Don’t Dream It, Do It
Katy Glenie is the 2020 Mastering Mountains Grant recipient and she has an exciting goal: to climb the Minarets, a 3,000m peak in the Southern Alps. In her own words, Katy recounts a course she recently attended as part of her training for the climb.
“Up, around, along and then we were there. The summit. The summit! I couldn’t believe it. Tears began streaming as I whooped with joy.”
Katy Glenie, nearing the summit while climbing in the Remarkables.
I had been planning the climbing trip to Queenstown for a few months, researching alpine training courses that would suit someone with MS. It would be my first time back in the mountains since my MS diagnosis, and I wanted to make the right selection.
I picked up the phone and a few tentative calls later, found a company that was happy to take me, as long as I had my doctor’s approval. Progress, but I continued the search. That’s when I found a company who took a much breezier approach. “If your MS doesn’t normally affect your mobility, I’m sure you’ll be fine. Just let your guide know if you’re having any problems.” At first I wondered if that was just a little too breezy for my liking. But then I realised it was actually the ultimate vote of confidence.
Prior to my diagnosis I’d climbed several alpine peaks. I had the skills and the knowledge, but I no longer had the confidence. This course was the perfect fit for me – they were trusting me to make the right calls for my body, and I was trusting them to give me back my climbing mojo.
The night before the start of the course I received a call from our climbing guide. “Tomorrow is the best weather day, so we’ll be climbing Single Cone in the Remarkables. Prepare for a big day on the mountain. See you tomorrow morning.” My mind immediately objected: Ummmm, I thought this was a training course, rather than a climb-lots-of-hard-mountains course.
I was nervous. I packed my alpine pack and filled it with everything I could think of. I repacked again with more stuff, less stuff, more stuff, extra snacks, different snacks. I looked at the weather forecast a few times. I told my husband that I couldn’t do it. He told me I could.
Crossing the frozen Lake Alta, in the Remarkables.
Suddenly, it was tomorrow, and my friend and I were clambering out of guide Mark’s truck at the base of The Remarkables ski field. Mark set off at a cracking pace towards Lake Alta, barely pausing for breath in between stories about his alpine rescue work and his life in Aoraki Mt Cook National Park. I lagged behind as doubts crowded through my mind. Should I be drinking more water? How was my body feeling? Should we be stopping more? I ate more snacks.
We finally paused for a longer rest in the soft snow by Lake Alta. From this vantage we could see Single Cone towering above us. It looked a long, long, long way to the top. Crampons on, ice axes out – things were getting real. Bit by bit, we worked our way up from the lake’s edge towards the firmer snow of the ridge line.
On the ridge line, the world began spreading out below us. The air was crisp and clear. We stopped to rope-up for a tricky section and stuffed down a quick sandwich.
Up, around, along and then we were there. The summit. The summit! I couldn’t believe it. Tears began streaming as I whooped with joy. Aoraki/Mount Cook pierced the horizon, Tititea/Mount Aspiring glistened to the north-west, and even Tutuko muscled into the scene, way off beyond the head of Lake Whakatipu. What. A. Day.
And now, I am writing this from my study back in Taupō, as NZ sits through Lockdown 2.0 due to a new outbreak of Coronavirus. Returning home, I was pretty exhausted. Despite this, the course showed me that I can do it. I am making progress. I am getting my climbing mojo back. I can see our local mountain range from my window, and I’m dreaming of the next adventure on my journey to climb the 3,000-metre Minarets in November.
A HUGE thank you to Nick and the team at Mastering Mountains, to my awesome neurophysio Gilly Davy, and to my husband and 4½ year old daughter who have all been backing me each step of the way.
