Cascades Mountaineering
Summary
Two week training course in the Cascade Mountaineering
with the American Alpine Institute.
Cascade Mountaineering: You blow the bottom out girl!!!
(Although is email is long and not as humourous as my usual stuff, I
feel this one, perhaps more so than usual, is worth reading. If you
start and get bored by the climbing stuff, skip to the bottom and start
reading from "Anyway, this trip was good for one other reason.")
So it is common knowledge that on extended outdoors trips people
inevitably end up talking about three things: food, sex, and shitting.
At this particular moment, we were talking about the latter. Kai was
describing how on a trip she was on, there was a bucket around which
their team built up a makeshift toilet seat. This bucket was in a
particular area, so anytime someone walked towards it, everyone knew
what they were doing. Kai was explaining how when someone would walk
over, all the other girls would say, "oooooo" and make jokes. Well, I
didn't think this was fair. So I asked, why did it have to be negative?
Why not be a team player and offer some support? I offered
up, "You can pinch that loaf!", "Fill it up girl!" and a few others.
Pierce, our 19 year old southern brother, immediately offers up a very
supportive, "You blow the bottom out girl!" This pretty much became the
phrase of encouragement for the rest of the trip before or during a
climb, like right when you hit a tough move. "Blow the bottom out." So
if one of your friends is struggling and needs some words of
encouragement, just pat them on the back, look them in the eye, and
tell them to blow the bottom out.
Okay, so really there was just an incredible amount of nonsense on this
trip. I couldn't help myself. It was like second grade all over again
and I was just dying of laughter. Highlights (lowlights?) from the trip
include:
--bacon sushi (white trash phrase we coined for eating raw bacon)
--the most wicked breakfast burrito you ever had before a climb,
whipped up by my partner who happened to be a chef
--getting gassed out of my tent so bad that I stumbled away clutching
my throat, and 50 feet away Pierce complained about the stink trailing
behind me. After we undid the tent fly and flapped fresh air into the
tent for 5 minutes, (Danny laughing the whole time) I got back in but
still couldn't handle it and zipped up the tent with my head sticking
outside. (There'll be a photo
on my site later. ;)
--me elbowing Danny in the middle of the night for snoring, only to
realize it was someone in the tent 30 feet away snoring like a beaver
with a chainsaw
--thinking MRE's (meals ready to eat) are the hottest thing going after
a long day of climbing
--sitting on the shitters high up in the mountains and thinking how
warm they are... (gross I know!)
--Kai being carded at a bar and pulling a pair of crampons out of her
purse.
And so on...
So the first day was definitely the worst. I totally "bonked" (climber
phrase for getting really exhausted, pimp phrase for getting busy--in
this case I'm referring to climbing). I completely overpacked for food
and subsequently my pack was too heavy. Danny and our instructor Dawn
had to carry some of my stuff up the mount towards the end. I felt like
a total shit, but my legs actually cramped up so bad I couldn't walk
under weight. Even when they took some of my weight, I was still slow.
But we made it up, set up camp, cooked a quick dinner, and set up our
tent. Fortunately, I got into shape over the next few days. We worked
out of single camp up near Mt Baker for several days, learning the
basics of working as a rope team, crampon usage, self arrest, and so
on. After a few days of prep, we climbed Mt Baker, which was long and
tiring. We started the climb at 3AM, gaining over 5000ft of elevation
in the next 6 hours. Some of the terrain was about 30 - 40 degree snow
and ice, which was a first for me and although a bit scary was a great
experience. We also passed a pit of the mountain spewing out sulfur gas
from volcanic activity. The funny thing was, although we were all happy
after reaching the summit, it wasn't till we were back in town at the
end of trip that we realized what we had climbed, because it is from
there that you really get a good view of the mountain looming over the
town in the horizon. We just looked at it and thought, holy crap, we
climbed that?
After snow area (climbing Mt Baker), we went to a camp where we stayed
for 4 nights and just did multi-pitch climbs everyday. It was really
good, though the approaches were a bitch. One approach was over 2
hours. That was for a mountain with the silly name Kangaroo Temple.
This immediately brought to mind the joke someone once made about
mountain names often sounding like they are straight out of Winnie the
Pooh (right after we climbed Storm King peak, oooooooo), which made me
think of Kanga and baby Roo. So I renamed the peak from Kangaroo Temple
to the Cult of Roo. It made me laugh. No one else did, but I was happy
sitting in the bus laughing to myself very pleased with my little joke.
Picture me patting myself on the shoulder, saying "good one big guy",
staring out the window to stifle my laugh. (Hey, I said it
was 2nd grade humor.)
Anyway, it was during these climbs that a few things started to go
wrong. The first was that Peter (name changed for privacy) freaked out
on a rappel, started crying and had to be assisted/forced into his
descent. Now, honestly, this is not an uncommon thing among new
climbers. It doesn't happen a lot, but hey, it's a very emotional
experience, you're pushing your limits, you're hanging hundreds of feet
of the ground with nothing but you and a rope and team you might not
know that well. It's understandable, and as long as you work it out of
your system and move, no big deal. The problem was this was only the
first time Peter would have this problem and it would only get worse.
The next day, Peter went up with us and then decided not to climb. In
retrospect this was probably a good thing, as there was one spot that
had me a littled haired, even on a rope (Kurt, our instructor, had the
uneviable job of leading it...). As we were all anchored into the wall
past that point, I have to admit I was glad he hadn't come. I can't
imagine what he would have done. Anyway, later that day, we came
upon an accident scene where 3 young adults had driven
over the very steep switchback on the mountain. The
car rolled a few hundred feet and all 3 were ejected
(no seatbelts on). One died, one was road rash, and
one was mostly ok. Danny, who was a medic, grabbed up
a kit and booked ass up the mountain to assist,
ultimately taking over the scene due to lack of
training from the team working on it. I tried to go up
but was prevented by my instructor. We later had a
loud argument about this and didn't talk for a few
days.
Anyway, the climbing continued, and we made our
approach of El Dorado for our final climb. This was a
complete bitch of an approach (and even worse of a
descent). There were long talus fields, which I
actually enjoyed, but Peter continued to show problem
signs. At the time I thought it was just lethargy from
the steep approach, so me and Danny and Pierce slowed
down and stayed with him. In retrospect, he just
didn't want to go up. He seemed to have a fear of
talus (which is common to beginners--walking on large
shifting jagged rocks is downright scary till you get
the hang of it). Anyway, we finally got to base camp,
and it was cold and misty and everyone was exhausted.
The whole mountain peak was enshrouded in a cloud. We
setup camp, ate, and crashed around 9PM, so we could
get up at 6:30 to climb. We woke up and visibility was
bad, so we waited 2 hours. Then it was still bad. We
waited another hour and finally decided although it
wasn't getting any better, the weather was stable, so
we should just go. 45 minutes into the climb Peter was
dragging behind and suddenly announces, right in front
of a talus field, that he has forgotten his gaiters
and can't go on. It was clear he just didn't want to
climb. We got him to come to the top of the field to
talk. The group tried talking to him, but he was
uncomfortable. I stepped aside with him and encouraged
him to go on. He said he felt like a failure, and I
said I thought he could do it and if he changed his
mind later, I'd switch rope teams and go back with
him. He said ok. 30 minutes after that, we hit another
talus field and, while I waited behind him to climb,
he screamed, threw off his gloves, and threw his
trekking pole. He turned and stormed off but was
stopped by our instructors. After 10 minutes of
talking (they didn't want him to leave alone), he
simply started walking. Dawn stopped him. He screamed
again and attacked her. Now Dawn (though a total babe)
is one tough lady and pinned him quickly...at which
point Peter bit her. Dawn and Jeremy sat with him for
about 20 minutes till he became sane again, during
which time he talked about throwing himself off a
cliff. Then we all turned around, packed up camp, and
left, keeping a special eye on Peter in case he had
another episode.
We talked a lot about what happened and why. There
were lot's of factors. A big one was that Peter was
supposed to be taking psych medication, but never told
the instructors and simply stopped taking them during
the trip. As dumb as this sounds, the reasons are
understandable. Climbers get very lethargic in the
mountains and it is not uncommon after a long tiring
day in the cold evening to have no desire to perform
the necessary life-function of eating a meal. It can
actually be something you have to train yourself to
do. On my first day on this trip, it was only out of
fear that I ate. I knew rationally I had burned well
over 4000 or 5000 calories, and I needed to eat
something or it would be worse. But really, I just
wanted to go to sleep. So I understand how it happened
that he stopped taking his meds. Another problem was
that he had a brother who was a successful climber and
he probably felt like he had something to live up to.
Third, he had a family and not significant income. He
felt that he was wasting $5000 (between trip fees and
gear) by having emotional episodes and his decisions
not to climbing. Fourth, he isolated himself, when he
really needed to talk about his problems. Fifth, he
attempted to turn around and we stopped him. It was
clear to everyone he didn't want to climb. I thought I
was doing him a favor by committing to getting him to
the top even if it meant I wouldn't summit (if he
chose to go back, I had promised to go with him). But
I was wrong. I wasn't doing him a favor at all. I've
thought a lot about what this should teach me for the
future, but ultimately, I'm not sure there is a
lesson. It is important not to let people give up to
early, because often, they get through it and feel
much better for doing so. The one thing I will be
taking forward is that I should have talked to him
ealier. I was aware that he probably felt bad and was
isolating himself. I'm not his parent, and it's not my
responsibility, but I like to think life is about more
than just what you have to do. Sometimes we just need
a hand from someone who has no reason to help us,
other than because it's the decent thing to do. I
tried this during the climb, but then it was too late.
Earlier on, I was too busy being a goof off with
Danny, Pierce, and John to stop and talk to him when
he came over. I don't blame myself for his isolation,
but I think there was an opportunity there. Would it
have changed things? Who knows. At the very least,
he'd have felt better.
Anyway, that was mostly the end of the trip. We
dropped Peter off to his wife and daughter, and then
drove out to a really pretty camp site near the beach.
Danny cooked an awesome stir fry, everyone chowed down
their respective meals, and we had a relaxed night. I
left early to sit and watch the sunset and listen to
my iPod.
The next day we climbed some single pitch routes.
Pierce blew the bottom out. We had beers at the end of
the day. Some of us soaked in the hot tub till we were
prunes and talked about what we were planning on doing
next in our climbing careers. The most popular item
was Pico de Orizaba in Mexico (18400ft). Maybe later
this year. Depends on vacation time.
Anyway, this trip was good for one other reason. One
night I laid in my tent alone listening to my iPod
just thinking. I was thinking about how I've chosen to
live my life and how it turned out the way it has. I
decided it wasn't any strategic plan or anything. I
just tried to make the most of the opportunities in
front of me whether good or bad (ala Shanghai),
rebound from the failures and losses, and and to
really give everything when I go after something I
wanted. Somehow, out of this, two phrases came to
mind, and I realized that, without knowing it, these
phrases had been how I'd been living my life:
1) Live now.
2) Mean it.
The first may sound like the whole carpe diem / seize
the day thing, but it's not. I've always hated that
phrase. It always made me feel like if I wasn't having
some amazing experience every single day, that somehow
I was a failure and my life was a waste. But that's a
load of BS. It is not the case that every single day
we should expect to go to bed feeling like we've
conquered the world. Just like in climbing, where a
route up a mountain is not always up (sometimes you
dip into saddles along the way up, and at the end you
ultimately come back down), life has it's downs. We
move in and out of relationships that tear us down
then build us up, we leave places where we have
friends and go through very lonely times before we
make new ones, and we work our asses off for things we
value like family, a future, or to afford a really
lazy day in a hammock on a tropical beach. Cherish
your memories, enjoy today (or just get through it),
and work towards your goals in the future. So don't
seize the day. Seize your life.
The second is just something I really believe. Whatever you do, mean
it. If you have a job, work hard
and care about the results. And if you find you're no
good at it, find something you are good at, even if
it's less glamorous. If you are in a relationship,
love them hard, make sacrifices for them, and receive
their love without reservation. Or get the hell out of
it, and find someone you do love, and let them find
someone else too. If you set a goal for yourself, try
like hell to achieve it or just don't have the goal.
Do you really care about a goal that you stumbled your
way into without even trying? If you're an artist,
bare your soul, and risk the inevitable heartbreak or
embarassment if it is a flop. If you're feeling lazy,
flop down on a couch or hammock and be the laziest
damn Australian or Californian you can be. And if all
you're doing is sitting down to eat a great burrito,
well, enjoy the fuck out of that burrito, mister.
I'd like to open up a challenge for anyone that cares
to take it. For the next month, try living your life
with those two phrases in mind, and see how your life
turns out. Remember, this isn't carpe diem. You'll
have down days, you'll doubt yourself, and maybe
you'll be lonely from time to time. But the trend will
be up. If you do this and care to share, I'd love to
hear how it goes, or if it's personal you can keep it
private. But having realized these two phrases, I
think it has given a bit of clarity to how to live my
life. Hopefully it will for you too.
So starting today, live now. And mean it. You can't
compare day to day. But one month, or two months, or
six months from now, your life will be better. I
promise.
Take care and let me know how it goes,
fro
PS One other interpretation of "Mean it": If you're
sitting on the toilet...you blow the bottom out girl! ;)