Trekking for Impact: Join ZERO at Everest Base Camp

Everest Peaks Challenge

In the summer of 2006, I went on an extended trip through South America – including Peru. We hit all the highlights: Lima, Lake Titicaca, and, of course, Machu Picchu. It was an unforgettable trip, from playing card games with elementary schoolers while waiting for a train, to staring in awe at Inca construction. While I loved everything about that part of the world, I assumed I would never make it back – it was a once in a lifetime experience. 

Fast forward to this spring and ZERO’s fundraising team put out a call for a staff volunteer to join the ZERO Peaks Challenge – Machu Picchu. I raised my hand so quickly I nearly wrenched my shoulder. In truth, I didn’t ask too many questions or thoroughly review the itinerary before purchasing a plane ticket. I was dying to go, and, after all, I’m generally pretty fit. I wouldn’t be carrying a backpack with a bouncing toddler, and buses take you up to the historic site itself – how hard could it be?

If I had studied the itinerary, I might have taken the prospect of spending 6 days sleeping above 15,000 feet and hiking three to eight miles each day as high as 17,000 feet a little more seriously. Despite the name, it wasn’t just Machu Picchu – Machu Picchu was the reward after almost a week of trekking in the Ausangate Range. A trek with nights below freezing, days of climbing straight uphill in whipping winds, rugged beauty, and unique wildlife. It was NOT a casual jaunt to one of the new seven wonders of the world and I definitely could have done more to prepare physically. 

But no amount of training could have prepared me for the emotional experience of doing this hard and unexpectedly intimate activity with a group of near strangers. Joe, Matt, Cynthia, Lori, Walt, Leo, Brandy, Carrie, Deanna, and I spent a few days in Cusco acclimatizing to the elevation and casually spending some time together, and then we plunged into the Ausangate Range with Claudio, our guide. It only took us about 24 hours to realize just how big an endeavor we had undertaken – and maybe to start regretting our choices. 

The first afternoon, we arrived at the trailhead and our campsite in the late afternoon, but decided to make the short hike to Rainbow Mountain, or Vinicunca, right away, knowing that it attracted large crowds in the mornings. It started simply enough – cold, but manageable, with a little bit of slush and slippery spots. By the time we reached the top, it was starting to snow and moving quickly towards darkness. The hike back to camp was rough. The footing was only a little bit worse, but something about the darkness and the snow felt like a cold slap from reality. The llamas might be carrying most of our stuff, but that didn’t make it easy.

We began the first full day with enthusiasm, with half of us choosing the “hard option” to add a hike up the ridge overlooking the Red Valley and all of us coming together after the first hour or so to really start the trek. By the end of the day, we’d lost one member of our familia to a badly sprained ankle, discovered that uphill hikes in Peru don’t really have switchbacks, they just go straight up, and learned that altitude sickness can include debilitating nausea. At dinner (always a highlight thanks to our talented crew), Claudio suggested that perhaps a couple of the team members suffering the most from the altitude could take a short cut the next day, because it was going to be a hard one. To his surprise, almost every person raised their hand for the short cut. As much as everyone had prepared for this trip, by the end of the first day, I don’t know that anyone believed they’d make it to the end. 

We were wrong, of course. What came next wasn’t necessarily easier, but it was a testament to the power of community. Our little familia stood by each other in ways large and small. A joke at the right moment. A hand lifting your bag. Extra snacks. The wild enthusiasm of a former fifth grade teacher. We were with one another in moments of pain, of triumph, of severe intestinal discomfort, and of hysterical laughter. 

By the time we reached Machu Picchu, the trip had stopped being about hiking. So far, our Peru Peaks familia has raised almost $150,000 to support the work my team and others at ZERO do every day. It will help millions of men have access to free prostate cancer screening through policy change in states across the country. It will provide patient navigation services to people facing a prostate cancer diagnosis and struggling with their next step. It will support outreach into communities at high risk, giving men the information they need to catch their prostate cancer as early as possible. The ZERO Peaks Challenge didn’t just change us as individuals, it’s making change for men across America, helping them to live longer, better lives. 

To my Peru familia, tupananchiskama. 

Ali Manson
Vice President, Government Relations & Advocacy
ZERO Prostate Cancer

 

Ready to Make an Impact?

The ZERO Peaks Challenge brings our community together to save lives and expand vital support for men and families impacted by prostate cancer. Whether you are an experienced trekker or taking on your first high-altitude adventure, there is a place for you on the trail. Learn more about getting involved by visiting ZEROcancer.org/peaks.

Our next major adventure takes us to Everest Base Camp from April 15–May 1, 2027, and spots are still open. When you join the team, every step you take helps provide lifesaving screening, care coordination, financial navigation, and community connections.

Want to learn more about the Everest Base Camp trek? Join us for an online information session on Nov. 4, 2026.

 Register for the info session here

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