Friday, September 2, 2016

Letter from a Region in My Mind

Written Wednesday - August 31, 2016

Once again, I find myself sitting comfortably in Kelly's apartment in Salt Lake City. Before me lies all the gear I am planning on bringing to the John Muir Trail, which awaits me, dauntingly, at the end of this week. Tomorrow will be my last day in Utah, and honestly, I feel as though I have already outstayed my welcome. This is not necessarily because I feel that I am intruding on Kelly's hospitality and home, but rather because I feel that I should be packed and on the road heading to California, stoked and ready to hit the trail - but instead I am terrified. Will the gear I bring prepare me for the environments I am about to encounter in the Sierras? Is the knowledge I have collected these past few months of preparation adequate so that I can make the right decisions in the face of adversity? Will Mother Nature be kind as we put one foot in front of the other down dirt paths, or will she whip down harsh winds and rains or even fires to block our progress? Some of these questions are under my control and some are not. I think back to Iceland and wonder whether I was as worried then as I am now. I feel as though I was not as scared, because I had five other wonderful ladies that had packed, prepared and worked with me to help me believe that I was ready. Today, I am scared because I feel worried that I have let my partner down before evening getting on the trail. The decision to hike the John Muir Trail came quickly after I decided to take this leave of absence and with Sarah deciding to join along, I felt like I could afford to focus on all the other aspects of my time off while Sarah researched the trail to prepare us.

Sarah - If you are reading this, I love you and thank you for everything you did to get us ready for this epic adventure. I will attribute our success to your attentive and fervent fact-finding skills. I apologize that I did not plan for more time to prepare things with you side-by-side and look forward to 21 days in the wilderness together.

I became overwhelmed as I laid out each item on the floor of Kelly's apartment and realized I had to exit this space in order to clear my mind, decompress from the past few weeks and prepare for the weeks to come. I picked up "The Fire Next Time" by James Baldwin from a local bookstore and instead of catching some extra Z's, I am up late - distracted by his beautiful prose and my anxious, anxious mind. The first letter in the book is entitled, "My Dungeon Shook: Letter to My Nephew on the One Hundredth Anniversary of the Emancipation". Just as the reviews on the back cover stated, Baldwin's words are biting and raw, as his uncle makes great gestures to encourage his nephew to see past a society that plastered his destiny onto him due to the color of his skin, in order to be the man that he ought to be. The second and last letter in the book is entitled, "Down at the Cross: Letter from a Region in My Mind" (blog title). Here, Baldwin speaks on his loss of faith after a period of complete and consuming devotion. What struck me most about this loss was his acknowledgement in how his vanity played into the enjoyment he gained from preaching the word of the Lord. He felt power from loudly proclaiming his belief in God and used this power to fill voids within him. At this time, I am also reading another book called, "Toward a Psychology of Awakening", in which John Welwood comments on a practice he termed, "spiritual bypassing". This is a term associated with the tendency for those to use spirituality or faith or religion as a way to overlook deeper rooted problems by instead focusing on very particular aspects of their beliefs to attain comfort. In essence, it is the act of losing oneself in something outwardly deemed as "holy" or "good", instead of truly acknowledging or facing one's internal struggles.

Stick with me here. Some say that people find their religion on the trail. I am not sure whether this is because you are surrounded by nature at her most pure or because of the people and perspectives that you encounter, but I cannot help but wonder whether this will happen to me. This thought of spiritual bypassing somewhat brings me back to my second blog, in which I question: "If I find something on the trail that I can believe, will it be sustainable and stay with me after or will it sink into the ground from whence it came?" Will I find my religion because I will be free in the mountains without any other concerns or worries besides immediate and primal needs? Will this be an honest religion, one that I can find conviction in and live by despite any obstacles I face in the next chapter of my life? What balance will I be able to achieve in my life once I have returned to it and how can I ensure that I stay true to myself and my passions while still pursuing a challenging and fulfilling career? Does me taking these six months off of work mean that I should not take any more time off work once I return? Will I have had my fill? Should I be satisfied with what I was given and ask for no more? What changes will I have to make to how I live to reach the equilibrium I seek and what will I have to sacrifice? These big and overwhelming questions are scary to face. I fear the trail because I know that it will change me emotionally, physically and mentally - but I also embrace it and welcome it because the changes are already within me and are just waiting for the right opportunity to unfold themselves.

Once upon a time, I grew up in a small town in the most northeast county of New Jersey; today I sit, greater than 2,000 miles away from home and less than 72 hours away from a great journey. Here I am, telling myself that it is only 211 miles and there are people out there currently on mile 1,800, quietly progressing toward their objectives whether they be walking the Continental Divide, the Appalachian Trail or the Pacific Crest Trail. I am trying to reason with myself that what I am about to do is not that bad, because there are people out there doing larger and grander things. But regardless of those people out there doing those things, the John Muir Trail will be mine. My obstacle, my mountain and my valley (literally).

Who will I be on the other side?

To Have an Objective

I have always found that I can easily set goals for myself in a career oriented or academic domain, however when it comes to my life outdoors, I have remained quiet and stagnant. I believe that this is partially because I fear that I will not be able to put in enough time and effort to achieve the goals that I set for myself.

I have noticed that this fear has grown in size and that I have carried it with me throughout the duration of this trip - so what if I climbed for a month and a half straight in various spots all over the country if when I return to my hometown in the Berkshires, I will barely have enough time to climb just once a week at an indoor gym an hour away?

There is a key sentiment that I ought to apply here: If it is something that is important to you, you will make the time to prepare for it, train for it, do it, etc. But this means sacrifices and hard work - which usually I gravitate towards, but how can I adjust my schedule and lifestyle to include my love of the outdoors? To feel alive, I need to be on the sharp end, pushing my boundaries so that I can grow physically, emotionally and mentally.

Something beautiful about climbing outdoors and reaching for increasingly larger objectives is that the engineer in me geeks out at all rope systems, processes and efforts to increase efficiency. Both the Advanced Multipitch clinic up the Horns of Satan and the CAMP Light and Fast Alpine clinic proved to me that I have the basic skillset required to be successful in an alpine environment. Before you get onto the wall, there is a handful of decisions to make - How much time are we expecting to take on this route? How much water should we bring? How much food should we bring? How much and what kind of gear should we bring? If we have to bail, are both members of the team adequately prepared to work through the series of questions that may arise so that we can make an educated decision together? When tackling a long, multipitch day, one needs to be in sync with their partner in order to effectively transition gear from one person to another. Pay attention to the rope the first time you coil it so that when it comes time to dish it out for your partner, there will not be a whisper of concern in your mind that a knot or a tangle will interrupt you. Anticipate the possibilities three or four steps ahead with every piece of protection you place and anchor you build so that you are eliminating any unnecessary placements, but maximizing the safety of yourself and your partner. Consider what is an acceptable level of risk for every scenario you encounter - the more times you put yourself in this environment, the more experience you will have under your belt to make a quick and timely decision. Increased efficiency with respect to equipment to lead to a reduction in time spent creating a system is what every engineer thrives off of - it's possibly why so many engineers love this sport.

An excellent lesson that I learned during our weekend guided by Nate Smith was what if you shifted focus away from the gear and "what if" scenarios and instead focused on your fitness and your skillset. To put it mathematically, say you were climbing a 15 pitch climb. Estimate about 30 minutes per pitch for both you and your partner and maybe 12 minutes for transition. What if you had practiced your rope coiling so frequently and your knots and anchor systems so many times that instead of 12 minutes at every transition, you only took 7. You just cut down a 10.5 hour day to a 9.25 hour day. Then consider that both of you had trained for the long approach in and long approach out, cutting at least a half an hour off each end? On paper, it may not seem like much of a difference, but when you lack the efficiency and agility of a more seasoned or thoughtful climber and you are returning to your car after a 13 hour day and curling into your sleeping bag at 3am, you are going to hope to be able to get through a similar climb much faster the next time you do it. Fitness and skills are equally as important if not more important to your success and timeliness in the mountains as what you bring with you.

At the conclusion of the Salt Lake Climbing Festival, I was so motivated to get back out there and practice all the skills we had just learned that I agreed to climb with a friend from the clinic. The first lesson learned from this day was that we should have both been crystal clear about what our expectations were before even getting in the car to head to the crag, because they were not the same. Our differing expectations and our combined circumstances led us to have a mucky head space - neither of us thinking straight or communicating effectively because we had other problems and other things nagging on the back of our minds. As a result, we had a relatively dogged day - a long approach and a long descent over dirty, shifty talus fields only to spend half as much time climbing a low grade slab. Thankfully, though I was relatively frustrated for a majority of the day, our conversation about the need to be honest and transparent about our objectives before climbing with a new partner made the day worth it. It was a learning experience for both of us and though I did not always enjoy it in the moment, that's why they call climbing "Type 2" fun ;).

In any case, when I came down from climbing the West Slabs, I realized that the only way I was going to truly take as much as I could get out of every climbing trip would be to have a focus and to train. I have to do my research, read about climbs, read about destinations and get to the gym to prepare. Without setting these goals, my climbing has been more or less empty of ambition - enjoyable and occasionally challenging, but otherwise lacking passion. The last climb that I set out in my mind to tackle was Skywalker in Squamish and that was Week 1 of my climbing trip. Again, the fear had set into me - before leaving for my roadtrip, I never cracked open a guidebook and never made any plans for climbs I would have to push myself to complete. I did not want to spend hours daydreaming about climbs that I could do if I was not going to put the time in to be ready for them. While I have loved every minute of the climbing I have done these past two months, I know that I am capable of more. It's alright - everything in time, right?

Call this the first significant lesson learned from my trip - to have an objective is a healthy and genuine way to attain fulfillment and stretch yourself to reach goals previously unforeseen. Without objectives, what are you really reaching for? It would be like waving haphazardly at holds above your head without looking at them or charging into a 5k with no training but being angry at yourself for not having a better time. To have an objective is to make the most out of the sand as it slips through the hour glass. To have an objective is to have meaning. To reach an objective is...

A Sprinkle over Bastille

Saturday - August 20, 2016

It was with great success that Katie and I drove from Slade, Kentucky to Ft. Leavenworth, Kansas. I was happy to be back at Sheila's and Katie was excited for an opportunity to meet more of my friends. When we arrived, Sheila had us all set up and gave us time to get a shower in while she prepared an incredible dinner for us - breakfast casserole! So many delicious things in this meal - we were both very grateful for her hospitality. I could not think of a better way to end a day of climbing and getting caught in the rain than freshly clean and in a comfortable bed, in a comfortable home.

Sunday - August 21, 2016

No matter what I do, I can never manage to get a quick start out of Sheila's home. The company and the comfort make it so difficult to leave and when we did finally leave, we were sent packing with the most extravagant set of roadtrip snacks I had ever had - 4 egg salad sandwiches, 2 PB&J sandwiches, 2 bags of carrots, 1 bag of celery, 2 bags of grapes, 2 donuts, 2 cinnamon raisin bagels and the biggest bag of oatmeal butterscotch cookies there ever was! Katie and I were astounded with our spread, which greatly reduced the need for us to make any snack stops. The day prior, Katie had surprised me by powering through five straight hours after my shift and so I decided to return the favor on this day, particularly because of how flat and uneventful Kansas is. I had a feeling it would not be a very inspiring drive for Katie, but for whatever reason I never mind the drive through this state.

We arrived quite late in Boulder with just enough time to run to a nearby fast food spot to pick up some burgers for dinner. We all sat around the kitchen table, gazing helplessly into nothingness, as fatigue ate away at our attention span while we ate our food. I was at the point of over-exhaustion, therefore sleep did not come quite as easily, however it came soon enough to carry me away into the night.

Monday - August 22, 2016

Before I even shut my eyes the night before, I knew that I would not want to wake up early the next morning. Every day the week before had been a mad dash to the crag to beat the rain, and even though the drive to climbing is further in Boulder than it had been at the Red, I was much less inclined to have any early starts if I could help it. Colleen, Katie and I headed to the Taco Wagon for deliciously wonderful breakfast burritos. While they waited for our food, I perused the Latin market next door and managed to finagle some Mango nectar out of the kind owner, who had to hunt in the storage room in the back of the store for the drink I was craving. Next, we headed to Proper Grounds where we loaded up on our caffeine for the day. After a quick trip to a local outing store, Katie and I were armed with guidebooks on Boulder Canyon and Eldorado. Today, we headed to Boulder Canyon to seek out a classic 5.8 line that Katie had been eyeing off of Mountain Project. I had warned Katie that finding climbs in Boulder Canyon is often a disaster because everything is so concentrated that you often spend at least an hour, driving up and down the highway trying to find the correct pulloff and the correct wall. When we did finally find the pulloff, I was surprised to find that it was the same exact lot that I had parked at when I had visited Boulder Canyon about one year ago. On that occasion, Jacquie, her friend Jen and I, also got lost, having pulled off at the wrong gravel lot and wandering aimlessly up bushy hills for an obvious trailhead. That day had ended with us still being unable to find the climb we were looking for and spending it all on one route, where we ended up teaching each other rope systems and route cleaning (so still a great day!) before saying "Screw it! Let's go get some beer!". Therefore, I was just a smidgeon smarter today than I was the year prior. After getting only a little off track, we successfully found the climb we were looking for. There was a pair just finishing up the climb which gave us enough time to rack up and flake the rope out. As Katie took the first lead, I hungrily eyed the climb, settling into the idea that this route was exactly my style of climbing. I can honestly say that this climb was one of the first climbs in which I felt completely amped, completely prepared and fully fueled to run right up it - which is exactly what I did. I was so excited about the route, in fact, that I decided to lead it again to get some more mileage in to make up for our late start. We moved over to a 5.9+ line around the corner and after working through the interesting beginning sequence, I similarly flew up this route. Needless to say, I was feeling a bit cocky. As the clouds persisted overhead, we moved to a second 5.9+ route that completely blew my cool and had me cursing the entire way up. It is incredible to see such differences in climbs that are essentially right next to one another - where I had just sent two great climbs feeling exactly in my zone, I was immediately brought back down to earth, climbing tentatively and feeling off balance and insecure with every step. I was thoroughly grateful to be done with the route when it was over and after Katie ran up it (equally hating it), we headed back down the trail to jump in the car and drive back home.

That evening Katie and I had a great night of conversation, left to our own designs since both Jacquie and Colleen had to head to sleep. It's incredible to find such parallels with someone you had never really known, who grew up 3,000 miles away from you and yet ended up living a similar lifestyle with similar life experiences. Leave it to climbing to bring you together with the most interesting people you will ever meet.

Climbs ticked: Animation aka Jaycene's Dance (Sport 5.8), Unfamiliar Strangers (Sport 5.9+), Is It Ready Yet...Moe (Sport 5.9+)

Tuesday - August 23, 2016

We stumbled upon a rest day without ever expecting it! We both woke up completely exhausted. I was grateful to find that we were both on the same page and had zero desire to climb up anything at all. Today was devoted to errands and we spent most of it driving all around Boulder, checking out the multitude of gear shops and then crashing back home. In the evening, Colleen, Katie and I got some Thai food for take-out and we happily sat on the couches, lounging, eating and watching Dope starring Shameik Moore. Though it has only been just over one month and one week since I left for my road trip, try as I might, I could not rack my brain enough to remember the last time I sat down and watched an entire movie from start to finish. Days like these are truly gems, to be treasured and enjoyed to the fullest.

Wednesday - August 24, 2016

Today, we would take the Bastille. We headed to Santiago's, a place Colleen had highly recommended to me for breakfast burritos, and got our orders in while Katie meandered down the road to find a coffee shop. The drive was quick and we were glad to see the parking lot essentially empty as we pulled in. As I clipped cams, nuts and draws to my harness, the wind began to pick up and droplets of rain began to sprinkle down. We approached the route and I had an internal battle roiling inside of me - because I was the only one in our pair to be able to lead trad, the success of our day lay completely on my shoulders. I traded my hesitation for pure stubbornness and decided to jump right onto the climb despite the rain. As I moved from the infamous flake into the hand crack, I realized what all the comments on the Mountain Project page had been talking about - this was a hand jam, thru and thru. With sweaty palms, moist holds and unsure feet, I worked my way up the crack then took a whip (WHIPPER WEDNESDAY...!) on my .75 cam. Though the fear of falling was now behind me, I still cursed my life choices as I continued to glacially move up the climb. I felt ridiculous for taking so long with every move, but the moisture in the rock drained me of the confidence in my ability and I had no choice but to take it slow. Thankfully, the climbing got easier and drier as we continued higher and higher. As our elevation increased, so did our excitement when we realized that we were really doing the climb despite the poor weather. The climbing was beautiful, easy enough to move with confidence yet requiring enough balance and technique to test your resolve. I linked up several pitches to make up the time lost on the lower sections and was happy to shimmy my way up the final chimney to a crack where I could belay Katie up. We were full to the brim with adrenaline as we made our way down the wandering descent past cables and sideways, sawtooth cuts in the rock. When we hit the dirt trail, we were approached by a woman who claimed to have taken several photos of us while we were on the Bastille. Soon we broke into a conversation with her and her husband to find that we were all from the same county in New Jersey and, in fact, had the same favorite restaurant in my hometown! Thrilled at having made such as discovery, we continued to chat and Katie and I did our best to explain some of the mechanics behind rock climbing while using active or passive protection.

We headed back to Boulder, picking up a six pack along the way. The door was locked, so we ended up cracking open our Lefthand Nitro's, like the pair of dirtbags we were, drinking on the stoop in a pleasant townhome conglomeration, listening to A$AP Rocky and waiting for Jacquie to come home. We told her of her exploits and soon after we were back on the road, headed to the Post to see Colleen in her element and get some grub for dinner. We were seated in the back, which was all for the best since as we ordered our drinks and food and Colleen continued to spoil us with more goodies, we became incessantly rowdy (particularly Jacquie and I). I give the credit to Jacquie, who very cleverly and hilariously called me out on my excuse for not knowing particular terms or media references because I am a first generation American. Our table was a riot and we had to be chauffeured home by Katie, who had to finagle her way back to the house in Jacquie's crumbling car. I cannot remember the last time I laughed so ferociously and I was happy to spend my last night in Boulder, feeling fuller from the laughter, although that may have just been all of the fried chicken we ate.

Thursday - August 25, 2016

What were our first stops before heading on the road to Salt Lake City? Why, Proper Grounds for a Cortado and the Taco Wagon, of course! Loaded down with some gifts for our next host, we exchanged big hugs with Colleen, who escorted us to our favorite coffee shop. I decided to step up my burrito game and get something more lunch appropriate and we took on the highway, driving westward to see Kelly in Salt Lake.