Climbing Mt. Kenya (together)
2 months ago, the Davises, who have been mentors and dear friends since we came to Kenya, asked us if we wanted to climb Mount Kenya with them before they moved back to the States. Knowing the window to hike with them was nearly closed, we said yes with about 3 weeks to train. I climb three flights of stairs to my office everyday and the walk to RVA for church and evening strolls with our dog have a decent bit of elevation change, but it was nothing close to what I should have done to get ready for the summit. This was David’s fifth time up the mountain, but for the rest of us, it was the first.
We hiked over three days across stunning views and beautiful fields from hostel to hostel with a guide who holds the world record for speed climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro. I knew I was the weakest link (with two teenagers and two mountain bikers as my climbing companions and that was confirmed when I was placed as the pacesetter for our climb. Every day we gained another 1000 meters (3000 feet) of elevation, knowing on summit day we would reach 4985m. We had perfect weather with very little rain, although summit day had relentless winds as we trudged into the alpine desert in the dark to make sure we could summit at sunrise.
After summiting, Rich asked me if which was harder – climbing Mt. Kenya or medical school. I responded immediately that climbing that mountain was the hardest thing I had ever done in my life. Annabelle and David seemed to sprint up the mountain. We sang and told stories and reminisced, and sometimes just walked in silence and admired the beauty. I am so very very glad we did it together (and that I proved the stairs to my office are an actual workout :)).
My favorite moment of the hike was at 3am when we were starting our summit journey. We were hiking up through a canyon with the shadow of Lenana peak looming over us and Belle started singing Coldplay’s Yellow. “Look at the stars, see how they shine for you.” I had been feeling frantic, but the cadence steadied my breathing as she and David gently encouraged and supported me as we climbed. As we rounded the final ropes to the summit, I made the mistake of looking down at the drop off and nearly froze in panic, but John our guide, and David, right behind me distracted and steadied me and I pushed on to where Rich, Lydia, and Annabelle had already reached the top.
David said it was the first time he had seen the peak without snow, but the sunrise was breathtaking all the same. As we descended, the landscape changed around every corner, my sight focused in the exhaustion and exhilaration after the hard work of climbing. When we reached our final camp, I slept for twelve straight hours, and I felt every step as I walked to my office on Tuesday morning.
What has stayed with me most, though, isn’t the summit. It was climbing with David, Annabelle, Lydia and Rich (and missing our other family members). We have walked together through challenges far more significant than the mountain — encouraging each other, praying for each other, finding reasons to laugh together even when things are hard – quietly helping me keep putting one foot in front of the other. Climbing Mt. Kenya together felt like a fitting microcosm for the end of our years together in Kenya.
There were stretches where I was convinced I couldn’t keep going, and someone beside me steadied my pace or reminded me to look up. Looking back, the summit feels almost impossible. But then again, so do many of the best gifts things: reached not in one dramatic moment, but through the steady faithfulness of people who keep walking with us until we arrive.
