Category Archives: History

Josie

How do you say goodbye to a hunk of metal?  Quickly, as it turns out. It marks the end of an era though- my beloved VW Jetta is no longer mine. Getting married demands releasing old, embracing new. My stepdad let go of his collection of custom guitars, my brother gave up his closet-full of random electronic parts. Weddings aside, it was time and when a good dude off Craigslist made a reasonable offer, I needed to rip the bandaid off.  When you consider that she has been one of my most reliable adventure partners and an icon of my personal style- it hurts quite a bit to say goodbye to an old friend.

A few thoughts and images from our years together:

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2011, Bishop, California. The acoustic skid plate got mangled approaching a trailhead with Jordan Siemens. We pulled it off in the campground so it would stop rattling.

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2012, northern Nevada. A lucky shot while speeding home to Missoula from a trip to Yosemite. An amazing drive.

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2013, crossing the Columbia River to see friends in Portland. Josie loved driving eastern Oregon.

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2014, Missoula –> Las Vegas. Always the reliable partner, Josie worked all night to take me and Simon to Red Rocks.

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2015, Indian Creek, Utah. Josie always acted taller than she looked. Dodging potholes, or plowing up to an ice climb, she was always game.

 

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2016, headed north from Portland to Seattle. Two reliable partners making it happen together.

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2017, North Cascades National Park, Washington. Gwen and Rich find solace past her dusty exterior. In service to others, always.

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2018, Seattle, Washington. A elegant machine. I’ll miss her badly.

That hunk of metal became much more to a young man searching for his way in the world. A bunk, a traveling companion, a resource, and a welcome relief at the end of a long walk in the woods. A social gathering and medium to experience so many good things. A dashboard confessional, confidant, jury, and judge.  I am deeply grateful for our adventures together Josie. Drive safe.

Stick the Feeling. Now. Forever.

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This one, now, forever.
On October 21, I asked Abigail to marry me and she said yes.

As an engineer, I like to plan, I like to know how things are going to go. I like to understand and reason out the effort. The theme of this blog has always been about getting the feeling of something that I can’t reason with to stick well enough to do something special.

Abigail was committed before I was- and in these matters, she trusts that feeling more than I do. Her certainty in us made asking the big question much easier. A quick review of a feeling worth trusting:

 

 

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From a more recent note to a friend, discussing the corollary of climbing commitment:
“Marriage remains a leap, truly of faith… …That climbing helps me realize this is an obvious corollary- the difference between testing the crux moves, and the moment of full bore irreversible action, while may only appear to involve a slight change in physical position- is dramatically different in mental position. That is the leap. That is the commitment.”

That real love though, the stuff that scares you with it’s durability and it’s repose, that love isn’t going to wait. It isn’t going to let you “slide into it” because it’s convenient. That real love, demands a leap. A lot like climbing, it is worth getting out of your comfort zone for, and you can’t just hang out under the crux forever. I popped the question when I accepted the joyful inevitability of her partnership with me. When I accepted that I was never going to be perfect for this relationship, and that perfection wasn’t necessary for it to be right for us.

Every crux that has demanded my full commitment, has been scary and hard. Every crux has required humility and the right partner.  And every single one, has been worth it. I’ve been climbing with the right partner for a while now, and it is nothing short of glorious to pull through this crux together.

 

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School

I admit- I smile when people ask me where I went to college. Northwestern University. The pedigree, the reputation, my ego swells. Ask me though, how I really felt about it and I’ll get smug and tell you I hated it. My professors came in two groups- conservative, arrogant, and unconcerned for the world, or perhaps liberal, arrogant, and willing to see me for the washed out music major wannabe that I was rather than who I would eventually become. I needed more hand holding than they were willing to offer, and I was too proud to get help or cheat like other struggling classmates.  I wasn’t smart enough to cut it there, and I still might not be. The raw math and fundamental concepts never came that easily to me. Instead of stepping up to the challenge, I cursed and complained. I graduated half out of spite, with bold aspirations to earn my living in the mountains, or some other way. To forget my pedigree, to forsake my intellectual inheritance.

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Showing Abigail and Michael around campus today though, I have a deep connection to this place. I’m proud of my time here, and the deep marks on my hide that remain from the struggle. Ask me now and I have an unbridled passion for engineering. The more technical, the better. Northwestern may have put the chip on my shoulder, but now I’m willing to consider that was exactly what it was supposed to do. I’m a better engineer because the experience was so damn harsh. This place has evolved too, and I see more of what I hoped it had evolved into. The friendships I built because of this place still stand- the wedding I’m in town for is proof. The projects I did then still feel cool, the lessons I learned still serve.

 

Maybe it’s time to bury the hatchet.