Kathmandu

Kathmandu: elev 4,518 feet. SpO2 (Blood Oxygen saturation %) = 98  RHR(Resting Heart Rate)= 72

We landed in Kathmandu late last night. Ty and I were the final two members of wave 3 to arrive. A local representative of IMG, Mohan, met us at the airport, helping us gather our duffels and navigate the chaotic swell of humanity. He then adorned us with carnation necklaces and showed us to a waiting van. Mohan seemed happy in a way that was probably intended to communicate we should not be alarmed by what happened next.  The van leaped out into a sea of honking horns and sputtering vespas.  Headlights came at us from every side, veering away a moment short of impact. Store lights blurred past my window. It was loud, dusty, and everything you have ever seen in movies about this part of the world. Under normal circumstances I might have engaged myself in the process of offering urgent counsel, but I was tired from flight and did not understand the language this traffic spoke. I told myself "this is Nepal" and took to studying my flower necklace. 

The entire team gathered for the first time this morning.  All together there are 22 of us. Some are along for the trek only. Others are climbing peaks other than Everest. But about 12 of us have ambitions for the world's highest summit. I will enjoy getting to know each team member. 

Ty and I spent the afternoon picking up some last minute items around Kathmandu.  Two team members showed us around the city.  One of them is from New York, the other Perth, Australia. IMG paired them up upon arrival as both share the objective of reaching Camp 4 on Everest. One would think they have been life-long friends, such is the playful camaraderie already fostered between the two. They took us to a non-descript third floor office where we could buy a local cellular sim card for $8, and 9 hours of talk time for another $28. Advising Ty and I the local network would "lock out" our smart phones even with these items, our new friends then led us to another place where we could each purchase a brand-new Samsung flip phone for $20. This might be a good math exercise for my friends at Meridian Middle School; Figure out the total cost per minute of talk time and compare that to the rate our existing international calling plan would charge ($2.29/minute) to call home from Nepal.   Ty called his wife (my sister, Noelle) and found the sound quality to be excellent! 

Kathmandu is a busy, noisy place. But the hectic pace of cars and motorcycles is somehow contrasted by a patient people, who I found to be warm and friendly.  Aside from crossing the street, I feel quite safe moving about the city by myself.  Almost everyone speaks enough english to get by. For this I am grateful, given my complete lack of Nepalese. The influence of Buddhism is present all about, as incense burns just around the corner and I am greeted with "Namaste".  People wearing colorful sarongs come and go from old-world temples, as uniformed children climb a pile of bricks on their way to school.  

We will fly to Lukla early tomorrow morning and begin the trek to Everest. 

Know the route.

I leave for Nepal tomorrow. Ty and I will meet up at SeaTac, then fly together to Dubai. We have a 1 day layover before then proceeding to Kathmandu. I will likely post next from there. So, in the mean time, I have two neato toys for you to play with. 

This link will take you to a 3-D animated flyover of the entire Everest southside route I will be climbing. It is very cool! Get to know the route and locations of the camps. 
http://www.everest3d.de/home/home.html

This link will take you to a 3.8 billion pixel image of Everest, again on my route, which you can zoom in on to remarkable detail. 
http://www.npr.org/2012/12/20/167621313/a-billion-pixel-tour-of-mount-everest

Have fun!

Sendoffs and Slideshows

It is getting close now. I leave for Nepal in three days. The upstairs of my home is strewn with gear in various stages of repair and organization. Lin and I go over the hours left, commitments made, and the sparse snatches of time left for us to spend together.  

I did my last slideshow before leaving for Everest. It was at Meridian Middle School, where Lin works as a sign language interpreter. A big shout out to the staff and students there! The thing I like about middle-schoolers, is they have the courage to ask the questions an elementary school student would not, questions like “How do you pee and poop in Antarctica?” Describing the process of handling one’s own frozen excrement is never easy, but knowing Lin was signing my words made it that much stranger. While such inquires are  no doubt legitimate science-based quests for knowledge, I could not help but wonder if in part they were prompted by a desire to see my answers signed by Lin as she stood next to me. This was especially the case with the followup question “Does your pee freeze before it hits the ground?” I am fine either way. They were good kids. 

I have done a few interviews lately. One was with Amy Kepferle at the Cascadia Weekly, a regional variety newspaper. Amy and I were in the original cast of the Upfront Theatre in Bellingham when it opened so many years ago. I called to ask if she might help me get the word out about my fundrasier for the Bellingham Boys & Girls Club. She did a nice piece which you can read at http://www.cascadiaweekly.com/pdfs/issues/201310.pdf It's on page 14. 

The other interview was with The Bellingham Herald.   Kie Raylea, a reporter with the Herald, interviewed me over the course of several phone calls. Kie asked insightful questions that brought me to articulate ideas I had only vaguely bounced around in my head. Her piece was featured on the front page of last Sunday’s paper. A good friend of mine immediately emailed me his congratulations, writing “You’re the first person of my acquaintance who has made the front page of the Herald for something other than criminal activity.”  You can read the Herald article at http://www.bellinghamherald.com/2013/03/24/2933408/bellingham-man-climbs-mount-everest.html 

The Bellingham Boys & Girls Club threw a nice sendoff party for me. The kids there had fashioned a wall size Mt Everest out of individual portraits and offerings of encouragement. One cautioned me to “Watch out for the Abominible Snow Man.” Another featured myself with extraordinarily long icicles hanging from my nose. There had also been geographic confusion, with some children believing I am climbing Mt Everett. You have to love these kids. I was presented with a nice plaque signed by the children, and a Boys & Girls Club flag which I hope to raise at the summit. 

My neighbors, Don and Natala, also threw a sendoff party for me. The whole neighborhood came. I hope each of you reading this enjoys a similar honor some day. It was so heart-warming to receive such encouragement and hopeful wishes from people with whom my only other pedestrian connection is that of fending off the rogue beaver which emerge from Lake Samish.  We are a community renewed, having pledged to break bread again soon regardless of mountain climbs. 

Reading blog entries during the climb.

I intend to do a few things differently with this blog on the upcoming climb and would like to explain them in advance. 

Vital Signs
Many entries will begin with a reading of my Blood-oxygen saturation (Sp02) and my resting heart rate (RHR) as measured by a pulse oximeter. This is a handy little device that clips onto the index finger. The readings should give some idea of how well I am acclimating when compared to earlier visits to a given altitude. As a baseline, I currently read Sp02 98/RHR 64. The higher the Sp02 reading the better.  It is common at altitude to see Sp02 readings that would signal respiratory failure at sea level (less than 90). So we should be careful to not draw conclusions from any one reading, but rather compare readings for indications of progress. 
In general, a low RHR is desirable. 

Quick Posts
I have set up my cell phone so I can text entries directly into this blog. Though it can be hit and miss, I am told cell phones now work on many parts of the mountain. In one climber journal I read, he made the first cell phone call from the summit of Everest! I would like to make short entries this way, perhaps reporting my arrival at key destinations. 

Time Zone
I will note each entry with the date and local time. Nepal is 13 hours 40 minutes ahead of Pacific Standard Time (where most of my Readers live). 
I have looked for the reasoning behind this strange 40 minute offset, but can only identify the theory that Nepal wished to be different from India, which has a 30 minute offset.  New Delhi, India is halfway between two meridians, and so made the equananimous choice to split the difference instead of adopting the time of either. Such decisions are typically made by the Politicians in a given country. Hugo Chavez, then president of Venezuela, famously moved his country's time zone by 30 minutes in 2003, throwing computer systems into disarray. His rationale for doing so was to allow school children to sleep longer. "These children have to get up at 5 in the morning  ...they arrive at school dead tired," he said. One can never start too soon when it comes to winning votes. 

Reader Comments
I encourage Readers to leave comments at the end of blog entries   ...especially if they say nice things about me. Here is how; 
1. At the bottom of each blog entry you will see "No Comments" or "2 Comments" in light print. Click on that. 
2. A comment box will appear for you to leave your message in. 
3. "Comment as" is below with a drop down menu. If you do not have a Google profile, just select "Anonymous".
4. Click "Publish". 
I will read and respond to these.

Anonymity 
Aside from myself, my Sherpa, and my climbing partner Ty I will not be using anyone's real name for the entries during the climb.  Except in instances where it is highly relevant to the story, I probably will not even comment on what is happening with others and their climb. Climbers come to Everest for a once in a lifetime experience, and should not have to worry about what someone may write about them. So this will primarily be a story about my own experience, such as it may be. 

Guest Blogger Phil Drowley

Dear Readers, 
My next guest Blogger is Phil Drowley, with whom I climbed Vinson Massif in Antarctica. By that time Phil had already taken two runs at Everest, summiting on the second try. I asked him to share his thoughts on the trek into Everest Base Camp, the days that follow and any coaching he might offer me. I asked Phil to be my Coach for Everest many months ago when I decided to take the climb on. He is a Constable on the Isle of Mann, a world-class climber, and a good friend. 
-Dave

Your question takes me back to a place that I don't often frequent; the trek in.

It is interesting for me to compare my two trips.

In 2006 all I did was waste my energy worrying, would I make the summit, what was climbing in the ice fall like, would I be able to deal with the cold, what kit to wear tomorrow, how's my stomach, how's my head, how's my feet, how many people have died, and on and on.

I sincerely don't think this will happen to you, a man who observes life and lives the moment, me; I found I was racing into the future, in the end when that future arrived, because I had not concentrated on the here and now, I was not ready.

If I had ensured I had not got sick, ensured I was physically at my peak when I needed to be then I would have made it.

2008 was so much better, I was relaxed, though I have to say it was a relaxed that comes from the experience of knowing what each day brought. Because I was relaxed I did not use up nervous energy, I was able to take in the journey the sights, sounds, smells, the stuff you so well illustrate in your blogs, which is why I reiterate you won't have a problem. Take each day as it comes, look after each thing as it occurs, for example if you have a blister, chill, take time out, take your boot off, let your feet breath, apply a plaster, then start again, don't wreck your feet so that you can't hardly walk, clearly this will play with your mind and before you know it you will be having negative thoughts about the whole thing and nothing will be going right.

Whilst the blister is just an example, I met people on summit day with black ears because they couldn't be bothered sorting out their hood in the wind. Some effects of not living in the here and now will be with people for life, blisters come and go.

I truly believe this "relaxed as you can be" attitude got me to the top. It also stopped me questioning decisions taken by our leaders, where some others on the team had stand up rows.

Time spent in my tent, tidying my kit, was me time, time to reflect on how things were going and rationalizing things. I think I checked each day how fit I was feeling, what needs did my body have, more food, more water, more rest, I did what I wanted to do, not necessarily what the group was doing. For example, a hike to kalapatar to take photos of Everest, I wanted to rest so didn't go, it didn't mean I was not a team player, far from it, I enjoyed looking at all the photos on their return, but I knew what was right for me that day was to rest so that I was in the best place to take on the next day.

I may be rambling now.

I am typing this as I sit with Lorraine by the side of a pool in Dubai. My first time, my 'look I can be normal' holiday...........then carstenz this November.

You also ask about the ice fall.

Nothing can really prepare you. God it's cold first thing in the morning setting out and if you rush you never seem to catch your breath and settle into your breathing. Trying to keep up with the man in front. It's difficult the first few times, because you can't necessarily keep to what I say above; go at your pace, do what is right for you. Most teams like yours, I suspect, will put a time limit on reaching certain points which means you feel a little a pressure and can't chill out. That said I wonder now looking back was it the usual, are my crampons on ok, am I holding my ice axe right, am I about to trip over the rope, have I got a headache, I can't do this, bloody hell it's cold, this fella in front is going too fast. Should have gone with another company etc etc etc

Negative thoughts were never far away for me those first few times.........but you know what, what an amazing place, what a spectacle, what an achievement, what photo opportunities, what danger! 

Ladder crossing I don't believe you will ever quite get used to!

In a lot of ways it is the best bit of the climb.

First few times you wonder if you will make the top of it, eventually it is just part of that days trip, with a lunch stop at the top.

Sometimes your comical observations will come to the fore. I mean where else can you be following a rope and then find it disappears under a pile of ice and snow, where the path was now resembles a jumble of giant ice blocks which you have to clamber over to try and find the rope again. Or where you come to a ladder and it has fallen off the edge that it used to sit on and is hanging in the air just attached to the guide ropes, but like lemmings, if one person gets over it we all follow. You will be able to capture the irony and humour in all the situations.

Obviously the reality is it is dangerous, I have a picture of a block of ice the height of a tower block which in 2006 collapsed and not only could you no longer follow the rope as it fell onto the 'path' but also it fell onto four Sherpas whose bodies I believe have still not been recovered.

When we were there a poster hopefully asked climbers to look out for a climber put there by a family who had lost there loved one a few years earlier, hoping they would get there loved one back. There was a tin of meat found from a Swiss expedition in the sixties which washed out of the bottom of the ice fall where the water flows.

It is an amazing experience; you will enjoy the ride.

Love your blogs mate, I wish I had captured what I had seen and done so well, but I can recall and recapture my moments and thoughts through you as you write so well. I look forward to doing the same after your Everest experience.

All for now mate.

Keep training.

Phil

You do not talk about Fight Club.

In the 1999 movie, Fight Club, the protagonist (played by Edward Norton) is befriended by a charismatic bare-knuckles fist fighter (Brad Pitt). Through this association he is brought into the secretive world of gentlemen's brawling. I say gentlemen because they have rules. The first two are these: 1. You do not talk about Fight Club.  2. You do not talk about Fight Club. I found myself reflecting on this after a recent series of emails with a good friend. He has summited Everest and had this advice for me; "When you arrive at Kathmandu and at Basecamp don't talk too much about the days ahead. Just walk away from those conversations." In other words, You do not talk about Fight Club. 

This probably sounds strange to non-climbers. Is it even possible to not talk about the days ahead after waiting and dreaming of this climb for years? For some, no. As well, we will be surrounded by Trekkers, outnumbering climbers by 4 to 1. Won't they be eager to talk about the climb? Probably. But still, it is best to walk away. 

Those of us climbing Everest will be immersed in the process for many weeks. The mental fatigue of this can easily outstrip the physical wear. Climbers must be careful to not burn out on the topic. They must create a space for retreat from it. In a lifestyle that one climber described as "interminable boredom punctuated by moments of shear terror" it will be essential to find balance. 

You could also think of summiting Everest as being an enormous pay check. But there is something about discussing it that amounts to a draw against that payday. It feels great when people ask about what you are doing and say nice things.  But if you have already basked in the public glow of being an Everest Mountaineer there may not be enough pay left in that check to keep you going when things get tough. 

In the end of Fight Club we learn that Brad Pitt's character is really just the alter ego of Edward Norton's character, created through his own psychosis. His presence, influence and vitality remain concealed and safe ...as long as they do not talk about Fight Club. 

Mikey, Me, and Mountains

There was a time, in my senior year of High School, that I considered going to Clown College. This is an actual college run by Ringling Bros and Barnum & Bailey in Palmetto, Florida. It was not my idea, but rather that of my childhood friend Mike Unverzagt. "I've got 'em right here," he announced, waving the applications in the air as he jogged down the hall past the lockers. "Got what," I asked. He thrust a copy into my hands then stood back with that huge energetic smile I had known since the fourth grade. 

All around us classmates had chosen great universities in new and interesting places. They seemed to know where their lives were going.  Mike and I were going nowhere. Our grades were fine, but the money was not there. I had been considering a local community college. Mike thought he might go to Bible School. Neither one of us were excited by these prospects. 

"OK," I said, and stuffed the application into my book bag. It was a funny moment, something we did to entertain ourselves. The notion that we could set a life's course with such casual aplomb was our answer to the rank and file execution of peers who had known for years they would go to UCLA because their parents had gone there. Though we never talked seriously about Clown College, it was nice to have the notion out there, a plan B that spoke more to who we were than what we might become. 

Many years later I started performing Improv Theatre, groomed by Improv great Ryan Stiles (Who's Line Is It Anyway? The Drew Carey Show. Two and a Half Men).

 Mike went on to become a Pastor with the Assemblies Of God church. 

It would be disrespectful to suggest that in the end we had both become Clowns. Mikey's work is serious and important. He has founded several churches, had an immense impact on people's lives. But he does so with a level of humor and creativity that is in short supply in the halls of organized religion. He is God's clown. 

I am leaving on a short road trip tomorrow, looping down to see my son, Chase, in Eugene, OR. On the way back I will stay with Mike and his family in Vancouver, WA.  I am looking forward to hearing him preach on Saturday night. Mike called the other night to ask if I would help deliver his message. He has been speaking on the topic of "Moving Mountains", but now wants to advance that dialogue to "When you can't move a mountain, conquer it." Mike asked me to think of some examples I could share from my mountain climbing where I had literally done just that; conquered a mountain. I have been struggling with this ever since, largely because I do not believe anyone conquers a mountain. Mountains allow us to climb them.  To think anything else would be to approach them with arrogance in one's heart, and I have seen how harshly the mountains deal with arrogance.  Yet I do see a remedy in the figurative sense of Mike's request. This is what I plan to say;

The mountains I have conquered have always been in my head. They are the heaped up mounds of Doubt, Pain, Fear and Fatigue.  Together they reach skyward, dwarfing Everest and every lesser hill on earth.  It is only separately that they may be conquered. This is the first step. Separate each and know them for what they are. 

Doubt: At one point on Denali I remember thinking "If I'm struggling this much on the approach, how will I ever make it up the headwall?!"   But I was not yet at the headwall. My problem was the approach. There would be plenty of time to struggle on the headwall when I came to it. So I put that doubt in a box and filed it away. Instead I focused on the approach. If that was too much, I focused on reaching a rock I could see further up the trail. If that was too much, I gave myself a goal of ten more steps. I found that Doubt could be conquered this way through a combination of deferral and parsing. 

Pain: I encountered cold like I had never known in Antarctica. It was often 30 to 40 degrees below zero (Fahrenheit).  My toes had been numb for days, when they started to ache deeply. They were freezing.  

The first thing I do with pain is listen to the message it is sending, and do whatever can be done to address it. In this instance I broke out some chemical hand warmers and climbed inside my down sleeping bag. The warmer my body became, the more feeling returned to my toes. I held the hand warmers against them and thought about a recent hike in the Sonoran desert.  It is tempting to give up when we feel pain. Our tools of self-preservation lobby convincingly to do so. Yet few worthwhile accomplishments occur without some measure of pain. So once I have done all I can do, I accept the pain and bring it along like a cranky companion. 

Fear: There was a cluster of ropes that spanned the 1,000 foot drop below. I would have to hang from those ropes by my harness and pull hand-over-hand to the other side if I were to complete the last few steps to the 16,000 foot summit of Carstensz Pyramid in New Guinea.  I am afraid of heights. Luckily I am not afraid of ropes.  So it goes with fear. We have a choice about where to place our focus.  If I concentrated on the ropes and pulling myself across I might just as well be five feet off the ground instead of a thousand. 

Fatigue: Vince Lombardi famously said "Fatigue makes cowards of us all." This much is true and fatigue has surely been a part of each of my climbs. Rest is the obvious antidote; sleep, sitting down for a short break, even just a pause to take a sip of water. But still there are times this is not enough. In such cases I ask myself this question; "Is this the day? Is this the day the dream dies?" Then I listen for the answer.  Unless the answer is "Yes", I get up and start moving. 

Sleep.

I was kissing Whoopi Goldberg. Not just a peck, either. We were mashing. A Swiss locksmith could not have parted us. And though I am not attracted to her in my waking hours, there was clearly something about Whoopi that stirred my subconscious to proclaim "I got to get me more of that!" 

It seemed relevant to share this dream with the rest of my Denali team as we discussed, over oat meal, the weirdness of altitude and how it had started to affect our sleep. They just starred at me with looks of deep concern. "I kinda wish you hadn't mentioned that," John "Johnnie Two Times" Harris commented. I decided not to mention my Phyllis Diller dream. Some of us could not sleep. Other's suffered broken sleep. We would have to adjust. It was part of living at altitude. 

Sleep is essential in the physical and mentally demanding process of altitude climbing. I have known remarkably strong climbers to abandoned their quest after going several days unable to sleep. The human body goes through complicated changes as it adjusts to increasingly thinner air and sometimes it simply cannot manage the process efficiently. More often, we have rushed the process by ascending too quickly. 

Sleep can also be troubled by factors unrelated to the altitude; anxiety, diet, hydration, or medications. For instance, many climbs require an approach through areas known for malaria. Some of the drugs taken to protect against this are also known to promote psychotropic dreams. On Kilimanjaro, my Brother in-law Ty woke from a horrible dream believing he was lying in a pool of blood with a knife in one hand. It so disturbed him that he discontinued the medication, preferring to take his chances with Malaria. 

Far and away, the most prevalent sleep disorder associated with altitude is Chain Stokes Breathing. I did a climbing presentation recently at the local REI. Afterward I was approached by a man who had many questions about Chain Stokes breathing; whether I have ever suffered from it, how it may be dealt with effectively. His interest seemed more than academic, and I sensed his future in altitude climbing was in question. 

I have experienced Chain Stokes breathing. It is quite common among altitude climbers. In short, you stop breathing for a period of 5 to 15 seconds while sleeping. Suddenly the alarms go off in your system and you wake gasping like a goldfish on a tabletop. This is further complicated by stifling claustrophobia as one is typically zipped up to his nose hairs in a thick mummy sack. The ensuing panic generates enough movement and profanity to wake one's tent mate, who in all fairness probably has it coming for waking you with his own bout of Chain Stokes twenty minutes prior. This may go on all night.   ...and YOU took an unpaid leave of absence from work for this.

There are two mechanisms that regulate a person's breathing; The amount of carbon dioxide in the blood, and the level of oxygen in the blood. Think of them as bookends. When all is functioning properly you are at the far left with carbon dioxide levels determining your breathing cadence. It is the increased level of carbon dioxide in the blood during exertion that signals us to breath harder. But persistent increased breathing results in reduced carbon dioxide as we  "blow off" levels consistent with normal respiratory functioning. This is not a problem in waking hours, when conscious breathing takes the helm. But at night we rely on the carbon dioxide level to keep us right. 

The process breaks down at night as we breath hard to compensate for the thin air. This is turn starts to diminish the carbon dioxide level in our blood, signaling a diminished need to breath. Our bookends analogy would now see us moving away from the carbon dioxide end at an ever increasing rate as less breathing begets less carbon dioxide which in turn begets still less breathing. Finally a person's carbon dioxide level falls so low that breathing stops completely. One would think the other bookend, oxygen level in the blood, would gradually take over. It does not. Oxygen Level is on a union-sanctioned coffee break and has no intention of returning to work early. Five, ten, fifteen seconds pass before critically low oxygen levels in the blood trigger this far right bookend, resulting in desperate gasping which typically persists to the point of over-shooting in the opposite direction (too much oxygen in the blood), Oxygen Level goes back on break, and the cycle begins again. 

Acetazolamide, also known as Diamox, is often used to combat Chain Stokes breathing. The excellent site BasecampMD.com http://www.basecampmd.com/expguide/diamox.shtml says This drug works by forcing the kidneys to excrete bicarbonate, the base form of carbon dioxide; this re-acidifies the blood, balancing the effects of the hyperventilation that occurs at altitude in an attempt to get oxygen. This re-acidification acts as a respiratory stimulant, particularly at night, reducing or eliminating the periodic breathing pattern common at altitude. Its net effect is to accelerate acclimatization.

I have never taken Diamox, preferring to deal with acclimatization through a balanced approach consisting of equal parts gradual ascent and self pity. But on Everest I will. It is simply too long a climb to suffer through poor rest, and too tall a climb to not stack the deck for solid acclimation. Color me Lance. 

What a 3rd Grader wants to know.

Dear Blog Readers -
I recently knew the pleasure of speaking before the gathered kiddom of a local elementary school. I showed select photos from my various climbs while clad in full climbing battle gear; down suit, boots, lobster gloves, goggles, respirator, harness and ice axe.  It was fun. Afterward I received a list of questions from one third grade class at the school. I thought it might be fun to share those questions and my responses with you. 

• What does it feel like on top of the mountain, and what do the other mountains look like? (Matt)
• It feels very special. You know you are having a moment that will always be with you, always stand out for the rest of your life. But you also feel very very tired. That makes it hard to feel excited. I usually get that feeling the next day after I have rested, and it stays with me for weeks!
• Each mountain looks different. Some are snowy. Some are rocky. But when you stand on top it isn't so much the mountain you look at as it is everything below it, far and away. 
• When did you climb your first mountain, and which one was it? Temperature? How do you take rests? (Gary)
• I climbed my first mountain in 1992. It was Mt Baker. I was 29 years old. The temperature was about 28 degrees when we started climbing at night, but it warmed up to 68 degrees in the afternoon. The reflection of the sun on the snow can make it pretty hot at times. 
• I take rests by sitting down in a safe place and removing my pack. I sit on my pack so I don't lose body heat by sitting on the snow. I try to drink as much liquid as I can and eat something that will provide my body with energy. My favorite things to eat on climbing rests are Trail Mix, and Baker's Breakfast Cookies. 
• Is it scary when you are on top in the air? Can you breath when you are that high? Have you ever fallen or failed? (Julien)
• Yes, sometimes it is scary on top. The tops of some mountains are so small there is barely enough room for one person. If the wind is blowing hard I usually sit instead of standing. It's much safer. 
• I can breathe when I am up high, but it is a lot of work. If I bend over to tie my boot lace I will have to breathe hard five or six times to recover afterward. I have spent a lot of time developing the ability to function on very little oxygen.  Most of the mountains I have climbed have half the oxygen at their peaks as we breathe here at sea level. Try breathing through a straw with you nose pinched shut and you will have an idea how that feels. 
• Yes, I have fallen. In Alaska I fell into a crevasse (that's a big open crack in the glacier) while coming down Mt McKinley. I was connected to my Team Members by a safety rope that caught me, so was not hurt. But I was pretty scared. 
• Yes, I have failed. Twice I have tried to climb Mt Rainier and had to turn back because of bad weather. I'll keep trying and one day I will stand on top. 
• How does it feel when you’re up the mountain, and back down? Smell and see? Do you use courage? (Jalyssa)
• These are great questions, Jalyssa! The funny thing about high altitude mountain climbing is that your senses shut down as you climb higher. Climbers lose their sense of taste. The cold frozen air has no smell.  Except for the wind, there is no sound. Except for the sky, there is no color. And cold hands have almost no sense of touch. So you can imagine how fantastic it feels when all of these things come rushing back when I am down!
• Courage? Nelson Mandela once said “I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear.” 
• Do you feel light or weightless when you are top of the mountain? Which mountain was the most special? Is it windy or sever sunny? Have you climbed in the night or at sunset? (Alyssa)
• Actually it is the opposite. I feel very heavy. My legs are tired and I wish I had quit eating ice cream before going on the climb ; )
• The most special mountain for me was Vinson Massif, in Antarctica. Only about 300 people have ever stood on top of it. We trekked through areas where no man has probably ever been. It felt like we were exploring the moon. 
• Quite often it is windy. That can be a problem, so we usually stay put inside our tents on those days. It is also often sunny. We like those days best, but the sun can be quite strong up high on the mountain so we have to be very careful to protect our skin.. 
• Four of my six summits were climbed at night. This is because the colder temperatures at night freeze everything solid and make a more stabile, reliable surface for climbing on.  I have not climbed at sunset, but on Everest I will do so. We will leave high camp for the summit at 9pm and climb all through the night. 
• How long would it take you to climb Mt. Rushmore? (Jacob)
• I don't know. I've never looked into it. But I would guess about 1 day.. 
• What other mountains have you climbed and how many more would you like to do? What made you want to start climbing mountains? What do you do when you get to the top? (Lilly)
• The only mountains I have climbed aside from the ones I showed in my presentation are Mt Baker and Mt Rainier. I don't know how many more I will climb. I do want to climb some of the European peaks like the Matterhorn and Monte Blanc. 
• As you move through life, Lilly, you will discover you have been given many gifts. You might find you are a fast runner, or you have a wonderful singing voice, or you are really good at math. As I discovered my gifts I realized that many of them are on the list of traits that make a good Altitude Mountain Climber.  I tried it and had some success. We all like to do those things we are good at, so I just kept climbing. 
• When I get to the top I usually cry. I know that sounds strange, but it is a very emotional experience. I think about the people I love and how much they have supported and encouraged me. I think about how hard I have worked and all the times I have dreamed of that moment. I am very happy. 
• What’s the biggest mountain you have left to climb? Which one was the hardest? Do you leave your own mark on the top of the mountain? What is our goal? Do you ever climb by yourself? (Korin)
• The biggest mountain I have left to climb is Mt Everest. I leave March 29^th of this year to attempt this mountain. 
• The hardest mountain was Mt McKinley in Alaska. Whewwwww!
• I do not leave any mark on the mountain. In fact I try really hard to leave the mountain looking like I was never there. Mountains are beautiful in their natural state and I want the next person who comes along to be able to enjoy that beauty as much as I did. 
• My goal is always to come home safe and sound. That's the most important part. After that it is my goal to make it to the summit of the mountain. Sometimes I don't make it to the top. I still come away with a terrific experience, and I can always try again. 
• I do not climb by myself. Mountain climbing is always much safer when there is at least one other person climbing with you. Safety is very important. 
• Are there any animals when you climb up? Most warm or tropical? How do you climb up from the edge?  Do you ever feel like giving up, what do you do? (Kate)
• Sometimes there are animals down low on the mountain. It's always fun to see them! But very few creatures live way up high where we climb to. Ravens hang around our camps, but that is about it. 
• I have climbed mountains in a few warm/tropical places like Africa and New Guinea. But even there it is very cold when I get high up on the mountain. 
• I climb up from the edge by using the long spikes strapped to the bottom of my feet and by digging in my ice axe. 
• I do feel like giving up sometimes. We don't talk about it much, but EVERYONE feels like giving up at times when they try to do something really hard. That's natural. I take a rest when I feel this way and first ask myself if there are any safety reasons for quitting. If not, then I ask myself "Is this it? Is this the day you give up the dream?" Then I listen for the answer. 
• Do animals live at the top of these mountains? (Alena)
• No. Animals are too smart to try living on top of these mountains. It is a very harsh place. 
• What’s the weather like when you are at the top of the mountain? DO you get tired on tall mountains? (Keily)
• The weather varies. I've had it be very windy, or snowing. I've had the weather become very foggy as the clouds moved in around us. 
• I do get tired. Climbing mountains is hard. 
• How far can you see when you are on top of the mountain? Do you ever get scared? (Noah)
• Good question! We know the human eye can see a long long ways. Just think about the moon. But the earth is curved and because of that the surface drops out of sight after a certain amount of distance. If the weather is clear I can usually see about 200 miles from the peak of the mountain. 
• What’s your favorite mountain that you have climbed? (Kalla)
• Vinson Massif in Antarctica. See my answer about this to Alyssa. 
• Have you ever climbed Mt. Baker? (Tyler)
• Yes. My two sons and I climbed it on Father's Day four years ago. It was fun!
• How many mountains have you climbed? (Kamryn)
• All together, I have climbed eight mountains  …which isn't a lot, but they were all really big!
• How long did it take to climb each mountain? Have you ever gone sky-diving? Do you have enough courage to climb a volcano? (Jaden)
• Mt McKinley took 3 weeks to climb. Kilimanjaro in Africa took 8 days. Elbrus in Russia took 5 days. Aconcagua in Argentina took 2 weeks. Vinson Massif in Antarctica took 2 weeks. Carstensz Pyramid in New Guinea took 11 days.  Everest will take 2 months. 
• Yes, I have gone sky-diving. It was pretty exciting but I don't want to do it again ; )
• Actually, Mt Baker, Rainier, and Kilimanjaro are all volcanoes and I have climbed them.  
• How often do you climb? (Jorge)
• I climb small mountains and hills every weekend as part of my training. But I only climb one major mountain a year. 
• What do you do when you get hungry? (Moses)
• I eat whatever I have handy. Climbers bring a lot of healthy energy foods with them to the mountains. I always have some trail mix or dehydrated fruit in my pockets. My favorite is dried coconut chips!
• Our meals are usually freeze-dried food like mashed potatoes or pasta. We boil water and add it to make the meal. I usually bring along little packets of cheddar cheese to add into this, but they freeze so I have to hold them under my arms first to thaw them out. It feels pretty silly. 

Two Questions.

There are two questions I am frequently asked when the topic of the upcoming Everest climb arises. The first is "What are you doing for training?" The second is "What will you do after climbing Everest?"

In a very real sense I have spent the last six years training for Everest. In the course of my other major climbs I have worked hard to improve my fitness, skills and knowledge of mountaineering. This is a given. So I believe the question is really asking "What are you doing for training that is different for Everest?" 

I had a stress EKG performed. My Physician thought this was a waste of time/money and I rather suspected he was correct. "You would know by now if something was wrong," he commented, alluding to my prior climbs. But close family members are understandably concerned about this climb and I thought this might offer them some comfort. After all, I turned 50 last year and heart disease runs on both sides of my family. The attending Physician said  they needed to get my heart rate up to 170 beats per minute. I cruised along on his treadmill, electrode wires flapping away, but my heart rate barely budged. We got there eventually though, with me running full out on a 25 degree incline. 
Everything checked out fine. 

I also had a full workup done on my blood. This revealed an unacceptable colesterol level. The nurse called to report this finding me. "We recommend you go on a statin and begin a regular exercise routine," she counseled. I reminded her that I am already training to climb Mt Everest and asked if she thought I could actually get more exercise than that. She agreed, explaining this was the standard recommendation. In the end I passed on the Statin, feeling it makes more sense to listen to the message my body is sending me and make some dietary changes. Subsequent tests have shown solid progress. 

I hired a Trainer to completely redesign my workouts. Mike Locke at the Bellingham Athletic Club has, for many years, prepared Olympians, Professional Athletes, College and everyday folk for performing at high levels. He designed the workouts I used to prepare for Denali six years ago, putting me in the best condition of my life. We met at his office and discussed in detail the various physical requirements for the Everest climb; a great big stamina gas tank, solid core strength, mental strength, but only moderate load packing muscle groups. It would be just as important to not build muscle that was not necessary for the climb. Such muscle would constitute additional weight and demands for oxygenation. Mike borrowed from the training used by First Responders and Navy Seals. The result is a series of three distinctly different workouts that rotate Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Each relies on timed intervals with very limited recovery time between sets. Every time I start to feel capable of getting through a workout we increase the repetitions, the weights, or both. "I want you to spend enough time at that pushed-to-the-limit level that you will feel familiar and confident when it happens on the climb. That's a big part of the mental toughness," Mike explains, standing over me in a pool of sweat. 

Each of Mike's workouts is finished with 30 minutes of cardio work. Some days I do 500 meter sprints on the rowing machine. Other days I put on a twenty pound lead-lined vest and grind out time on the inclined treadmill. When I start to feel run down I think about Everest. Always Everest. It inspires me, haunts me, taps its watch patiently. 

Tuesdays are pure cardio. Again I put on the lead vest and aim for 160 beats per minute for an hour and twenty on the inclined treadmill or step mill. Thursdays are a rest day. Sweet sweet Thursdays! On Saturdays Lin and I hike the Pine and Cedar Lakes Trail near our home. This is a 1,800 feet elevation gain in 50 minutes. I wear a pair of climbing boots I am breaking in, and a pack with 40 pounds of water in it. It feels great to be outdoors, even when the cold rain is pouring down on us. I like to eat sunflower seeds on the way down. We talk about time. 

Most Sundays Lin and I do a six mile walk that runs the shoreline of Bellingham Bay and up Taylor street, then back. A central component of this workout is the hot coffee drink we treat ourselves to at Woods Coffee. Fitness first!  In a few weeks I will add morning workouts as I look to peak my training by mid March, then start to taper down through the last few weeks before leaving. 

"What will you do after climbing Everest?" Such a nice problem to have! The thing I like best about this question is that it assumes I will summit Everest. The thing I like least about this question is that it assumes I will summit Everest. The simple fact is that I cannot see past Everest to even consider what will follow and to whatever extent I do so I risk taking my eye off the ball.  

Last summer Lin and I went to a gathering of the Teachers she works with. At some point we all became distracted watching the host's dog chase his tail on the lawn next to us. He was very fast, but his tail was always that much faster. "I hope he never catches it," I commented, "life would be so disappointing after that." "So how about it, Dave," one of the teachers asked "what about after you summit Everest?" It was a poignant moment that caught me by surprise. "I'll probably chase my tail," I answered. 

Self-doubt

Dear Blog Readers- I am pleased and honored to introduce Carol Masheter as the second of my guest Bloggers. Readers of my Carstensz Pyramid Blog will recall Carol as being a member of that expedition and, in the course of summiting Carstensz Pyramid, becoming the oldest woman in history to stand atop the Seven Summits. 
 I asked Carol to write on the topic of self-doubt. Though she has enjoyed vast success as a Mountaineer, Carol has also known low moments and is willing to share candidly about them. She is an inspiration, a kind soul, and a member of The Ozone Brotherhood. 

Dave Mauro, my friend and fellow climber on Carstensz Pyramid in July, 2012, has asked me to share some thoughts about self-doubt. I am well qualified. In my professional life, I have struggled with writer's block and fear of public speaking. I also am afraid of heights. These are all forms of self-doubt. Sixteen years ago, I lost a job that I loved, my relationship with a man I loved ended badly, and my mother died suddenly, all with 18 months. I was devastated. To heal from loss, grief, and anger, I ran away to the Bolivian Andes to learn high altitude mountaineering at age 50. The last thing I expected was to retire at age 65 from a new career I enjoyed to become a full time mountaineer, author, and motivational speaker. 

I am a small, not very impressive looking woman, now 66 years of age. I work out regularly, usually win my age/gender division in half marathons, and often can keep pace with people half my age in the mountains. However, with each passing year I run a little slower and lose some agility and lung function. Before each major climb, I worry that I am not skilled enough, strong enough, or fast enough; that my fear of heights will overwhelm me, I will fall and splat like a bug. That said, I believe self-doubt among mountaineers is common, even among the best, though few speak or write about it. Yet self-doubt, if managed properly, can be a powerful tool. 

Self-doubt drove me to prepare thoroughly before my Everest climb in 2008. I had hired a recommended professional trainer who had trained other Everest climbers and got in the best shape of my life. I had practiced walking on a ladder propped on cinder blocks in my backyard. I had climbed with a professional guide in the icefall on Mt. Baker in Washington. However, in the Khumbu Icefall above Everest Base Camp, each ladder bridge, especially a long, bouncy one, triggered my fear of heights big time. When I looked down to see where to place my feet, the crevasse drew my gaze into its seemingly bottomless depths, my breathing degenerated into frightened little gasps, my head swam, and my gut twisted. 

To avoid being reduced to a quivering blob of jelly, I used several strategies. I commanded myself out loud, "Breathe in deeply, breathe out slowly." Sometimes this simple technique was enough to steady my breathing and reduce my fear to a manageable level. If that didn't work, I murmured s soothing Buddhist prayer, "Om mahnee pahdmee hoom," with each exhale. I resisted the morbid temptation to look into the crevasse. I forced myself to focus only on the ladder rungs, where I was about to place each foot, and not let my gaze slide down into those terrifying depths. If that didn't work, I firmly reminded myself aloud, "You have trained for this, you know what to do. Stop agonizing and just do it." When my careful pre-trip preparation was not enough, these tricks helped me manage my self-doubt and make about 400 ladder-bridge crossings in multiple trips through the Khumbu Icefall. 

During our acclimatization cycles above Base Camp, self-doubt rose and fell like the tides. When I climbed well and did not lag behind the others, my confidence soared. "I'm gonna summit for sure, piece of cake," I would crow inwardly. During a slow, labored climb, I would despair, "I'm too old and slow, I was a fool to think I could climb Everest at age 61." As the time for our summit attempt neared, I was sure the guides would say, "Nice effort, but you are a bad risk for going to the summit." Instead, the guides said, "You have trained hard with a recommended trainer before the expedition. You have done more acclimatization walks than the other expedition members. Your resting heart rate, blood oxygen saturation, and blood pressure are comparable to those of the others and the climbing Sherpas. Do you want to try for the summit?" Of course, I wanted to try for the summit! The guides' experience with previous climbers enabled them to give an impartial evaluation of my abilities. The guides settled the question of whether I was strong enough but simply lacked confidence or I was an over-confident, unrealistic fool. 

Being encouraged to go for the summit provided only temporary relief from self-doubt. For me, it is a sneaky demon that disappears for a while, only to resurface at another, less convenient time. During summit day I experienced my worst moments of self-doubt. Early in our ascent, on a particularly steep pitch below the Balcony I felt as though I were struggling against Jovian gravity. My bulky down parka and pants, my heavy, three-layer mountaineering boots, and supplemental oxygen mask felt as cumbersome as a space suit. Each cycle of movements took every ounce of will I had: look for a foot hold, bend my knee and lift my foot up onto the hold, test it, shift my weight onto it, straiten my knee and hoist my body up, slide my ascender up the fixed line, repeat this cycle again and again and again. At the top of this steep pitch, a narrow shelf of rock and ice, I paused on my hands and knees. My breath came in sharp, ragged gasps, as I fought to get enough air. 

My inner critic hissed poisonously, "If you are having this much trouble now, before we have even reached the Balcony you should turn back now. If you collapse and cannot climb on your own, you will put your Sherpa climbing partners, Nima and Tendi, in added danger. You vowed before this climb not to endanger anyone else unnecessarily, even if turning back broke your heart." Slowly, I stood up and tried to steady my ragged breathing. Tendi asked, "Carol Didi (older sister), you OK?" I was too out of breath to answer. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to mine, a gentle Sherpa gesture of affection and respect. We stood that way for what seemed like a very long time, but it was probably only for a few seconds. My jangled nerves and uneven breathing steadied. Tendi and I parted. "I'm OK, Tendi Bai (younger brother). Let's go," I heard myself say. The firmness and resolve in my voice surprised me. It was as though a stronger, more confident me were speaking, not the self-doubting me that considered turning back moments before. My best explanation of what happened is that Tendi's kind gesture gave me a moment to regroup physically and mentally to push down the demon of self-doubt, and let my inner strength take over. What followed was a difficult, yet intensely rewarding climb and magical summit experience. I will remember the joy I experienced while sitting on top of the world until the end of my days. 

Mountaineering has been more than a series of fine adventures. It has helped me learn to manage fear of heights, fear of public speaking, and writer's bock. At 66 years of age I now have a new identity and purpose. I have learned to use self-doubt to prepare for the worst, hope for the best, and expect the unexpected. If sharing lessons learned from mountaineering through writing and speaking inspires even a few people to learn to harness self-doubt, meet life's challenges, and experience the joy of overcoming them, I am happy. 
-Carol Masheter

Carol recounts her Everest climb and harrowing descent in "No Magic Helicopter, An Aging Amazon's Climb of Everest,"
(please see www.carolmasheter.com for more information). I enjoyed reading her book and encourage others to check it out. In between her many speaking engagements, Carol is working on another book about climbing the Seven Summits. 
-Dave Mauro

What is a Sherpa?

We should begin by understanding that "Sherpa" is not a job description. It is a people. About 153,000 Sherpa live in Nepal today. Their ancestors came to this region by way of Tibet and, prior to that, regions still further east. It is believed they followed well established salt trading routes.The term Sherpa translates in Tibetan as "Shar" eastern, "pa" people. Originally a nomadic people, the Sherpa transitioned to agriculture and livestock farming after arriving in Nepal in the 1500's. 

Most of us would never have heard of the Sherpa people were it not for their invaluable contribution to climbing endeavors in the Himalayas. Sherpa men were hired by early expeditions as Guides. Their keen knowledge of the complex valleys and peaks of the Himalayas proved essential to the first Climbers, Explorers and Cartographers to venture into the region. Soon the Sherpa were likewise recognized for their extraordinary ability to function at high altitudes and expeditions began hiring them in great numbers to carry supplies. This practice continues today as Everest expeditions benefit greatly from the remarkable load-packing ability of the Sherpa. International Mountain Guides, the company I am climbing with, will hire something on the order of 60 Sherpas this season.

Myself, Richard, Ang, and Brian
I climbed Kilimanjaro in January of 2008 with Adventure Consultants of New Zealand. We were led by one of their Everest Guides, a Sherpa named Ang Dorjee. Aside from his incredible 16 summits of Everest, Ang is famous for being featured in the bestseller Into Thin Air. He is one of the Hero's who survived, and helped others survive, the tragic events of May 10, 1996 when 8 climbers perished. This link will take you to a short You Tube video of Ang preparing us before our summit bid of Kilimanjaro Click here to see Ang  

As Richard, Brian and myself marched up the mountain in full battle gear, Ang calmly walked beside us, hands in pockets, wearing tennis shoes. He never seemed cold, or tired, or out of breath ...even at 19,000 feet. Ang's resting blood-oxygen level measured a robust 98 at high camp, while the rest of us logged numbers that could start a shoving match between funeral directors.  

Dr. Kenneth Kamler, in his excellent book Surviving The Extremes: A Doctors Journey to the Limits of Human Endurance, discusses the physiological adaptations of humans to high altitude. Sherpas are specifically addressed in one part of his book. Dr. Kamler identifies several fascinating differences between Sherpas and us mere mortals scrubbling around at sea level. 
1. Sherpa lungs have a high idling speed. Which is to say they have a high sensitivity to low oxygen environments and will maintain an increased rate of breathing, even at rest. Most climbers take a drug called Diamox to accomplish this. 
2. A Sherpa's heart muscle can take in glucose. Glucose burns 50% more efficiently than fat (the fuel used by a typical heart) in a low oxygen environment. The net result is the same cardiac output with much less work. 
3. Sherpa blood has something extra. The capacity of a Sherpa's blood to transport oxygen is greatly increased by special enzymes that ride along with the hemoglobin to speed up the capture and release of oxygen. 
4. Sherpas lungs produce more vasodilators. Sherpa lungs produce twice the nitric oxide as almost everyone else. Nitric oxide acts as a vasodilator, opening up constricted vessels in the lungs. This may be why Sherpas are virtually immune to pulmonary edema.
5. Sherpas produce less lactic acid. Sherpas working at maximum capacity produce less lactic acid than the rest of us, a condition known as the lactic acid paradox.  The probable explanation is that Sherpas don't need to form lactic acid because they can maintain high fuel-burning efficiency, even in low oxygen by using enzymes we still have not identified. 

All of this combines to make the Sherpa people, and thus the Sherpa climber, extraordinary human beings when it comes to functioning at high altitude. So much so that the term Sherpa has been borrowed for many other uses descriptive of these qualities. In photography, the person who carries the equipment is known as a "Sherpa". The Short SB.4 Sherpa aircraft was designed and built in 1950 to test capabilities for very high altitude flight. Again and again, when we seek superlatives to attach to things which carry outsized loads or operate in rarefied air the term Sherpa is used. 

Approximately 93% of Sherpa are Tibetan Buddhists. Their oral history suggests that their initial migration from Tibet to Nepal was a search for Shangri-La. Being Guru Rinpoche Buddhists, the Sherpa believe in hidden valleys and treasures. But other evidence supports the notion that religious conflicts with the Chinese prompted their westward movement. 

The most well known Sherpa is Tenzing Norgay. In 1953 he and Sir Edmund Hillary became the first people known to have reached the summit of Mt Everest. There have been female Sherpa climbers, though tragedy has haunted them. Pasang Lhamu Sherpa was the first Nepali female climber to reach the summit of Everest, however she died during the descent. The great female Sherpa Pemba Doma Sherpa summited Everest two times before she died in a fall from Lhotse on May 22, 2007.

Today there are about 5,000 Sherpa living in the United States. Half of these are in the peaceful hamlet of New York City. Go figure. The remainder are scattered among the states. My friend Ang Dorjee is one of them. He married a scientist he met while she was studying climate change at Everest base camp. Today they live with their two children in Richland, Washington. 

Please join my Everest Team!

Have you ever considered joining an Everest expedition? Probably not. Because Everest is a cold cold place and you are a sensible right-thinking person. But what if I told you it was possible to join an Everest Expedition and never leave the comfort of your own home?!  Hmmmmm?  

You would still say "No." Because Everest Expeditions are expensive, very very expensive. And your wise Financial Planner would no doubt counsel against such folly. But what if you could join an Everest Team for as little as $5, and every cent of that would go to benefit the Bellingham Boys & Girls Club?  

I suspect you might say "I'm getting a warm feeling." And friends, that warm feeling can only mean one of two things; you are liking this idea, or you are running a bit of a fever and should have gotten that flu shot. In either case, please consider joining my Everest Expedition by donating to my Climbing For Kids program to benefit the important services provided by the Bellingham Boys & Girls Club. 

Maybe you would like to make a Guide level donation, or a Sherpa, or even a Summit Team Member. 

There are many exotic titles to which you may attach your donation and name. We will thank you on the club website like this...

Special Thanks To Our Generous

“Climbing For Kids” Supporters:

 Dave Mauro, Summit Team Member sponsor

Hoagland Pharmacy, Climber Sponsor

The Upfront Theatre, Sherpa Sponsor

Denise Snyder, Sherpa Sponsor

Dee Hanrahan, Sherpa Sponsor

John Hanrahan, Sherpa Sponsor

Ruth Lang, Sherpa Sponsor

Tod Asmussen, Sherpa Sponsor

Susan Luzzi, Sherpa Sponsor

Ann Kaiser, Sherpa Sponsor

Rick Kaiser, Sherpa Sponsor

Kent Loomer, Sherpa Sponsor

Eric Caffi, Sherpa Sponsor

Brett Baunton, Guide Sponsor

Don Mauro, Guide Sponsor

Ivan Gomez, Guide Sponsor

Susan Moore, Guide Sponsor

Carol Masheter, Guide Sponsor

John Schapiro, Team Logistics Sponsor

Linda Lehn, Team Logistics Sponsor

Jack & Jan Stillwell, Team Logistics Sponsor

We will thank you on the walls of the gymnasium!

We will say nice things about you like "That Eric Caffi is a snappy dresser!"

And YOU will enjoy the warm feeling that comes from helping the terrific kids at the Bellingham Boys & Girls Club!

All it takes is a credit card and a couple clicks of your mouse, starting here: https://secureonlinegiving.com/Donations/site/index.asp?eventID=1036

Thank you, and WELCOME TO THE TEAM!!!