Climbing for Causes

By now my lungs were aching, but my stubbornness wasn’t going to let me quit. I didn’t want to let an inanimate object like a mountain beat me. But, I fell again, and again, each time making it more difficult to get up. Millard insisted that I rest, but I wanted to keep pushing on. It was on my 11th fall that I looked up and saw the peak, and a torn flag blowing from a pole almost 100 yards away. Then I saw Hugh sitting on a rock; he was hurting, but he’d had enough sense to sit down and rest. I asked him in a dry voice, “Where are the rest?” He pointed towards the flag. There they were, walking single file towards the peak; all but one that is. Nancy was walking back towards Hugh. She helped him to his feet and on towards the summit. She was doing much better than either of us. They were leaning on one another as they walked to the summit together. It was one of the more tender moments I had ever seen. I would’ve given anything to be able to take a picture of that, but I didn’t have the strength to get out my camera. I just lay there on the ground watching them; that image will forever be with me. (How I hope to someday have someone who loves me like that.) I tried to get up and couldn’t. I looked at the flag, and visions of Uncle Henry flashed into my head. Did he feel this way? Was I going to make the same mistake he did? Is this how the Austrian girl at Horombo Hut felt? I honestly considered turning around. The quicker I went down, the sooner I would feel better.

I decided to rest a moment. I went to take a drink from my canteen, but by now most of the contents were frozen. I couldn’t even pour it out to make it lighter, even if I wanted to; I never thought of just leaving it and picking it up on the way down. Risking stomach cramps, I grabbed a small handful of snow to get some moisture into my mouth. It was very cold, but refreshing. I gathered the rest of my strength and made it on to my feet. My lungs still hurt, but I took a step and another, and another. The closer I got to the flag, the stronger I became. I could see the others in the group hugging each other. They were there, and in a few minutes I would be there, too. I turned to look at Millard behind me, and smiled. He patted me on the back and said, “You will make it.” And I did!

I couldn’t believe it; I couldn’t have been more happy or relieved. After hugging everyone from the guides to Tom, I didn’t know what to do, so I sat down and cried. I felt a great sense of accomplishment. Nancy came over to me and put her arms around me: she was crying, too. Then, Hugh came over and put his arms around both of us, and we all fell over. It was one of my proudest moments; my goal was completed! I felt a sense of warmth come over me. I was at the top of Mt. Kilimanjaro, the peak they call Uhuru. It is Swahili, and it means freedom.