Climb for Hospice

Yesterday I had an adventure!

I took the ferry over to Victoria to visit with my brother Todd and his lovely girlfriend Becky. As regular readers of this blog will know, Todd and Becky just returned from 6 weeks of hiking through Tibet and Nepal, where they were able to take a 19-day trek to Everest Base Camp. So of course I thought that hiking up a small mountain on the island with the two of them would be a fantastic idea. Either I need to stop drinking so much, or I need to start drinking far more.

I packed a small bag, threw on my hiking boots, draped myself in all things Arcteryx and was promptly whisked off to the ferry terminal (thanks mom!). The really great thing about taking the ferry is the fact that for $13 you can take a (2-hour) cruise that doesn’t assault your sensibilities by forcing you to listen to steel drums for extended periods of time, or watch horrified as Mr. Creosote waddles up to the buffet line for his 4th helping of lard-covered fat sticks. However, I do not recommend taking this delightful mini-cruise if you have an allergy to patchouli, or if you have an allergy to being in ocean-going close confines with unruly children.

Aaaaaaaaaaaanyway…

Todd and Becky thought it would be fun to go for a hike with me while telling me all about their trip. I completely agreed, and was so very excited to see them both. Although they certainly had some incredible stories to relate, it was their little pearls of travel wisdom that most intrigued me. We talked food, water, altitude, how to tie your boots for ascent vs. descent, and the effective layering of clothing. I must say this, as mature as I am, and as open as I am to learning new things, hearing about the number of times my older brother changed his underwear while trekking in Tibet was really not high on my list of ideal conversation topics*. And do NOT get me started on the Bowel-Movement Rating System…

The hike up Mt. Finlayson is really quite beautiful. Todd and Becky set a decent pace, and I didn’t feel as though I were struggling too much. At one point I started to get frustrated that I wasn’t keeping up with them very well, but I had to remind myself that the two of them had just spent a good deal of time hanging out where pro mountaineers go to challenge themselves. I had to give my ego a bit of a slap, and it helped.

So, after an hour or so of some scrambly, craggy, trail jaunting, we reached the summit of Mt. Finlayson. We were very proud.

Of course, as I was rasping for breath, wondering how internal organs could be on fire, Todd and Becky seemed somewhat less effected…

I like to call this photo, “Meh.”  I mean really, these two just hung out with lamas in Tibet last week. Climbing the mighty Mt. Finny at a whopping 1375 ft (a mere 17,965 ft shorter than Kili), I could understand that they may have been just slightly underwhelmed.

Regardless, the were both incredibly gracious hosts, sharing their stories, imparting their wisdom, giving me potato chips carrots and celery on the drive up, and treating me to  beer and nachos a healthy dinner before taking me to the ferry terminal.

It was a good hike, and a great day in fantastic company. Both Todd and Becky gave me a lot to think about, and I had my eyes opened again to the fact that I need to get out there and get active, right now. I am so not ready to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro, and as I wheezed and burned up a hill whose height is 14 times less than that of Kili, that certainly became perfectly clear.

On the upside, I was certainly well educated on the most important items to bring on my climb that will ensure a mentally successful trip: wet wipes, Snickers bars, and apparently a lot less underwear than I thought was necessary.

*note to self: buy Todd some new underwear for Christmas. Also, buy Becky Hazmat gloves for laundry day*

I’ve always been one to enjoy a good quote. I love how a random phrase can so succinctly sum up a lifetime’s worth of feeling in a single sentence. I love that “EXACTLY!!” feeling that happens when I read something that just ‘clicks’.

And then there are mottos. Words to live by, words to love by, words that give you some sort of hope, and possibly a glimpse at what it could be like to guide your own destiny, should you simply choose to follow those words.

When I started working with people who have Dementia, my motto in life changed after my very first work day was done. It isn’t a poetic motto by any means, and in fact, it’s really rather grotesque in simplicity. But it works for me, and it’s already made a difference in how I choose to look to the future.

At work, I saw so many spouses devastated by the fact that a disease was denying them the right to grow old with the person they love.  As Dementia stole their partner moment by moment in an agonizingly slow progression, so it stole their own life, too.  Here was a person they had married 35, 45, 55 years ago, and had endured a lifetime of trials and joys with them. They had worked hard together, and looked forward to the time when they could both ‘start enjoying life’.

The words, “we were waiting until retirement to…” went from being just plain smart, to being painfully tragic.

I had husbands tell me that they had no idea what they were going to do with their lives, given that their wife was now incapable of recognizing them, let alone traveling through wine country with them. So many missed trips to Europe, so many cruises, golf vacations, RV adventures, and visits to the grandkids in Sacramento… there was no one to do these things with anymore.

All the best parts of life, the reward for all the hard work, had been put on hold until they had ‘the time to do it right‘.

And now, they can’t do it at all.

It was heart-breaking. Aside from grief and anger, the surviving spouse also was left with an oppressive sense of helplessness and disappointment. “What we could have done if only we had more time…” and worse, “we had so much planned…”

And so, my motto simply became “Do it. Do it now”.

Do it.

Do it now.

Because everything can become nothing in a single moment. Because looking back should not be all about what could have happened if you had stepped forward, instead of just looked forward.

So, do it. Do it now.

Whatever it is.

Because you deserve to remember that you did it, and not be broken by the fact that you didn’t.

As for me, I’m off to catch the ferry to Victoria, where I will spend the afternoon with my brother hearing all about his 6-week trek through Tibet and Nepal as we hike up Mt. Finlayson.

And I’ll be wearing the hiking boots that will take me to the summit of Tanzania’s Mt. Kilimanjaro.

I’m really glad that I’m writing a blog at this time in my life. It gives me the chance to express my strange brand of humour in a new, more mature way.

Because when I was a kid, I used to tear open tea bags and snort the contents up my nose just to make my brother Todd laugh.

I truly appreciate that I don’t have to resort to such lowbrow tactics anymore.

…Well, until I get Writer’s Block anyway.

*tears open teabag*

Showering and I are quite close friends, and I enjoy the relationship that I have with hot water, soap and whatever form of poufy soap-application instrument is at hand in said shower. Bathing and I are also in a fantastic relationship, and I can honestly say that I’ve been in love with bathing for many, many years. I’m not ashamed to admit that to you.

It’s difficult for me when I have days when I’m not spending time with showering and/or bathing. I have visceral reactions when the poufy soap-application instrument and I don’t spend an adequate amount of time together. Even if shampoo and I take a break from each other every so often, I know that poufy soap-application instrument will be there for me. Reliable pouf – I adore you so. You make me happy, and you make me feel fantastic when you help transform me from forest-rolled sasquatch into shiny, squeaky clean girl.

I also love dental floss, toilet paper, Q-Tips, deodorant, and nail clippers. We all live together under one roof, and we all get along really well. We never fight (although sometimes dental floss really pisses me off). The reciprocal relationship I have with hygiene supplies brings me so very much joy. I rescue it from the supermarket shelves, and it returns the favour by being totally awesome. I like our relationship. I plan to continue it for many years to come.

My name is Robyn, and I’m a proud hygiene polygamist.

I look out for hygiene – I’ve got its back. It’s my job to ensure that it is always safely out of harm’s way, and far from its mortal enemy: camping. I’ve been quite successful in this undertaking, and I feel that I’ve done my best to keep the soft, precious, important hygiene away from the evil ruinous mass that is camping.

But there have been times when I have failed. When I have strayed, and brought the wrath of camping upon the unsuspecting hygiene. It’s a gruesome fight.

I… I don’t want to talk about it. Although I will say one thing: crying just makes camping stronger – it laughingly feeds off the tears of the broken, shattered hygiene, as it lay writhing on the ground, desperate to be whole again.

F*cking camping.

Needless to say, I know I’ve got a fight on my hands soon. One where I know that hygiene will be completely obliterated, and camping will dance victorious on the grave of clean. Knowing this, I still must go. I am preparing myself to lose this battle, and it pains me. Oh, it wounds me deeply!

However, I know the genocidal campaign won’t last forever – there will be an end to this tragedy. But the seven days that it will take for this war to play itself out will be ugly. And those that come behind me will be able to watch the devastation, and follow the progress of this destruction, as one follows the path of a snail.

Oh Seven Days on Kili, how I fear thee!

But oh, 45-minute shower on Day Eight how I anticipate our alliance! It will be you that will take on the Herculean task of destroying the loathsome camping once and for all! And although I may be haunted by the memories, I know, Day Eight Shower, that my time with you will help heal those wounds.

*places hands over heart*

Day Eight Shower… You complete me.

It’s going to be a good day, indeed.

Good news comes in many forms. This morning I received some good news regarding someone that I have never met, who is doing something that I have absolutely zero interest in doing.

16 year old Abby Sunderland is attempting to be the youngest person to circumnavigate the globe in a sailboat. Solo. Yesterday she was lost at sea, and presumed dead. She had been in 30 ft swells and her boat had gone over a few times (meaning the sail hit the water). Her emergency beacons were set off, radio contact was lost, and Abby was gone.

Until today. Abby was spotted by a Quantas airbus flying overhead, and they made radio contact with her. They immediately informed her parents, and with them, we as a world breathed a collective sigh of relief. Abby is going to be alright, and should be safely aboard a rescue boat within the next 24 hours.

Abby’s trip set off a firestorm of ‘you-are-horrible-parents-how-could-you-let-her-do-that?!’ type debates. It was the “She’s a strong, independent girl wanting to prove herself” team vs. the “She’s a child! Be a parent and say NO!” team. And while strangers debated what Abby should and should not do, Abby got to packing her boat and preparing herself for her journey.

I don’t know what having a drive like that is like. I envy Abby and the fact that she even thought of doing this, let alone that she is attempting it. She is an accomplished sailor, knows the risks involved with such a trip, and understands that even being as prepared as she can be, the chances of something going horribly wrong are pretty high. She isn’t a stupid girl, and I don’t believe her parents are negligent. Honestly, she’s a teenager. She’s going to do what she damn well pleases anyway, so why not support her instead of fighting her? This is NOT something you want your teenager sneaking off in the middle of the night to do just to defy you. Stealing the car to visit a boyfriend is one thing, stealing the boat to sail it around the world is something else entirely.

I don’t know if her parents were right or wrong in “letting her go”, and a large part of me doesn’t even want to debate it. I am certain that her parents didn’t jump for joy the moment Abby suggested her idea to them, and I think that I can safely assume that they may have had one or two conversations on the matter. Ya think?

I’m climbing a mountain. No… let me rephrase that – I’m hiking up a big hill. I am doing this because I believe that I can accomplish this task, and stand at the summit of Mt. Kilimanjaro. However, I’m also realistic enough to know that I couldn’t climb Everest, or Aconcagua, Ebrus, Denali, Vinson Massif, or even Kosciuszko. …ok, maybe I could do Kosciuszko.

Anyway, when it comes to climbing Kili, I think I know the risks involved, but I believe that my lack of surety about those risks is the biggest risk there is. But I’m going to do it. If Abby Sunderland can try to circumnavigate the globe (solo!) Robyn Thomson can walk up a big hill.

Funny where we find inspiration sometimes. It’s a weird feeling to think that in a few weeks I’ll be standing on The Roof of Africa looking up to a 16 year old stranger on a wounded boat in the middle of the Indian Ocean.

Life is good.

I leave for Africa in 64 days.

I have 9 weekends left in which to hike and camp my soul away.

I have $4736.60 to raise, 2 prescriptions to buy (Malarone and something for Typhoid), 23 days worth of travel insurance to purchase, 1 Royal Bank Visa to activate, 1 Tanzanian Visa to apply for,  5 pairs of socks, 2 pairs of pants and 1 pair of sandals to buy.

I need clothing, footwear and toiletries for 6 beach days, 4 desert days, 2 rainforest days, 3 alpine days, 1 snow day, 3 safari days, and 2 air travel days.

My bag cannot weigh more than 33lbs.

I need more than a 16gig memory card.

I have to practice consuming 4 litres of water per day.

I need to find 13 days worth of lodging in east Africa,13 days worth of 3 meals a day in east Africa, and have 13 days worth of spending money for east Africa.

I need to have 4 different types of currency.

All of this to travel 15, 028 kms to climb 19,340 feet (while being 10hrs ahead of Vancouver time), in an attempt to raise $10,000.

I am a Grade-A, First Class,  #1 nutbar.

Check THIS out!!

Isn’t that freaking AWESOME?!  That’s my brother, Todd, standing in Tibet with Mt. Everest in the background. He just got back home yesterday after a 6-week trek through Tibet and Nepal.

Me? Jealous? Noooooooooooooooo…

I am SUCH a little sister!

Bratty Little Sister: Mooooooooooooooooooom! If Todd gets to go to Tibet, I want to go to Tibet!!

Mom: But you’re going to Tanzania!

Bratty Little Sister: BUT I WANNA’ GO TO TIBET!!   *stomps feet, crosses arms, sticks out bottom lip*

Mom: Oh for love of…

I’m pretty proud of my brother Todd for doing this. He totally inspires me. Before he left he wrote me an email about how he wasn’t sure what his trek was going to be like, or how he was going to do. He was a bit nervous as to how his body would react to the altitude, and wanted to be able to let me know ‘genetically’ what to expect when I climb Mt. Kilimanjaro. Isn’t he nice? He went all the way to Tibet to see how I would fare in Tanzania. Awww…. he loves me! I’m so glad that we’ve grown out of the punch-each-other phase.

Anyway, in his pre-trip email, he recounted an anecdote about our old dog, Oreo. If you gave Oreo a piece of toast crust, she would happily eat it and then look to you for another. However, if you gave her an entire piece of toast (yes, we did this.  A lot.  We were kids!  You know what? Just… don’t ask…) she would stare at you wide-eyed with this big crunchy piece of bread in her mouth, then wander away slowly. You would then hear her start to whine. For the next 20 minutes or so, you could watch her as she wandered around the house, whining, drooling through the toast onto the carpet, looking for a place to ‘bury’ her treasure. By day’s end we could certainly expect to find the toast piece wedged between the couch cushions, or nosed under a blanket on someone’s bed (hopefully she had licked the peanut butter off first).  She never ate the thing, she just hid it!

Todd’s explanation of recounting this story as it related to our adventures was this:

When I look at the map of the world and note that we’re spanning most of Asia it gets more and more daunting thinking about it.  In reality, one foot in front of the other is the farthest horizon I need to think about.  Our trips are similar in this regard…  It seems impossible to do what we’re setting out to do, so stop thinking about that and just concentrate on taking one more step.  You can always take ONE more step.

Remember Oreo and the Toast!

I think that has to be one of the best emails I have ever received in my life. Odd how a toast-burying dog can be motivational.

So, what I did was take a small part of Todd’s email, and made it a part of my journey. When he wrote, “You can always take ONE more step“, it really hit home for me. I took that small sentence, typed it out in big font, printed it off and had it laminated. It will be going with me on my climb. When I’m crying and snotting my way up Mt. Kilimanjaro in a few weeks, I’ll root through my backpack looking for kleenex, and I’ll come across this little laminated sentence. And maybe it’ll encourage me to just blow my nose, stand up, and take ONE more step. I can always take ONE more step.

I can do this. I just need to remember that sometimes I have to look at my feet and not at the peak.

Thanks Todd.

Thanks Oreo.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaand we’re back! Seems we had a wee systems issue for a bit there, but we’re back up and running now. Yay!

Ok, so I’m going to admit it: I’ve totally lost my motivation.

Again.

I’ve become all complacent and ‘meh‘ of late, and it’s taking a toll.  I *know* what I have to do, but I’m not bloody well doing it. I’ve become Lazy Pants McGee, and it’s not pretty. And to make matters worse, I have recently discovered that Dairy Queen makes a Peanut Buster Parfait Blizzard!  I KNOW!! It’s a good thing that the nearest DQ is a bit of a drive from here, and it helps that I’m a cheap-o who doesn’t want to waste the gas to get there.  Sometimes being Scottish pays off!

So, yes. I’m a slug. A slugball.

I’m a slobby slugball of Meh.

A slobby slugball of meh, with a Refuse-To-itis infection, wrapped in a vortex of excuse-o-rama.

Excuses, excuses, excuses!  “It’s too windy… it’s too hot… it’s too cold… it’s too far… it’s not far enough… I just washed my hair… the helmet makes my forehead break out… chlorine ruins my skin… I’ll get sweaty… I’m too tired… I just want to finish the last few chapters of my book… the dogs can’t come with me, and that makes me feel guilty… I’ll go tomorrow… blah, blah, blah…”

I’m such a twit. If I were half as motivated as I am creative, I’d be in great shape by now!

I am totally underestimating this climb, and I’m going to be in for a VERY rude awakening if I don’t get my act together soon.

I’m sure I’ll do that tomorrow…

ZOMG!ZOMG!ZOMG!

I’m so excited! Guess what, guess what?!  WE HAVE A NEW TEAM MEMBER!

So, there’s me, Ali, Christopher and now we have AMANDA to climb this mountain with us, too! She has been to Kili before (last year), but didn’t quite reach the summit, so this year… she’s doing it!  And I’m so proud of her for trying it one more time!

Amanda and I have known each other for about 14 years (holy crap! Really?!), and we’ve built up a really unique friendship along the way. She’s this mondo-smart woman who I greatly admire, and she and I have this great knack to be somewhat entirely opposite, but are able to sit around and talk for hours on end. Not bad, eh?

I’m truly thrilled that Amanda is on Team Kili 2010, and this addition just makes the trip that much better for me.

WELCOME AMANDA!!

xo

Well, that’s that. The Kili Gala has come and gone, and the donations are still being counted.

I just wanted to thank the many, MANY people who came out and lent a hand. My mom was there setting up tables at the beginning, selling tickets through the night, and cleaning up at the end. Good thing she won a bunch of raffle prizes to make up for her hard work!!  I went to her place this morning, and she has Tyler’s elephant photo put up on her wall already!

MJP  was a huge help, too. Bringing the slideshow, helping clean up at the end of the night, and kicking my arse in Jenga. Word to the wise: do NOT play Jenga with this guy for money.

Chris Udy was a mondo rad DJ, and thanks also goes to Fernando at Mirmor Productions for lending the mondo rad Chris the gear he needed to put on a great show.

Ali’s parents were tireless in their clean-up efforts, and they made that blah-est of tasks go by quickly at the end of the night when all we wanted to do was fall over and go to sleep. Her dad also manned the bar so that I could go get my arse kicked at Jenga.   xoxo

Ali’s brother Brian and his lovely (lucky raffle-winning) wife Pam were fab bartenders who handled the dying beer fridge with aplomb. THANK YOU!

Min Banwait came, she saw, she drummed. She set up, she made things look pretty and she helped my tireless mom, too. Thanks Mun!

Chris Bruckshaw from El Camino VolunTours was there, too! He set up a booth, chatted, gave out info, and inspired a whole bunch of people to look at vacations in a new way. Love that I’ve connected with El Camino!

And to all those that drove from afar – THANK YOU. I know Ladner is a bit far for some of you, but you came out and you got home safely, too. YAY!

Finally, I want to thank EVERYONE who came out last night. Maybe you stayed for a few hours, maybe you stayed for a few minutes… it was really, really great to have your support. That meant so very much. I can’t express my appreciation enough. I am humbled by your generosity. Truly.

And now… I need to spend the day cleaning out my car, sorting empties, cleaning my neglected home, doing laundry, walking the dogs, grocery shopping, paying bills soaking my feet and eating chocolate.

THANK YOU.

xoxo

Posters? Check.

Raffle prizes? Check.

Raffle tickets? Check.

Beer? Check.

Wine? Check?

Snacks? Check.

Decorations? Check.

Slideshow? Check.

Drummer? Check.

DJ? Check.

Nerves? Check.

Anxiety? Check.

Fear? Check.

Hope? Check.

WELCOME TO THE KILI GALA!!