November 12, 2019 — We stood huddling beside each other at 22,349 feet (6812m). I felt exhilarated and humbled, and equally tired and depleted. My rope team and I had just reached the top of a stunning peak in Nepal, and my mind was a swirl of emotion.
Climbers say Ama Dablam is one of the most beautiful mountains in the world, and anyone who’s finished it will also tell you it’s jagged and technical and a very worthy challenge. For me though, it was more than a bucket-list item. Completing this climb was a 20-year dream in the making — and also one that began a lot more like a nightmare.
In 2000, I attempted the same peak with a strong team, but an endless cycle of storms kept us from ever reaching the summit. We got stuck at 20,000 feet for seven days. We ran out of food and supplies, and our team leader called it.
Then things got worse. Feeling already defeated, on our way back to Base Camp, my teammate Eric Alexander slipped on a rock and fell 150 feet. He went into Pulmonary edema and we spent three more days pumping air into a Gamow bag until a helicopter could lift him to safety. It was chaotic and scary, watching as our friend fought for his life. You can read the full story here.
Failing on mountains is part of the experience. Weather and unforeseen circumstances turn us back on many trips, so why was it so important to return to Ama Dablam?
The truth is, these mountain journeys aren’t glamorous. From headaches, boredom, hunger, and debilitating levels of fatigue, to respiratory illness, parasitic dysentery, and accidents; this trip and others are 100% elective. It seems crazy choosing to be away from family and to attempt adventures that have inherent risk, to voluntarily put myself through hardship. However, the reward is setting big goals, hopefully achieving them, and along the way, learning about ourselves and how people and teams move forward and flourish.
Ama Dablam is no more special than any other mountain or goal. The simple fact is that completing this climb added meaning to my life; the same way that completing a triathlon, raising money for a local nonprofit, or losing weight might for someone else. I set a goal and worked to accomplish it – the mountain is a vehicle for building value in my life. What matters when choosing a goal is to first find the deeper vision that gives that goal purpose, and then allow ourselves the time and energy to pursue it –through all those difficult moments that inevitably arise.
Setting out to try Ama Dablam again, we were older, grayer, and had less cartilage than we did 19 years ago. But, I felt confident in the team we assembled: Our experienced Sherpa guide, Kami Tenzing; my longtime neighbor, and up-for-anything friend, Charley Mace; the indefatigable enigma, Timmy O’Neill; our young gun, Joseph Hobby; and finally, Eric Alexander, a man of faith and determination who had equally high stakes in this climb. This time would be different.
Together, we trekked through vast Himalayan terrain, acclimatizing our bodies for weeks on other smaller peaks. Reaching Ama Dablam, We hung on fixed lines, jockeyed back and forth across steep rock, navigated deep crevasses, and I even crawled on my hands and knees at one point to traverse a narrow, knife-edge ridge. We climbed hard with my team talking me through every footfall and handhold.
The expedition itself was harrowing and rewarding but I found the training leading up to the climb just as valuable. That’s where we build character, confidence, and community. When I started training for Ama Dablam, I reached out to so many people to join me and was humbled by the support I received. In those months of preparation, I connected with so many old and new friends. I climbed 14ers, cycled, and worked out with a motley crew of folks, including people I met at speaking events, Warriors from No Barriers, and old friends from all around the country.
One group of consistent partners were the Rotary Club of Evergreen here in Colorado. These men, in their 60s and 70s, were always game to join me and guide me up beautiful local peaks.
I’m grateful for the rope team that got me to the top. There was nothing gentle or forgiving about this mountain, especially for a blind person, but that made it all the more special to go back and complete.
Despite saying that I was done after this expedition, that it was time to retire and bake cherry pies, I have to admit, this probably won’t be the last time I set my sights on something big. I hope that’s the same for you too. Have a great 2020 – with plenty of second tries.
