TAKINGFOREVEREST
I’m not a pro athlete, a sponsored climber, or someone who grew up in the mountains. I’m an ordinary 9-to-5er with a family, a mortgage, and a few dogs, trying to see just how far an “average joe” can go.
I obsess over training data, but a hike up Brushy Mountain reminded me that confidence can’t always be quantified. The mountain measures progress differently.
When I first followed Everest No Filter in 2017, I never imagined I’d one day meet the man who sparked my dream of climbing Everest. This year, as I finally take my first real steps toward that goal, Cory Richards came to Ohio, and our paths crossed in a way that felt like fate. His words, his story, and three simple words have been echoing in my head ever since.
Everyone asks me, “When are you climbing Everest?” The truth? It’s going to take years, and that’s on purpose. I could pay a company to send me tomorrow, but rushing would be unsafe for me and the people around me. Instead, I’m taking the long road. It’s a journey to become the climber who’s ready when the time is right.
Why Everest? Because it’s more than a mountain to me. It’s a calling I’ve felt since 2016, when a quiet dream first took root. After summiting Kilimanjaro in 2025, that dream roared back to life. This isn’t about bragging rights or bucket lists—it’s about transformation. Slow, steady, Pole Pole… one step at a time.
Climbing Kilimanjaro taught me that some clichés are true for a reason. Here’s how four well-worn sayings came to life on Africa’s tallest peak—and how they can apply to everyday life.
TakingForEverest started as a joke about how long it would take me to reach the summit of the world. But over time, it became a philosophy: a reminder that it’s about slowly, steadily becoming the person who’s ready for it.
Forget summit photos—the real untold story of Kilimanjaro is what happens when nature calls at 15,000 feet. Here’s the raw truth about toilets, pee funnels, and why I’ll never look at cilantro soup the same way again.
Kilimanjaro was more than a mountain. It was a journey of grit, heartbreak, and transformation. Here’s what I learned about slowing down, celebrating the small wins, and finding joy in the climb, not just the peak.
Midnight starts, frozen bladders, bloody noses, tears, and finally the highest point in Africa—summit day on Kilimanjaro was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
Snow, fog, and endless rock scrambles marked the climb to high camp. By the time we reached Kosovo, nerves set in—summit night was almost here.
