We are so proud to share the story of Jen Willis — an extraordinary woman in our Wild Women community and Coastrek ambassador, who is chasing a childhood dream up the world’s highest mountain, all while living with MS.
For anyone in our community who hasn’t followed your journey yet — who is Jen Willis, and what is the quest you’re on?
Jen Willis is a 54-year-old Aussie woman who lives with MS. Since she was a little girl, Jen carried a romantic dream to one day climb big snowy mountains. She was never the natural athlete (think: smart little girl who was bullied and always picked last for a team in PE). Trying to defy her intellect, Jen dropped out of high school to run with a rebellious crowd, but after realising social acceptance through rebellion against institutions didn’t suit her, she returned to school and completed a technical Year 12 with a focus on outdoor education. Completely out of her comfort zone for much of the year, she finished her secondary schooling and then took a job as an outdoor education assistant at a school. It was here she began to find a sense of confidence in the outdoors. Taking skills still new to her and teaching them to other young people, she quickly found herself developing a level of proficiency that would surprise her high school peers — and even herself. Jen went on to become an outdoor education teacher, a head of programs and experiential learning centres, and eventually a school principal in alternative learning settings.
In 2008, after the birth of her third child, a bout of near-debilitating dizziness led to a suggestion of multiple sclerosis. At this time she made a promise to herself: if diagnosed, she would bring to life the childhood dream to climb that was yet to be realised, and raise funds for MS research. Ten years and many tests later, in 2018, Jen was diagnosed with MS — and so began her quest to climb. In 2022 she embarked on her first mountaineering expedition in the Nepalese Himalayas. This was followed by an Everest attempt in 2023, reaching the South Col at almost 8,000m before being advised that missing oxygen bottles meant the climb to the summit could not continue. Jen returned to Nepal in 2024, where she led a group of people also living with MS to Everest Base Camp, each achieving a dream of their own. Jen is currently back in Nepal on her second Everest expedition. Like all climbers this season, she is waiting patiently while a giant serac — a 30-metre block of ice that is hoped will collapse — poses too great a risk to safety to allow anyone up the mountain.
You’ve described feeling “incredibly calm” heading into this attempt — what’s shifted for you since 2023, and how much do you put down to MS teaching you to approach challenges differently?
I think it’s the difference between climbing to outrun (out-climb!) a whole lot of personal challenges and doubts, versus climbing simply to experience the journey up a mountain. I didn’t realise until I didn’t get the chance to summit in 2023 — and came home to face some harsh inner truths — that I was climbing in search of a new sense of identity, of feeling enough.
Sitting in my disappointment for many months, I was faced with endless thoughts and memories that forced me to ask myself why I had tried to reach the top of the world to begin with. It was the little girl padlocked to the front fence of the school by bullies; the school principal whose career had tumbled; the teacher and mother whose daughter had faced a period of suicidal ideation; the woman whose marriage had failed; the five degrees that felt useless when WorkCover became a saving grace; the adventurous soul who felt MS may threaten even daily life; the more recently heartbroken woman after an extremely challenging failed relationship — and so much more. So many parts of me asking to be revisited, challenged, tested, healed. I climbed some of the hardest mountains out there: the ones that sit between self-doubt and self-deprecation and self-belief and love. It took a huge amount of work — letting go of projecting an “I’ve got this!!” to the world, and allowing myself to fall, hard, and get back up again. And I did! And so now I am here to climb the mountain I dreamed of as a little girl, back when life was simple and I believed I could do and try anything.
You’ve just spent 10 days alone in the mountains before meeting your guide — that’s a lot of time with your own thoughts at altitude. Is solitude something you seek out, or something you’ve learned to embrace?
I love time to myself! The older I get, the more I seek it out. Heading over early was an intentional decision to just have time to myself. I recently learned about the difference in how people recharge their energy socially — and in this sense I certainly prefer introverting to extroverting. I love people and am very friendly and social, so it surprises many that I also seek out as much alone time as I do. But it recharges me, and it’s what allows me to be present and truly love my time with others.
I notice that during time I’ve set aside for myself, while I’m always friendly, if people start to gravitate toward me — for example, to walk alongside me on a trail I wanted to walk alone — I will often suddenly need to take a quick pee break and say, “Please continue on and don’t wait for me! 😊
“What are you carrying into this attempt from your 2023 experience – and is there anything you’re deliberately leaving behind?
This time, I’m carrying the lived experience of climbing to Camp 4, which gives me a clearer inner sense of what lies ahead. In some ways, I feel less attached to the summit — although I’m not sure if that will shift as I get closer and closer. As I write this, it’s a strange and uncertain climbing season. Three years ago at this point, the mountain was open with the route set almost all the way from Base Camp to the summit. Right now, there isn’t actually a safe route even to Camp 1. So if all goes well and a safe route does open, it’s going to be a quick push in a short window — hundreds of hopefuls all aiming for one small but very high destination.
As for what I’ve deliberately left behind: I’ve tried to let go of the belief that my bladder is a lost cause. I am fully incontinent when climbing, and while I have brought some very stylish adult diapers with me, my goal is to genuinely try not to need them. Lofty goal? We shall see!
As a Coastrek ambassador, you know that the spirit of a great hike applies whether you’re walking 20km or climbing Everest. What are your non-negotiables — the hacks, rituals or reminders you bring to every single hike, no matter the distance?
Care about what you are doing — the cause, the people, the environment. Enjoy the experience for yourself, but never at the expense of anyone else.
Care for your body before you even begin. I’ll admit I’m a bit too much of a “get in and wing it” person, even when under-trained — and I tend to get away with it. But that comes off the back of decades as an outdoor education leader and teacher, so my body is used to being tested and pushed in many different ways. My “under-trained” is probably more prepared than most people’s. That said — having bodies that can carry us on these adventures is such a gift (MS confronted me to consider what life without walking might be like), and we truly need to treat our bodies as the most wonderful vehicle to carry us through life to incredible places. So love yours and listen to it. Blisters, strains, sprains, dehydration, fatigue — these can all be show-stoppers, and can often be avoided by taking the time to stop, treat, hydrate, and eat along the way.
A lot of women in our community are working up to their own “next big thing.” What’s one thing you wish someone had told you before your first attempt?
If things don’t go to plan and you find yourself near the top of your ‘mountain’ only to realise you’re not going to summit — it’s okay to have a little cry. But big crying is exhausting when you still have a mountain to climb back down before you’re safely home. Dehydration from hours of crying (in my case in 2023 at 8,000m!) is so horribly depleting it feels like a terrible hangover. Stay strong, get home safely, and then — if you need to — cry your heart out. Then rest. And when the time is right, pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and get back out there to climb that next ‘mountain.’
