DISPATCHES

Howkins

The beginning of the trek is always a period of introspection, a time to think about both the journey ahead and the families and friends we have left behind. We have all been receiving emails from home in the past few days, and we know we wouldn't be here without the encouragement of hundreds of friends, spouses, parents, climbing partners, and sponsors.

I, for example, wouldn't have been able to join this expedition without the help of my parents and fiance, who are caring for my daughter, Devi.. Special thanks go to my very tolerant, supportive mother. She's the only person in the world who can tell whether I have a stuffed-up nose from the way I answer the phone. She's the CEO of a group of child-care centers, she has written a book that is in its second printing, and she bakes killer chocolate chip cookies.

Being the mother of a high-altitude climber is not an enviable position, especially when you consider the bizarre habits climbers cultivate and the inevitable generation gap. I had a hard time just before my first expedition explaining why I was packing a water bottle with a skull-and-crossbones penned on it. (It's my pee bottle.) And I still haven't managed to convince her that pit zips are an excellent way of managing underarm odors.

Probably the most difficult part of being the mother of a climber is receiving news, via email or postcards. My letter from today, for example, might read:

Dear Mom,

The Chinese Army finally finished moving all of their tanks and troops, and let us through the checkpoint at Mazar yesterday. The 8-hour off-road jeep ride through Mazar to the end of the road was uneventful, aside from one minor accident -- our jeep drove into a ditch at about 30 mph. I hit my head on the windshield, but the headache went away in a couple of hours and the jeep wasn't too badly damaged.

Our camel drivers were waiting for us at Ilik, the "end of the road". When I went over to talk to them, one of them pointed first at me, and then himself, and then the bushes. I politely declined this particular invitation, but agreed to taste the soup they were brewing over an open fire. There were noodles in the soup, and some kind of black meat. They had just added cerebral matter from a goat's head that was being roasted on a stick, so I think the meat was probably goat. Your chicken soup is much better.

We woke up this morning to the sound of prehistoric screams echoing off the canyon walls around us. There are 71 camels here with us, and most of them are not very happy about this little journey. We were supposed to have 75 camels, but 4 of them died on the way here. One got hit by a jeep, another was killed by rockfall, and two more died of altitude sickness. This is the bad news. The good news is that our team was more fortunate than the camels. There are still 18 of us.

Lots of love, Heidi

Here are excerpts from a few "Dear Mom" postcards from some of my previous expeditions:

Dear Mom,

I finally learned how to sew today. One of our Balti porters got hit by a falling rock. We put in 21 neat little cross-stitches.

Dear Mom,

Thanks for your letter. Please don't worry, I am feeling fine. I'm sleeping very well, too. We had two feet of snow here at Base Camp last night, and I didn't even wake up when my tent collapsed.

Dear Mom,

Could you find out if my insurance policy covers remote rescues? It's very important.

Dear Mom,

If you get a chance to send me another package, could you please include a magazine called "Playboy"? I need it to barter for some equipment. Oh, and one with the centerfold intact would be great. I think I can get a half-barrel of candy bars for it.

Dear Mom,

Remember the time Dad fell through the ice on his bike, walked home in wet clothes in the dark and then went straight back to the lake with the canoe to fish his bike out? I've been thinking about that. We had to cross a chest-deep river on the glacier today. You were right. He should have put some dry clothes on before he went back.

Dear Mom,

Got a new recipe for you. We've been running low on high-altitude food, so I've had to improvise a little. This one's called the Happy Stomach Meal: 1 pot of melted snow, 2 handfuls of mashed potato powder, 1 handful of drink powder (lemon-lime flavor is best). Heat until water is absorbed, and then add Power Gel or tuna or anything else available. I know you don't usually like the food I cook, but I assure you, this tastes really great, especially above 21,000 feet.

Dear Mom,

I dropped a mitt today. Had to go back down 500 feet to retrieve it. We've got so many new high-tech materials with us - things with names like Polarguard, Gore Tex, and Rip Stop. But my favorites are still the wool mittens you made me. They smell the best.

Dear Mom,

It's 2:00 a.m. I just had to pull my boots on and crawl out of the tent to go pee. The stars are like a field of wildflowers, the moon is full, and I'm wondering whether you found an investor. I miss our midnight chats. Please don't forget to find time for yourself.

Love, Heidi

— Heidi Howkins, MountainZone.com Correspondent

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