Elbrus - Part 2

15/8/7

Veni, Vidi, Vici. Although conquered is perhaps not always the right word to describe a mountain, on August 13th, standing atop the roof of Europe, I truly felt Caesar-esque. Just a few hundred kilometres north east of Zile in northern Turkey, where Caesar scored his blitzkreig-like victory over Pharnaces II of Pontus in 47BC, I fell to my knees in tears atop the summit of Elbrus.

They say the true measure of success lies not in the victory, but in all the pain and suffering endured to achieve your goal. That was never more true for me than on this climb. Physically, emotionally, mentally, I had to reach for everything I had, and then beyond.

After a bout of food poisoning hit our group the night before Summit Day, many had to drop out. Some still managed to climb through the pain. Although not as severely hit, I had a terrible night's sleep and an upset stomach by the time the 3AM wake up came along.

Lying in bed, I had no idea whether I would be able to get out of my sleeping bag, let alone to the summit. In some ways, I was reminded of Willis Reed in Game 7 of the 1972 NBA Finals. After a badly sprained ankle sidelined him for Game 6, no-one, including Willis himself, knew, as the rest of the Knicks left the locker room, whether he would play. Play he did, and the Knicks won the championship.

I still don't know exactly what took me out of bed. But after the first few steps out of the room, a growing sense gripped me that this was something I WOULD achieve. Like a Robert Frost poem, I would take the road less travelled, the one towards the roof of Europe.

As we stepped out of the Rat Rack at Patsuhov Rocks, greeted by negative 10 degree weather and a wind chill factor that probably took it down another 10 degrees, I will always remember Neil's words, "Welcome to paradise."

By the time we reached the saddle, between the two peaks, I think I had gone beyond the point of exhaustion. There was so much mental energy required to focus, over so many dangerous curves, where a mis-step meant a 300 metre fall.

I think some of the local guides could see this in me, as I regularly got told to turn back as we approached the Western Summit. I wanted to say, although I didn't, "You couldn't drag me off the mountain at this point."

And after 8 hours of narrow ledges, blistering cold and a 1000 metre ascent, we finally saw it in front of us. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I approached the last 100 metres. As I reached the summit, I fell to my knees and broke down. I had never been through anything tougher in my life. This was ten times harder than Kilimanjaro, and I felt I went beyond every logical limit I had.

I can still remember rubbing the ring, Grandpa's wedding band on my finger, and feeling a sense of strength from my own family.

There were many places I had to look for inspiration, but none moreso than my family. Honestly, if not for Cory and raising money for Autism research, I don't think I would have made it to the summit.

And then of course, we had to deal with the descent, which took us past all the same dangers. I had reached exhaustion on the way up, so it was almost blind autopilot that somehow took me down.

Even a day later, as we reached our hotel in the Teskol Valley, I don't think the gravity of the moment had hit me. Today, sitting in the shade of the courtyard, as the sun illuminates the picturesque Caucaus Mountains, the serenity and tranquility of the moment, gives me pause to absorb this massive achievement.

A sense of calm washes over me, as I remember favourite saying of my Grand Uncle, Dr. Anandatissa de Alwis, one of the finest intellectual minds of a generation:

"Quiet his mind is,

Quiet the speech and deed,

As such by thorough knowledge,

Emancipated, Calm."

- Buddha

Elbrus - Part 1

10/8/7

August 10th, 1923. A seemingly innocuous date in human history. However, a very special date for the select few who got to know my Nanna, for this was the day she came into the world.

3700 metres up Elbrus, my thoughts are with my Grandfather and my parents, as they scatter Nan's ashes at Mt Lavina Hotel in Sri Lanka. In many ways, this climb has reminded me of the importance of family, from Mum and Dad, to Nanna and Grandpa and Nanna and Papa.

Chatting to a friend while hiking in the Teskol Valley, I came across an interesting thought. Mountaineering in itself, is a selfish endeavour. However, when you raise money for a charity, it gives a greater purpose to your endeavours.

That seems right for me, since after two days of some very tough hikes in the valley, I felt I had reached my limit. The only thing that kept me going in my mind, was the thought that, "This is for Cory."

Somewhere, deep down, I have an irrational belief that when I suceed here, it would mean Cory will be cured. Irrational, inconceivable, of course. But it is the irrational and inconceivable that has marked the upward surge of mankind, from the time we stepped out the cave till when we took to the skies above.

With the comraderie of my new friends, this belief will be what drives me to the summit.

Romania

7/8/7

The sheer opulence and grandoise vision of it all. Over a day after leaving Romania, and now being able to take in the natural splendour of the Caucaus Mountains, I am still struck by the stunning beauty of Ceausescu's Palace.

Built as his communist regime, as well as the economy of the country disintegrated around him, it is truly a testament to his meglamania. It is the second largest building in the world behind the Pentagon, and at a cost of a lazy $10B, easily the most spectacular large building.

Not a single room or detail was overlooked. From the marble staircases to the 90 foot high ceilings, this building truly stands in a class of its own.

Romania is an amazing country to visit. And thanks to my gracious hosts, Daniel and Nicki, I was able to experience large swathes of it in my short time there.

Hiking in the Carpathians brought back memories of the Blue Mountains, and the snow capped peaks gave them their own distinct character. 12th century Citadels and Dracula's Castle gave me a feeling of living in the middle ages.

But if there is one enduring image that will stay with me from my time in Romania, it will no doubt be Ceausescu's Palace.

UK

1/8/7

Good friends. Like a fine Scotch, they just get better with age. My time here in England has been immortalised in my mind by the unmitigated kindness of good friends. Whether it be high school (Pascal and Tania), Uni (Ross and Nat) or Climbing (Mark and Lorna) friends, each have played such an important role to make my memories of the UK tinged with happiness and joy.

Having a pint at the pub with an old friend; dining in splendour in the confines of a historic church, or simply enjoying a good single malt from Oban, into the early hours of the morning with a great mate; these are the collective memories which have shaped my experience of England.

As generation y spreads their wings, across the oceans and to far away lands, I feel blessed to know that I will share many more of these moments with friends around the world, in the coming years.

I'm a lucky guy. :)

London

31/7/7

"We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender."

Sitting here on the banks of the Thames, Churchill's words, at the deepest, darkest moments of the London bombings, echoed in my mind. Perhaps moreso than any other modern day metropolis, London is a survivor. From the Great Plague, to the Great Fires; From the Battle of Britain to modern day terrorism, London has shown a remarkable resilience to never say die.

And from my short time here, I can get the feeling of a city of strength. Much like New York, London seems to imbide an electricity, which is where the growth and culture of the city comes from.

Looking out at the London Eye, just across the river from Big Ben, I can see new and old cultures helping to shape modern day London. As we stand at the dawn of a new millenium, I feel certain London will continue to help shape our destiny. After all, she is a survivor.