Frequently Asked Questions

Periodically I have the opportunity to speak to diverse groups of people and tell them of my experiences in outdoor environments in various parts of the world. These treks, described in the "My Stories" section of this website, typically involved extended periods of time in remote areas, sometimes in close contact with very different cultures. The reactions of the people who listen are fascinating because, since I am a neophyte, they are able to identify more closely with my experiences than they would if I had spent a lifetime building up to these trips. Here are some of the questions people ask me.

Please email me your own questions.

Q. What is the most significant place you have been?

A. NangPa La, the mountain pass which divides Tibet and Nepal. Merchants and smugglers, as well as travelers have used this ancient trade route for centuries. From the expedition camp, I watched small bands of Tibetans attempting to escape the Chinese rule via the pass. One May afternoon in 1997, an outdoor neophyte stood at the top of the pass, approximately 19,000 feet altitude, with one foot in Nepal and one foot in Tibet. For me, it was the culmination of all those armchair journeys I had made as a child…only this time, the sherpas and the Himalayas were real.

Q. What was your scariest moment?

A. In the last five years, since I bought my first pair of hiking boots, there have been so many scary moments; it's hard to say which ranks highest. When you put yourself into a setting, which is so far out of your comfort zone and experience, every creak in the night and slip along the way becomes an adrenaline rush. However, the single worst moment was probably in a boxed canyon at the base of Chillingi Pass which separates the Pamir and Karakoram Mountain Ranges in Pakistan. Fazil Karim, the heroic guide for each of my two treks into northern Pakistan came over to my tent after dusk. His voice sounded jazzed. "I have something great to show you." Unzipping the tent flap, he pointed excitedly to the mountain we would be climbing the next morning. "Look! The porters are carrying a load up Chillingi in preparation for tomorrow." I could see tiny pinpricks of light which were lanterns carried by the porters who were about one third of the way up the mountain. After trekking for over two weeks, the enormous scale of the mountains becomes somehow familiar. Seeing the porters as fixed pinpoints of light against the awesome task ahead of us, immediately terrified me. "I need you to get a helicopter and get me out of here, Fazil!" "Elizo, you know I can not do that…" There was no sleeping that night either for me or for Fazil Karim. Long before dawn, the wake-up call came, served with bed tea. It never ceases to amaze me that by putting one foot in front of another, we can actually get to the top of a mountain like Chillingi Pass. That day consisted of 14 ½ hours of hard work before we set up the next camp. The last portion of the mountain was so steep that ropes were used to pull both men and animals up to the top. Using his bull-like strength, Fazil Karim pulled me to the summit, I was not about to complain, as far as I was concerned, it was all downhill from there.

Q. Did you ever want to say, "That's it! I'm going back and getting a hotel?" If so, what made you keep going?

A. Only about fifty times each trek! Hotels get farther and farther away every day of a trek…going back becomes less and less of an option. Then the halfway point arrives and you may as well go forward and finish. In the past five years, the places I've been don't have escape routes. Being rescued usually consists of being strapped onto the back of a yak or another pack animal and carried out for days. With the exception of Africa, I have been lucky to have had exceptional guides. A good guide can keep even the greenest of greenhorns moving forward. In Bhutan, this past year, Kinley the Bhutanese guide kept saying (sometimes under his breath) "Keep them moving forward, Keep them moving forward." It became a joke, but an inspired guide like a great teacher, makes all the difference. Curiosity, pride and the blessing of being a good sleeper have managed to regenerate my energy and commitment each day. While I've been plenty sick on treks, I've never had an injury.

Q. What has surprised you the most being in these remote areas?

A. The gentleness and kindness of the people living in such harsh and demanding environments. Also, the amount of dignity the people accord to even the most menial job. Everyone is part of the village, and it takes the entire village working together to survive. It is one thing to see pictures of faces in National Geographic, but it is another to be welcomed into their homes and sit among the people…to actually feel their lifestyle.

Q. When you are trekking, what do you miss most from your "civilized" life?

A. I have a friend who is retired from the Diplomatic Corps. She defines "civilized." Until I met her, I never knew anyone really wore driving gloves to drive a car…she does. We laugh when we discuss where we are headed and it is clear we could never travel together. I don't miss anything from my "civilized" life. Everything is so different trekking at high elevation in remote areas, that if a person started missing things, they would probably miss out on the experience of where and who and what they might be seeing. The focus shifts dramatically depending upon how invested you become in experiencing another place and culture. One of the things I do look forward to, however, at the end of every trek is the possibility of a good yak-burger! There're the best.

Q. Where are you going next and why?

A. I have a two-year plan starting in September 2001. The first part is to cross Turkey, climb Mount Nemrut and part of Mount Ararat. Turkey is the cradle of civilization, with incredible landscapes and remote villages. In 2002, the plan continues from the western edge of Turkey along the Silk Road across the "Stans" of the former USSR to Vladivostok on the Sea of Japan. 2002 will combine travel using jeeps, boats, camels, the trans-Siberian railroad as well as trekking on foot. The reason revolves around the nagging sense that both China and Russia are actively seeking to settle the nomads into established communities. The end of an era is fast approaching; I want to visit and photograph the nomads while they still retain their unique lifestyle.