When I told my boss that I wanted to join this expedition, his response was suitably mixed. “I think you are crazy! Six months! It sounds fantastic. Of course you can. If this doesn’t inspire adventure in people, what will?”

Thankfully, he also was suitably inspired to let Phil, my superstar mountaineering partner and husband, take three months unpaid leave from his full-time instructor post. Phil wanted to do the Everest section with me. So, after renting out our home, asking Phil to live in our camper van for the winter while I did the cycling and getting a healthy loan from the bank — I was off!

We joined Dom Faulkner, expedition leader and mastermind behind the EverestMax expedition. I was able to join 10 weeks before departure, due to another team member dropping out. Yes, I was there by default.

We began our journey on Dec. 18, 2005. Our team consisted of five cyclists and would-be Everest summiteers and two support members. What a fantastic team! It took a few weeks to settle into each other’s quirky habits and from then on banter ruled the day. The more adverse the situation, the more we rose to the challenge and made it fun.

We cycled through torrential rain, snow, sandstorms and wind. We had no choice: We needed to be in Kathmandu ready to leave for the mountain by April 1. We could not afford to stop for weather; we had 13 weeks to get to Kathmandu from Jordan!

The first day on the bikes was one of my most nervous. I was by far the oldest at 41 and least rehearsed at long-distance cycling. Our first day was 47 miles from the shores of the Dead Sea to Amman, with a height gain of more than 4,000 feet. Intimidated? Yes! Although I was the slowest, the supportive nature of the team was apparent from the beginning.

One outstanding feature of the bike trip was the consistent hospitality, welcome and generosity we experienced throughout our journey. My VIV moment came one evening in Pakistan after a long ride on a hot day. We were curious to see what the shouting was about over the wall from our compound. It turned out to be a soccer match on a full-size field for the locals. We climbed over the wall and watched. The men in our group were invited into play almost immediately, and the other female team member and I could not help but ask if we could join in.

The Pakistanis did not even hesitate. I was playing a fantastic game of football with Pakistani men and boys, some with shoes, some without, in the middle of their country. We were loving the energy, fun, skill and competition, and it all ended with big cheers and mutual congratulations on both sides. Why, I thought, couldn’t the whole world live like this, instead of being force-fed opinions from religious, political or extremist leaders?

We journeyed on, and when we got to Everest Base Camp, where we were joined by eight other climbers, including Phil. Our Sherpa team was responsible for putting our tents up at all the camps and getting the oxygen up there too. They were strong, brave and a joy to work with.

We passed very steep drop-offs and had to do some tricky mixed rock and snow climbing. We also passed three bodies that were humbling reminders that we were in the death zone.

At last, we reached the top. The weather was perfect, the views amazing. I was euphoric when I used the radio to call down to the team at the lower camp. They cheered and passed the radio around. It was a true team success, and I was the lucky one who could send the news from the summit.

The expedition has added so much to my life, and my perception of the Middle East has changed permanently. I think I was expecting to have a hard time in Iran as a woman and that I’d feel pity for the women there.

We spent a month in Iran and we loved every minute. The women were great, happy and interested in us without being jealous. The men were chivalrous and courteous. We should never judge or a country or its people by what we hear in the media.

When I got back home, I was asked to tell the story as a motivational talk for corporations and charities, and that eventually led to my making a career change. In 2010, my husband and I went part-time. We rent out our house, which means it pays for itself, and we now live in a motor home so that we can play for six months a year and work for six months. This has given me the time to write a book called The World’s Longest Climb (Grafica Unlimited, 2011) and become an inspirational speaker. I love telling the story and being able to share it through the book. Life is sweet.

I’d had a decent corporate job in Austin, but truth be told, I hated it, and I am not very good at hiding those things. At the same time, I’d been exchanging love letters and long phone calls with a man I was falling for who lived in another state. Both of us were creative, native Californians who were living land-locked, so we dreamt up this love story with the sea, enriched by a culture of board sports, bikes and street art with soulful elements of home, and people we missed. I called it Anchor Girl.

The relationship ended abruptly, and I was left with drawings of anchors, the sea, and graffiti-like needlepoint I had drawn in my sketch books. In my loneliness, I began to write and dream some more.

My VIV moment happened one evening in Austin. As I stood on my balcony talking on the phone to my friend to Benji Thrasher (founder of the clothing line called People Are), it became clear that I wanted to develop Anchor Girl as a brand of goods aimed at athletic, adventurous young women. I’d always been a cyclist and snowboarder. I wanted Anchor Girl to celebrate the sea, sports, being creative and, well, living life fully! I realized that the Anchor Girl story wasn’t about that man in another state, but my love of California and following my dreams.

I called several possible mentors, found a great entrepreneurs’ training program and within a month I packed my bags for one more move — back to California, specifically Los Angeles.

Today Anchor Girl includes messenger bags, tops and T-shirts with simple graphic images of sea life. The mission is to create great products, inspire others and protect our oceans. We have partnered with the Gulf Restoration Network to donate a portion of our proceeds to them. The image of the pelican on the Anchor Girl baseball T-shirt and messenger bags honors the 11 oil workers killed on the Deepwater Horizon oil rig and all the life that continues to suffer as a result of the Deepwater spill in the Gulf of Mexico.

Our website features contests in which entrants tell what inspires them about sports or the wilderness, and celebrates extraordinary, adventurous young women who are nominated by their friends and family. Anchor Girl is evolving! I’m very excited about the buzz it’s getting and look forward to guiding its growth.