The Friday Five: My Favorite Rocky Mountains

I just returned from the mountains of Colorado where the majestic snow-capped mountains meet alpine tundra, rushing streams, brilliant wildflowers, rocky peaks, and towering lodge pole pines. When I was 12, I attended an outdoor adventure summer camp in Estes Park, CO and was too afraid of the adventure, so I spent my days on the archery range. But once I finally climbed my first mountain (they made me do it!), it changed everything. I ended up spending 9 summers there in the beauty of the mountains and the fellowship of young women who dared to face summits as courageously as they dared to face their own fears. I have climbed more mountains than I can count, but here are five favorites that remain with me. 1. Mt. Audubon (13,233 ft) is in the Indian Peaks Wilderness outside of Rocky Mountain National Park. The trail begins in the trees, but you quickly come upon miles of open tundra with stunning views of the Indian Peaks and the Never Summer Range. This is my favorite mountain to climb, and I love bringing friends (and James) along for this one.

2. Chief's Head (13,579 ft) is the third tallest mountain in Rocky Mountain National Park. If you look at it from a distance, the mountain looks like the profile of an Indian Chief. This is a great day climb to do from a backpack to Sandbeach Lake. This is where I learned how to glissade down snowfields (it's like skiing in your hiking boots) and how to let go and have fun.

3. Long's Peak (14,259) is the highest mountain in Rocky Mountain National Park and is the beloved goal for most adventurers to the park. I climbed it once as a 14-year-old camper and then returned as a counselor to lead a group of remarkable 12- and 13-year-olds for their first summit to Longs. Isabella Bird was one of the first women to climb Longs in the 1800s - wearing a hoop skirt! - so one time I climbed Longs in a dress to honor her (NOT pictured below :-).

4. Navajo Peak (13,409 ft) is another mountain in the Indian Peaks Wilderness. It is more of a technical climb that requires a lot of scrambling up a steep couloir as well as creative maneuvering to climb up the chimney of its peak. There was an airplane crash on Navajo in 1948 where three people died, and the wreckage of the plane remains scattered along the gully up to the mountain. There are still remnants of plane sidings and engine parts along the way which is surely terrifying to think about. It's hard to remember if I love this mountain because of the climb itself or because of the girls whom I climbed it with. It's probably both. The top of Navajo in the photo is the triangle mountain in the background.

5. South Arapaho (13,397 ft) will always be special to me because it was the first mountain I ever climbed. At 12-years-old I cried my way up as I struggled for oxygen, and ultimately, for courage. This mountain taught me that I didn't have to live a life of caution and fear - and that there is great reward in pushing beyond the boundaries of physical comfort.

What about you? Any mountain favorites?

The Friday Five

Here are five photos to share for the week: 1. Marsabit District is populated by pastoralists who move around the desert of northern Kenya. The curved branches on the camels assemble into a dome, and they lay materials over the structure to create their homes.

2. AIDS Support Group in Torbi, Kenya. The woman on the very far right in the blue dress and gold earrings is Clara, our fearless leader and nurse who ensures that those who are HIV positive are receiving proper care and support.

3. Paloma Grace, our 4-month-old niece has made it strongly through an open heart surgery and another follow-up surgery. We are overjoyed to see photos and hear that she is thriving.

4. The Sound of Music (well, kind of). The wonderful group I traveled with to Rwanda all agreed that one of our co-travelers, Susan, looked and acted just like Julie Andrews in the Sound of Music. We had just finished attending a special Rwandan celebration (note the lime green dresses) and went to Lake Burera for lunch. We had Susan, a guitar, a scenic background and "play clothes" and therefore couldn't resist staging this photo.

5. Community Health Visits in Lwala, Kenya. The woman in red is Lilian, a new mother of twins. The woman in the back is Sheila, the community health worker who has supported her through pregnancy, delivery and post natal care. The baby in the picture is Godfrey.

When a Homeless Man Changed My Life

I believe that God speaks to us in the everyday moments of our lives - the people we pass by on the street, the whispers of heaven through a quiet walk in the woods, the glimpses of new perspective that come from the simple art of paying attention. When I was nine, I met a homeless man who changed my life. He stood alone on a San Francisco corner with a droop in his face and an ache in his voice. He was hungry.

I couldn't stop thinking about him while I was out to dinner with my mom, and I stared at my food like it didn't belong to me. I wrapped my hamburger up and walked back to give the hungry man my dinner. We walked street after street in search for him, but we never found him. Since then, I have been walking through life looking to know more people like him.

When I was 13, I regularly snuck out of church to hang out at the city park with my homeless friends. I'd buy them a sandwich from Subway or Arby's and listen to their stories. I learned that there were countless hungry bellies and beaten souls out there, and that life is a battle for so many.

When I was 15, I showed up to volunteer at the Red Cross shelter and they were so short on help, they immediately appointed me kitchen facilitator - ensuring that the residents would be served dinner each night. I spent three years rushing between school and extra-curricular activities and building a community of friends among the staff and residents of the shelter.

I went to college to become a nurse. But then I passed out every time I visited a hospital. So I got into politics and international studies. I quickly learned that the stories of the poor in America are a mere sample of what the rest of the world experiences. While in nursing school, I had learned about HIV/AIDS and how the virus attacks the weakest parts of our immune system. While studying international relations, I discovered that the HIV/AIDS crisis was also attacking the weakest members of our society: women and children in Africa.

When I was 21, I seized an opportunity to bring attention to those who have been most affected by the HIV/AIDS and water crises in Africa. I thought of that homeless man and how he was ignored amidst personal suffering, and I wished for a different story for him and for all who have felt written off and forgotten.

Today at 30, I think often about what my life would have looked like had there not been a sacred grace at nine years old when one person's humanity lured my own, and it continues to affect the way I live today. May we all risk the art of paying attention.