I’m sound asleep and dreaming. Faces are appearing before my eyes, one after the next...my grandmother, Jack, Anna, my sister, Paul...I can’t recall them all, but the last face that flashes is that of a Colobus monkey, like the ones we saw in the rainforest on the first two days of our hike, the black and white contrast of their fur seemingly so real. And then suddenly, I wake and hear clear as day outside my tent, the voices of Darryl and Jeff. They’re talking about how amazing the stars are tonight.

“That Milky Way...UNBELIEVABLE!”, Jeff exclaims...and then I’m back asleep in what feels like seconds.

I wake again at some point for my nightly visit to the toilet. It’s cold. I can see my breath as I flip on my headlamp inside my tent, but I have learned it’s best to rip the bandaid off and just go, so that is exactly what I do. Plus, I know my reward of getting to see that beautiful Milky Way awaits and will totally be worth it.

Jeff was right. The Milky Way was simply unbelievable, flanked on all sides by too many heavenly stars for the eyes to count. Once again, I get the sense that I am the closest to heaven I’ve ever been.

I return to my tent and grasp onto my warm Nalgene bottle with my toes and feet, warming myself once again as I snuggle back into my sleeping bag and before I know it, I am dreaming once again.

I’m at a local doctors office. My teammate, Vinti, is the Nurse. My entire team is there with me along with our guides, and although I can’t see them, I know our entire crew is there as well.

Apparently my friend Adria from back home called in a favor so I could be seen by this doctor. Vinti and the doctor are speaking to each other in a language I don’t recognize. She tells me I will need my sinuses drained and the doctor holds up a long needle. I ask if either of them could explain in English why? Why do I need my sinuses drained? I feel fine. What is going on?

The doctor gets very upset and starts shouting at me with an accent that he has taken time out of his day to see me as a favor. I explain that I am very grateful for that, but that I want to understand what is happening. I explain calmly that I am advocating for myself. He shouts louder. Vinti tells him to please calm down. And then my teammate Zach steps in and says in a stern voice, “Sir, this is not the group you want to mess with.” And then the entire team steps in to protect me and speak up, followed by the guides, and finally our entire crew.

I wake, just before 6 AM, and think first “what the hell was that? That dream was insane!” and then I wonder if this dream means that I feel safe and protected and supported here? After all, my daily mantra has been “I am safe. I am loved. I am guided.”

I feel so calm and so alive this morning.

Moments later the morning ritual begins. Godlisten delivers a mug of hot, black coffee to my tent door. He then returns within 30 minutes to deliver a basin filled with warm wash water. About 15 minutes later, Frederik arrives to conduct my morning morning health check. I’m feeling good and I feel happy to see that even at this elevation, my pulse is 91 and my oxygen saturation is 92%.

I feel that the rituals of our day are all by design, meant to set us up for success, always knowing what to expect when, always consistent. The rituals of our day...waking to coffee, a warm wash basin, the morning health check, breakfast, our debrief for the day ahead, strapping on our packs for the day, taking a picture before we depart, beginning to hike, one foot in front of the next, pole pole, and more...keep us present, in the moment, and comfortable in some strange way in such an unknown, foreign environment. I grow to appreciate every single one of them more and more with each day that passes.

It’s colder this morning than it has been the past few days, but I know when the sign fully rises it will quickly warm up. We have been blessed once again with clear skies and sunshine for days. Despite this, I dress in more layers than usual because we were informed by our guides last night that at 15,200 feet, our highest elevation for today, it will likely be cold and windy.

Thank God I did...because it was.

I woke up hungry this morning which made me happy because the guides have continued to remind us that a good appetite, especially as our altitude increases, is a very good sign.

Breakfast is outstanding like all of our meals have been. I find myself in awe at every meal of the quality of the food and the love and care that goes into each meal. I tell my family later that it’s better than most five star hotels would serve. I refer to myself as an animal at most meals, eating nearly everything on every plate I am served. Energy is key to making it to the top and I remind myself of that when it’s time to fuel my body.

Frederik is our leader for today’s hike. We depart around 8:40 AM, just after I spread my sand and repeat my mantra three times, this morning under a beautiful shade tree at camp instead of at the camp sign which was a ways downhill. I love this part of my own personal morning ritual...spreading my sand. It serves as an offering to the mountain, to the Universe, and it brings me peace and leaves me feeling calm and prepared for whatever lies ahead each day.

Today, we will climb over 2,000 feet, arriving at the Lava Tower for lunch, our highest point yet at 15,200 feet. We will then descend back down to the Barranco camp for the night at 13,200 feet once again. We will hike a total of nine miles and just over nine hours. This climb is specifically meant to acclimatize our bodies for the coming days. We have been told that today, of all days, if your body doesn’t like it, it will display signs of altitude sickness often for the first time.

I wonder how my body will do.

I trust this process and know I am safe, loved, and guided.

Little do I know that over 100 heart rocks will line my path and guide me today.

The hike today is, simply put, up, up, and more up. The team definitely appreciates the slow, slow pace that Frederik has set as evidenced by multiple comments along the way. I know I am grateful to not feel rushed, to feel calm, and to know that we will arrive to the Lava Tower when we arrive to the Lava Tower.

Our first break for the day is at a large rock with no cover from the sun blazing above. We transitioned from Moreland to High Alpine very quickly today, entering that rocky zone once again with minimal vegetation around us.

At the break, we all shed at least one layer and reapply sunscreen to avoid a burn. Being so close to the equator, the sun is STRONG and a burn would be devastating in these conditions, with days of physical and mental work ahead.

While enjoying some water and a snack, I share with my friend Christina that in my tent, I have been trying to wind down by doing my normal deep breathing exercises, a form of meditative breathing that I love to do after a long day at home. But I’ve noticed that it hasn’t been as easy to do this breathing due to the elevation, and so I share that I’ve adjusted the exercise to not breathe as deep, but still achieve that release and state of calm at the end of my day. As I talk, I find myself thinking how each day requires the body and mind to continually adjust and I am thankful that I have been able to do so and maintain my sense of calm and peace.

I also share with Christina my daily mantra, and she does the same informing me that hers is “I am brave. I am strong. I am loved”. This comes from “Pajamas for Trauma”, which I later learn is a non-profit that she and her family began Pennsylvania after experiencing their own personal family tragedy.

I love Christina’s mantra and share with her that I’m adding it to my list for this journey and beyond.

Shortly after our break, as we continue hiking up, up, and up, Wilfred extends his hand, opens his palm, and shows us a piece of shiny, black, glass-like rock that he has found. He tells us that it is obsidian rock, which can only be found in volcanic environments. This type of rock is formed above the surface of the Earth where flowing lava comes in contact with cold air or water. This obsidian rock was formed right here on Mount Kilimanjaro when the volcano erupted. How fucking cool is that?!?!

We all keep our eyes peeled looking for a piece of our own to take home, and with our guides help and help from one another, we each find at least one piece of not more. My teammate Vinti gives us the idea to consider making a piece of jewelry out of the rock when we return home. I absolutely love this idea and as we continue to climb, I find myself thinking of what I will have made and for whom.

On our next break, the Lava Tower is in sight but still over an hour away. We are at an elevation of approximately 14,700 feet with the summit of Kilimanjaro in sight as well, yet still days away.

It is stunning to see her this close up. It feels surreal, but I remind myself it is real. I am here now. We are all closer than we have ever been and we can taste it.

The winds are strong and cold, as promised by our guides, and we are exposed to the elements so we all add back a layer along with our gloves for warmth. I put on my black, stretchy gloves from The Dollar Store, just enough to keep my hands warm for the remainder of the day and the best $1 I have ever spent! The gloves become a running joke on the trip and by the end of our climb, I sadly must throw them away as they have been used and abused to the max.

The final push to the Lava tower at 15,200 feet feels like forever. Pole pole we go as we make our final approach. The team is quiet. I later learn that some teammates were feeling nauseas, had a terrible headache, or felt fuzzy in the head as we approached. One foot in front of the other, I remind myself. You have everything you need exactly when you need it, I repeat over and over and before I realize it, I lift my head, look up and, and am greeted by the welcome sign at the Lava Tower.

We have made it.

We are at the Lava Tower and before my eyes is our green mess tent, full of warmth, with a beautiful lunch awaiting. Our green “Bank of America” tent is even set up for us at 15,200 feet! How did we get so lucky?!?!

I feel like I have hit the jackpot over and over on this journey thanks to our tour company, Embark Exploration Company, and thanks to our amazing crew of angels on earth, supporting us and loving us every step of the way.

As we enter the mess tent, we all welcome the shelter from the cold wind and elements that we have been combatting for the last hour plus. I spot a Snickers bar at my place setting, and inhale it like I have never inhaled a Snickers bar before or likely will again.

BEST. TREAT. EVER.

During lunch, my teammate Colin asks Frederik to remind him of the lyrics to the Kilimanjaro Song. I am so happy because I have been singing it in pieces to myself the entire way up to the Lava Tower today, and couldn’t recall all the words. It was driving me nuts!

Frederik graciously sings the song for us and then I ask him if he would mind repeating it just once more so that I can write the lyrics in my phone for safe keeping and most importantly, to practice it. I want to sing it at bedtime for my little loves when I return home, and I do the very first night.

Jambo! Jambo bwana!
Habari gani? Mzuri sana!

Wageni, mwakaribishwa!

Kilimanjaro? Hakuna matata!

In English, the lyrics read:

Hello! Hello sir!
How are you? Very well!

Guests, you are welcome!

Kilimanjaro? No trouble!

Such a simple, silly song that will forever hold more meaning than I could possibly put into words.

After lunch, we begin our descent to Barranco Camp where we will spend the night. It takes about two hours total to descend and at some point on our way down, my knees begin to hate me. It feels steep and continuous. We had gone up, up, and up all morning and now we were going down, down, down.

Wilfred and Frederik share along the way where a rock avalanche had occurred just this past Fall, splitting up their group for the day. Wilfred, who’s group had just passed the point of the rock fall, was able to continue on to Barranco Camp. Unfortunately, Frederik’s group was stopped just before the rock avalanche and as a result, was forced to turn back to Shira 2 Camp, approximately 5 hours backwards, to stay the night, only to return to the Lava Tower and continue on past Barranco Camp directly to the next camp. I can not even imagine the feeling of having to go backwards after such a long and physically taxing day only to repeat that climb and more the next day. But the mountain is unpredictable and the most important thing is to be smart and safe at all times.

As we continue down, we begin to see countless Dendrosenecio kilimanjari, the Jurassic Park like trees, along with giant rock structures and even some beautiful waterfalls lining our path.

When the Barranco Camp is finally in sight below, my teammate Vinti puts her foot on the gas and gets ahead of the group, desperately wanting to get to camp and rest her body. Jeff, Colin, and I follow suit. I had realized that if I made it to camp before 5:00 PM on the East Coast, I could call my little loves before they left for school for the day. We had been told that this camp would offer full cell service and there was absolutely no way anything was getting in my way of that phone call. For the first time while hiking, I put on my music and went for it, full speed ahead.

I could feel my heartbeat speed up, a huge smile form on my face, and a sense of accomplishment at all that my body and mind had overcome and achieved during this day.

I cranked up the volume as NEEDTOBREATHE’s song “Brother”, featuring Gavin DeGraw, played like an anthem in my final steps to camp.

“...Brother let me be your shelter
Never leave you all alone
I can be the one you call
When you're low
Brother let me be your fortress
When the night winds are driving on
Be the one to light the way
Bring you home...”

I sang out loud. Tears welled in my eyes. And I found myself, trekking poles in the air, letting out a giant celebratory “WOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOO” for all the world to hear.

I had made it and before even taking off my day pack, I dialed my Moms phone to talk to my little loves.

Upon hearing their little morning voices, my face nearly cracked from smiling. What an amazing thing to be able to reach them at 13,200 feet from a camp on Mount Kilimanjaro in Tanzania, Africa.

Thank you modern technology!

After the gift of connecting with my little loves, I sent a few texts and photos to family and friends letting them know I was alive and thriving, and I called Paul once more before making my way to my tent, taking off my boots, washing my body, and shutting down my mind as I got comfortable for evening tea and dinner ahead.

As a group, we were slow moving leading up to dinner. The hike today had taken a toll on several team members in terms of the altitude, and we were all feeling tired from the trek.

Before dinner, Augustine did our evening health checks. My pulse was 81 and my oxygen saturation was a strong 92%. I felt great outside of a sore neck from looking down all day and feeling tired which was to be expected after exposing your body and mind to a challenging day out in the elements.

After completing our health checks, Augustine reminded us all to use Tylenol as needed, to make sure we take in at least 3L each day to avoid dehydration, to up our sugar intake, and other tips to help combat and avoid symptoms of altitude sickness.

Sosten and Godlisten then brought us our dinner with a main course of banana stew. It tasted exactly like my Moms beef stew, one of my all time favorite meals. It reminded me of home and was exactly what my body needed. It was freakin awesome and I ate it up like an animal!

After dinner, we all enjoyed a mug of ginger tea with lemon, warming our bodies for the cold night ahead. As we drank, we received our briefing for the following day when we would meet and climb the infamous Barranco Wall.

I had no idea what this wall was, but the majority of my teammates did. Yet another example of my intentional lack of research in advance of this journey. It was proving to serve me well, not knowing specifics of what lie ahead, forcing me to truly experience this adventure moment to moment, as it unfolded right before my eyes. It lined up perfectly with what the guides kept reminding us of...one day at a time.

Staying in the moment has proven to be a necessity for me personally. It has helped me endure the long days, the elevation, and the cold nights. It has helped me maintain a giant sense of wonder and excitement in every moment. And it has kept me from becoming mentally exhausted I think. There have been a few times while laying in my tent where I have found my mind wandering, getting ahead of itself daydreaming about being home and hugging my little loves, enjoying my bed in First Class on my return flight, the summer months ahead filled with long, sunny beach days with Paul and my family in Maine. But every time I would catch myself in these day dream moments and intentionally pull myself back to the here and now. That is the only place my energy, my mind, and my body needed to be for the time being.

As I retired to my tent for the night ahead, I burrowed my Nalgene bottle filled with boiling water deep at the foot of my sleeping bag, wrote and reflected on the journey thus far, and found myself coming back to something I had known well ahead of the start of this trek. Something that had become clear to me back home as individuals began to support me and this journey and began to help me give back to the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society.

It truly does take a village.

That village started back home and has only grown since arriving here.

I am forever grateful for our village.

My body and mind are exhausted and need as much rest as they can get before a new day arrives.

My heart is full and I am feeling so happy to get to experience all that is this journey to the summit and beyond.

Usika Mwema.