For these women, conquering Everest is the easy part. It's why they are climbing that matters more

When the fatigue sets in and her feet start following themselves - one in front of the other - Lindy Harris will think of Reign.

When the altitude starts taking its toll - which she and the others in her group could never have trained for - she will think about what Reign, who never saw his third birthday, would say: be strong like the Hulk, and smart like Spiderman.

Ms Harris will be carrying a small plushy Spiderman on her pack when she conquers the 17-day climb to Mount Everest base camp this month. It is the little reminder of why she is there, and who she is climbing for.

The Hunter real estate agent was among 17 other women who departed McDonald Jones Stadium on Thursday afternoon, bound for the feet of the world's tallest mountain and its most infamous climb, determined to reach the Base Camp together in support of the Mark Hughes Foundation.

Before they set off, the hikers had already raised more than $270,000 for the cause, which supports brain cancer research and crucial support for sufferers as they navigate the devastating disease.

Reign was the grandson of Ms Harris' close friend - the retired champion jockey Corey Brown. He was diagnosed, at just 2-years-old, in November last year and died only weeks later on Boxing Day.

His family, and Ms Harris and hers, were left devastated.

"Our kids and their children grew up together," she said of Mr Brown and his daughter, Charlie - Reign's young mum.

"The grief doesn't get better."

"I can't ever imagine the pain they are suffering."

Among the group, marathon runner Jenn Davey had joined on her first trek with the Mark Hughes Foundation, which has previously conquered Kokoda and similarly challenging trips in Tasmania to support the organisation's work.

"For the last few years, I have been saying I would join one of the treks," she said. "But it never worked out. Then last year, I promised that I would make the next one."

She smiled at the mention that her first climb would be the world's most notorious.

"I think they've stitched me up," she joked. "But I'm doing it. It's meant to be."

Ms Davey, like Ms Harris and others on the trip, was taking on the climb with a close friend in her memory.

A decade ago, a close friend - Ben Walton - had succumbed to brain cancer not long after his 40^th birthday.

"It was a shock," she said. She and Mr Walton's wife had competed in marathons together. It is the tragedy of the disease, she said, that it does not discriminate.

"Make the most of what you have," she said, and dashed away a tear behind her sunglasses. "Life is so short, so you have to get out there and enjoy it."

It was a well-trodden adage that, when fatigue set in, the hikers would get through by putting one foot in front of the other.

"What can you do?" Ms Harris asked.

"It's just putting one foot in front of the other and knowing that there is an end in sight, and what is there at that end is what pulls you along."

"And knowing that we're doing it for people who are going through much worse."