The luxuries of Base Camp - showers, dining tent, cook staff, privies... - are behind us now. We are mountaineers, and our camp life for the next week to ten days will be more primitive. This is not camping by a lake with a bonfire over a long weekend... This is camping on rocky terrain, at altitude, with the guides having to spend hours boiling water and making food for us. Toilets are now “wag bags” that we get to use in a privacy tent. I must say, at least, that it is a room with a view, that privacy tent!
Dinner last night was delicious. Patti and I are benefiting from our GF diet, which means more work for Peter, Dawa and Picante. I’m very grateful that Peter took such care to plan a healthy menu. I haven’t had any GI issues to date, and I still have a strong appetite at this altitude. I’m eating as much up here as I do down at sea level.
The landscape is superb. Mountains all around, in some areas covered with snow, but mostly scree and rock and sand - a little lunar or Martian, and definitely spectacular. Aconcagua is also famous for its “Penitentes”, naturally-carved snow peaks that can stand as tall as several feet, side by side like “pilgrims” lined up to pray. The color of the earth tends to be reddish to brown, and the dust flies no matter where we step. The climate is dry, and with the sun beaming down harshly, even if the ambient temperatures up here at Camp 1 hover around a maximum of 8-9C, I sometimes seek the cover of the tent to avoid burning.
Team Ramrod has become a team, with expected quirks and dysfunctions, but mainly with good collaboration, strengthening friendships, evolving team spirit, and awesome leadership, both by our guides and from some of our team members. At this point, there is no telling whether everyone will be along for the whole trip. The variables - altitude, health, strength, training, weather - are too numerous to know if all of us will summit and finish the expedition. But it would be sad to lose any member of the team. I know I’ve already made lifelong friends in this group, and I wish them all very well. I hate to see any one of us suffering - whether it’s because of blisters or altitude headache or a cold. So keep your fingers crossed that all of us find the success we are looking for on this mountain, whatever our individual motivation may be.
That last point is important, as everyone’s motivation is clearly very different. Mine is multi-faceted, with a huge piece being tied to the fundraising campaign I’m conducting for the Société Alzheimer de Laval. But there is more to it than that. This is a way to reclaim myself, my own identity, the person I want to be and that I believe I continue to become. I am with special people here too, and in such an intense environment and context, their presence is immediately impactful and felt. Without going into specific details about any particular individuals, being in their presence generates strong emotions (positive and negative) that require effort on my part to maintain equanimity. More on that farther below.
Today (Tuesday, Feb 5) we climbed to Camp 2, to go drop off group and individual gear that we will need higher up. The climb (we are too high and it is too steep to call this a “hike”) took us to a whole new level of beauty. The first part followed the steep valley carved by the fast-flowing mountain stream, and the trail then turned towards the summit of Aconcagua, affording us yet again magnificent views. After about 4:30 hours of climbing, we reached our destination, Camp 2, at just below 18,000 feet. We stashed our stuff, rested for a while, laughing our heads off at silly jokes, and I realized it was my highest altitude in twelve years, since my climb of Chachani in Peru in 2007. I felt well all day, only a little lightheaded in one section on the way up. This was quickly remedied by drinking water with electrolytes and eating some snacks during our rest break.
Coming down was easier than the last descent (Camp 1 to Base Camp), and we returned to Camp 1 a few hours ago to wrap up the day. Peter, Dawa and Picante are figuring out menu options and preparing a gourmet dinner. It might be another early night. Tomorrow is a rest day, to allow us to continue our acclimatization process before moving up to Camp 2 the next day.
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Good morning! It’s now Wednesday, February 6, and we are spending the day resting here at Camp 1. The sun is shining HOT and bright, the sky is a deep deep blue, and other than the odd gust of wind, all is calm and quiet. Team Ramrod enjoyed another phenomenal breakfast of French toast, scrambled eggs, tortillas, bacon, and coffee. Patti, Peter and I did a bit of laundry in the very cold creek. I even “washed” my hair - at least I rinsed the dust out of it and it smells peppermint fresh now. Don’t ask how it looks however... ;)
There is talk brewing of a bet between one Ramrod member, Sebastian, and lead guide Peter. As this becomes more real, I will reveal more details. It will be one to remember...
I mentioned above the notion of “equanimity”. Walking uphill in increasingly thin air at a very slow pace requires mental strength different than what one experiences when exerting oneself in a gym workout or doing other sports. I’m not arguing it’s harder (although it’s certainly not easy), but it requires a different mental approach. It’s not about winning or losing, or beating a competitor. It’s about sheer endurance and maintaining a positive attitude. Sounds easy? Get on an inclined treadmill at the gym, set the pace to ultra slow, shoulder a heavy pack, and walk for 2 hours. Tell me what your mental state is at the end. Walking super-slowly uphill in scree, breathing with every single step in an effort to keep your heart rate under control takes mental strength. I’ve used several tools over the years when hiking and climbing, to fend off boredom, and more importantly, to fight off negative self-talk. My favorite tool is repeating a mantra. There’s something very soothing about the rhythm of a mantra, the mental repetition of a phrase or series of words. A walking meditation like no other...
Yesterday, as our uphill pace was slow, I focused on six words that I repeated over and over. I tried this mantra during the trek to Base Camp in previous days, and found it effective. My six words are, “Strength, resilience. Love, compassion. Gratitude, equanimity.” I start with strength on the left foot, resilience on the right, and so on. In-breath on strength, out-breath on resilience. Repeat at infinitum. I focus on the words as I say them in my head. When my mind wants to deviate and go somewhere else - in time, place or context - I acknowledge it, and return to Strength, Resilience, Love, Compassion, Gratitude, Equanimity. Once in a while, I direct those words to specific people in my life.
Before you think I’ve gone soft, well, actually, yes... I’ve gone soft, to get much tougher. 2018 was a difficult year on top of two more difficult previous years. In addition to getting through my own “life trials”, I witnessed many loved ones and dear friends go through their own personal hell. I became determined to help them, starting with my parents, to the best of my ability. I came up short many times, failing to provide the assistance I felt I should have. But - I did the absolute best I could, and came out the other side stronger.
The physical and mental training for this trip helped me gain a focus that was outside of everything else, enabling me to maintain some external perspective. I know that when I get home, a challenge that awaits me is to find the “next focus” to train for, whether it be job-related, travel-related, sports-related, along with maintaining the same strong focus on family and friends.
My mental fortitude so far on this trip has been leaps and bounds better than on any previous challenge. I don’t find it “easy”, it isn’t. I don’t know if my fortitude will last, I can’t predict when it will fail me. But I’m ready to face the challenges, one by one, as they come, step by step.
I had a few moments of weakness the other day, not caused by the actual physical hardship of the climb, but because I let my mind wander where I can’t afford to let it go. I’ve had a vision for how this trip and this climb are supposed to unfold, for over a year. This vision was suddenly jeopardized by unexpected circumstances, and I found myself having a strong emotional reaction to that possible setback. It took a day to recover and regain control. I still feel fragile, as the “threat” to my vision is still present (and will remain until the trip is actually over). But I feel a greater ability to deal with that setback if it does become real in the days to come.
There are still many other zones where I can’t let my mind venture just yet, as my ability for equanimity is not strong enough yet. But it will come, after this trip...
And now, as I sit in my well-ventilated tent under the blistering noon-time sun, with my tent mate Patti, I send all my teammates, my parents back home, all my friends and all those following and supporting the Alzheimer cause my best wishes... May you be well. Love you all!
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