Waddington Trip Report; Part 5; Grinding of the Gears; Part 1

Bliss 

We had made it to the middle of the range, finally!   We were on schedule for the first time since the beginning of our trip.   Surrounding us were peaks with large open glaciers that separated us from everything else in the world.  Our camp was on dry ground, set up on a rock outcropping that held a respectable view of the surrounding area.

The first day on site, we practiced snow anchors again, then were given a short lesson on crevasse rescue and how it was supposed to work; all in a very relaxed setting, no stress, just standing there comfortably.

During the CHAI meeting the following goals were set for us at the location:  1) summit one of the half dozen surrounding peaks; and 2) practice crevasse rescue.

It was decided to do crevasse rescue first, then attempt a peak the following day. The thought was to have an 'easy' day, come back to camp early, bed down and get a good night's sleep. This, in turn, would allow an early wake up, tag the summit, come back and crash without having to worry about the rescuing piece. Translation: work before you play.

Packs on back at 0930 the next morning with things you would need to stay warm and nothing else. What a concept, only take layers, a day pack basically. No need to strike camp, no heavy packs, just water and a few snacks and layers. Life was good. The next morning we tied into our rope teams and set off toward the crevasses.


Rope Team Travel

Moving on glaciers is an art, knowing where there are potential cracks called crevasses, where the glacier has broken because it could not handle the forces put on it, where travel will be easy, and where travel will be hard. Sometimes groups will have to cross crevasses and while there are signs and tricks to see and avoid holes, one can never be "too safe".

Any time we were on a glacier, we were roped up. Each rope had a head and a tail with a person or two in between, all tied together with a knot through the harness and then up through the "hero loop", then to the next climber.  A hero loop is a piece of webbing that is tired to one of the shoulder straps of the pack. The strap has a carabiner attached to it and a rope is clipped through in order to keep the climber safe. The trick was leaving the person in front of you enough rope so they aren't pulled back, but being 'close' enough to catch them should they fall. The distance from our hero loop to where the rope touched the ground was supposed to be a ski tip away from where we were.



Progress at first was slow and rough as we were trying to find the pace that worked for everyone on the team. Out tallest member was 6'5", our shortest, just under 5'6".  When the tall person took one step the shorter people would have to take two or three to keep up. The trick was to find a comfortable pace for everyone in the team. It took us a while to make that work. We traveled in rope teams for each others safety, to protect each other from falls.

Another consideration was what kind of terrain separated members of the rope teams. It was important to keep that in mind so you aren't dragging your team members uphill as you start to drop down the other side. Just like anything else it took time to master.  By the last snow days, we were covering two or three times the distance we were in our first few days.

Rescue

We marched quickly toward the crevasse, unencumbered as our packs are very light. Just under 2 hours later we arrived and probed an area so we could un-rope. Jorn then asked for a couple of volunteers. By this time I had learned whatever Jorn did, I should do, if he asked for volunteers, volunteer so you don't psych yourself out watching someone else go first.

Here is what the math looks like; you have a 50m rope, one guy on each end, one in the middle, that means there is about 60ft of rope between the first and the second person.  Add a couple feet of rope stretch and the total falling distance that I calculated was about 35 feet or so. That is a long way to fall, but it was made worse because I KNEW it was going to happen, It wasn't like it could happen, it WOULD happen. And in the next 5 minutes my instructors would ask me to walk off the edge.

In an imperfect world the leader 'falls' into a crevasse, the second and third team members self arrests catching the fall, then the third person builds an anchor and pulley system to haul you out. That was the theory. Chase was to go first, he just smiled and walked off the edge like it was no big deal, no scream, no yell, just silence. As soon as Chase had gone over the edge I turned to watch Nial get pulled off of his feet and fly five feet before he landed and self-arrested catching the fall. It became very real for me.

Then it was my turn.

I looked over my shoulder to encourage my team members, then started toward the edge.
"Just don't stop, just don't stop, just don't stop..." I made the mistake of looking down two paces before the edge.  "Ohhhhh man, that's a long way down."  Both the proverbial angel on my left shoulder and the proverbial devil on my right looked at each other and said, "Oooooh-no", then in unison told me to stop what ever that looked like. I didn't stop, because if I did I would have to go through the entire process again.

In one more pace my boots gave way beneath me and I fell. Will they catch me? I wondered, and then like a rubber band the rope bunched in front of my eyes and then was yanked taunt with a violent jerk.  The rope running through the hero loop to my harness yanked me upright before my harness caught me. My pelvis wasn't snapped by the force of the fall because the hero loop pulled me upright as the rope was pulled taunt. The devil on my shoulder cursed like a sailor and the angel just nodded his agreement.  That was scary!   However my fall had been stopped, and there was nothing to do but hang out, and hope my heart rate would soon return to normal.

It happened about that quickly. Soon a third person had joined us in the crevasse and we waited for our respective rope teams to build the pulley system and haul us out. It was a weird experience being in the crevasse. The walls were white and icy blue. Looking below me, the wall continued for another 50 feet until the snow floor below. I noticed a dark blue and purple hole about the size of a VW Bug in the snow floor; that wasn't the floor but a thin snow bridge the covered the rest of the crevasse. My stomach turned; had my team not caught me no one would have ever seen me again.

It was rumored that Jorn had fallen into a crevasse unroped and had gotten out to climb another day. I can neither confirm nor deny the truth of that rumor but it wasn't to far fetched with how often he had been in the mountains.  And so once again, the myth of Jorn grew.

So we hung.   And we hung.  Annnnd... we hung. Chase finally started to go up and was soon over the lip.   The other fallen climber made her ascent and was up and out.  I hung my legs having lost all feeling by now. Jeff popped his head over and asked how I was doing to which I responded "just fine".  He said to hang tight, my team mates were working on the pulley system; it shouldn't be that much longer. My thoughts drifted as I began to ponder, wandering form topic to topic.

The rope pulled tight dragging me out of dream land and back into reality where I hung confused for the first minute or two wondering where I was. It all came rushing back, but it took a second before it did. I was pulled up three inches at a time until I reached the lip of the crevasse where I yelled at the team until they stopped pulling. During the fall, the rope had cut into the edge of the crevasse a good three feet and was being pulled directly from my harness to the anchor, in a straight line. We had been told about this before hand, and how critical it was to listen closely for the fallen climber's voice so they did not get crushed on the lip.

I clawed madly at the lip with my gloved hands trying to free myself from the edge and stand once again upon the surface. It was a struggle for a good five minutes as I dug from the bottom and Grant dug from the top. I felt good enough for the team to haul me up another few feet and so they slowly pulled watching for me to give the cut-off signal in case I became crushed during the pull if the pressure was too much, I gave the cut off and back to digging we went. Another five minutes went by and we repeated the process. Another three inches closer to the top.  This was SLOW going!  After resetting the pulley system, they asked if I was ready.  I nodded, trying desperately to help in any way possible.

Cole, the climber pulling me out, was maybe 120 lbs and I had at least 50 lbs on him. They pulled slowly, moving the rope through the prusik knot and pulling it  taut.  I swung my boots into the wall of the crevasse trying to find purchase without success.  Reset the pulley and go again, I swung my boots against the sidewall desperately, all they were hitting was dry powder; then a muted thump sound and my spirits soared, the snow was firm enough to let me kick in a step. I waited for them to reset the pulley and told them they were almost done, they pulled and I stood on my good leg compressing the snow beneath my boot into a solid foothold. They reset the pulley system quickly as I had relieved tension on the system by taking my own weight allowing the rope to slide through. I worked on a platform for my left foot as they did so and set my foot ready to stand up when they were ready. They pulled and I all but ran up the remaining few feet and cheered loudly for my team and that I was out.

I had been down there hanging for over an hour; I couldn't feel my legs.

Then it was my turn to haul someone out. On paper it is a very simple operation; catch the fall, build an anchor, build the pulley system, haul the climber out. I wondered as I stood as the third member of the rope team if I would have to help catch the fall or would Grant, the second in the team, catch the entire thing. Stig walked toward the edge and disappeared quicker then I thought possible. I fell on my ax waiting for force to be transferred to me to help catch the fall; Grant caught the load leaving me free to go about my way. Walking up quickly to Grant I checked to make sure that he was uninjured caused by catching the fall; he was ok. I dropped my pack beside him so he could hand me equipment as I needed it.  I pulled snow anchors from his pack and lay them out in the snow. I marked an X beneath the spot that I wanted the power point of my anchor to lay, I then laid out the two pickets, snow anchors, and aligned their webbing so the ends lay on the X, then started digging the troughs to slide them into.

This is a lot of work.  We were instructed to dig to a depth that would allow us to put our arm down the pit from finger tips to elbows. It took me 20 minutes to set the two pickets and build the point. Making the exercise as realistic as possible we were wearing the layers we would be wearing out on a normal day.  By the time I had the anchor built, I was in my hiking pants and my t-shirt.  My hat was pulled off in an attempt to keep my glasses from fogging over; it was work. 

After the power-point was constructed the next step was to take Grant out of the system, transferring weight to the anchor and off of Grant. Taking one of my prusik cords from my harness, I tied an eight on a bight, then attached this to the rope just below my power-point and clipped the eight through the carabiner. After double checking my work, I had Grant lean forward, loading the prusik and transfering Stig's weight to the anchor. Belaying myself out to the edge, I asked Stig if he was okay.  He was,  I informed him of the progress I had made. I then attached another prusik to the rope closer to the edge and clipped a carabiner to that.  I then ran the tail from Grant's end above the anchor to the carabiner and back, creating the pulley system I would need to haul up Stig. I had Grant hold the prusik beneath the anchor so I could pull the rope through system and then have the knot catch the rope when I needed allowing the rope to only go one way. After that had been checked, I took my backpack as far out to the edge as I dared and muscled it beneath the rope so that the rope would float on the surface of the snow and not cut deeper. I informed Stig I was going to haul him out soon to which he gave me thumbs-up.  All of this work, and the hard part hadn't even started. I pulled with all of my might and barely moved the rope. I struggled onward and pulled and pulled finally making progress.  I then had to reset the prusiks and do the entire thing again. The next two pulls I had help from four or five other team members, and we quickly had Stig just beneath the lip. I started digging carefully with the shovel to free Stig from the lip. A few more pulls and he was up and moving. I was exhausted. It was the most real part of the trip for me. 

Most of the group had done all three roles; lead, second, and third. We packed up and started back to camp and were back in out tents in just over an hour. I looked at my watch:  it read 1502.   I was more exhausted than I had been on the entire trip.  I was worn out physically and mentally. The group meeting wasn't until after dinner and I was able to rest until that time. I drifted off to sleep in as few layers as possible.  The sun was out and hot, and the warmth felt good. 

Tomorrow will be a big day. but with light packs, I could really get used to this lifestyle.

Z

The Chair Lift Haunting

Outside Magazine Response

The article published in Outside Online concerning the safety of the chair lifts of our nation could unsettle those unfamiliar with the ski industry and their practices. The ski industry is in the business of moving people, primarily uphill, through the use of ropeways.

The age of the ropeway systems in the United States is growing older and the lifts continue to run each season receiving maintenance when required. Because ropeways have a predetermined life span, it is logical to assume resorts will use their lifts until it becomes more efficient to replace the lift instead of repair it. Because of the number of lifts in the country, it is reasonable to assume regular maintenance checks will eventually miss something that will in time cause the lift to fail. For example, on March 21, 2015 a chair lift at Sugarloaf lost traction and rolled back.  It was eventually stopped by the emergency brake, the “gear appears to have failed some time before the March incident but went unnoticed” (“Borrell”). Ski areas may not be aware of issues until the lift fails; it is most likely more dangerous driving to the resort than it is riding the lifts. Since 1973,  “13 deaths and 73 injuries resulting from 10 lift malfunctions in the United States” (“Borrell”) have been recorded.  More importantly the industry “has not experienced a fatality resulting from a lift malfunction since 1993, a 23 year period” (“NSAA”). This indicates the industry made improvements in ropeway safety; the article only mentioned the death in 1993 and then redirects focus to the lack of national lift safety and maintenance requirements, quickly glazing over this achievement.

Cal OSHA regulates tramways in California and oversaw the data at the location of the last fatality and does not share data bases with the NSAA. NSAA could not have been known about the incident at the time Outside Magazine contacted them about the March 1993 incident. In addition to not sharing databases with NSAA, Cal OSHA withholds “nearly all information about accidents, injuries and safety practices from the public and the government” according to an executive summary about the 2012/2013 ski season, which explains why NSAA would be unaware of the latest fatality and would have been unable to record it for their records.

It is unclear how “local resort” is defined by Outside Magazine defined, is a local resort the resort you go to the most often, acreage that is available to ski, or the distance from the skier to the resort? If “local” is defined by the skiable acreage of a resort, then Snow Trails, OH might fall into the “local” category with only 80 skiable acres (“Trails”) as compared to Vail Mountain’s 5,289 skiable acres (“Vail”). It would be illogical to define local by how many miles must be driven to reach the resort because what some consider close, others consider a road trip; the author is very vague about how local is defined. In conclusion, the article published by Outside Magazine sheds light on what could become an issue for the ski industry should it be left un-addressed, however the data does not support the ‘death trap’ concept suggested by the author.

NSAA records are availabe to the public and can be accessed through their website, https://www.nsaa.org/, as well as the fact sheet that was used as a reference for this response (see NSAA 1). See Cal OSHA below for tramway regulations in place as of October 2016.

The following content is a letter that was sent from NSAA to Outside Magazine after the article was posted. 


NSAA Open Letter on Outside Magazine Chairlift Safety Article

The ski industry has serious concerns with Outside’s recent article “Is Your Local Chairlift a

Death Trap?” The exaggerated, sensational tone, the significant errors—and especially the

critical omissions—are far beneath Outside’s typical standards of excellence. Look no further

than the choice of the lurid graphic of skeletons—yes, skeletons—riding a chairlift to appreciate

that Outside’s true goal here was more click-bait than objective analysis. The article is a

disservice to the ski industry as well as Outside’s readership.


Here are the facts. There is no transportation system as safely operated, with so few injuries

and fatalities, as the uphill transportation provided by chairlifts at ski resorts in the U.S. To put

things in perspective, a passenger is five times more likely to suffer a fatality riding an elevator

than a ski lift, and eight times more likely to suffer a fatality riding in a car than on a ski lift. Ski

areas have responsibly invested almost half a billion dollars in lift replacements, upgrades and

maintenance over the past 10 years.


Despite “months researching,” the article was sloppy with the facts and greatly inflated the risk

to the public of riding chairlifts at ski areas. For example, the article misleadingly highlighted

Mad River Glen’s iconic single chair (installed in 1948) as an illustration of aging lifts—when in

fact the ski area opted to entirely rebuild its famed single chair in 2007, at a much higher cost

than replacing it with a double chair, including state-of-art components and safety systems.

This mistake was particularly ironic given that the article contained a link to a source describing

exactly the great lengths taken to ensure its safety.


Outside’s lack of objectivity was underscored when the article cited Dick Penniman as a noted

authority on chairlifts—a man who has absolutely no engineering expertise on chairlifts and

extremely limited ski area operations experience otherwise. During Outside’s research on the

article, NSAA stressed to the writer that Mr. Penniman has never been a member of the ANSI

B77 committee (which is open to the public), and that in fact, the committee rejected him for

falsifying his application. Outside intentionally refused to include this critical detail, giving Mr.

Penniman a sense of credibility that is utterly undeserved on this important issue.

Contrary to the impression readers get from the article, ski area chairlifts are regulated. State

tramway authorities and the US Forest Service, through a team of tramway engineers, regulate

lift operations at ski areas. Moreover, every U.S. ski area adheres to the rigorous American

National Standard (ANS) B77.1 Standard, a national consensus safety standard followed in the

U.S. and mirrored in Canada (Z98) and Europe (CEN). The ANSI B77.1 Standard is required to

be updated every 5 years by ANSI regulation. Although the article discounts consensus

standards as “voluntary,” in fact, consensus standards are developed with input from the federal

government, industry, academia, consumer groups and other stakeholders. The federal

government relies on consensus safety standards out of necessity, and there are over 22,000 of

them in effect in the U.S.


Furthermore, there is nothing cursory about ski lift inspections. Annual inspections are

conducted pursuant to state regulations, insurance policy requirements and U.S. Forest Service

permit requirements. Additionally, ski areas conscientiously inspect their own lifts and

components daily, weekly, and throughout the entire year.


Finally, you won’t find an industry more transparent than the ski industry when it comes to

reporting safety data. There are no skeletons in our closet. NSAA annually compiles a

comprehensive report for the media and the public detailing lift incidents going back four

decades. Visit the home page of www.nsaa.org for links to in-depth data on lift safety. Neither

the elevator industry nor the amusement industry compile similar reports of their incidents. The

ski industry deserves full credit for its transparency.

In closing, the ski industry is fully committed to the safe operation of our chairlifts and we have

an exemplary track record to show for it. The ski industry deserves a more objective and truthful


treatment of this complex topic, without resort to hyperbole and sensationalism.

SOURCES

Borrell, Brendan. "Is Your Local Chairlift a Death Trap?" Outside Online. N.p., 12 Oct. 2016. Web. 27 Oct. 2016.

NSAA

https://www.nsaa.org/, .

NSAA 1

https://www.nsaa.org/media/68048/NSAA-Ski-Lift-Safety-Fact-Sheet-10-1-2012.pdf

Cal OSHA

http://www.dir.ca.gov/title8/sub6_1.html

http://www.dir.ca.gov/dosh/aroffices.htm

Cal OSHA 2

California Ski Resort Safety:  The Case for Transparency Legislation Executive Summary

http://www.snowsportsafety.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/CSSSO_Case-for-safety-transparency.pdf

Trails, Snow. "GET TO KNOW SNOW TRAILS." Snow Trails. N.p., n.d. Web. 27 Oct. 2016.

"Vail Ski Resort." Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation, n.d. Web. 27 Oct. 2016

Waddington Trip Report; Part 4: Horse Shoes and Hand Grenades

Grad School

We had made it - finally - to the mountains. They were so grand.  So big.  Sooo much snow.  And no more s'wack!   As we sat in parallel parked rope teams, discussing how nice it would be to not have any more vegetation until the final days, Jorn simply shook his head and smiled.  That should have been my 1st clue.

The solution to the riddle that is "Jorn" was not to be found by the Waddington 68 group despite the use of Occam's Razor. (Yeah, I know.  Look it up.)  Unlike the 'typical' mountain instructor who is mid-to-late 20's, single, doing what it takes to make ends meet, and has a totally biased world view, Jorn was not any of these. He was quiet. Intense. Not young.  At the end of most days we held a CHAI meeting. "Community Announcements, Hot Seat, Affirmations, and Information." A popular question tossed around the circle was, 'What was the most interesting/cool thing you have done?'  (One answer told the story of three students that came up from sea level and attempted a 14'er with what could have been deadly results.  But it was a cool story.)

"What was the coolest thing you have done, Jorn?"

"The coolest thing that I can tell you about was the HALO jumps I did," he casually replied.

Two things stand out: HALO jump(s) and 'the coolest thing I can tell you about.'
For my non-military friends, a HALO jump is an acronym for High Altitude, Low Opening parachute jump. A plane will fly high above contested territory and drop troopers, who free fall until the last possible moment and deploy their chutes for a 'detection-less' insertion. That was the thing he could tell us about. What had he done that he couldn't talk about?

What we knew about Jorn consisted of:

• He had served 20 odd years in some military, for which country we didn't know. 
• He was older then 50 
• He had more experience in the mountains than anyone else on the trip

And...  The mystery of Jorn continues...


Second Gear

We walked through the clouds into the wonderland below. Stumbling downward, I kept my mind busy by envisioning how I would ski the slope I was on. We kept descending for a few thousand vertical feet. The contour lines grew close together until they were almost on top of each other, each black line on the map bleeding into it's neighbor. An hour and a half later and we were only half way down. The white paths of safety ended, leaving fields and gullies of loose rock and boulders. Off Jorn went, jaunting through as if he was on the way to get coffee. I blinked my frustration, admiration, and fear, hoping for the first time that my sunglasses weren't mirrored so he would understand how I felt because there was no way words were going to cut it. All he had to say about it was to stay out from under each other and keep moving, and off he went again.

This was... different.

There was no protection.  No safety.  If you fell, and couldn't stop, it would be game over. From within my bones I felt the cold fingers of fear leave my marrow and encase the bone. Webbing across the surface turning the white bone to a dull gray, it began to seep through the muscle pushing the pulse back until my heart had all but been encased. Fear - paralyzing fear - consumed me. I had done some pretty sketchy stuff in the mountains but nothing of this caliber. In any other circumstance I would not have gone down this way. But down we went. When we got there it was all I could do to sit still. Adrenaline was drowning my system, and it's influence continued to pump my body to believe it was not safe. But I was.  Somehow, I made it down alive.

Looking back up at the drainage ditch, we saw the rest of the group at the top. One by one they start their descent, slowly, carefully. I could no longer keep Father Time at bay. Sleep was coming like a freight train loaded with coal and I closed my eyes.

My eyes flutter opened. I'd been asleep for 20 minutes already.  Jorn's voice drifted through the air saying that something was wrong and that he would be back.

"Zane, packs on in 5," said a voice outside of my dark world.

"I'm up," I responded, wishing it hadn't come to that.

Off we went toward Oval Lake. Another two hours of rope team travel followed with an hour unroped. We arrived on the other side of the range realizing my dreaded enemy was back. S'wack.  I might have uttered a curse word.

After a good night's rest, we battled a few hours through the alder and arrived at the lake. The welcoming committee was unwelcome: the mosquitoes had a field day.  Pushing on to the next glacier we made good progress, but it not enough. Mandeep took the lead, and was moving fast. We were on the edge of a dry glacier where all of the rocks and trees had been bulldozed. It was a weird world.  Everything was frozen in place. Water had melted and refroze into little beads giving our boots traction.

Our first experience with a dry glacier would not be a good one. Faster and faster we went, and then faster still. Our line had spaced out, with the front half pulling away and the second half falling farther behind. "It's only a matter of time before someone gets hurt," I thought. Nick misplaced a step and gravity took over, pulling him down the 60 degree slope. Falling six feet and landing on his shoulder, he bounced.  Time slowed. I counted my heart beats, thinking that this might be my first experience with death, it can't go right. Nick's throaty yells filled my ears as he landed on his back, his pack between him and the ground some vertical feet from where he started.

He lay there moaning.

One of the students stabilized his head in case of a spinal injury. The I-team (Instructor team) quickly was there going step by step down the list to make sure Nick was ok. All other sound had stopped. Ten minutes later Nick was sitting up talking. He was shaken but not hurt. The demons came whispering out from behind the dirty ice: why was Mandeep pushing us so fast?  Why didn't the other instructors say something?   This was the second time in two days that we got lucky. Coming down the steep rock gully, a small boulder had been dislodged and only the student's pack, and it's size, saved him from what very likely could have been a deadly encounter. Jorn took over, making sure the group was okay, then heading onward with renewed speed.

The forced march continued until we found and probed a site to spend the night.  We slept, an unfriendly tension in the air. NOLS is big on teamwork and team dynamics, more specifically how to handle conflict. The instructors had a very long meeting.  It was obvious there was disagreement in the ranks.  We didn't really know what happened, but from then on there was a friction that remained until late in the trip.

We stayed at that camp for a couple of days.  One day we practiced building snow anchors and had a nice little rest. The sensation of time is non-existent in the back-country.   You move when it makes sense to move; you bide your time when you need to wait. The next step to our journey was to traverse from one glacier up to another, then tag a pass and drop into the valley on the other side. In years past there was a steep but climbable snow ramp connecting the two.   On this trip there was no ramp, just a cliff. The plan was for the group to split up into three teams, and then shuttle their way up a top roped pitch connecting the two glaciers. Packs on back time was 0300 in hopes that the water falls would have frozen over.

Tent groups were rearranged so that each tent contained a rope team, hopeful that things in the morning would go more smoothly. We didn't sleep well and the alarms went off at 0130, beginning our day. It began with a hour delay for packs on backs due to weather. Crawling back into our sleeping bags we hunkered for another 60 minutes, not wanting to go back to sleep. 0245, another delay of an hour.  Packs on backs at 0500. Time moved like a melting ice-sickle, drop by slowww drop. Another hour delay pushed the start time to 0600. The red tent fabric snapped with the wind, a violent dance that lolled me to sleep until my alarm went off at 0525. Striking camp had become second nature, and we were cleaned up in record time. At the start of our trip it took us 45 minutes to go from bags to packed.  By the last few days it was done in almost 15.

The first team headed off across the divide and started the climb. The rest of the group waited until the first team was on it's way up so there would be no line at the belay. We watched as they reached the climb, and stopped and waited. Jorn in his trademark orange shell jacket, and Mandeep in his blueberry colored shell, they ventured up to the left, then back to the group, and Jorn started the climb. Smooth sailing until about halfway up, where he stopped, and waited. The group at camp watched him for a solid 15 minutes.  He stood there for that time, then down climbed and the rope team started to come back. No dice, the route was impassable. Upon returning we saw Jorn soaked head to toe, and the I-team had a meeting while the students talked. Story was the entire route was up a water fall, and exposed the entire way. The best case scenario was for people to climb up and everything be soaked and everyone cold. It just wasn't going to happen.

Margaret was part of the team that went up to attempt the climb; these are what she brought back.

We spent the next hour descending back to the lake where we set up camp, wondering how long we'd be there this time. It had been a long day: awake since 0130, covering 3 miles total, all in retreat. Before returning to the lake Jorn called Mama NOLS and requested instruction on what they wanted us to do next.

The next morning a team climbed the pass that we had come down 3 days prior.  They wanted to try the sat phone again, which had broke, tolerance for adversity and uncertainty. So we waited.  Jorn called for a meeting, and another fact about Jorn was brought to light:  he was one of the higher ups at the New Zealand NOLS branch. He then explained to us what the PNW, Pacific North West NOLS branch, would be doing. It was reassuring to 'know' what was going on and to know what 'would' happen. Which boiled down to the PNW was either going to give us a new route or they would shuttle us to the next food drop in the helicopter. Day one ticked by.  Then day two. By day three, we were restless.  Food was running low but we didn't have to eat much because we weren't burning calories. We laid in the tents hunting the mosquitoes that entered when we did.

Day three of waiting was filled by a lesson on ice climbing on the dry glacier. Excited to be doing something, we set off toward the glacier. We never made it to the ice that day. As we set off to climb, a helicopter rose form behind a ridge and landed near our camp with instructions to shuttle the group to the next food drop.

The view from the chopper. Our maps show the entire valley to be filled with a glacier, not the tiny ribbon that you see. It should stretch from one hill to the other. I really didn't understand the magnitude of everything until we were flying.

One hour later, we were dropped in the middle of the range.   An hour after that, we had set up camp and were told to sleep until the sun came up.

So we did.

Little did we know that the hardest days were ahead of us.  Everything up to this point had just been a preview.

Z

The Bear and Me; Part 1; Kobayashi Maru;

Hello Real World 

That moment you realize that what you thought was a one hour class is actually a 4 hour class. Great.  It couldn't be helped now, so off I went to a basic first responder lesson that would teach us how to react quickly in different scenarios to give the patient a fighting chance. It started out like I thought it would with a movie explaining what we should learn. (Four hours of this, greeeeat. **rolls eyes**)  But no, our teacher, "the Bear" had something else in mind.  It went from boring movie to story time.  And not just story time, but to be a player in said story, cool.

We were put into groups and all but one were asked to go to the end of the hallway and await instructions. Ten minutes go by, then fifteen, and more. Finally it was my group's time. One person was directed into a side room, me and the 3rd group member were taken back to the classroom and then it dawned on me: it wasn't just story time, it was information for the game we were about to play. A game based on what we had learned so far in the class.

'Story time' had consisted of some basic information. In this case, there was supposed to have been a crew of four guys, but one didn't show up so we were down to a team of three. Company policy says that we must go places in groups of two, so two of us in the control room overseeing the production of snow, and in theory two of us to check the snow guns that would shoot the mix onto the runs.

'We' had sent one of our own guys, alone, to check the gun lines and to keep them operational. I say 'we' because the Bear had told us what 'we' did, even though it was against policy. We were supposed to have radio check-ins every 20 minutes with the guy inspecting the guns. It is 0100 and a storm is coming in shortly. The last check in was 30 minutes ago and the storm is almost on us. The question is: what do we do?

My mentality was to get our buddy back. We had a general idea of his location and we knew he had the proper equipment to weather the elements until Mountain Rescue arrived. But, he was still outside and had not contacted us.  My friend and I agreed that we needed to shut down the snow making machines and call for help, and to call our supervisor and give him an update. Mountain Rescue was an hour away.  The supervisor's phone went to voicemail, so we left a message.

Then came the dilemma: do we go looking for our teammate or do we wait?  I said I wouldn't go, because it could make us part of the problem, and we knew Mountain Rescue was on the way. My partner wanted to go on the grounds that he had a good idea where #3 guy was, and it could be as simple as a radio issue. I asked how much longer it would take to shut the machines down. Bear said that they had already been shut down, so the ball was in my court.  Company policy said that we could leave the operation room if everything was shut down (it was), and my buddy was going out looking. In the end I decided it was better to collaborate with him than let him go out alone.

Off we went to the other room where we 'found' the guys sled next to one of the pits used for snow making. Each pit is about 20 feet deep and square, and in the bottom of each pit are pipes that will sometimes freeze over causing the gun to shut down. The tool to fix this is a propane torch, similar to those used to burn weeds. We find #3 guy laying in the bottom of the pit, unresponsive, but with the torch off.  (The actual 'pit' was two tables stacked on top of each other in a corner.)  Looked safe. So 'down' my friend goes to check him out.

"Ok,"  Bear says to my buddy, "so halfway down you lose consciousness and you too are unresponsive.  Zane?  Now what do you do?"

In the back of my head I say to myself,  'I wanted to stay put.' But on the flip side, had I not gone, the consequences of that choice would have been all the harder. Here I was in complete control of what to do next. A propane torch in a non-ventilated concrete box, and  gas had filled the pit. Stop and think.  Don't make a stupid mistake.  I asked if I could contact Mountain Rescue, which the answer was yes.  Perfect. I 'called' them and told them where I was, and what I knew for sure, and was told to monitor the situation.

Simulation end.


Debrief


"How many of you watch Star Trek?" Bear asked.

I raised my hand, being one of  a few people that did the same.

"Who has heard of the Kobayashi Maru?"

This time it was just my hand that raised. I got bonus points for that, in fact during the exercise I thought what we were doing was very similar to what Captain Kirk had done. My situation was also a no win scenario:  do we deal with the thought that our buddy is in trouble and wait for help?  Or do we go after him in a valiant, yet possibly suicidal, effort?

We walked back toward the classroom for the rest of the debrief. I asked what really was the best way to handle the situation. It was to call Mountain Rescue, and stay put. I then asked should I have stayed at base?  Or should I have gone  with my friend like I did?  Bear said the choice was up to me.  The machines were shut off, and he was going to go, so me going with him was also okay.  As it turned out, it was a good thing that I had gone. If I had decided to stay behind, things could have gotten worse.  Much worse.

"So Zane," Bear says, rehashing as we walked back into the room, "you received a check in on the radio 15 minutes ago saying that the sled had been found but that was all the info you were given. Now you have two lost guys and the weather is here.  What do you do?"  I inform Mountain Rescue of the recent events and tell them that my guess was that the two team members were together somewhere but both unable to communicate. Next would be an update to my supervisor (who wouldn't pick up) and I would remain where I was so that I don't make things worse.  It could have played out like that. It would have gone from bad, to worse, to nightmarish... had this not been a class. But it was a valuable class. The biggest thing that we learned was to CYA.  And the A's of your team.  Always.

My peers looked at me differently at the end of class.  They had been sitting in the room, knew what had 'happened' and watched how my and my buddy reacted to the whole thing. Bear created a healthy amount of stress that made it hard to think rationally.  It felt like I had been triple sat at the restaurant in the waiting table days.  I reminded my self that it was "just" a game.  A game that had I not learned valuable lessons for future usage could have dire consequences.

I am looking forward to these classes now.  If this is what college is like then I am really going to like it.

Z

Waddington Trip Report; Part 3; Into the Movies

A New Pace

There are three rules of the mountains: things are always farther than they appear; things are always steeper than they appear; and things are always harder than they appear. It was time to go from the forest to the mountains, and the only way to do that was up. After getting into rope teams, we set out to climb the pass. Traveling in a rope team is therapeutic.  You're still connected to your teammates and yet you are totally absorbed in your own thoughts. Just the crunch of the snow beneath your boots.

The hands of my watch spun onward.  The next time I checked, the little hand had circled three times. During those three hours we kicked up toward the clouds, and the view when we crested was unbelievable. Mountains in front of us formed a majestic wall of numerous assent possibilities.  The clouds hid the valley floor from us.  The WHY all came rushing back to me. I had spent so many hours laboring away to get to THIS point.  It all culminated in THIS moment. It was so much better than I had ever dreamed. It was... simply amazing.

The climber in me started thinking that traveling on snow was more safe than rock climbing. 'Safety' is an interesting notion because nothing is absolutely safe in the mountains.  Like life, there are no guarantees. At first I was concerned that moving on snow would be less protected than climbing on rock. That's simply not the case. When tied into a rope team, each team member creates protection for the others in the event of a fall.  Unlike climbing protection (helmet, rope, etc) each 'piece' of protection - each person - is moving in tandem and always looking for ways to keep the team safe.


Blinding Clarity 

As we worked to master the art of trudging, my mind wandered to what we had done up to that point. It was then that a startling realization set in. When we traveled in rope teams there were times where one MUST NOT FALL. I began to understand exactly how dangerous a hobby I had chosen. Anything in the mountains has the potential to be very dangerous. There were many times on this trip where my only thought was 'this is a no fall zone'.  Just that simple.  Fate stepped in to underline the point.

I received a text from my climbing partner back home saying that she was pretty shaken.  Having only seen her rattled once, I was very concerned and 'protect mode' kicked in. After numerous texts and a phone call, enough of the pieces were in place for me to understand. While taking a few friends climbing the previous weekend, the unthinkable happened.  A rope slid through the system, dropping the climber the remaining 60 or so feet to the ground. His pelvis was broken, but no spinal injury to my partner's knowledge. The climber landed 10 feet from where my friend was standing, and she was understandably traumatized.

No one person was at fault; however both sides should have claimed responsibility for the accident. The leader for not knowing how much rope was needed for the route, and the belayer for not being aware of how much rope he had left.

After coming back from the trip where we had one evacuation and a couple of very close calls, I now have new clarity on just how dangerous the mountains can be. You have to be on your A game the entire time, from parking lot to parking lot. And a  more scary thought than that is you could do everything right and it could still all go wrong. When you take someone out with whom to share your passion, you are also their protection, the resident expert. Be prepared as best you can.

Be safe out there.


Z

Waddington Trip Report; Part 2; The Broken Fellowship

Change of Plans

As the first ration period came to a close, fatigue began to set in. Even though the map shows less then 15 miles from the start to where we were, our bodies and minds were worn down. Setting up camp was becoming easier. Cooking was not as scary as the first few days, and we felt that we were moving more efficiently.

The map said that we were close to making it out of the s'wack, and spirits were up. In the early afternoon we reached the first snow of the trip. All heartache from the first few days was forgotten as we had finally entered the mountains.

Sort of...

Turns out there was a few more miles to be covered before we reached the pass, but we didn't care. We were now graduates from Bushwhack Academy; Twist Creek certified. Continuing onward, we slid onto the snow slope, traversed scree and boulder fields, and went through the remaining alder where we rested on snow.  We were tired, but excited.

It was not, however, all smiles. Over the previous couple of days one of our team members had an issue with one of her feet. Enough that the team helped take weight so it would be easier to travel. The decision was made to make camp down by the river and call it a day.


It was exactly what the doctor ordered: a good night's sleep, good food, and warm clothing. Life was good. Good. but not perfect. The student that was having foot problems had to be evacuated. An unseen mist fell over camp, thick and heavy, threatening to choke the group's momentum. One of the team was leaving. We still had time to say our goodbyes, but it still hit us hard.

There are no trails where we were, and certainly no roads. To get where we were required the gift of flight. A helicopter is the perfect vehicle for this, able to land and take off anywhere flat, and shuttle people and equipment where it needs to be.

As one might imagine, paying for the services of a helicopter is not cheap. The original plan was to climb the pass and have the helicopter drop food off at an agreed upon location. Climbing would be easy because we would have two days worth of food in our packs. Like any plan, it never survives first contact. Revised plan was for the second food ration to be flown in, then they would evacuate the student. Time was passed learning a few knots, and our first day of snow school.

After being taught how to use the ice ax for self-belay, we practiced self-arrest. Both are techniques that would keep us safe when we moved on the snow. The sun marched ever onward and soon left the sky hues of blue and gray. The unseen mist settled back over the camp. Before we knew, it we were watching our friend fly off, There was nothing left to do but press onward.


In Retrospect

It's warm inside, and gentle lighting sets the atmosphere as the flavors of the coffee slide across your palette. Home, this is home. You could travel to a different coffee shop, order the same thing, doctor it the same way, and yet it would not be the same. That's how it felt in the days after the student left. The group was ready to get out of that camp and climb the pass between us and the glaciers, but would have traded it all to keep the group together.

As Mandeep, our Indian guide often said:   "It be that way sometimes."


First Game of the Season

The Life Giver, the Sun, marched in from the East. We dawned our heavy packs and moved with new energy. After a quick two hours, and a crash course in rope team travel, we topped the ridge to a snowfield that led us to the pass.

We had covered a lot of ground that day and ended up spending the night just above the snow ramp. We were scared, and on edge to be sure, but we were loving it. That day was 12 hours in the saddle but all went well. After choosing a camp site and probing the area for safety, we set about putting camp together for the night.

It was no longer a dream.  After so many days in the weeds, to be here was incredible. Everything went so well the first day on the snow in rope teams. Hot cocoa fought with the cold as I stood looking out over the setting sun.  I watched as the mountains turned into dark shadows, back lit with yellow, then red, then pink. Life was good. Next order of business: UP.


Z

Waddington Trip Report; Part 1; Trail of Weeping Eyelets

So Far, So Good

I was amazed.  For the most part everything thus far had gone according to plan. Getting to my flight was painless. Changing my bus ride because of airplane delays was just as simple. I had a good meal  (my last one for a while), and had helped a fellow NOLS student out in the process.

Huh. Things never go this smoothly.

The 1st morning arrives, and there is a mad scramble to repack so we are ready for to roll when the van pulls up. There were a couple of trips going out on the same day, one to the Waddington Range, the other was a nine day backpacking trip along the coast. We got the usual welcome speech culminating in breakfast.

Next thing that I know, we are packed into a van and a pickup truck headed north. Two days later, we arrive at the campsite because the 'trail head' was still a few hours away. The first night in a tent, with three other people whom I had never met, went pretty well.  The next morning, we were in the car bright and early to get to the REAL step one.

So far, so good.


From the Frying Pan...


The van and truck disappeared and it started to sink in that we are all in for what ever lies ahead. Our tent group was shown how to work the stove and pack our bags.

Packs on backs and off we go.

If it is true that a butterfly's wing beat can change things on the other side of the world, then that could be a plausible explanation as to how things moved so quickly. We were so eager, ready to move, stoked to be there, but... little did we know what was coming.

I decided right then and there that I would not give up. No matter what happened, I would not stop.  It's a good thing I made that choice because right out of the gate we had a river crossing. Turns out that our boots - our $500 boots - weren't water proof. As the sun was setting in the distance, we found camp and had a moment where we were unsure exactly what we had gotten ourselves into...

With the night still young we crawled into our bags knowing that we would start the next day cold, and that we would hike the next few days with wet feet. Our socks were soaked.  The boots had a leather and foam liner for "warmth" that acted as a big sponge for river water. The outside of the boots would dry, and water would seep out of the eyelets,  It looked like the boots were crying.


...and Into the Fire


The next few days were Bushwhack Academy 101. Imagine weeds - TALL weeds - not trees, but not ground cover either. Just tall enough that you can't see over them. And thick enough that the dead fall beneath your feet can't be seen. That doesn't even begin to describe what lay all around us. In an eight hour day, we covered three, maybe four miles distance as the crow flies.

It was miserable, but we soldiered on.

It was slow progress, but the team didn't quit or give up. We crossed one more major river, finally getting to the correct side that would allow us to go up and over the pass between us and the mountains.


Reflection

Right off the bat the team dynamic was good. Ten plus hours in a van helped us mesh. After five days of bushwhack, we all knew that there was something about this group that would allow us to do great things. It was encouraging to know that the culture we would create was going to be strong and healthy. The perfect environment for learning. It would be hard, but we knew it was going to be worth it. And so we trudged on toward the mountains that had captivated us for so long.






Keeping You In the Loop

The Waddington Trip Reports are the final posts that started with the NOLS Dispatches. If you would like to read the entire story you will find the first dispatch under the January 2016 tab. If you enjoyed the story please post the url on your social media of choice so others may read my story.


Thanks,

K

NOLS Update

Hello friends,

Can not wait to share my experiences with you it's been a great month and will break the trip report in to a handful of posts.

K

NOLS Dispatch; Issue 8; The Friendly Stranger

Just Around the Corner

It is almost here, finally. The realization hasn't really set it yet but it will. The alarm will go off on the morning of the flight before I know it. Waiting tables has gotten easier and is becoming enjoyable. There will not be any posts for the next month as I will be out of the country. However, there will be dispatches after I return sharing my experience with you,


Time for a Story

Let me describe what happened to night at one of my tables. After the rest of the party arrived and the meal was ordered it became a waiting game. About 20 minutes after the the last dish was cleared they asked about the to go meal that they had ordered to go. That I had completely forgot about. After reassuring them that the food was going to be ordered, and apologizing for not placing it sooner I went about my way. My manager asked that I make sure that everything was good before they left. It wasn't. In my haste to get the food out, I ordered the wrong item. Strike three. Instead of exploding on me for my mistakes, he tipped me on the main course, the first order, and then the corrected order. It was all that I could do to keep from crying right there in fount of him. He said that it was the right thing, and despite the fact that the order was messed up, he saw the effort to make it right. Even though I felt that I didn't deserve what turned out to be 25% tip, he insisted.

I want to be that kind of guy, someone who can bless those around him despite the little things. I want to be the friendly stranger to those that interact with me. It is a goal that I strive for.

I will post again after I return from my NOLS trip.

K

NOLS Dispatch; Issue 7; Heaven in HD

Just Around the Corner 

Some people would claim that it is impossible to see heaven. That it is untouchable. Unknowable. I disagree. I can witness heaven when ever I want, well, when ever I have 4G. Peaks from far away lands beckon, perfect lines in champagne powder send chills down my spine. It is only when the credits role am I snapped back into reality as hard as any lead fall. Even as the letters appear on this screen, my thoughts drift to the mountains, where my heart longs to be.

Graduation was over a week ago. The time has been spent working, working furiously to put together enough for the next semester. College will be a reality, but the bank may have an account that reads zero dollars when the first bell rings.

Its the feeling right before you kiss your new someone, the butterfly sense that inhabits your stomach with the first turns of the new ski season. The work has been done to get there. Buried deep inside all of us is the sense that even if it all goes wrong, things will turn out to be more then ok when we are pursuing what we are passionate about.

In the madness to acquire the resources that are needed to go to college, the thought crossed my mind, 'cancel your NOLS trip', NOLS would send me most of the money back and would cover all of my first semester costs with some left over.

The idea was quickly discarded.

Four years of my life have been spent gathering the money, like a squirrel gathers food for the winter. It has all been put together, and it is less then 3 weeks away.

My heaven is not going to be the HD screen of my phone. It will be the polarized, 3 dementional, larger then life. reality that will merely be sampled this summer. It will kindle a fire that will burn for the rest of my life. I can hardly wait to get there.


K

Almost Done

I'm in my last hour of high school. I'm so excited and ready to move on. Just thought I should record the moment.

K

Base Camp; Issue 3; Tears of the Past

Final Paragraphs

Last night was a rough night, it was my last concert at Arapahoe High School. Someone hit pause and gave me a flashback to where I was 4 years ago. Arapahoe had three choirs that I could try out for. The week after auditions my name appeared on the board that had made it in. Just thinking that I might have missed the best class of my life had I not taken my teacher up on her dare to try out. Being the new freshman choir was intimidating, but my mind was made up that I would help where ever I could. While a concert looks simple, the work behind the curtain getting everything ready became the niche that needed to be filled.

People trickling out of the auditorium and the stage dark for the final time, the Battle Hymn sung, my time is done. My favorite part was as I was crossing the stage the lights went out as if to say, 'Thank you for the work that you have done,' and my friend darkness comforted me.

I wont sing on that stage again, nor will I oversee risers being assembled, but I leave the program knowing that I have left it in better shape then it was my first day. I cried, and cried, and cried some more. Someone asked me if I was ok, and it was then that I realized that they were tears of joy, not of sadness. I made friendships that I never thought I had, and acquired memories that I will never forget.

I would not trade these last four years for anything.

K

Base Camp; Issue Two

A Quick Update

It seems that we want what we can't have. An interesting thought, and yet one that keeps recurring.

Interesting.

K

NOLS Dispatch; Issue 6; Taking the Camera Out

The Final Breath in the Dark

I am now officially 13 days from graduation. As this chapter is coming to a close, there are so many things that have to be finished, and at the same time could go unfinished and unthought of. I'm not sure anymore. The path seemed to be so certain, so well thought out that it was fool proof. The thoughts of passed dreams left to be forgotten speak up from the darkness; the fireman severing the community, the soldier sacrificing for his country to name a couple. What really chews at my insides is that what I think that my life may be changed a dozen more times before the pieces fall into place. Can and will be changed. 'I don't know' has become the answer that I turn to most, and the one that scares me. More because the unknown is unknown, and undefinable, and by definition, undefined and while society says we can craft it into what ever we want. I believe that the moment has been chosen, and has yet to be discovered. But like any discovery, it can be of surprise or of horror depending on what you thought you might find.  In the video it talks about presuming ones passion but also being able to redefine what the pursuit looks like. 

In Conclusion

The next 3 months will fly by so quickly I will soon be reading this post from my dorm room in Leadville thinking, 'where has the time gone?'. I hope to be able to says that I took everything in that I could, tried new things, and made honest mistakes. I want to be pushed beyond my limits and over come them. To be a light to the broken hearted, while letting my own heart pulse with the seasons. To affect the world, and let the world affect me. As part of enjoying the moment I will write blog posts, a permanent record of my growth. 

Hope you enjoyed the video.

K

Base Camp; Issue One

The First Day on the Job

After working as a host for 5 months, my server training is completed and my first shift done. It went ok, didn't do so hot on the first table, but my team members had me covered. I thought they would through me to the wolves, but they didn't. Every once in a while something happens, or someone comes around, that reminds me to continue to chase my dreams.

I didn't think that it would come from work.

My last table of my shift was exactly that. She was from the West coast on a business trip with a little sight seeing while she was here. After chatting for a time, she promised to read my blogs, and she was very enthusiastic about her future trips.

For some time now I have been toying with starting a series to record when I have been revived and re-inspired to continue. The series will be called Base Camp. A nod toward the home away from home. The purpose of a base camp while you are outside is to; provide a safe haven to store unnecessary equipment, provide shelter in nasty weather, and a safe place to return to after a long day, or days, on route. A metaphorical stretch to be sure, but not unreasonably so.

K

NOLS Dispatch; Issue 5; The Small Step Theory

Trail and Error

One of the perks of living in Colorado is that the weather swings between winter and summer. High if 70 one day, snowing the next. As the skiing season is coming to a close, and the weather is getting nicer, climbing becomes my preferred method of meditation. I agreed to do a multipitch 5.7 lead with a friend of mine. At the top of the first pitch the exposure was getting to me, as a mental break down attacked my conscious. After staring at my first piece of protection I asked to be lowered to the belay so I could wrangle my thoughts. My partner encouraged me to stop looking for a handhold and find a foothold instead. Sure enough, as soon as I stopped looking for a handhold I had no more problems. It wasn't until later that I connected the dots, my success was due to lots of tiny steps, not dynamic moves or strength. That wasn't the first time that taking things slow and steady had worked for me. I recently have started running two or three times a week and really enjoy it. I approached running differently then I had before. There are two things that have to happen for me to have a successful run, have fun, and don't worry about how long it took me. As the miles passed, I experimented with my stride, landing heal first and striking the ground with different parts of my foot until it became comfortable. Now I land right behind the ball of my foot and none of my joints hurt. The other thing that quickly became apparent was that the shorter my stride, the easier it was to continue to move. A small change, but it has changed how I run.

It was at the top of the third pitch that things clicked and the Small Step Theory was formulated. The theory is that the smaller the steps you take, the easier and less stressful the process will be. Not an original idea to be sure, but one that fell into place. There has not been an application that this hasn't worked on.  I'm excited to apply this to other portions of my life. Just take things one small type at a time.

I'm glad I figured this out, finally.


K

Check It Out

One day I want to be at this level.

K

Mountain Athletics

Public Service Announcement

The North Face, possibly the most recognized outdoor brand in the United States, is revamping what training for success in the mountains looks like. They call it Mountain Athletics. The philosophy is this, the mountain doesn't care what shape you are in, how far you get, or what you do, it will be there tomorrow and the next day and so on. The goal is to train people for their desired field of interest so that when the season comes, they are physically and mentally prepared to give the mountains their best shot. What stands out most to me about this, is that they have now given the tools to the weekend warrior to train in the off season, so that they are ready to play when the time comes. One does not have to be a sponsored athlete to have access to the same training that the professionals use. Now all it takes is commitment to the program. I imagen that other companies will release their own versions of Mountain Athletics or join North Face to help all outdoor enthusiasts preform better. Either way, the tools are now out there to help you get where you want to be.


Food for thought.


K

NOLS Dispatch; Issue 4; The Second Wind

Time For Reflection 

It amazes me how often events play out similar to this; I become passionate about something, go all in, then slowly move what ever it is onto the back burner.

But that's not what amazes me.

What amazes me is that someone says something, or does something that reignites that passion. These blogs for example. I went into Kastner Family Chiropractic to have my back realigned, it feels so much better, thanks Doc, and came out recharged and re-inspired to continue blogging about what I love. I've started running for both pleasure and to add a little cardio to my routine and at first it was hard. I didn't have the right shoes, all I had was heart. It slowly became easier and less painful, then it became fun and I miss the days that I don't run. I now have added running 14ers to my list of things I want to do when I'm 60 as well as skiing and climbing to name a few. I want to enjoy the process but also look forward to the future and plan for that as well. It also occurred to me that I enjoy writing my blogs. I needed to be reminded of that. Thanks to all that helped inspire me today and in the days to come.


K

NOLS Dispatch; Issue 3; The Telemark Affect

The Telemark Affect


I tried a new type of skiing this weekend, telemark, a free heel style that is more fluid then downhill. It was one of the toughest days mentally that I have had in a while. Nothing seemed to be working, no matter what I tried, or how much my muscles burned, it was frustrating. My second run of the day went a lot better. I'm glad I knew how to ski parallel as it allowed me to try new things but still remain in control. Right in the middle of that run, I had three turns that were perfect. The feeling was of pure bliss, it just flowed, one leg sliding in front of the other, I got so excited I fell over. By that time my legs were gone, and I could hardly stand, but the rest of the day I chased that feeling of bliss.


In the movie Treasure Planet the cyborg, when talking about his mechanical half, said, "you give up a few things, chasing a dream," and as college is coming up I start to wonder what path I want to take. Do I want to live the dream, or make enough money to live comfortably and recreationally live my dream that way. I'm in Dave Ramsey's FPU and have learned that one can live comfortably with a modest income, I don't have to make hundreds of thousands of dollars a year. I want to chase that feeling, not of success but of bliss.

The big issues is I don't yet know how that translates to the 'real world'. I will cross that bridge when I get there, but I am really excited to overcome this new challenge.


K

Check In

My heart aches.

K

Night

I Just Don't Know

Just when the skys were clearing, an unforeseen overcast afternoon sets in. Two of my friends are going through relationship rough spots, and I am trying to help both of them and figure it out for myself. They are each asking good questions about what happened and I give them an answer, but they both know that I don't know any more then they do. I keep thinking that things will get better, that my heart will stop aching, but it hasn't. I thought the path would become clear, but no illumination has appeared. My heart aches, for what reason I don't even know but it knows something is wrong. I hope this time will pass, in fact I know it will, but I wish it would hurry up. There is no clear path forward. I aught to be happy, but I am not, not quite. I know I am loved, but I don't feel it. I want to find a partner and not be used. I want to cry, and scream, and laugh, and yell and jump and run away and fight. I want to know, but I know I never will.

I'll go to bed and think it over but I have a sickening feeling that this feeling will be here for a while.


K

Dave Ramsey Said So

A Short Thought 

Seeing a friend struggle with something, always boils my water. Sometimes they let me in, other times they keep it to themselves. If you find friends like that, hang onto them.

Watching classmates cut up their credit cards in my Financial Peace University class I smiled, knowing I'd never have to do that. I used to see money as a bad thing, but now it has become my greatest ally. After getting out of a long distance relationship, where the only thing that was wrong was the mileage. Dad had one of his teaching moments. Which always nerve racking, and this video started off no differently. I didn't give it much of a chance, but it boiled down to the question; 'is it wise?' and if its not, don't do it.

Such a simple question. I can't believe that I had never thought of that before. That is the definition of using common sense. If the answer is it's not wise, then you aren't invested in bettering yourself.

My introverted self needs social interaction, but it is not interested in large group gatherings. The question that begged to be asked is, do I want a girl friend. Yes, but being a senior means that there are only 3 more months before life takes are each person their own way. After today the other question that has to be asked is, is it wise. Unfortunately, the answer is not, or more accurately, not yet. The big thing that my finance class has taught me is that your income is your biggest ally, and debt is your biggest enemy. College is looming on the horizon and my goal is to pay it off before graduation day. Finishing high school is my first priority, and my full time job. Working as a host, is good, but it doesn't bring in enough money to save for college and lead the life style I want to lead. More money has to come in the door. Live like no one else, so you can live like no one else, that's how Mr. Ramsey might say it. Translation, work hard now so when college is over I walk with a diploma, and debt free.

There is work to be done.

It's going to be a sprint to the finish, but marathons were never my strong suit.

Life is looking up, and I'm excited and nervous but ready to set out on this journey.


K

NOLS Dispatch; Issue 2

End of an Era

In the quest for success, and ultimately, happiness, we often get run over and over run others. The greater the pursuit, the more likely that someone slighted us or was slighted by us. If time is just a measurement, how can it be good or bad? Can something be a 'good' time, or 'bad' time, is it just our reflection on our reaction that is remembered, or is there something more human about it. Nature putting our urges aside to help someone in need. This NOLS trip has been the finish line for the last four years, everything that has been done has been measured against its progress. Those who were allowed to stampede over me, and who were hurt by one of my actions all fall somewhere on that line. This chapter of my life will go out with a bang, and hopefully a summit or two while I am out of the country. We will see.



A New Day

It's exciting to be excited about going to college. The nerves are racked, and as much of the ground work has been laid as possible, and it feels like I am still missing something. After watching the new Kung Fu Panda, which focuses on inner peace, there were many connections that could be drawn from them, but the most applicable would be being self aware. This weekend my climbing mentor, his daughter, and I went to the outdoor climbing gym, North Table Mountain, outside of Golden, Colorado. We went out to just have fun and say we climbed in January. Out we went, and upon returning we tallied the routes we did, a 5.7. 5.8, and 5.9, not a bad day for just relaxing. It was just that, we went to just relax and have fun. Storing this valuable memory will remind me to keep my mind open for my NOLS trip and to simply enjoy the experience and being in the mountains.



Final Thoughts

Encouragement can come from many different places, a blog post among them. Carve out an extra 5 minutes to just sit and listen to the environment around you. Just breath and do something because you want to, not because you have to.



Happy pondering,


K