At nearly 20,000 feet, Mount Kilimanjaro is the highest point in Africa and the largest free-standing mountain in the world. It takes a seven-day hike to reach the summit.
Although two Gainesville health care professionals, Dr. Meagan McCall and nurse Jamie Burrow, had trained together all summer for that climb, as they neared the summit last month, a heavy measure of dread began outweighing the excitement.
Their routine of running, lifting, hiking and climbing seemingly endless stairs at Ben Hill Griffin Stadium was not simply for the challenge, but for a good cause: to raise money for families facing cancer. And their plan was to hoist a “Climb for Cancer” banner at the top of the mountain.
But on the final push to the summit, McCall’s determination would run headlong into the authority of the mountain. “A couple of hours in,” she said, “it nailed me like a ton of bricks.”
As the altitude and thin air took its toll at the pinnacle of their success, Burrow kept turning around, looking for McCall, but not seeing her.
Burrow too was struggling. “I was already exhausted,” she said. “Going into it, you go together, but you can’t stay behind, because of the altitude. So, you have to make that decision.”
With no sight of McCall, Burrow continued on up the mountain.
Then a heavy question came: Would they conquer Kilimanjaro together?
The plan
McCall and Burrow both work at UF Health Shands Hospital, but they had not met until Ron and Dianne Farb introduced them to one another and to the Climb for Cancer Foundation at an informal event last year. The Farbs, who founded the Gainesville-based non-profit, have raised over $3.5 million by organizing climbs on world-class mountains and tapping climbers to help raise funds in support of the foundation.
The donations go directly to the UF Foundation, where the money is earmarked for programs suppling practicalities such as gas cards for families traveling to UF for treatment, restaurant vouchers, or lodging support. In its over 20-year existence, Climb for Cancer has expanded the organization to endow a scholarship program, fund medical devices, and even sponsor a fertility program.
Formerly a cardiac nurse at Shands, Burrow is the program manager of Florida’s top-rated lung transplant program at UF Health. She has faced cancer in her own family and been at the bedside of patients hearing a devastating diagnosis for the first time, so the foundation’s mission resonated for her.
McCall is completing her fellowship in pediatric oncology at Shands, a journey that began as a student leader on a six-week, undergraduate mission to Togo with The Master’s University in Southern California.
After that trip, her career path was set to become a physician. Treating children with cancer, it was an easy choice to climb and raise the funds. She knows exactly what those families go through.
For Burrow, there was some hesitation due her children Ty, 15 and Abbey, 12.
“I wouldn’t say I had doubts, but I’ve got two young, beautiful children who depend on me,” she said.
Ultimately, they would provide inspiration for Burrow along the way.
On Aug. 31, the hikers took Kenyan Airways from New York’s JFK Airport, and after a brief layover in Nairobi, they landed at Kilimanjaro International Airport. Eight thousand miles and a seven-hour time change from home, Burrow and McCall finally dropped their bags in their hotel room around 1 a.m.
They had a single day to acclimate, then head to the mountain.
The climb
At Kilimanjaro National Park, Alpine Ascents, a guide company with three Tanzanian and one American guide, and 30 porters, prepped McCall, Burrow and four other hikers to begin the ascent.
Embarking at 6,000 feet on the Machame route up the mountain, through a rainforest, it was drizzling, then raining hard, and low clouds obscured the mountaintop. By the end of Day Two, both McCall and Burrow were lulled into a sense of ease about the climb.
“I felt so good,” Burrow said. She started to wonder if she needed all the gear. Their guide told her to “live in the moment.” She understood.
“That’s what I tell patients,” she said. “Let’s focus on today. When we get there, we’ll talk about tomorrow.”
McCall also had early questions about the climb’s difficulty—or lack of it.
“Am I going to feel this good the whole time?” she asked the guides.
But a 19,341-foot mountain will not relinquish its power easily.
On Day Three, at altitude 12,500, the prized vista of the mountain materialized on an awe-inspiring, clear and cold hike of ascents and descents of several thousand feet.
“There’s a purpose, to acclimatize your body for a lack of oxygen,” McCall said.
On Day Four, the climbers conquered the Barranco Wall over a narrow path alongside a sheer drop. The only negative was having to look down and concentrate on their footing, missing some of the stunning scenery all around.
“It was just so majestic,” McCall said. “The terrain is different from mountains in the U.S., and you’re sleeping above the clouds every night.”
At the end of Day Five, they arrived at Kosovo Camp, which at nearly 16,000 feet is the last overnight camp before summit. A biting cold had set in. Burrow woke up to frozen boots, McCall to a frozen toothbrush. Their push to the summit would begin at midnight.
With headlamps fixed, cloth face masks on, poles in hand and foot warmers in their boots, a seven- to eight-hour climb lay before them. And here, even with their training and preparation, high altitude and low oxygen made sure the climbers didn’t get a free pass.
But as the hikers climbed, altitude sickness—which can be fatal—began to take its toll. McCall was bitten hard, so she had to peel off. Their American guide gave her a dose of Zofran. Then they kept going.
In those hours, when Burrow continually looked back for McCall but didn’t see her, disappointment began to set in. “That was the hardest part,” Burrow said.
In the pitch dark, about three hours in at 17,000 feet, McCall saw only a small shaft of light beaming from her head lamp down on plodding footsteps. Then she felt tightness in her jaw, and her mouth began watering, nausea rising.
Up ahead, Burrow felt tunnel vision, and hiking in the dark became a comfort.
“Seeing what was in front of me might have psyched me out,” she said. “I focused on my breathing and could hear my son Ty, like a voiceover in my head, ‘You got it, Mama.’ It’s the only thing that kept driving me.”
But for McCall, the climb to the summit was beginning to unspool further.
“For a couple of hours, I didn’t have much recollection,” she said. “I was starting to not be able to see at all. I realized I’d been kind of stumbling.”
Roderick, a Tanzanian guide, stayed with McCall. Breathing came hard. The trail was steep and dark.
“I got cold sweats, and was freezing,” McCall said. She put on more layers, and they stopped.
Up ahead, Burrow had an aching realization. She remembered that the Climb For Cancer banner was in McCall’s backpack.
During the separation, McCall had that same realization as Burrow. When she remembered the banner was in her backpack, her concentration accelerated. She began focusing on breathing, praying, and one other thing: snacks.
With everything the guide Roderick did for McCall—getting her water, feeding her snacks, even carrying her backpack at one point—McCall had a humbling thought: “I felt like a toddler.”
At Stella Point on the rim of the caldera of Kilimanjaro’s dormant volcano, just 200 feet from the summit, Burrow turned around and saw McCall approaching.
“I just wanted to cry,” she said. But there was no reunion hug.
“We were too cold,” Burrow said.
The last few feet of the climb were the toughest for Burrow: “I was dizzy, nauseous, exhausted. And then Meagan passed me.”
At 7:33 a.m., finally standing together on the summit of Kilimanjaro, McCall and Burrow unfurled the Climb for Cancer banner and hoisted it for a triumphant photo.
After 10 minutes on the summit, it was time to begin the descent. Another 10- or 11-hour hike still lay ahead to return to Millennium Camp, where the exhausted but jubilant climbers were greeted by dozens of Tanzanian porters dancing and singing, in Swahili tradition, for nearly 15 minutes, celebrating their accomplishment.
Jamie Burrow and Meagan McCall became the 98th and 99th climbers to join the ranks of Climb for Cancer. They have so far raised more than $12,000 for their climb.
Ron Farb has long believed in the power of these climbs and how they culminate not only in a monetary reward but how the effort reflects the obstacles facing the patients who benefit.
“These kids climb an equivalent of Mt. Everest every day of their lives,” he said.