what I learned from climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro
At what very well might have been the greatest journal spot on planet earth, I sat quietly holding my pen in one hand and a cup of green tea in the other. Clouds of steam swirled right out of the cup and joined forces with the fog rolling towards the summit in the distance…
I savored each moment of our fifteen minute break during Day 4 of our ascent up the largest free standing mountain in the world. With a light head acknowledging the altitude levels we had peaked into, I sipped in a deep breath and turned my dazed disposition towards my mini pocket journal sitting on my lap. Resting against the volcanic rocks, I closed my eyes. The thick sound of silence filled the thin air and an overwhelming sense of gratitude filled my heart. “I feel at home.” I began to scribble on a fresh page. “I’m utterly blessed to experience so much of our world’s natural beauty. In these full moments, I remember what it’s all about. I owe it to myself, my peers, and my planet to continue to explore as much as possible. I will continue to devote myself to explore, connect, play, learn, implement, and share as much as humanly possible for as long as I granted permission to do so…”
Over the jam-packed 2 weeks abroad, we spent 6 days on Mt. Kilimanjaro climbing for an average of 8 hours each day which took us from just above seal level to a whopping 19,341 ft. summit reaching the tallest point in the entire African continent. We continued on to Rwanda to explore the city of Kigali and then into Uganda to trek in the jungle, tracking a pack of wild mountain gorillas.
For me, this trip proved to be yet another challenge. An expedition to experience. An adventure to humbly learn from. A way to go and grow. A glimpse at more of our mesmerizing planet. A chance to live life by experiences, to build my life resume, sharpen tools that I’ve been learning, and add a few new ones to the belt. An opportunity to share new memories with people I love, make new connections with people I won’t forget, broaden my perspectives and enhance my way of thinking. To add to my frame of reference for how I perceive life itself.
My aim through this reflection is to illuminate personal encounters and pull on a few threads to take it a level deeper. What can we learn from an extreme experience like this? What can climbing a mountain inform us about living day to day life? How can we ground the takeaways and make them practical? What’s the point of it all?
So let’s get to it. You know the drill. Here are the most profound takeaways, perspective shifts, and breakthroughs that I experienced from my adventures in East Africa and through the ongoing process of integrating into my daily life.
Let’s fly.
A mountain eagle at sunrise over a bed of clouds.
**NOTE: This reflection takes about 15 minutes to read fully. If you are on this page and reading this, I do not believe it is by accident. Give yourself the gift of time and space to read this fully. If there is only one thing you read – skip to the last takeaway to read about my experience on Summit Day.**
Shoutout to my crazy family for joining on this insane journey.
Shoutout to Altezza Travel, the outfitter we used to climb – tremendous guides and service that I would HIGHLY recommend.
You can check out more of my photographs HERE. And check my Instagram Story Highlight on my IG to see the photo journal of the entire trip.
To read a similar reflection on my time spent in Iceland, check it out HERE.
Shoutout to you for being here.
On the summit with Team Church! Jacob, myself, Rachel, and Rob. The rest of the team not pictured: Isaac, Jeff, David, Laura, Dave, and Elena.
[1] Know your WHY.
Each time I embark on a new adventure, I always like to set an intention for the journey. “Why?” is a question rarely posed, but reliably reaps handsome rewards when reflected upon. Why travel in the first place? What’s the point? What do you hope to gain out of it? What’s your intention? As we silently sped towards Africa in a jumbo jet some 40,000 ft above the Atlantic, I utilized part of the 36 hour door-to-door travel to take a bite and chew on this juicy prompt. Here I was – with my dad, brother Jacob, sister Rachel, cousin Rob, cousin Isaac, uncle David, friend Dave, and aunt Laura getting ready to climb one of the Seven Summits and trek into the jungles of East Africa. A funny thought in and of itself, considering most family vacations might contain a bit of a different itinerary. What had been conceived as a half-baked, shamelessly idealistic day dream over 15 months ago from an inspiration drunk conversation with Rob had now been hatched into reality. We were all traveling together, yet gearing up to climb our own mountain. Sure we were physically all on the same path towards the same same peak, but each person was conquering their own summit, overcoming their own challenges, battling their own inner-critic – and that was what united us all. My intention for this trip was to continue to challenge myself and pounce on opportunity to experience my favorite emotion of awe on a grand scale. To feel humbled by forces and powers greater than me in an undeniable way. To feel gratitude. To share what I learn with friends and family so I can bring meaning and purpose to the experience itself. It was about continuous development and becoming closer to realizing the fullness of the potential of who I already am. It wasn’t really about the view from the summit – you could in theory take a helicopter to the top if you wanted to. But according the FAA, at 20,000 feet, you have 5-12 minutes before you pass out and begin to die of hypoxia because there’s 50% less oxygen in the air at those heights than at sea level. It’s through the 6 days of climbing that your body physically transforms and adapts and changes to be able to support you and accommodate your crazy desire. This “process,” this journey, was what I was keenly setting off for. The person I would quite literally become along the way. The depths I would be forced to dig to and gems I would uncover. Physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually shedding layers of my own becoming. If only I knew exactly what that process would entail…
Takeaway:
Always start with WHY. Friedrich Nietzsche penned one of my favorite quotes when he reminded us that “He who knows his why, can bear any how.” I don’t think that enough of us know our why. Most of us have just followed the trail signs illumined since elementary school until at some point we wake up halfway up a mountain and ask ourselves, “Wait a minute, why am I climbing this mountain again? What mountain am I even on?” Or in some cases – we reach the top of a mountain were led to believe would make us happy only to realize the view isn’t what it was cracked up to be, and we really wanted to climb in a different mountain range completely. Finding your why or purpose in life isn’t some grandiose thing. You don’t need to “find yourself” – you’re not lost like the other sock from last week’s laundry. It’s not really about finding yourself as much as it’s about CREATING yourself. And how do you create yourself? In every moment. Don’t forget that you are the director, the camera man, and the main character all at the same time. It’s up to you to choose to live with purpose…start by asking yourself “Why?” and continuously ask at every turn. Have a plan. Enlist the support of guides who have climbed this type of mountain before. Go with the people who will push you when you want to turn around, give you a hug when you need, and dust the dirt off your pack when you hit the ground. Take the blindfold off. Set off with intention, climb with purpose, and when adversity inevitably trips you and you fall on your face and you face the decision to get back up, remember why you set off in the first place.
Isaac honoring a moment of reflection looking up at the top of the mountain. still 2 days away from the top – so close yet so far.
[2] It’s about incredible journeys to epic destinations.
Then, the sun hit. We finally reached the top of the infamous Barranco Wall – a rugged cliff wall towering a humble thousand feet – completing the first obstacle that Day 4 greeted us with. This was the most technical part of the climb, and subsequently the most fun. A few hundred yards after making it to the top, a gorgeous view revealed itself, sweeping panoramic vistas 360 degrees around us. We dropped our packs and settled in for a nice tea break. We had the first clear, close up shot of the summit here on Day 4, which we all were so bashfully admiring. But behind us – was one of the greatest views I’ve seen. A field of clouds that blanketed the vista as far as the eye could see. We were about 13,000 feet above sea level at this point and it felt like we had teleported to another world, sitting on a throne of ancient volcanic rocks on Olympus high above the Serengeti. Looking down at the floor of clouds, the day to day minutiae of the world and society seemed so distant. We were really out here – UP here. Being so fixated on the looming crater peak above us, I had almost forgot that we had already made it above the cloud line. I walked over to the edge of the cliff above the clouds and took a seat. While behind me, folks fixated their focus forward to the summit, I honored a moment of gratitude for just how far we had already come. While we still haven’t reached the summit yet, my two feet have indeed brought me damn far above the clouds. And that was worth a wonderful moment worthy of acknowledging. I would have been content sitting there for hours, but we did have a summit to reach – a destination that seductively called us forward with promise for further beauty, growth, and adventure whispering, “You ain’t seen nothing yet!”
Takeaway:
Climbing to the top of Mt. Kilimanjaro was the destination that called me to board my flight, but the unknown people I would meet, sights I’d see, meals I’d share, and things I’d learn was the journey that would fill in the canvas with color and paint the experience with meaning. The journey and the destination are equally just as important. Without focusing on a destination in life, there is no journey to pursue in the first place. Without focusing on the journey that life is, there’s just an endless chase of destinations that blind you from enjoying the view. Take a moment to look up and around at your life right now. Look at what you are doing. Take account of what your reality consists of and how at one point so many of the things you are now experiencing were once a dream...nothing but a far fetched thought...a desire that you would be so excited if it actually came to fruition. A deliberate vision that has actually manifested into your reality one way or another. Take a moment to be grateful and to celebrate just how far you've come on your path to your next destination. Gratitude for what you have is the bridge that will lead you to more of what you want. It’s the fuel that will propel you as you embark on your next summit.
On the top of the Barranco Wall, reflecting on just how far we’d come. Shoutout to Isaac for the intimate capture.
[3] Live for the “zoom out” moments.
The afternoon light pierced through the canopy of trees beaming down on my muddy face as I squinted up to the heavens. My feet were swollen – heavy from the 8 mile trek through the Ugandan jungle. I wedged my foot into the steep terrain, reached up for a perfectly placed vine reaching down, and with a grunt hoisted myself up. I speedily made my way to catch up with Robert, our guide who is leading the way through the Impenetrable Forest. We were tracking the Muconguzi Family – a tribe of 10 wild mountain gorillas who make up about 1% of the total global population of mountain gorillas left on earth. To get to spend an hour watching them as they feed and move through the jungle was a privilege and opportunity that I don’t take for granted. Robert effortlessly flowed through the jungle ducking branches and dodging trees like a choreographed dance in his rubber rain boots. His left hand led the way with a wooden stick while his right rested calmly on his AK-47 strapped to his hip. His Bob Marley backpack provided the perfect touch of contrast and comedic relief to his green military fatigue. I finally caught up with him separated considerably ahead of the group at this point, I got out my shovel and started to dig to uncover his story…
I learned that Robert spends most of his time in this forest, and it’s his passion and happy place. He has 4 kids and a wife, but his family lives 5 hours away and he’s only able to see them 3 days a week. The rest is spent working here in the jungle where makes a shocking $100/MONTH total to provide for them. It’s tough for him, but he mentioned that when he’s trekking through the jungle and with the gorillas, it all makes it better. I learned that the gun is to fire shots in the air to scare the gorillas if they become hostile and attack, but primarily in case we come across any wild mountain elephants that are very aggressive unlike their cousins in the savanna who are used to seeing people. When a wild animal, like the gorillas, first see a human, they are very hostile. It takes time for them to become habituated and used to seeing humans as harmless animals doing their thing. Robert took part in habituating one of the families of gorillas a few years ago. They do this so that they can keep track of them, protect them from poachers, monitor their health, and help them reproduce in effort to grow the fragile population. But for the first 12-18 months, it’s full on war. He says the gorillas attack and the humans have to fight back – when the gorillas shake the branches and pound their chests, the humans must do the same. Robert lifted his left pant leg to reveal a massive scar across his lower leg that he said was from a silverback gorilla bite. As I rapidly tried to keep up with Robert trekking ahead to continue the conversation, a wave of laughter crashed over me. In that moment I realized that the hell I was actually doing. Here I am, deep in the dense Ugandan jungle following a man named Robert with an AK-47 to go sit with a family of wild mountain gorillas. I call this a “zoom out” moment where you zoom out like a drone lifting to the sky and look at where you are on the map, your life at that particular moment, who you are with, and what you are doing…and you cannot help but just laugh with humility at the absurdity of what you are experiencing. It brings a different level of awareness and perspective in an instant that is easy to etch into memory and hard to shake. This zoom out moment was up there with one of my favorites.
Takeaway:
Chase those zoom out moments. Do the unexpected. I think this is what Abe Lincoln referenced with his famed words, “And in the end, it’s not the years in a life but the life in the years.” I want to look back at a wicked compilation of zoom out moments living fully and knowing that I did the best that I could with all that I had. On the other side of the same coin, make an effort to zoom out more. Chances are that you are right here and right now doing something pretty crazy. At the very least, you’re a human floating on a rock in space reading these squiggly lines and deriving meaning from it. There’s always something incredible happening, miracles in every moment, it’s up to you to see the wonder in it all.
“Hello, I see you you.” A wild mountain gorilla shining her mesmerizing eyes.
[4] Pole Pole.
“How close are we to camp?” Someone in our group shouted ahead to our guide Mekeke breaking the silent cadence of our 10-person single filed line. “One step closer,” he sharply replied as if he had been eagerly waiting for someone to ask. “Pole Pole” he reminded us, meaning “slowly, slowly” in Swahili – a phrase you would hear literally hundreds of times a day on the mountain. When we started at the Machame Gate on Day 1, we set off at what felt like a painfully slow pace. By Day 5 at that same pace, I could not imagine moving any faster. We go ‘pole pole’ mostly for acclimating to the altitude since your body doesn’t appreciate getting thrown into thin air very much. With less oxygen in the air, your body has to work harder to supply your muscles with what it needs to keep you stepping forward. But the body adjusts and adapts, with time. Another aphorism we often heard on the mountain was “If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.” We embodied this African Proverb completely. We were a group of 10 climbers, but we had a total of 26 porters and 4 guides helping us up the mountain. By Tanzanian law, you are required to have at least 2 porters for every person on the mountain as it stimulates a significant portion of the local economy, while also making for a seamless and luxurious camping experience for us. The porters are the real heroes. They breakdown and setup camp every day, prepare meals for us, and carry all of the equipment each day. The craziest part is they are all young, skinny guys who blow past you on the mountain in sneakers carrying double the weight in awkward shapes and sizes on their heads. Some of them have climbed the mountain hundreds of times.
Takeaway:
Pole Pole became a lesson in the art of discipline and restraint for me. I was holding back on going faster in the beginning, and grateful that I didn’t towards the end. Just because we can, doesn’t mean we should. How do we respond when we want to do something but know our future self will thank us for holding restraint? I learned to surrender and trust the path, the process, and the group at every twist and turn, at every false peak, and every day when we couldn’t see the summit. Watching the porters navigate their way was a constant reminder of humility. Hanging with them at camp and chatting in broken English was surely a highlight for me on the mountain. I don’t know much, but I know that music, movement, eye contact, and laughter transcend any language or cultural barrier. It truly does take a village. Slowly slowly, one step at a time, with a team behind you, trusting the path, we can reach heights in life that we never thought were possible.
The line of humans! Notice how you can see the porters to the left breezing ahead with big bags on their head. Pole Pole…
[5] Sometimes, you just need to laugh it off.
Throughout the hours climbing each day, the group ebbed and flowed between long periods of walking in silent reflection and rambunctious conversation. Brain teasers and riddles were plentiful, so was story time. The full stories too, none of this “long story short” nonsense, rather we enjoyed listening to and sharing every short story long. That is one of the best parts about hiking or mountain climbing – the conversation. Your brain is just distracted enough to be in a nice flow state that allows you to open up lose yourself in conversation with a friend. The silent hiking though – that is also one of the best parts about hiking or mountain climbing. Getting into that internal flow state and losing yourself in yourself. Making each step a deliberate note in the symphony of the moving meditation you are conducting. During our time on Kilimanjaro, sometimes all you wanted was to engage in conversation with the person in front or behind you, and sometimes you just wanted everybody to shut-up. Midway through Day 2 we exited the jungle with one step and entered the rocky desert plain with the next, slowly ticking our way up in elevation. I found myself in a battle fighting off my first headache and tiredness after a stop-and-go first night of sleep on the mountain. We were about 3 hours away from camp still, and as the pendulum swung to the side of conversation for me, I luckily found myself sandwiched in between my brother Jacob and my cousin Isaac. Here comes trouble. With my dad in heavy silent mode walking just ahead of us, the three stooges got on a roll of quoting movie lines. I’m talking The Other Guys. Step Brothers. Dumb and Dumber. And pretty much every other movie that my mom insists is killing our brain cells every time she sees us rewatching it for the nth time. We belly laughed our way up the next section of the mountain with ease. My face hurt from smiling probably to the same degree that my dad’s brain was hurting trying to rationalize his return on investment from years of private school education for his kids. Before I knew it, we were arriving to camp, and my headache was gone.
Takeaway:
Laughter is the greatest pill you can take. Physiologically it’s actually really good for you. Most of us just breathe with our chest, filling the top third of our lungs with air each time. When you laugh, you are cycling the stale air that hangs out at the bottom of your lungs. Recirculating that improves oxygen intake and blood flow and can really help you ESPECIALLY at altitude. Not to mention the rush of endorphins that flood your system in the most natural way known to humans. So let’s all make a point to laugh more. On another note, I was reminded that there’s a time for internal focus, and external focus. We often don’t allow ourselves the space to be alone with no distractions. Most of the time, we take out our digital pacifier (our phone) and are midway through an Instagram scroll before we even realize what we are doing. Good things happen when you give yourself the space to be alone with no distractions, give it a shot.
This is Bildad – one of the porters that I got close with throughout the climb. His smile and laugh were contagious, and I was fortunate enough to capture this image of him at one of our camps during a chill sesh.
[6] Growth is painful – SUMMIT DAY.
In what appeared to be slow motion, Jacob lifted the bowl of soup to his face buried deep in his down parka hood and slurped down the last of what was our final meal before Summit Day. Rob silently sat in the corner of the mess hall tent, prepping his clothes for tomorrow. Five layers on top, three on the bottom. Rain proof outer shells. Balaclavas to cover our faces. Thick ski gloves over thin inner gloves. Rachel fumbled with putting a fresh pair of batteries in her headlamp, her hands toasty already in the double gloves. Isaac cranked the volume on his phone-in-a-cup speaker blasting the ever appropriate ‘Lose Yourself’ by Eminem in the background. What had started as a tune of irony providing some comedic relief to the tense air soon became a much welcomed soundtrack of focus and motivation for the group. The energy was different tonight. It was quiet, everyone was a bit more focused and getting locked in on our goal of why we came here. At 9pm, after a solid nine hour day of climbing to reach high camp above 15,100 feet, we were rapidly approaching game time. A year ago, we stood at the tallest point in the continental US atop Mt. Whitney 14,505 feet above sea level and could only stay a few minutes because of how lightheaded we were from the altitude. I laughed thinking of the absurdity how we were already well past that point here gearing up to make our push to 19,341 ft. After our guides Stanford, Mekeke, and Joshua ran us through a briefing for the long awaited day ahead and did a final round of medical checks, we were sent off to our tents for a few hours with an 11:30pm wakeup rapidly approaching. I was one of the lucky few who was able to get some sleep in before the wakeup call arrived in a hurry. After some hot tea, a final equipment check, and a “hoorah,” we followed the line of headlights ascending to the stars and were off. I looked at my watch which read 12:13 am. With an estimated 8:00am summit, I took a deep breathe and locked in for the long haul. Our first goal was to reach Stella Point – the spot where the steep sloping switch backs end and all that remains after that is the relatively gentle slope that climbs about 800 ft. to the final destination of Uhuru Peak. Reaching Stella Point is a feat in and of itself and would entitle us a Green Certificate. Reaching Uhuru Peak meant a Gold Certificate and the tallest point in Africa. Once at Stella Point, the walk on the edge of the crater rim from to Uhuru peak had the reputation of leaving several hikers behind due to high altitude, exhaustion and the occasional blizzard.
With what seemed like worlds away from Stella point, I was greeted at 1:30am with a blinding headache and rocking nausea that tagged along with it. I started feeling some serious affects of the altitude already. When we made short stops along the switchbacks in the dark, I had to try to force food and water down to keep my body fueled. We were moving very slowly, but with each step up, the air became thinner and my symptoms became worse. I felt lethargic, hazy, out of it, and stumbled as if I had just drank a 6-pack. Each foot forward was accompanied by heavily labored breathing in an attempt to catch my breathe which had run away from me long ago. Every time we sat for a quick break, I would fall asleep and the summit somehow seemed further and further away. I looked back at my watch. 2:30am. At the next water break, I hit my breaking point. I leaned over on a rock and and lost it. Tears uncontrollably began flowing. I was incredibly uncomfortable, in a great deal of physical pain, and still hours away from the sun rise let alone the summit. I seemed to be at whits end, and more than anything else, I was worried that I would be potentially harming my body by continuing several thousand feet higher with risks of hypoxia and severe altitude sickness becoming more real each minute. While I was being pushed passed my boundaries and challenged in a way I quite honestly wasn’t expecting, my little sister was perfectly fine, in great condition, moving swiftly ahead of me. A meek reminder that everyone is climbing their own mountain. My Uncle David was struggling in a similar place to me, and came over and gave me a hug. We held each other crying for what felt like an hour, and during this vulnerable moment, I experienced what felt like a switch flipping on a backup generator recharging me from within. I knew in that moment that we were both going to be alright and we would reach the summit. I snapped back into my perspective and remembered WHY I was here in the first place. This was EXACTLY what I asked for and found tremendous strength from that truth. I got back on my feet and with a renewed determination we started moving forward. I continued to find strength from all around me. I found strength from my family on the mountain beside me going through their own internal struggles. I found strength from the songs that the guides sang to fill the sterile air. I found strength from our guide Mekeke reminding us that “pain is temporary, quitting is permanent.” I found strength remembering how this was indeed temporary, and I would be in my bed tonight. I found strength in my body that continued to support me moving forward in the face of incredible challenge. I found strength from the mountain holding me and it’s wisdom and patience in age surrounding me. I found strength from one of our porters, Jefferson, who closely accompanied me up the mountain for sticking right by my side every step of the way.
In what felt like coming back to from a blackout, I saw light flirting with the edge of the horizon as the sleepy sun began to stretch and rise. I looked down at my watch and was in disbelief to see that it was already 5:38 am. I even checked with my brother to make sure the time was right because I couldn’t have imagined that nearly 3 hours had passed since I was doubled over in pain and tears. The sun lovingly slapped my face sending a rush of warmth through my body as we rapidly approached Stella Point. Once at Stella Point, the summit sign provocatively revealed itself in the distance. The home stretch. The walk itself wouldn’t take more than 30 minutes at lower altitude, but at around 19,000 feet it is a totally different experience – one that takes about an hour and a half. With the final destination within an eye shot, Isaac, Jacob and I kicked into a different gear burning our reserves and sped ahead. Glaciers towered to our left gatekeeping the drop into the abyss and a steep drop into the volcanic crater to the right kept us centered on the path ahead. As I approached the last 20 feet and the famed sign became legible, a wave of emotion crashed over me and I began to cry. This time it was tears of joy, relief, accomplishment, and pride that paved the way for a beatific smile. We snapped some photos, waited for the rest of our family to join us, celebrated with hugs, and then swiftly began our descent. Our day was long from over with an overwhelming 6 hours of hiking ahead of us to get back to high camp and then to a lower elevation camp where we’d spend the night, but it didn’t matter – we had made it.
Takeaway:
“Fulfillment comes from exercising the fullness of your physical, emotional, and mental capabilities. Feeling stagnant in life is simply a result of not voluntarily challenging yourself enough to do so.” These were the few words I scribbled on the summit, and the only entry I made in my journal the entire day. Voluntarily challenging yourself requires you to exercise your physical, emotional, and mental bodies. And at the end of a full day of doing that, there is always a resounding and undeniable sense of fulfillment that comes form it. You can rest easy when your head hits the pillow. Too many of us get caught in the wakeup-work-gym-food-netflix-sleep repeat cycle living for the momentary binge of relief that the weekend brings. Over time this leaves us starving for fulfillment feeling like something is missing. The more life experience I gain through adventures and age, the more one resounding truth rings home for me: the beautiful, worthwhile things in life come from pushing the boundaries of your comfort zone and delaying instant gratification. It’s what builds character, strength, and in my opinion directly leads to “success” in life. How long can you delay instant gratification for a greater purpose or goal? When all signs point to stopping and you feel like quitting because you aren’t there yet, how much deeper can you dig? What’s your why and how can closely can you hold it? How comfortable can you truly learn to feel in an uncomfortable environment? How do you stay cool under pressure and calm under stress? Who is on your team to give you that will hug you need when you hit a wall and pull you up the mountain when you need it the most? Through exercising this muscle challenging ourselves in our every day lives, I am certain that we all can create and cultivate fulfillment in life. Because life becomes easy when you are willing to do the hard things. With every ‘mountain’ I climb, it always sounds great on paper until that growth slaps you silly across the face. Growth is a painful process. Anyone who lifts weights knows this all too well. How is muscle built? By micro-tears of your muscle fiber. There is always a burning “breakthrough” point where you want to quit, and it’s precisely at that point where the growth is beginning to happen. The good news is that it’s always temporary. This too shall pass. The intensity of the experience transforms to fulfillment as quickly as the cloudy weather patterns on the mountain make way for the shining rays of sunlight. This is the growth zone where the real stuff happens. Enjoy it.
The first clear view of the summit on Day 4. Peaking through the magnetic clouds, this is probably my favorite photo I captured.