El Padrino’s Pride: Kevin Sánchez on Climbing for More Than the Summit
When Kevin Sánchez stepped off the plane in Lukla, he carried more than crampons and a downsuit. In his pack was a flag emblazoned with the Puerto Rican colors, a photo of himself with his father, and a message to his family: Te quiero mucho y siempre, or, I love you very much and always.
The flag was for Héctor Julio Sánchez—El Padrino—the father Kevin knew but hadn’t grown up with, and the man who had become his greatest source of pride and motivation on his journey to Mount Everest.
That flag was more than just fabric. It was pride, legacy, and the bond of father and son stitched into one symbol. It was a tribute to El Padrino’s legacy and to Kevin’s dream of becoming the first Puerto Rican to climb the Seven Summits.
It was Kevin’s why.
Carrying the Why
It was that why that shaped Kevin’s path long before Everest. His climb on the world’s highest peak was twenty years in the making. On his 40th birthday, he stood on the summit of Kilimanjaro and set his sights on the Seven Summits. From there, he built his résumé one peak at a time: Vinson in Antarctica, Aconcagua in South America, Carstensz Pyramid in Oceania, Elbrus in Europe, and Cotopaxi as part of the CTSS Ecuador Volcanoes program. Each climb tested him in new ways, and on Aconcagua, his ‘why’ came into focus like never before.
After more than two weeks on Aconagua, Kevin and his team had been pinned down at Camp 3 for three days with nothing but relentless wind and cold to greet them. When a narrow summit window opened, their guides woke the team just before 3 a.m. to begin their summit push. Most of the climbers, drained from the long wait and bitter conditions, decided to stay put. Kevin pressed on. In his pocket was a seashell he had promised to carry to the summit for a friend’s late wife, a woman who loved the ocean and had dreamed of retiring by the sea. That small shell reminded him that he was climbing for something larger than himself. It gave him the strength to push into the wee hours of the morning and stand on the summit of South America’s tallest peak.
Moments like that shaped Kevin’s approach to climbing.
He began to see the mountains as a place to celebrate the experience, the people you meet, and the stories you weave together. The commitments he carried, a seashell on Aconcagua and El Padrino’s flag on Everest, brought that belief to life, making each climb larger than himself.
Everest and the Arena
When Kevin finally set foot in the Khumbu Valley, it was more than the scale of the mountains that struck him. It was the weight of the dream, the people beside him, and the purpose he carried. He remembers standing with Mike Hamill (CTSS Owner), looking up at the Khumbu Icefall, and feeling the reality of what was ahead: this would be the toughest thing he had ever done.
The expedition tested him in ways no other climb had. An abscessed tooth nearly ended his season, forcing an emergency evacuation and surgery in Kathmandu before he rejoined the team. Self-doubt also surfaced, the kind that many climbers feel when the stakes are high. For Kevin, it was a familiar weight, the same impostor syndrome he had battled on other big mountains.
Kevin put it clearly:
“In this journey, the most challenging thing is sometimes self-doubt and impostor syndrome. I’m here surrounded by phenomenal Sherpa and other wonderful climbers, and it’s really easy to go, ‘what the heck am I doing here?’
That lesson is one I almost have to learn on every mountain. I have to force myself to know that I’m good enough to be here.”
Each time Everest tested Kevin, he pushed back with the same lesson he had carried from Aconcagua: you need a why bigger than yourself. This time, it came from El Padrino, the flag he carried, and simply being in the arena.
“To me, Everest was the arena. It wasn’t about walking away with a summit photo. It was about daring to test myself, giving everything I had, and knowing I was willing to stand there and try.”
That idea of the arena became the heart of his Everest climb, and it echoed the words of Theodore Roosevelt that he had adopted as a personal mantra:
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.” – Theodore Roosevelt
Everest proved that success was not about certainty but about daring greatly. By carrying his why, by trusting the people beside him, and by stepping fully into the arena, he honored his father and himself on the world’s highest stage.
The Flag that Summitted Everest
As Kevin worked his way through his rotations, he knew he was ready. He had trained, he had prepared, and his why was clear.
Reaching the summit would be a great achievement, but his goals reached further than the top.
When a lung infection set in after his final rotation, he sat down with Mike Hamill and Jangbu Sherpa in the CTSS kitchen tent and made the call not to proceed with his summit bid. With his goals firmly in place, the decision was clear. He was in the arena, climbing the world’s tallest peak, and his father’s flag could continue to the summit with the support of his guide, Jangbu.
For Kevin, that mattered most. Jangbu, his one-on-one private guide and partner every step of the way, carried the flag to the top of the world. Kevin speaks about that moment with deep gratitude, not only because the flag reached the summit, but because it was Jangbu who carried it there. Their partnership gave the flag’s journey its meaning. At the highest point on earth, it stood for his father’s pride, his family’s legacy, and his own twenty-year dream fulfilled through trust and teamwork.
“I didn’t know my dad for most of my life, but now he’s my best friend. I climb so he can sit in his hometown in Aibontio, Puerto Rico, and say with pride, ‘That’s my son.’
Every flag, every summit attempt, every mile is for him.”
It was also proof of something Kevin had believed all along: Everest isn’t climbed alone. Behind him stood Jangbu, the Sherpa team, and the wider CTSS family, who ensured his ‘why’ reached the summit and back.
Kevin, thank you for trusting us with your dream and for sharing your journey so openly. You can hear more about Kevin’s experience on Everest in his full documentary and his reflections on climbing with CTSS in this short review, both now available on our YouTube channel.
