Back in September, I did a six-day mountaineering course on Mount Baker, a 10,781 foot active volcano in Washington's northern Cascades. This might very well have been the coolest thing I did all year. In one week's time, I learned how to strap crampons onto my double-walled mountaineering boots (and walk on a glacier in them), set up a tent on a glacier using snow anchors, tie an alpine butterfly knot, self-arrest with an ice axe, and pee in a Nalgene water bottle. 

Thanks to David and Ari of Alpine Ascents, for taking good care of our crew, making sure we didn't die, and leading us across countless crevasses, to the summit of Mount Baker. 

In summer 2018, I had the privilege of working for Pepperdine as the assistant director for an international program in which 25 students spent a month living and serving with the Mission at Natuvu Creek in Fiji. If you scroll through the photos below, if it looks like we played a lot of volleyball, it's because we did. If it looks like everywhere you looked was an idyllic island scene, that's because it was. But you'll also see images of work, human connection, learning, studying, worship, beauty, laughter, and helping out any way we could. Check out Pepperdine's international program website for more information about Pepperdine's summer international programs, including Fiji >> 

​​JUMP TO >>  DAY 1    DAY 2    DAY 3    DAY 4    DAY 5

Day 5 is the last day in the 5-day Marangu Route, and the least exciting, because it's all back tracking across the distance you covered on Day 1 and Day 2. All downhill meant no more "pole-pole," much less water consumed, and fewer short stops. I took very few photos and just enjoyed the walk down. 

​Catch up on the story so far by jumping to >>  DAY 1    DAY 2    DAY 3    DAY 4    DAY 5 ...and as always, please don't hesitate to email me ([email protected]) with additional questions. ​

^^ These aren't my photos, but I for some reason didn't take any photos at Kibo Hut, so I wanted readers to know what the sleeping quarters are like. 

11:00 PM, Kibo Hut, 15,845 feet --
"The lights in our barrack flicker on and I hear Alex, our guide's voice, "It's time to wake up!" Against all odds, I feel like I got a full night's sleep, even though I know it was just 2 hours ago that I closed my eyes. I hate waiting for anything, especially things that cause anxiety, so I'm thrilled to finally be awake and making movements toward the summit. 
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"First things first, after pulling on my SmartWool leggings and a pair of sweats and zipping up my down parka, I grab my camera and travel tripod and scamper out into the gravel yard to set up some shots of the awe-inspiring Milky Way. At over 15,000 feet and miles from the nearest city, Kibo Hut has the best view of the night sky I've ever seen." 

12:00 AM, Kibo Hut, 15,845 feet--
"Headlamps flicker on and Dusty and I tighten our grips on the handles of our hiking poles as we (Patrick, Dusty, me, Alex) take our first steps in single file across the gravel yard, straight toward the towering wall of starless space that identifies Kibo. For the first of many times tonight, I thank God that I can't actually make out the top, some 3,000 feet above. It would just be too demoralizing." 

​?? AM --
"I have intentionally ignored my watch all morning/night long because I really just don't want to know what ungodly hour it is that I am gasping for air in the subzero darkness. All I know is Dusty is in front of me, Patrick is in front of him, and Alex is behind me, as we lockstep the switchbacks like a cold, derailed choo choo train. Every few minutes, we stop for a sanctioned water break, announced by Alex's chirp of, "Sippy sippy." and then without fail, five minutes later, Dusty or I or both ask for a "Quick stop!" to recycle the results of that hydration back into the earth. Needless to say, it is slow going.

"The walking is not difficult. Our pace is the same "pole-pole" we've been observing since Day 1. Each footstep is laid a couple inches in front of the last one. The agonizingly slow pace is set by whichever of our guides happens to be in front. At this particular moment, it's Patrick. Thus we make our way up the trail like an outdoorsy funeral procession. So no, it's not the walking that's difficult. It's everything else. It's the freezing air with it's unnerving lack of oxygen that leaves me dissatisfied with every breath. It's the cold, constantly waging war on the easy & weak prey of my fingers and toes. It's my tummy, so angry to have been forced awake at 2 am and thus sends me queasy mixed messages. It's the knowledge that this little outing can and will become immeasurably more difficult and miserable as the night wears on and as the altitude increases.
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"We pass Williams Point. It's less than a third up the face of Kibo, and well before the going gets tough. A couple hours pass, punctuated by water breaks, quick stops, wardrobe changes, and the growing realization that my stomach is very angry with me. The jelly beans and Skittles I brought along to satisfy me for this journey are unappetizing and not enough. I'm craving real food, not sugar."

Around 5:00 AM -- 
"Someone comments that it is starting to get light, and I turn my gaze to the Eastern horizon, where a scarlet layer has emerged, like food coloring pooling in the bottom of a glass of water. I also notice the tiny sliver of moon and what appears to be city lights, twinkling in clusters thousands of feet below."

Around 6:00 AM -- 
"I know we're getting close to the crater rim because the footing has changed from scree and gravel to large, glittery, jagged volcanic boulders that are exceedingly difficult to navigate, especially now that we are above 17,000 feet. Dusty has started asking for "short stops" with increasing frequency and I silently grumble that he's going to set us behind schedule (even though we're not working on any kind of schedule.)" 

Sunrise, Gillman's Point -- 
"We finally reach Gillman's Point (18,638 feet), traditionally the most daunting milestone of the Marangu Route. People say that if you can make it to Gillman's, you can make it to the summit. Dusty calls another "short stop" and comments to me how exhausted he is, and asks if I'm exhausted too. "Yep," my reply is curt. We did, after all, just climb from 14,000 feet to 18,800 feet in the middle of the night. Yes, I'm exhausted. Our guides tell us we've got another hour hand a half walk along the crater rim to reach the summit, Uhuru Peak. "Lots of up and down. Not hard," they say. Dusty's sigh is less than enthusiastic." 

Two hours later --
"We are still trudging along the rim at a snail's pace. The sun is well past risen and has brought strong, cold winds along with it. Dusty's "short stops" are getting longer and longer and more frequent. I begin to wonder if we'll ever reach the summit. My wondering turns to concern as I watch his feet stumble aimlessly up the trail and his crestfallen plea to me, "How much farther?" I wonder if I should suggest the unthinkable: to pull the plug and turn around. His strength and resolve seem to be dwindling fast. I had wanted to stride up the last hill to the summit with him, hand in hand, but now I'm starting to regret suggesting Kilimanjaro as our vacation." 

We woke up at Horombo Hut, feeling well-rested and ready for another day of hiking. After shoveling down another huge breakfast (they feed you a LOT on these treks), we packed up for the walk across the lunar desert toward Kibo Hut. 

​Catch up on the story so far by jumping to >> DAY 1    DAY 2    DAY 3    DAY 4    DAY 5 ...and as always, please don't hesitate to email me ([email protected]) with additional questions. ​

Mawenzi (16,893 feet) makes for some stunning photo ops on the trail. 

Just like yesterday (Day 02), our lunch stop occurred over 2/3 of the way through the day's hike, at a little bathroom and picnic area sheltered by a pile of large boulders. After lunch, we only had about an hour/hour and a half walk up to Kibo Hut. 

5:00 PM, Kibo Hut, 15,845 feet --
"The sun has just disappeared behind the crater rim that towers above this sparse stone hut at 4720 m (15,485 feet). As is usual at high altitude, the air is cold but the sun is strong. I'm sporting a 3 out of ten headache and pasty film of zinc sunscreen left over from our trudge across the lunar desert this afternoon. Every time I step outside to visit the bathrooms, a short walk away (and that' pretty frequent), I start out at a brisk walking pace and quickly find myself winded and sucking air. By the time I squat over the hole in the stall, I have throbbing gray spots in every corner of my vision. This is the phase of the trek I remember with the least amount of fondness from 2009. 
Summit attempts will begin at around midnight tonight, so the hours between now and then consist of shoveling calorie-dense dinners into not-so-hungry bellies and packing/repacking/arranging our outfits for tomorrow. 

6:00 PM --
"We sit around the cramped table in our barrack-like sleeping quarters, chatting excitedly about summit day. There are only 5 people from Kibo Hut making summit attempts in the morning. This includes Dusty & me, Sandra & Martin, a 20-something couple from Denmark, and Raymond, a Swiss guy who is studying in South Africa. We five, plus our guides and assistant guides, will don head lamps and down puffy jackets and trudge up the side of Kibo in the dark. Best of luck to us all." ​

Day 2 journal entry: 

"We left Mandara Hut this morning at 8:30 sharp. This was after a 6:30 hot tea/coffee wake up call, 7:30 breakfast, packing up, filling water bottles, and taking one last leak before hitting the trail. About an hour out of camp, the lush rain forest turned to stiff grass clusters under trees covered with dry moss, and an hour after that, the tree dwindled entirely, replaced by scrubby, chaparral-like vegetation. By this time, Dusty and I had each peed about 6 times and (in retrospect) wastefully hydrated our bodies. We had no idea how hot it was about to get. 

Mid-morning (well before lunch) brought about the first glimpse of Kilimanjaro's gray, trapezoidal peak, Kibo. At the same time we also saw the picturesque sharktooth of Mawenzi, Kibo's neighbor, at about 17,500 feet [actual elevation 16,893 feet]. An excited photo op ensured. By the time the lunch stop was announced, we were starving and tired. 

We slathered on sunscreen and took refuge in some meager shade for lunch at 1:00 pm. By that point, we each had about a liter of water left, having literally guzzled it away all morning. First lesson learned: drink a lot, but not too much. 
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Though the food rejuvenated us, the prospect of only being half-done with with day's work was demoralizing. Imagine our surprise when two short hours later, we crested a hill to see Horombo Huts just 500 meters down the trail. It appears our guides weren't too concerned with exactly dividing our day's hiking distance in half, with lunch in the middle. Turns out lunch occurred 4.5 hours into a 6.5 hour hike. Second lesson learned: take hunger into own hands, and snack on the trail before lunch." 

​Catch up on the story so far by jumping to >>  DAY 1    DAY 2    DAY 3    DAY 4    DAY 5 ...and as always, please don't hesitate to email me ([email protected]) with additional questions. ​

Dusty and I go on lots of adventures together, but we are intentional about planning one big adventure every year. We alternate who picks the destination, and it usually pulls us to the edge of our personal and collective comfort zones—which is exactly where we fell in love in the first place. This year I got to pick, and I chose climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro. 

At 19,341 feet, Mt. Kilimanjaro is the tallest mountain in Africa, earning it a spot on the list of the "Seven Summits" (the tallest mountain on each continent, a bucket list accomplishment for individuals who really like checklists). I've climbed Kilimanjaro once before, in 2009 with a girlfriend, but it's something I've always wanted to share with Dusty. And like I always say, anything worth doing is worth doing twice. 

It is illegal to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro without hiring a guide, so our first step was to select a guide service. We booked with Tanzania on Foot, our head guide was Alex, and our assistant guide was Patrick. We chose the 5-day Marangu Route, also known as The Coca-Cola Route, because it's the most popular route for tourists, due to it's brevity. (Most other routes up Kilimanjaro are 6- or even 7-day routes, allowing more time for acclimation and better summit odds.) Going into the climb, we knew that choosing a 5-day itinerary would hurt our chances of summiting (Marangu's 5-day itinerary has about a 50% summit rate), but our travel schedule was tight and only allowed for five days. We decided to risk it. 

As we packed and agonized over every little cubic centimeter of our backpacks, one of the major questions we kept asking (and googling) was, "What should we wear to hike?... and sleep?... and on summit day?" Every hiker knows that gear selection can be a stress-inducing process, and this was one such case. Hence, the inspiration for the series title. For each day, I'll break down what I (and sometimes Dusty) wore and when and why (and what we might have done differently). I'll also provide other information as it pertains to our story (and your Kili aspirations). 

My hope is this series of articles comes in handy to some other Kilimanjaro hopeful somewhere along the way. Catch up with the rest of the story by jumping to >> ​ DAY 1    DAY 2    DAY 3    DAY 4    DAY 5 ...and as always, please don't hesitate to email me ([email protected]) with additional questions. 

After the Holy Yoga Retreat, Heather and I took a little detour up the 64 north to the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. Being early May in the high desert, we naturally got a spectacular sunset, followed by a night of rain and a morning of snow. After having breakfast at the historic El Tovar Hotel (Polenta Corn Hot Cakes with Prickly Pear-Pistachio Butter), we headed for the Hoover Dam, because who doesn't want to see the world's longest concrete arch? 

Like these? I shoot lots of events! Check out my events page or shoot me an email if you're looking for coverage of an upcoming activity.