Hard moments are just that—a moment.
That’s what I kept telling myself as I stood at the base of Cayambe, a mountain in Ecuador that I wasn’t sure I could climb.
I remember this moment clearly—just hours before we started our ascent. I felt nervous and uncertain, the weight of self-doubt heavy on my shoulders. I had trained for this, prepared for it, yet as I looked up at the glacier-covered peak, I questioned whether I was really ready. It’s funny how one small moment of doubt can make everything feel impossible.
My journey to Ecuador started with excitement. I had joined an all-women’s climbing group led by my coach, Lisa. It was a rare opportunity for me to push beyond my limits and see what I was really capable of. The plan was to climb some of Ecuador’s famous volcanoes—possibly Cotopaxi (the summit was still closed but set to reopen), Iliniza Norte, Rumiñahui, and finally, Cayambe.
The first few days were about adjusting to the altitude.
We spent time in Quito, which sits at about 9,000 feet above sea level and hiked some smaller mountains to get used to the thin air. But not everything went according to plan. Bad weather prevented us from reaching the summit of Iliniza Norte, and Cotopaxi was still closed, forcing us to turn back before we could finish the climbs.
By the time we reached Cayambe, I was determined, but the fear and self-doubt were still there. The night of the climb, we set out under a clear sky, with the stars lighting up the glacier. It was breathtaking, but also intimidating. The vastness of the glacier stretched out before us, icy and unforgiving.
Right when we started on the glacier, disaster struck—my crampon (a spiked tool that helps you walk on ice) came loose.
Panic hit me hard because I knew I couldn’t continue without it. Just when I thought I might have to turn back, Lisa came to the rescue with something simple—duct tape. She and one of our guides, Lucy, wrapped it around my crampon, securing it in place. It wasn’t perfect, but it worked. That moment taught me that even in the face of problems, there’s always a solution if you stay calm and think creatively.
As we climbed higher, the terrain became more challenging. At one point, we had to cross a narrow ledge, no wider than the space between my feet. Below us was a deep crevasse—if we fell, there would be no stopping the slide into the icy depths. My heart raced, but I stayed focused, one careful step at a time.
When we finally reached the summit at sunrise, it was a moment I’ll never forget.
The sky was clear, the wind calm, and the sun lit up the mountain and its wind-swept snow and ice in the most beautiful way. The fear and uncertainty I had felt earlier were gone, replaced by a feeling of peace and accomplishment. I made it. The view was stunning, but more than that, it was a reminder that even when things feel impossible, you can push through.
This climb wasn’t just about reaching the top of Cayambe—it was about overcoming my own doubts and fears. I learned that hard moments don’t last forever. They’re just moments, and they pass. What stays with you is the feeling of pushing through, of not giving up.
Throughout this adventure, the people around me made all the difference.
Lucy, our guide, was incredible. Her calm and steady leadership kept me grounded, and we became close over the course of the trip. I still keep in touch with her and plan to climb with her again someday. And then there was the local culture—the warmth of the people and the incredible food, especially the fresh fruit, which I miss even now.
Staying in Ecuador was its own adventure. We slept in historical estates that had been turned into lodges, with wild horses roaming freely outside.
The accommodations were beautiful, and each day we’d either hike or travel to our next destination, always surrounded by Ecuador’s incredible landscapes.
Looking back on this experience, I realize how much it has shaped me—not just as a climber, but as a person. Climbing these mountains taught me to trust myself more and to face challenges head-on, whether they’re on a glacier or in everyday life. I’ve learned that I’m capable of more than I ever imagined, and that lesson is something I carry with me, always.
For anyone considering a similar adventure, my advice is this: don’t aim for perfection.
Aim for consistency. Whether it’s training or climbing, just keep showing up, even when it’s hard. You’ll be amazed at what you can accomplish.
Next up is Rainier, followed by Baker with my brother—his first mountaineering trip. I can’t wait to see what new challenges and lessons the mountains have in store for me.
0 Comments