By Shannon Smiley, who is in her second year of a fellowship coordinating the Leading the Way program at Global Explorers, for
The Coloradoan.
Some asked me why, others asked how. To be honest, I didn't really know the answer.
Several weeks ago, I didn't know how a group of Mexican, American and Canadian young adults from Global Explorers could reach our goal of standing together at 17,000 feet on Mexico's third-highest peak - Iztaccíhuatl. I didn't know how we would communicate, how we would unite as a team or how our differences would strengthen us.
The task at hand was great, especially considering half the participants were blind.
Bells dangled from our trekking poles as they sounded their way through the chaotic terrain. The sun began its grand entrance into this Nov. 11 day; our frozen hands offered shouts of acclamation. It's summit day.
We'd spent five days acclimatizing and learning how to work together as a team, and summit day is the day that counts. Neighboring volcano Popocatépetl blew steam into the dawn, a scene more fit for the roaming of dinosaurs. We matched the rhythm of our steps to the pattern of our deep inhales and exhales.
"I can't breathe," says Eric, an exhausted participant who had never set foot much higher than sea level.
"Bro, you're not supposed to be able to breathe at 16,000 feet," I replied while using my trekking pole to give audio clues to the upcoming road-block. "Tap, tap. Rock on left, step over."
"I don't think I can make it,'' Eric said."
"You can. I know you can. One step at a time,'' I said.
Two hours passed and we were at the fixed ropes that would take my place as sighted-guide up the forth-class scramble.
"Hear that? You're going to make it,'' I said.
A guide's radio crackled and we heard the faint emotion of the summit. Like the smell of turkey on Thanksgiving morning, the tears, laughter and celebratory screams heard through the feedback of the radio offered a hint of the joy ahead.
But we weren't there yet.
"If you're going to fall, fall right,'' I said. "You many never see your family again if you slip left. Step up. Step right. Follow the rock wall with your right arm. And stop."
You learn the importance of telling a blind person when to stop early on in the trail - sometimes the hard way (to the detriment of your calves).
"OK, Eric, this part is a little tricky," Jeff said as he took over. "I want you to
grab my pack with both hands and follow in my footsteps."
Colorado's Erik Weihenmayer, the only blind man to summit each continent's highest peak and his climbing partner, Jeff Evans, are among the outstanding leaders from Global Explorers.
"Dude, by the way, you better not use those ropes", Jeff shouted over his shoulder as Erik began to scramble over and around the fixed lines.
"Steve, how you doing, man?" I said as I paused on the precarious platform as Eric and Jeff proceeded.
"Fine, I just can't feel my hand ... my left arm doesn't work," he said.
On May 13, 2008, U.S. Army Specialist Steve Baskis lost his vision during combat operations in Iraq. Shrapnel wounds and severe nerve damage in his left arm demand creative uses of blind climbing techniques.
"You can do it. I can see the summit. Ten more minutes,'' I said.
With Eric gripping Jeff's pack in front of me and Steve and his guide behind me, I used the rope to pull myself onto a group of rocks that are finally level with the cheers we'd faintly heard earlier.
Against all odds, we made it. We made it to the knees of Iztaccíhuatl.
"You did it man. So many people doubted you. But you did it!" Jeff said as he slapped Eric on the back.
"I feel like I'm on top of the world," he replied between labored breaths.
Hugs were given and received freely, tears abounded and the shared joy of a summit transcended all cultural and visual barriers.
I contemplated the juxtaposition of the world's third-largest city - Mexico City -hidden just below the sea of marshmallow clouds and the sound of space all around me. Before we gathered for a group photo, I looked up and saw Steve trying to rub warmth into his left hand and heard Jeff's gruff but confident voice: "Hey Steve, Happy Veteran's Day, bro."
The pause that followed that lasted but seconds and the smile that formed on his face defined how I now understood the power of a determined human spirit.
The group gathered around a sign that read in print and Braille: "Para descubrir el mundo, no necesitas verlo. Para conquistar tus metas tampoco. Lo Logramos, llegamos a la cima! ("To discover the world, you don't need to see it. Nor to conquer your goals. We did it! We made it to the summit!'')
My eyes began to well up with tears as I snapped the photo and realized in this moment our similarities greatly outweighed our differences. I still may not know how we did it, but seeing the confidence in the eyes of those who doubted, the joy in those who suffered and the trust between those who were strangers, I now know why.
The work we did in the days leading up to the climb - participating in a service project and getting to know each other - would prove themselves invaluable. We figured out all the hows and made it safely down the volcano and back to Mexico City.
The team would later go on to participate in high-profile events featuring the release of the Spanish translation of Weihenmayer's book "Touch the Top of the World'' and the Mexican premier of his movie "Blindsight. ''
In the words of Weihenmayer: "Reach. Even when you don't know what you'll find.''
By Shannon Smiley, who is in her second year of a fellowship coordinating the Leading the Way program at Global Explorers, for The Coloradoan.
