Ten people, including the author, ascended Mount Kilimanjaro to increase awareness of Alzheimer's disease.

I am not a sports enthusiast, and my lifestyle cannot be described as highly active, but when I received an invitation from Alzheimer’s Disease International (ADI) to join its World Team in climbing 19,340-foot Mount Kilimanjaro in Tanzania, East Africa, I accepted. The purpose of the effort was to increase awareness of Alzheimer’s disease and raise funds to combat it.

For the last 10 years, I have been a volunteer for the Hong Kong Alzheimer’s Disease Association (HKADA). Last year, I was nominated and elected to the ADI board. Although I do not hike a lot, I love hiking. Still, I was not without reservations. Could I really make it? Would I become a burden to other members of the team? Would I get altitude sickness and my attempt to climb to the top be in vain? We had to pay for our own transportation, and all funds raised would go to the local Alzheimer’s association. The goal for each member of the team was to raise US $10,000. Would I be able to raise that much money?

The trip was costly. Would it not be easier to just donate the money to the HKADA, and save myself the trouble? Previously, I had hiked in Nepal and almost fell into depression because I could not shower during the trip. Until then, I had never realized that cleanliness was that important to my mental health. Would I become depressed again climbing what the local people call Kibo?

The initial responses from my family and friends were lukewarm at best. They did not believe it was a good idea. “You are no longer so young and fit,” I was told. “You probably overestimate what you are capable of.” As time went by, and because I was determined, my family and friends became “converted” and involved. They helped me get the equipment I needed and raise funds.

I started training in March 2006. I did not exactly follow the training schedule as advised, but tried my best. Life was busy enough without having to prepare for this trip. I was born and brought up in subtropical Hong Kong, so I was not too concerned about the heat in Africa. I was concerned, however, about the cold I would encounter when hiking the upper reaches of the mountain. Looking at the list of items I needed to obtain, I was both horrified and puzzled by the layers of warm clothing that were required. Although I had lived in Toronto for four years, I could not imagine what the weather would be like at an altitude of 19,340 feet. We were told we could expect anything from sun to rain, even snow. I had slept in a tent only once or twice in my life. Even in Nepal, I stayed in huts rather than tents.

In the dining tent, the team enjoyed a time of camaraderie.

As the time drew close, I was not just worried about whether I had adequately trained. I was also concerned that I may have underestimated the possibility of altitude sickness. What if I got it? From the ADI Web site, I knew about the other team members. There were 10 of us from eight different countries—Canada; Hong Kong, Special Administrative Region of the People’s Republic of China; Denmark; Dominican Republic; Hungary; Turkey; United Kingdom and United States.

As the climb approached, I read my teammates’ brief descriptions about themselves. Nasuh from Turkey had climbed Everest and K2. Ruben from the Dominican Republic had reached the summits of 10 mountains in 10 days. Aniko from Hungary had already been up Kibo twice. Jean from the United States and Hanne from Denmark cycled and had run marathons. Dave from Canada had exercised all his life. I was taken aback to find myself the weakest link in the group. Everybody else seemed physically very able. Was my decision to join rational?

Departure day finally came, and I joined the team at the Kilimanjaro airport the evening of Sept. 14, 2006. We started our climb on Sept. 16. We intended to reach the summit on Sept. 21—World Alzheimer’s Day—to tell the world it has been 100 years since the disease was first described by Alois Alzheimer, a German psychiatrist and neuropathologist. We wanted to inform the world that 24.3 million people have suffered from Alzheimer’s disease. There is one new case every seven seconds and, by 2040, 81.1 million people will be affected (Ferri et al., 2005).

There is no time to lose. We need to act now and find as many ways as we can to learn about the disease, treat it, cure it and provide care for those who unfortunately succumb to the disorder. Dementia care is my specialty and my passion, which is why I volunteer for the HKADA.

The hike was not at all what I had expected. It was fairly easy throughout, except for the summit day. We hiked for only three to six hours each day. As I spent my first night on Kibo, I saw a sky full of stars for the first time in my life. It was magical! Hong Kong is a cosmopolitan city, bright even at night. Pollution clouds our skies, and I had forgotten that the night sky is indeed packed with twinkling stars.

On the second day, I was up early, at 5 a.m., and witnessed a dim light glowing on the horizon, which very slowly lightened to a pastel blue, then a pale green. Not long after that, an orange edge was added to the layers of color. Then the sky turned bright as the sun finally took hold. It had been a long time since I had seen the sun rise.

The author at Uhuru Peak, the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro.

Life in a tent was not that harsh. We had water to wash our faces, and there were toilet facilities at each campsite, or the tour operator would provide a portable toilet. The greatest frustration I had was packing and unpacking each morning and evening. My other complaint was the necessity to carry so much water. I was not used to carrying two to three liters of water on my back. Trails in Hong Kong are never too remote, so hikers can get their supplies fairly easily.

As we hiked, the team got to know each other better and enjoyed each other’s company. Each evening, we had supper at 6 or 6:30, after which we remained in the dining tent, chatting away for an hour or so, before returning to our tents. Most of the time, I was already getting into my sleeping bag, made to withstand -18 degrees Celsius, by 8:30.

I didn’t need an alarm clock, as I awoke about 6 a.m. each day. Never in my adult life had I led such a regular and healthy lifestyle. Fortunately for me, it did not get very cold. On the afternoon of the fourth day, while resting, we had a hailstorm. Small pellets rained down from the sky nonstop, until the whole campsite was white. Paul, from the United States, took a close-up picture to document that it was hail and not snow. The whitened campsite helped us forget how dusty the place was and how dirty we were.

Kibo is a dormant volcano with volcano dust everywhere. We all had dark rings around our fingernails and bad hair days every day, but we accepted this as a fact of life up on the mountain. We joked about our appearances, and the shower we would have at the end of our climb became the talk of the team.

On summit day, I hiked 14 hours. The guides set the uphill climb at the pace of the slowest person—me—so we more or less reached the peak at the same time. When I reached the summit, I could hardly believe I had really done it.

As I look back, I realize that my worries and fears were unfounded. The team and the guides were there to help us. I was not left to depend on my own capabilities. Looking back, I am surprised I was so afraid of not making it. Although I have no doubts about my intellectual abilities, I was not so sure about my performance when my physical abilities were put to the test.

What did I learn from the experience? There was much to take in. As I write this, two weeks after the climb, I still need more time to reflect on the experience and to make sense of it. One important lesson I learned is that one should not be held back by fears and worries. If you allow them to threaten and deter you, you may never find the true extent of your potential.

I had a wonderful group of thoughtful and kind people around me—members of the World Team; Ken Hirst, our leader and accompanying physician; and the porters and guides who became our friends. The most important goal of this climb was to raise awareness and funds. Getting to the top was a bonus.

Members of Alzheimer's Disease International's World Team.

My decision to join a fund-raising, awareness promotion event became a journey into knowing a bit more about myself, insight that seemed hidden until the journey up Kibo revealed it to me. As a mature adult who thought I already knew myself completely, I learned something new: In pursuing a goal I believe in, I must not let fears consume me and stop me from moving forward. The perceived difficulty may be real or imagined, but I will never find out for sure unless I try. It seems to be a simple lesson, one I must have learned before, but my participation in ADI’s Centenary Climb has taught me this valuable lesson once more.

To the Uhuru Peak of Kilimanjaro via the Rongai Route
Day	Events	Height in feet
1	Car ride to park entrance (6,000 ft), hiked for 3 hours to Simba Camp	9,190
2	Hiked for 6 hours to Kikelowa Cave campsite	11,975
3	Hiked for 4 hours to Mawrenzi Tarn Hut	14,100
4	Acclimatization day, climbed up Mawrenzi and returned to same camp	14,100
5	Hiked for 4.5 hours to Kibo Huts	15,420
6	Left at midnight and reached the summit at 8:30 a.m., descended back to Kibo Huts and hiked to Horombo Huts	19,340 (summit) 12,200 (Horombo)
7	Hiked for 6 hours to Marangu Gate	climb completed 6,365

RNL

Claudia K.Y. Lai, RN, PhD, is an associate professor in the School of Nursing of The Hong Kong Polytechnic University in Hong Kong, Special Administrative Region of the People’s Republic of China.

Reference:
Ferri, C., Prince, P., Brayne, C., Brodaty, H., Fratiglioni, L., Ganguli, M. et al., for Alzheimer Disease International. (2005). Global prevalence of dementia: a Delphi consensus study. Lancet, 366, 2112-2117.