I arrived home a few days ago but as I sit here drinking my Zen tea, my mind wanders back to the excitement of the climb.

I arrived in Mendoza, after spending a great week in Buenos Aires, to find that I would be the only female climber in our group of 10 plus two or three male guides. Not a bad intro to 2000! Most of you reading this probably can't understand why I would ever attempt to climb mountains, but if you ever consider it - go for it!

We spent two days climbing to base camp (if you rent the movie Seven Years in Tibet, with Brad Pitt, you will see exactly where camp was, as it was filmed in Argentina) which was at 4300 meters or 14,000 feet. As you walk along the beach, which must be the longest brown beach in the world, you can see Aconcagua off in the distance. It doesn't really look that far away.

Upon reaching base camp you certainly realize that you are not the only loco person on the mountain, as it is full of tents and prospective summitters. Here, is where I experienced some of the symptoms of altitude sickness, in the form of headaches, loss of appetite, and just generally feeling like crap. (I had to pass on the chicken that night.) However, lots of water, a good sleep and the after dinner mints (aspirin) did wonders.

The next day was a rest day and I couldn't figure out why the Americans were so keen to start climbing. My biggest adventure that day was walking 500 meters to the shower, and after four attempts (they don't open anything too early at base camp), I was pretty well exhausted. I paid my $10 US and enjoyed every moment of it. Hint: the shower is only supposed to be five minutes long, but if you can manage to spurt out a few kind words of Spanish, and smile, the water keeps flowing!

I think this was one of the best days as we spent the afternoon doing some simulated ice climbing through the Penitentes. Luckily, these skills were not required higher up, but it was great fun to practice.

Next came our carry day. We set out with food in our packs and carried it up to Camp 1 (Camp Canada) and on to Camp 2 (Nido). You must wonder what one thinks when they are climbing - anything, everything and a lot of nothing. Luckily, we had Dave on our trip who had a fancy altimeter watch that he would set to go off at any desired altitude, to let us know our progress. Kind of like the walk breaks for you marathoners out there.

The big "Canadian Tumble Down the Mountain" came on this fine day. I was warned by many people before I left, not to fall off the mountain, and I didn't - I just fell down it. It was all fun and games as I was skidding down the mountain picking up speed (thinking I was on my skis) until the next thing I knew I was rolling and no longer smiling.

The result of this 9/10 fall (American judges) was a strained calf, strained hamstring and possibly a small tear in the cartilage of my left knee, not to mention a bruised ego. I don't know if anyone ever knew because I had my own tent at base camp, but that night I was up every hour massaging and exercising my leg, determined to be ready to climb in two days. Being a physio, the next day I had my bungee cord hooked around a rock and was exercising my rest day away.

We progressed up to Camp 1, where we spent the night and then moved onto Camp 2. Unfortunately, Camp 2 brought misfortune to the mountain as three of our group had to descend and a fellow climber (whom luckily I didn't see) died of a heart attack and was carried down. If my statistics are correct, this made seven deaths on Aconcagua in 26 days of the year 2000. The reality of climbing started to sink in, as the number of our tents decreased. Luckily, I still did not have to carry a tent, thanks to Pablo.

It was time to go to Camp 3 (Berlin), another two or three hours up the mountain. I had my routine down pat by this time. I would climb to the next camp, help put up the tent (I was sleeping with the guides) and then have my afternoon nap until I was woken up with hot tea followed by dinner. Not a bad life at 19,540 feet!

Summit day...Sebastian started out at 4:30 am with one of our climbers and after being accustomed to 10 hours of sleep per night, I needed those extra couple of hours. We (now a total of eight as Sebastian had returned) began our climb around 6:30 am in negative 18 degree temperatures. It is hard to describe what I experienced on summit day, but I can truly say that it becomes more mental than physical at this point.

After five hours of climbing the group had decreased to five clients plus a guide; we'd hit the famous Canaleta, which is a 400 meter (1300 foot) chute filled with disagreeably loose rocks (taken from Secor's climbing guide). It was a lot more than disagreeable - it was sheer hell! Every step resulted in either a slide backward or a fall. In my case, it was more often a fall. I can say that I was glad to be able to see the summit nearby, because those last few hundred meters took several hours.

The rest I cannot describe. There you sit, on top of the world, or at least on top of the Western Hemisphere, and no matter what you went through or what was to come on the way down, it was all worth it! I think Jerry, Jean Paul, Carlos, Ale and Sebastian would all agree.

I won't say much about the way down because I hated it, and I quit keeping track of my falls after 25 or so. My Gore-tex pants will forever retain my memories as they sustained some significant tears. It wasn't until I got back to Santiago that the bruises on my arms and legs and black toenails revealed themselves.

At base camp the next night we celebrated with champagne, which was very much appreciated after 10 alcohol-free days. I still don't know if it was the alcohol or just bad luck, but the next day on our final descent, Pablo, fell and broke his ankle. I was getting used to being on holiday and I had managed to avoid my fellow climbers hints for massages, but I couldn't avoid helping with this injury.

We gathered what taping supplies we had, and on the side of the path, with the occasional mule coming by, I taped Pablo's ankle so that it remained stabilized until he returned to Mendoza, a couple of days later. He later told me that his doctor eventually told him, that the ankle had remained stable enough to avoid surgery.

When it was over, we all went our separate ways. I know that each person takes with him the memories of the mountain that will last forever. Thanks to my fellow climbers for making it happen.

"All men dream: but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity: But the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dreams with open eyes, to make it possible." T.E. Lawrence, The Seven Pillars of Wisdom, and it was possible!

—Sandra Fielding, Living the Life with MountainZone.com