4 years ago, I spent half of my February on Kilimanjaro. My friend Meredith was just there, on the same route that I took, so I’ve been thinking about Kili a lot lately. I’ll write a trip report someday soon – some of the best experiences I’ve ever had were there – but right now I want to write about one thing in particular.
Around 3am on February 18, at about 18,500 feet, freezing, and exhausted from 4 days without sleep, I had one of the most meaningful experiences of my life. Continue reading Hearing the Dead at Eighteen-Five