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Michael Hollis

Team Hunt

By 29029 Everesting

March 8^th, 2024

Hunt is my son, and we call him a life-mountain-climber. Whether it’s clinically, behaviorally, or physically, he’s had an uphill battle his entire life.

After a lengthy, challenging journey to understand his developmental issues as a newborn, Hunt was eventually diagnosed with mitochondrial disease, a chronic, genetic disorder that causes growth problems, low muscle tone, and developmental delays.

That started my wife, Ellen, and I down a road of how we could give Hunt the best life possible. His disease is something that will always be with him, so all we can do as parents is support him through his therapies, and make sure we are happy and healthy along the way.

We started Team Hunt to raise money by running in races for those who can’t. Throughout training and the events themselves, we often find ourselves leaning on Hunt for inspiration.

If he can continue to persevere through his challenges, then I can run one more mile, swim one more lap, or bike up another hill…

In those miles and miles of training and racing, we realized something else - nature is the best therapy.

How could we help Hunt experience that?

It started a new ethos for us: Adventure was therapy, and we wanted Hunt to get the chance to take part.

We started camping, overlanding, hiking, canoeing, and exploring with Hunt by our side to expose him to the healing powers of nature.

Since those summers of adventure began, Hunt has shown tremendous improvements in social skills, appetite, physical strength, creativity, and attitude.

Adventure is good for the soul.

I learned about 29029 independently from two different friends who had both done it.

They talked about the event with such an intense passion, and having done my share of half-marathons, trail runs, and half-Ironmans, I was curious.

It sounds funny to say, but one of the things that appealed to me most was how the mountain would give me an excuse to spend 36 hours on the slopes - in nature - without anything to think about except climbing up.

With Ellen's support, I decided to register for Sun Valley.

It was a chance for me to do an event that would test me, a chance to spend time in nature, and most importantly, a chance to set an example for Hunt: we can conquer big mountains, and we can do hard things.

I felt prepared at the start in Sun Valley. Of course, I knew it wasn’t going to be a cakewalk, but I wanted that difficulty so I could show Hunt that it was possible to overcome.

Ironically, accepting that it would be hard almost made it easier.

The first few hours flew by! Between the breathtaking Idaho scenery and the deep conversations I was able to have with fellow participants, it was easy to keep my momentum in climbing toward the summit.

Late in the first day, mountain thunderstorms rolled in, forcing a gondola closure. It was the first chip away at the momentum I had built.

At first, I felt disappointed and nervous around the time I was losing, but that quickly faded. Give somebody a chair during a forced break in the middle of 36 hours of climbing, and you can bet they’ll be able to nap, which is exactly what I did!

The rain stopped, the mountain re-opened, and I continued climbing into the night.

Around midnight, I wrapped up my 10th ascent and decided to head to bed to try for some sleep.

I was unsuccessful, and after about 2 hours of restless tossing and turning, I decided to get up.

Sleep’s not happening, so I may as well keep climbing…

It could have been a lowlight - not being able to sleep, not being rested - but instead it turned into a highlight. There’s something about the mountain at night that’s special.

The stars were amazing, and headlamps cut through the darkness - a symbol of everybody doing the work on the slopes, even in the middle of the night and early hours before sunrise.

Around my 13th or 14th lap, I was just juiced… we were deep into things, but it wasn’t quite the last lap. I was exhausted, and the finish line felt like it would never arrive.

And that’s when I saw it, looming ahead once again: The Wall.

It was a bottleneck - one long tired conga line very slowly trying to pick their way up the infamously steep and loose terrain.

I was not even 50 yards from the top, and I just wanted to be finished. I wanted to sit down and rest.

I need this lap to be done…

That was my darkest moment on the mountain - I wasn’t quite dejected, but I was getting close.

At the summit, I saw Hunt and Ellen.

That turned everything around for me.

It was motivating to me that I had the chance to see Hunt every second lap or so. It kept me going when things got tough.

But it wasn’t just good for me - it was good for Hunt too.

The people on the mountain are diverse - different cultures, different sizes, different ages, different athletic abilities - all working towards the same thing. It was great for Hunt to see that because 29029 showcases that there is no ‘certain’ type of person who can tackle such a monumental goal.

Ellen and I have both done a lot of events, usually with Hunt there to experience it on the sidelines, and I can confidently say that no event comes close to touching 29029 when it comes to the ability for family, friends, and supporters to not only engage with their person, but also the entire event community.

Hunt was engaged and witnessing amazing accomplishments up close and personal in Sun Valley.

My final ascent was unlike anything I can put words to. It was all a blur, right up until I walked the Red Carpet and grabbed my Red Hat.

There was a lot that motivated me on the slopes over those 15 climbs; the ability to test myself, the Red Hat, and the feeling of accomplishment that I knew would come at the finish.

But nothing motivated me more than knowing the conversation I could have with Hunt at the finish line.

I remember finding Hunt amidst the crazy cheering crowds at the summit, leaning down to have a short conversation with him.

“I did this, and you can do this too. Nothing is preventing you from doing what you need to do in life," I told him.

29029 - not just the event, but the training too - was a metaphor for Hunt’s life.

He saw how hard I had been training for it - we went on hikes together, and he saw me turning the incline on my treadmill up to the maximum often - and it all sunk in when we got to the mountain.

“You’re going up that, Dad?” he asked me.

Life is hard.

29029 is hard.

It’s a good example of life - you’ve just got to keep climbing. It might get cold, it might get rainy - there will be times you don’t want to keep going, but you have to.

I did 29029 to set an example for Hunt, but I left the slopes with more than just that example to show for it.

I left with a belief I could do more.

I hope 29029 is a stepping stone for me to do more ultra-endurance events.

I love being outside, I love being on the trail, and I love testing myself…

And I love setting an example for Hunt.

That’s why I signed up for 29029 Trail in 2024: I want to show Hunt that even when life throws a few mountains in a row at you, you can still conquer them.