Happiness happens on a . . .

…Wednesday?  Sure, why not.  Despite the gloomy weather, I am loving this warm spell (at least until I start pondering the implications of global warming, but right up until then, I’m loving it…).

Maybe it has been the ongoing exchange of a fun-filled group text message with 3 of my favorite crossfitters spread across DC gyms, the cute pictures of kittens shared by my grown-up bff, a new skirt from Ann Taylor paired with brown-boots purchased in Ecuador, or a great first few days back at the gym (despite my less-than-stellar performance tonight, last night's workout left me energized...once I caught my breath).  Regardless, the last 2 days, perhaps for no particular reason at all, have by and large left me feeling upbeat and with lots of good and positive energy. Just a quick post to share my good mood and hopefully send a bit of it your way!  Bring on Thursday!

Pictures from My 2013 Adventures in Ecuador!

Adventures in Eating

Happy National Pie Day Everyone!!!

The scene in my kitchen early this morning...I managed to set my fire alarm off 3 times (not to mention discover a leaking radiator), all before work.  It turned into mildly-controlled chaos at one point!  Absolutely nothing in this picture is paleo.  Absolutely everything in this picture makes my heart happy.

Fight Like Hell...

As mentioned in the previous post, my 5 summits, 3 on glaciated volcanos, have left me exhausted.  After 48 hours back in DC, a ton of sleep, and a return to work, my eyes continue to feel sort of heavy today!

Chimborazo proved to be the most challenging summit we faced – it certainly wasn’t a highly technical climb, but we were going on only 1 day of rest instead of 2, my body was fatigued overall, I felt sleep deprived despite hours of napping, and I was a touch under-the-weather.  Needless to say, I was turning into an Advil-addict.

Approaching the glacier, we passed through a corridor filled with the possibility of rock falls ahead.  In the dark early on, we heard rocks crashing above and later encountered a series of much smaller rock falls.  The terrain was uneven and difficult to walk on – Alex asked what this type of terrain would be called, Bill from Earth Treks responded, “Sucky.”  I had my own personal list of adjectives…four letter words abound in my head in association with this portion of the ascent and descent alike.

We finally reached the glacier and while we weren’t the only group on the mountain that night, we found ourselves in greater isolation than we had encountered on Cotopaxi.  Multiple groups turned back around 19,000 feet, and I’ll admit, the last 1,000-plus feet seemed to last forever.  They were incredibly steep and without switchbacks or opportunities to rest.  The snow was punch-through – it held the weight of a person for just a second before giving way, allowing my feet slide lower than where they had stepped from to begin with.  As I read this, it sounds miserable – I think it was incredibly frustrating, if nothing else.  For the first time on the trip, I had instances of doubt and uncertaintity.  I allowed the desire to stop to creep into my mind – mentally and physically, moving forward was daunting, fighting myself and that little voice in the back of my mind magnified the challenge.  I thought often of crossfit – take 3 deep breaths and keep going, embrace the suck, shut your brain off, leave everything out there, and on and on.  I thought of yoga and aimed to find a rhythm in my breath and my steps, but with uneven terrain and punch-through snow below, I struggled.

Wilson, our Ecuadorian guide, had previously dubbed me a “hardcore woman” after Cayambe.  Ha!  I’m not sure I would have gone to that extreme, but I’ll take the flattery any day!  Coming off of Chimborazo, my only comment was, “I don’t think I was very hardcore on that one…” to which he responded, “Well, Sarita…you definitely slowed down.”  And Lord knows I did!  I slowed down considerably and at one point during the descent, I took a substantial fall forward, in addition to so many more small slips and stumbles.

We reached the “sub-summit” of roughly 20,400-plus feet around 8:00 in the morning – it was windy and cold.  Quickly, the team discussed continuing to the summit – less than a 100 foot gain in elevation, it would take nearly an hour to walk the long and relatively flat traverse.  It would be 2 hours round trip before we could stand back where we already were and begin our final descent.  The cost-benefit analysis began – I’ll admit, my inclination was to continue.  We had come so far already, it seemed a shame to stop on a summit so close to the highest apex.  But the team leaned decidedly against continuing and opted to instead enjoy our victory where we stood.  I could have made an argument to continue, I could have suggested that it would be worth it – but I didn’t.  Success and failure happen as a team, mountaineering behavior depends on the actions of each person – I trusted this team inherently.  If the decision and consensus, if the best thing for the team, was to stop where we were, there was nothing in me that would question that decision.  We enjoyed our success with pictures and hugs and returned to Quito around 5:30 pm with a night full of packing ahead before early morning flights.  The idea of returning 2 hours later, for only a 100 foot gain in elevation, if we had continued was overwhelming to even consider.

I left the remainder of Justin’s ashes at the summit of Chimborazo – without him for the first time on the trip, I began the descent.  The entire concept and this situation overall continues to feel surreal somedays.

Early in my blogging, I wrote that this trip was not for Justin…but it was because of him.  It was because he shared his sense of adventure with everyone he knew and because he encouraged me and everyone he encountered unconditionally, it was because he taught me so much about filling life with living, and it was because he taught me so much about climbing (and let’s be real – he teased me an awful lot too), it was because without him, so many of us felt ourselves facing incredible grief and a choice to sit down and give-up or to fight like hell to move forward.  This trip was a way, one of many ways, I decided to fight like hell.  And it seemed fitting – it was harder than I had imagined it might have been and the moments of challenge and frustration can’t be captured in words on paper.  It’s a sentiment that has to be experienced, not explained.  In some ways, these adventures are like a physical replication of the emotional challenges life holds.

At our summit on Chimborazo, I stood higher than Denali – admittedly, the overall elevation change on Chimborazo is much less than that of Denali, but regardless, a year ago, I would have never imagined I would have done any this.  It was a challenge that I didn’t see belonging within my life; it was the type of adventure that others took, the kind of thing that left me jealous, but with no real sense of how to integrate any of it into my life.  Somehow, I not only jumped into this adventure, but experienced no real fear or anxiety while on it, not in crossing crevasses or moments of significant exposure next to drop-offs and ledges – for those who know me (and my tendency to worry), this is a shocking revelation, but this adventure was exactly where I was supposed to be, what I was supposed to be doing – there was nothing to fear.

And of course, I noticed that somehow we faced each summit attempt with clear skies and good weather – how many times have we noted that Justin seems to clear the weather just when we need it.  So many sunny skies – so fitting.

I would give anything in the world to change how the last year has unfolded in many different ways – but I can’t.  And so instead, I took every “because” Justin ever gave me – so many more than I could ever list above – and broke into an entirely new part of my life.  To him, I am forever grateful for this opportunity.  I hope somewhere he knows what it meant to me, what he meant to me, and how much we all miss him.  I am grateful to the friends and family that held my hand and gave shoulders to cry on in the midst of tremendous grief, opened up their homes and their hearts, opened up their arms when I needed to be held, and who have pushed and encouraged me as I embarked on this adventure.  I learned so much about myself in the process of preparing and throughout this adventure, I have learned an awful lot about life - some lessons I'd rather not know, I met incredible people along the way, and was reminded of the incredible strength and love and support in my life from the people I already know.

I have already been asked – would I do this again, would I repeat the entire trip?  Absolutely.  It was a life experience I would never miss.  Will I attempt more summits in the future?  Probably – I need a few days of mountaineer’s memory and selective amnesia first, then a chance to look back at the pictures and appreciate the view before I commit to another mountain.  And between now and then, I think I need a vacation where I can find sand between my toes and a daiquiri in my hand.

Onto my next adventures…

Exhaustion

We successfully made it to the summit of Chimborazo around 8:00 this morning.  The ascent was far and away the most grueling we have faced, complete with a few rock falls and a few (unrelated) tumbles down the mountain.  I fell between 14 - 17 times (let's be real, I fell more than 17 times today) on the glacier, on the rock corridor leading to the glacier, and everywhere else imaginable.  Is anyone reallllly surprised?  At 20,400 ft. it was windy and cold, but with incredible views.  Absolute exhaustion has set in - more blog posts to follow shortly, bed now before my 6:00 a.m. flight home tomorrow morning!

Cayambe: COMPLETE

We successfully reached the summit of Cayambe just an hour after dawn yesterday morning.  The view was more incredible than I could have anticipated - the clouds, some 2,000 feet below, seemed close enough to touch, they looked full and heavy and substantial, like they could be scooped up.  In the distance, a cloud at our elevation held perfect formation drifting ever so slowly across the horizon, but somehow never masking the sunrise.

My general impression, and I think that of the group, was that Cayambe would be easier than Cotopaxi.  False.  The climb was long - so long - and unlike Cotopaxi, which was filled with incredibly steep sections followed by moments of more even terrain, Cayambe began with a noticeable slope which only increased (substantially) as we progressed up the mountain, offering relatively few moments of respite and an ever increasing grade on the mountain.  Eventually, roughly 500 feet below the summit, we came to the head wall, and with crevasses eliminating other routes to the summit, we started to climb.  The wall was a slab, a bit less than vertical, but it quickly became clear that an anchor would be needed for climbers to pass the line through as we progressed (Mom - we were totally safe, I promise, that's why we put an anchor in, it was good and prudent judgment!).  We found ourselves on the western head wall as dawn approached from the eastern side of the mountain, back-lighting everything around us and casting an amazing shadow of the summit on the world below.

In the days prior to the climb, we had spent some time on glacier and crevasse training, with each team member lowered into a crevasse to climb out and later lowered into crevasses practice rescues.  No rescues were needed during the ascent, but the increased familiarity with climbing a slab of ice and additional technique work with the ice axe proved helpful.  I truly loved the ice climbing, and on our descent, loved being able to rappel from the top of the head wall to the bottom.

Our group formed 2 rope teams - 7 people in total - and the mountain was ours alone.  I definitely already miss the rest of the team, but also appreciate the increased role the remaining team members play in the decisions we face.  The other 15 members of our original team returned home following Cotopaxi and we lose an additional team member tonight.  With only our rope teams on Cayambe, the sense of isolation was unique - we walked and climbed for hours without talking, but I rarely felt all that alone.  I again found myself with Alex on my rope team and we seem to strike a natural rhythm together on the mountain.  Wilson, our Ecuadorian guide lead our rope team, as he did for my team on Cotopaxi.  He has definitely been integrated into our group - we have introduced him PB&Js, it's a whole new culinary world for him!  Bill, from Earth Treks, was at the back of our group.  Both are such an awesome part of a crucial rhythm on the mountain, and I find that the entire team helps to pace me when my internal rhythm urges me to go faster, to become inefficient.

While the climb was long and hard, and again, the descent slow and painful, I felt minimally less drained at the end.  The experience of already completing a different summit just days earlier provided insight for what laid ahead and how much my body could handle - always more than I think it can.  Of course, on the other hand - ignorance is bliss and I worried what my knowledge of what the climb could entail may be psychologically damning, particularly if the weather wasn't in our favor.  Working to maintain my mental focus as Chimborazo approaches.

Our rope team reached the summit first as the other rope team worked through the climb on the head wall.  I thought about Justin and took a moment to spread some of his ashes, as I did on Cotopaxi - it truly feels like where he should be.  I can imagine that as challenging and difficult as the summits can be, he also loved the mental toughness required and the reward for his efforts.  There is a decision that you have to make - you will reach the summit.  There is no "trying" or "doing your best."  There is a mountain in front of you and the decision that you will climb it - it otherwise becomes too easy to allow fatigue and fear to creep in (don't worry Mom - this doesn't mean a total disregard for safety, there are the obvious check-points to assess conditions of team members and the mountain, I promise, I'm strictly pointing to the mentality required).

After a few minutes at the summit, I'll be honest, I zipped up my down puffy jacket, sat down on my backpack, and took a nap...on top of a mountain.  Truly, I can sleep anywhere - as the rest of the team learned while I snoozed through some serious off-roading on our ride down from the refuge and never woke up when we stopped for a few car repairs.

The refuge, or climbers' hut at Cayambe, felt like the Hilton - running water (although cold and still something we used cautiously for fear of food poisoning), flush toilets inside the same building as our beds, kitchen space, the works.  It felt like luxury living - even without heat and showers for 3 days.

Chimborazo lies ahead tomorrow - it will be our highest attempted summit yet by roughly 1,000 ft and we'll be starting lower than we typically do - it will be a long summit with unique features (I'm pretty sure this means it's going to kick my butt).  We will be on a compressed schedule and certainly, this will be a our greatest challenge overall.  Hoping again for good weather and lots of energy and endurance!  Love to all!

Success!

Friday night's ascent to the summit of Cotopaxi proved to be the most challenging thing I have ever done.  Full of anticipation, we arrived at the climbers' hut on Thursday afternoon after a tedious and lengthy hike from the car more 500 vertical feet below.  We initially entertained ourselves by choreographing "Cotopaxi dances" for the summit and coordinating cheers for team members before we settled in and bundled up - even inside the cabin, there was no denying the bite in the air and when the wind blew outside, we felt it.  Eventually, the dancing gave way to a few card games and discussions of gear as we all sat huddled in puffy down jackets and planned for the days ahead.

We had to purify water to ensure that it was safe to drink.  Bathrooms were in a separate building and left much to be desired - toilet paper was a commodity, there was no running water, very few stalls, no electricity, and flushing the toilet required filling a bucket with water.  Suffice it to say that any facades of personal space quickly dissipated...vast supplies of hand sanitizer and personal roles of toilet paper proved invaluable.

Friday morning we completed a bit of training on the glacier before returning to the hut for a few meals and a few hours of sleep.  Between 11:00 and 12:00 Friday night, we began towards the summit.  Alex, my partner on the rope team, showed incredible support and patience on the mountain.  We both have reputations as fast walkers within the group, but he paced me well and flat-out rejected my suggestion that we increase our pace early in the evening, for which I am incredibly grateful as I consider the fatigue I faced hours later.  As I fatigued, he reminded me to fall into a rhythm, implement the technical skills we had already developed during training hikes at home and earlier in the week.  As I climbed, I thought often of the encouragement that has nurtured me in the time since I decided to embark on this journey - and of course, I thought of Justin, climbing the same mountain years ago.  Every thing about the ascent felt like the type of adventure he would have loved.

I often looked out over Quito to enjoy the view of the city, lit thousands and thousands of feet below.  Finally, I could no longer see Quito and it took some time until I realized that we were above the clouds, preventing me from seeing the world below in the darkness.

Headlamps dotted the dark mountain below me and above, giving way to stars dotting the vastness of the sky.  I felt like the climbers on the mountain melted into the stars in the sky and the world felt so big and open above me.  Around 18,000 ft, there was no denying the incredible effort that breathing required - just standing upright proved exhausting, but we pushed forward, around and across crevasses, up incredibly steep and vertical portions of the mountain.  We were one of the last teams out of the climbers' hut, but made good time and summited at 19,348 ft just before sunrise, meeting other rope teams on our expedition on the mountain and at the top.

The descent was slow and painful.  I was exhausted beyond my own comprehension, and now, even more than 24 hours after my return to Quito, I don't think I've really processed the events of the last week.  Tonight was pizza and a few beers back at the hostel - most of the team has left, but tomorrow the remaining four depart for Cayambe for our next attempt at a summit.  We will be able to drive up to the climbers' hut at Cayambe, as opposed to the hike required at Cotopaxi.  Reportedly we will be able to cook all of our own meals there, the bathrooms are cleaner, and don't require walking outside in the middle of the need to find an available toilet.  I'm not holding my breath for running water or toilet paper so I'll come prepared with my own supply, but still, it sounds like luxury living to me!  Cayambe is lower than Cotopaxi, but will involve more time spent on technical skill development.  I have been hoping for a bit of selective amnesia after summiting Cotopaxi before voluntarily heading back onto the mountain...finally today, I think it is setting in and I find myself cautiously looking forward to another mountain.  Here's to hoping for clear weather to facilitate our summit attempt!  More to follow upon my return from Cayambe before leaving for Chimborazo at the end of the week.  Love to all!

The Adventure Begins...

This will be brief by necessity - consistent internet access is a rare luxury.

The time spent in Ecuador has already proved to be the experience of a lifetime - the mountains are surreal and I have yet to find a picture that does justice to every mountain and landscape, instant friends for a lifetime have been made while finding and giving encouragement and support, and pushing through fears and limitations in our initial one-day summits.

The impact of the altitude is notable in the context of so much physical activity - and yet, standing at 15,500 feet after one the most incredible days of hiking and climbing in my life to this point, I hardly noticed.  I stood higher than any point in the conteninental U.S. - we were above the clouds, birds and planes soared below.

With Pasochoa and Pichincha (both day summits) behind us, and a rest day today, we depart for base camp on Cotopaxi tomorrow.  I have had the support and love of friends and family as I prepared for this trip and I'm thinking of you all with much gratitude for what that support and love have allowed me to do this year, and as always, Justin is on my mind and in my heart.

Love from Ecuador, Sara V.

Packing Party

So…with three days left to prepare, packing is in full swing.  Mackenzie reports that walking into my apartment feels a little bit like walking into REI.  A workout or two lays ahead this week, mostly for peace of mind, and then the focus will continue to be on organizing my gear for my 3 summit attempts (and let’s be real, I’ll be swinging through REI at least once twice before the week's end…).  The "realness" of this trip continues to grow - so does my excitement!

Packing Phase 2 in my living room - more gear to be added to the numerous piles already developing.