Batu Demir, a blind McKinsey associate, joined 99 of his coworkers on a weeklong backpacking trip along the Peaks of the Balkans trail in September. The employee-run adventure required him to place his safety in the hands of colleagues, many of whom he barely knew, and to confront assumptions about what he could accomplish.
Demir, who was born blind, said he signed up because he enjoys pushing himself and challenging others’ expectations. Yet he also felt fear. The trip was something he could not do alone, and he values independence. Relying on a group of near-strangers felt like a significant concession.
When he approached the colleague organizing the hike, he encountered a different response than the usual questions about how he would manage. Instead of asking how he would do it, the organizer asked how the group could make it happen. That attitude, Demir said, left him eager to participate.
Preparing colleagues to guide
About ten people volunteered to walk with Demir for portions of each day. He wrote a guide on how to guide a blind person and shared it with the group, recognizing that his colleagues might also be nervous about doing something for the first time.
Two worries weighed on him: he did not want to become a burden, and he did not want to feel like one. Those concerns never materialized, he said. Not once did he feel he was a burden.
Days began early with breakfast around 7 a.m., followed by making lunches, packing bags, and filling water bottles. The group slept in mountain huts, five or six people to a room. In familiar settings Demir can move independently, but because each place was new and visited for only one night, he walked with whichever colleague was heading to breakfast at the same time.
On the trail, Demir typically walked with one volunteer for two hours before switching. He held onto the guide’s elbow, with the guide one step ahead, so he could sense the rhythm of their steps. Guides called out instructions: step up, step down, rocks, trees, step over something, stay to your right.
Communication was generally excellent, but there were light moments. One colleague once warned, “There is something weird ahead.” Demir replied that this was not helpful, and they both laughed.
Conversations rarely turned to work. Instead, colleagues shared stories about their backgrounds, travels, and, inevitably, food, since everyone was hungry.
The trust required on the trail
Walking with guides demanded deep trust. An instruction given a second too early could send Demir stepping into empty space; a second too late could mean a fall from a rock. He also had to trust his own body. He misstepped at times, once onto a rock that began to roll, but he relied on his alertness to correct himself rather than fall.
Seeing colleagues in this new context changed his view of the firm. Away from documents, presentations, and stressful client deadlines, he gained a fuller appreciation for his coworkers and the company.
He will remember the volunteers who walked with him and their kindness. They never made him feel they were doing him a favor; instead, it felt like a team effort, something they were doing together.
Experiencing the mountains without sight
The trip also offered a profound disconnect from daily life. People sometimes ask Demir why he would go on a hut hike when he cannot see the scenery. He cannot see it, he acknowledges, but he can use his other senses.
The group climbed about 1,000 meters almost every day. The end of those ascents felt special: they would emerge into open mountains, and Demir could feel a sharp wind on his face. His guide provided vivid descriptions of the surroundings. Those were his favorite moments.
Near trees, he caught the faint smell of pine. In the mountains, he could hear almost nothing—no sound at all when no one was talking. Sometimes the group walked in silence, listening only to the crunch of their boots.
Such moments stay with him vividly. They offer a chance to reflect on who he is and what he wants to do in the world.
Demir’s takeaway is simple: people often tell themselves something will be too difficult because of a particular obstacle. He saw that when you reach out, people are willing to help. The experience pushed him to ask which limits he accepts without questioning, and what might become possible if he refuses to accept them.
