Exactly one week ago today, Lisa and I were walking the final 10 miles of our Mt. Kilimanjaro “Excellent Adventure” . . . through the rain forest, surrounded by beautiful lush plants, flowers, and trees, with passing views of the summit of Mt. Kili, and a few monkeys to boot.

It was the grand finale of a long held dream and bucket-list item. Flanked front and back by our incredible guides and constant companions for the past 7 days, Kombe and Jackson, Lisa made the accurate observation to Jackson, “I’ll bet you didn’t know Mama could talk!”

It was true. The preceding six days, our climb was uphill in increasingly thin air. And I reserved ALL of my breath for fueling the physically arduous movement up the mountain.

But on this last day, as we descended into thicker air, Kombe and I solved most of the world’s problems at large, and I gained great insight into the marriage and family culture of Tanzania. It was the perfect ending to the most physically challenging week of my life.

Some of you already know that one of my “life rules” is to keep challenging yourself to levels of discomfort throughout life, or life will “downsize” around you if comfort and ease are your “go to’s.” That rule is what’s behind our daily 5 miles walking regimen, among other things. It’s what pushes us to say “yes” to yet another crisis counseling request when our schedule is already full. It’s what helps us say “no” to indulging in “beyond the need” culinary temptations.

And it certainly was behind my decision to hike Mt. Kilimanjaro. The vision was birthed 15 years ago, when I watched the IMAX film done by National Geographic, which chronicled the trek of a group which included a 12-year-old boy and a 70-year-old woman. Though only 55 at the time, I never thought then that this would be fulfilled for me at age 70, but, here we are.

From that genesis, the timing finally presented itself this year. Daughter Lisa had been able to check it off her bucket list two years ago, when she summited with her friend Tracey, but she was 100% eager to do it again with me.

Game on.

The past year has been full of anticipation and preparation. Though our initial plan was to hike it the first two weeks of August, the scheduling didn’t work out for Lisa, so we pushed it back to the only other possibility in 2025, the first two weeks of June. It was no small thing to give up two months of training, but we were out of options. So we pressed on.

*Leaving Dulles Airport on June 1, 2025*

Gathering gear needed was a feat in itself, but by June 1, our duffles were packed with lots of smart wool clothing, sleeping bags, trekking poles, head lamps, and (unnecessary) snacks. Our flight from Dulles Airport, via Paris, to Kilimanjaro landed just over 24 hours later, and with a mixture of excitement and fear (me), we settled in to our hotel in Machame. From that point on, everything was orchestrated and provided by Altezza Tours (which we would highly recommend).

*Arriving in Kilimanjaro on Monday night, June 2.*

We were thankful that our luggage arrived without mishap and that we had a full day to recuperate from our long travel day before beginning the climb. That day included meeting with a rep from Altezza who approved our gear, as well as taking a hike to a local waterfall with a local guide for a couple of hours. It was a great day.

Wednesday, June 4, we began our trek up the tallest free-standing mountain on the planet. Kili is known as “The Roof of Africa,” and according to stats, approximately 35K hopeful hikers will attempt to summit her annually. Of those, about 60% will successfully summit.

We (us plus a support staff of guides and porters numbering 17!) bussed to the entrance of the Kilimanjaro National Forest, and after registering with the park, watching our gear be off-loaded, weighed, and re-loaded, and eating a “box lunch,” we drove to the start of the “Lemosho” route just after noon. It was a somewhat deceptive start to the journey as it was only 4 miles over a very easy path. We arrived at the Shira 1 camp, greeted by an already-set-up tent, dining tent, “private bathroom,” and a smiling porter’s crew. We had started at 3407 meters and ascended to 3610 meters at Shira 1.

*Our dining hall, Sleeping tent, and private bathroom (far right)*

It seemed magical and only reinforced my expectations that this wasn’t going to be as daunting as I feared.

Because Lisa had hiked the "Northern Circuit” route two years earlier, she assumed that the Lemosho route would be similar but different in interesting ways. She had no doubt that I could successfully summit on a route like she had done.

She didn’t expect that “Lemosho" would be significantly more physically challenging than her first hike.

But it was. Hindsight, as they say . . .

After poking around the campground, catching glimpses of Kili as clouds intermittently hid her from views, eating a hot yummy dinner prepared by our chef, Badru, and served by our waiter, “Dio,” we hit the hay. At that point, Lisa gave me a note written by Paul . . . and each night thereafter, I received a note from him as well as one from a grandchild or daughter. I was so touched by the thoughtfulness and pre-planning of these messages of encouragement. So very kind.

The temps dropped dramatically after the sun set and we snuggled into our “0”-rated sleeping bags for what we hoped would be a good night of sleep. Only hours later, however, was one of my ongoing fears regarding this trek realized: bladder vs hydrating battles. I knew there would be an ongoing challenge between staying hydrated and getting uninterrupted sleep…and I knew that hydration had to win, but . . . Getting up during the night and crawling out of the tiny tent opening into frost-covered darkness to empty my bladder was a real struggle. I fought off the need to go for as long as I could, but eventually had to succumb to nature. Admittedly, the thought of a catheter seemed very appealing during those moments. Though painful, the silver lining was having nightly views of Kili against a clear, moonlit sky and that was truly reward.

Thursday, June 5: Day 2 of hiking. Shira 1 to Shira 2. 5.5 miles to elevation 3,850 meters.

After a yummy breakfast and great medical checks, along with our daily dose of Diomax (for altitude acclimatization), we set out for Shira 2. Halfway to our destination, we were served tea in the middle of “nowhere.” Altezza really does it right!! Tea and snacks, to fuel the journey. It was delightful.

The second half of the hike was more challenging as we gained in altitude, and further impacted by a heavy mist which not only penetrated us with wetness, but also obscured any views. Though an acclimatization hike was planned for after arriving at Shira 2, our guides canceled it due to the weather and we instead spent the afternoon resting and reading.

During that time, the questions began to circulate in my head: ”Could I do this?” “What was I thinking when I decided this was a good idea?” etc. I expressed my fears over dinner, with a few tears mixed in, and sweet Lisa just listened and reassured me.

She also reminded me that this trek was about the journey, not about the summit.

Friday, June 6: Day 3 of hiking: Shira 2 to Lava Tower to Baranco

After a better night of sleep (praise Jesus!), we witnessed a beautiful sunrise behind Kili, had breakfast, and set out for Baranco Camp via Lava Tower. This was an acclimatization hike, which started out clear and beautiful but was soon accompanied by rain. We ascended to Lava Tower at 4,600 meters and after a hot lunch there, we hiked to Baranco Camp, back down to 3900 meters and logged 10 miles. It was a tough hike, but not as tough as I had imagined based on Kombe’s description.

A bit of nausea visited me this night, with a corresponding lack of appetite, but I forced myself to eat and drink. I passed the med check with no trouble, thankfully, and Lis and I retired after dinner with our “Alltezza Hot Water Bunnies”—another amazing feature of how well Altezza takes care of its clients. Every night we went to bed with two hot water bottles sporting Altezza bunny covers and they added to our sleeping comfort in that otherwise freezing world.

*Night views . . . spectacular and freezing*

Saturday, June 7: Day 4 of hiking. Baranco Camp to Karanga: 4 miles

A beautiful morning in Baranco Canyon . . . a river running through it, hosting small waterfalls and spouting gurgling sounds. Across the river, we began what was a 1-mile ascent up the “Baranco Wall”—straight up out of the canyon. This was a hands-and-feet climb for the first half-mile and thankfully, Jackson carried both my (very light, basically hydro-pack) backpack and my trekking sticks. Though challenging, it was interesting and “fun,” scrambling up the side of the canyon wall with lots of company. Beyond incredible to me was observing the porters making their way up the canyon walls while balancing 40# duffles on their heads. Mind blowing.

*And we’re off to Karanga: but first, up the Baranco Wall. No joke.*

Tea was set for us when we made it to the top of the wall followed by 3 more miles of hiking to Karanga Base Camp. Once Karanga came into view, Kombe had forewarned us that if you could walk straight ahead, we’d be only 20-30 minutes away . . . but unfortunately, between where we were and where Karanga was, a deep canyon exists.

So very counterintuitively, we picked our way down the canyon (.75 miles) and back up the canyon (a very steep .75 miles) and were greatly relieved to settle in for the night in Karanga.

Sunday, June 8–Monday, June 9: Day 5-6 of hiking. Karanga to Barafu to Summit to Barafu

The hardest day has arrived. We hiked about 4 miles from Karanga to Barafu in the morning, which was not a hard hike physically but definitely mentally, as the reality that in less than 12 hrs we would be attempting the summit. The rain held off (a mercy) and we hiked in cloudy and chilly weather, arriving at Barafu around 1:30 pm. Hot lunch was awaiting us, which had no appeal to me but which I did my best to consume. We’ve become very good friends with Dio, our waiter, who joins us in praying at each meal. By now, he’s even praying for some of the meals. We have a very sweet bond with him.

Sleeping was on the agenda from 3–9 pm., but honestly, between anxiety about the impending summit climb, and it being broad daylight with plenty of activity going on around us, sleep was rather elusive. We both managed to catch a few winks and suddenly it was 9 pm and we were being served “breakfast” for “dinner.” By 11:30 pm, we were encased (entombed?) in our “summit” clothes which made it near impossible to move and we began our ascent under a full-moon-lightened night. We were 4 miles from the summit, with the expectation of an 8-hour climb . . . hoping to reach the summit at sunrise.

Unfortunately this is where things derailed. Traveling together with Kombe, Jackson, and now an added team member, Isaac, Lisa and I slowly began picking our way up the very steep, rocky path. My breathing was hard and my legs felt like lead, and though I kept reciting Psalm 121 (“I look unto the hills…where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord.”) or, singing in my head, “One step at a time…I’m climbing my mountain, one step at a time…” or, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me”, none of the mental tricks or spiritual truths seemed to be making a difference.

At 17,451’, I noticed that the moon had set and I couldn’t believe it! I was even more shocked to hear that it was 5:30 am and that we had been hiking 6 hours and only covered 2 miles. Jackson and Kombe talked with Lisa and suggested that at our pace, we still had a very long way to go. They said they were willing, but wanted to know what I wanted.

By then, my oxygen saturation had dropped to the mid-50’s, my stomach was rebelling, and all I wanted to do was go to sleep—so it took me a nano-second to say, “Let’s go down.”

Though disappointed that we would not reach the goal of the summit, I was relieved when the decision was made and we began our descent. Our guides were wonderful. Recognizing that I was suffering from altitude sickness, they flanked me and made sure I made it safely down. We hiked down as the sun rose, which was beautiful, and except for three “bathroom” breaks to relieve my revolting stomach, we made it down before 8 am.

*Not feeling the best, but so thankful to be traveling with the best.*

I went straight to bed and received support oxygen for the next couple of hours, helping my recovery immensely. By noon, I was ready to “eat” (not much) and hike the 1.5 hours downhill to Millennium Camp where we spent our final night on the mountain.

*We hiked down to Millennium Camp the afternoon of the not-reached summit.*

Tuesday, June 10: Millennium Camp to End of Trail

*One last breakfast served by our wonderful waiter Dio.*

Up early for our 10-mile hike down through the rain forest, I was feeling mostly normal and had no concerns about descending. We were so blessed with a non-rainy hike through the rain forest! Lots of great conversations and beautiful scenery. There were even a few vistas with stunning views of Kili, framed by verdant green tree branches. Though eventually several blisters on one foot and two jammed toes on the other made hiking a bit painful, we made it in good time and had a celebration lunch before boarding the bus back to the Aisha Hotel in Machame.

Jackson and Kombe presented us both with medals, which didn’t require summiting to receive. Jackson kindly affirmed the very heroic efforts of “Mama” who almost made it. He chose his words carefully and assured us that turning around was the right decision. “Mama, you are far more important than reaching the summit.”

*Kombe and Jackson were the absolute best. So grateful for them!*

Though exhausted mentally and physically, Lisa and I chatted the 1.5-hour drive back to the hotel, beginning to relive the most poignant moments of the previous 7 days. Any disappointment in not reaching the summit was overwhelmed by the fullness of my heart at having this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and experience with her. I often mused during the trek that our roles have surely reversed: she was parenting me each step of the way. Her words of confidence, encouragement, affirmation, courage, and pride fed my soul day by day. Though at 5:30 am the day before I had encouraged her to continue the climb to the top with one of the guides, she would hear nothing of it. “This hike is about us, not about summiting.” Sacrificial love.

Though I will be processing this experience or a long time to come, the most important lesson capturing my focus is that it’s more about the journey than the destination. Admittedly, I am a destination person. I tap the wall, gate, fence at any turn-around point, signaling completion of a goal.

I don’t remember not completing a hiking goal until now.

But as I reflect on each day of this epic journey, I am filled with awe and wonder at the majesty of God, reflected in His creation. I’m astounded by what I could hear in the silence. No phones, No distractions. Only the pure sounds of nature (and a lot of very heavy breathing. :) ). I have an appreciation for “Po-le. Po-le.” Slowly. Slowly.

“Slowly" has never been my strong suit.

I’ve come back liking how it feels.

I’ve also been absolutely overwhelmed by the immense of amount of support I’ve had from you, “my people.” From texts, emails, calls, notes, and prayers, I have felt loved beyond measure by people who mean so very much to me. "Thank you" will never adequately convey the gratitude I have for each of your expressions of care, but believe me when I say I could never have gotten to 17,416 feet without you. I am blessed beyond.

Most of all, with all of the conveniences and comforts of life mostly gone, with the noisy distractions of the world silenced, I was aware of the magnitude of God and His omnipresence, which echoed the question of the Psalmist, “What is man that you are mindful of him?” A tiny speck against the landscape of the massive, and yet known and loved and called by name by the Creator of it all.

All praise is His!