. In spite of the conditions, the first pitch went rather well as our predetermined plan of sharing anchors and forwarding gear proved to be an efficient way of moving the team quickly. This, however, was not to be sustained. As members of the climbing team began to sporadically dislodge various size rocks, the climb grew more treacherous and our progress began to slow. Climbing icon Yvon Chouinard has been quoted as saying, “true adventure begins when things go wrong”. This was indeed becoming the case as the high altitude, frigid temperatures and loose stones, along with our oversized party began to complicate an otherwise relatively straight forward ascent. The falling rocks were one thing, but my inherently poor circulation began to challenge my cold gripless fingers whose effectiveness started to wane against the cold rock. Still, I was able to continue to ascend with Craig leading the way of our two person team and maintaining pace with Ken and Michael. As we reached the 11th pitch of the referenced 30+- pitch ascent we started to pull away from the 3rd team. The now required tucking and ducking system of climbing was replacing our previous approach where all three teams moved in simultaneous and equal intervals. After reaching 16,000 feet it became all too obvious that we were not going to reach the peak before our pre-determined turn-around time. The cold had taken its toll on my hands (and body) and the altitude began to reduce my tolerance and affect my overall performance. This, in combination with our growing team separation made for an easy and wise decision to limit our climb to a 12 hour day vs. the likely prospect of having to bivvy the night on the wall in sub-freezing temperatures, a reality that was witnessed the day before after meeting 2 climbers who had to endure such a fate. Climbing mountains for fun and inspiration requires one to adopt and adhere to the basic rules of safety. While nothing in life is guaranteed, you can stack the odds in your favor and participate in opportunities that most people will never experience. After all, I am all about exercising my liberties of all the time I now know I have.