Category Archives: People

2013 In Review

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Photo: Amy O'Toole.

Photo: Amy O’Toole.

I’m grateful to say that if nothing else, the sorrows and successes of 2013 have been real. A quick review of everything:

Went to Australia. Saw family. Deepened old friendships, made new ones. Climbed. Played. Smiled.

John, Otto, and Manly Beach, NSW.

John, Otto, and Manly Beach, NSW.

Traveled back to Missoula, and liked that I came back here. Found love. Finished some great projects. Wrote a website. Loved winter.

Sceptre is in fat...

Winter. Winter. Winter.

Climbed. Skied. Hurt. Worked until I couldn’t anymore. Fought for an engineering license and lost. Lost some clients. Lost love. Lost myself.

Get it... in a boot.

Get it… in a boot.

Had foot surgery. Learned about love, and myself. Waited.

We are enough.

We are enough.

Celebrated summer. Celebrated this place. Celebrated climbing again, and better. Celebrated my profession.

Getting back into it.

Getting back into it.

Found Wyoming. Found the roots, and the crown, of my experience in the wilderness. Found the perfection in imperfection.

Huge shout to Bryan and the Feather Buttress.

Huge shout to Bryan and the Feather Buttress.

Got older. Got more honest. Got excited about winter. Got back to Chicago.

2013-12-27 16.39.50

Also, can’t talk about this year without credit to the soundtrack for it. 2013- it’s been real. To 2014, I say “yes!”

2014 is the question. Yes is the answer.

2014 is the question. Yes is the answer.

Homegrown

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We're not in Montana any more.

We’re not in Montana any more.

I walked casually through the Depaul University campus. The evening was mild for December in Chicago, and it felt good to take a little extra time to notice the classic architecture and urban vitality of the campus. Exploring the northside on foot with friends was standard entertainment throughout high school and college. I love the trees in the city, oddball shops, and ethnic restaurants that are best discovered on foot and over deep conversations. It’s fun to feel the parts of myself that are homegrown.

“The Local Option” has one of the best selections of craft beer on the north-side, and has been a fun place to meet old friends. I spent last Friday night there with a few characters from various parts of my life- including two friends that I have known for over 20 years now (check them out, here and here). If I lived in Chicago now, I would still want to hang out with them just as much as I did when we were growing up.

It's not Christmas unless there is bowling.

It’s not Christmas unless there is bowling.

My 8 day trip to the midwest was challenging and affirming. Seeing my family for the first time in two years felt essential. My grandmother recently moved into a new facility in Columbus, OH that offers full service care for her advancing years. Her new digs are essential for providing peace for everyone in our family. Spending Christmas in a nursing home wasn’t ideal, but I couldn’t imagine a better or more important place to be.

My older uncle is developmentally disabled, and I’ve never felt comfortable taking the lead in providing the support he needs during family gatherings– until now. With my mom and younger uncle supporting my grandmother, stepping up was necessary. Funny that when you do it, it’s suddenly a lot easier and a lot more fun than you thought it might be.

Uncle Steve, I love you.

Uncle Steve, I love you.

There are more than a few parts of my life that I’ve avoided and concealed from sharing with my family, and in particular my parents. It hasn’t been fun, but I’ve felt it necessary as I’ve defined my own adulthood. It finally felt safe to take down some of the boundaries over this trip, and I think everyone was able to breathe a little easier when I did. Describing this trip to friends in Missoula I keep coming back to the same important point: it was the most authentic time I’ve shared with my parents in 10 years. My mom has always said- “family are the people that God wants you to have in your life that you might not choose for yourself.” Mom is right, and God is wise.

Happy holidays from the Carlson/Spies family!

Happy holidays from the Carlson/Spies family!

Give ALL the Thanks

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Why does pie say more about Thanksgiving than turkey?

Why does pie say more about Thanksgiving than turkey?

Thanksgiving has long been my favorite holiday, and not just because of the pie. The latency in posting about it was more about the fullness of the giving rather than the lack of things to give about. Per typical, there was a lot of eating. Thursday morning, Paul and I went for a run with Ky and Amanda (in from Bellingham!) and Brian, Jenna, and Claire at Blue Mountain. After cleaning up and cooking, we both headed to Harlequin Farms in Arlee. I got my winter share vegetables from the farm and a few friends were gathering to celebrate. When all your friends are foodies, Thanksgiving turns out awfully tasty…

Mega-feast.

Mega-feast.

Our stay changed from an afternoon into two days because, well… it was awesome so why go home?

Part 2- home-made pizza factory. Simon and Paul get after it.

Part 2- home-made pizza factory. Simon and Paul get after it.

After all the eating though, I needed some movement. Bad weather meant that I spent Saturday with Ky (in from Bellingham!) and Brian and Simon in the climbing gym instead of outside, but with that quality of people- I had no complaints. Sunday was a little more typical, with another short gym session and the real treat of seeing “Catching Fire” in the theater.

After the long weekend and pre-holiday professional potholes smoothed over, work felt more relaxed. When Martin pointed out that Lost Trail was going to have an epic opening, I took it as a sign to take things a little less seriously. Thursday was way better spent in the mountains than at my desk. I don’t often resort ski, but it was -11F when we left the car at 9am, and I was thankful for a warm lodge to duck into between runs. The day never got much above zero, but the snow was perfect, and I was psyched to have two solid companions (Paul jumped at the offer of a ride).

Is this really happening on a Thursday?

Is this really happening on a Thursday?

I finished off the week with a rad day in Big Fork, MT with my good friend and AERO support Jeffrey Funk. I wrote more here about one of his workshops in 2012, but this year the group was smaller, and the project a little more complicated. I may never actually get any better only practicing once a year, but hammering some iron sure is a lot of fun.

We each turned the small block on the left into the garden trowel on the right.

We each turned the small block on the left into the garden trowel on the right.

Oh yeah, and sunset at Jeff & Betsy’s is not to be missed:

Mission Mountain Magic.

Mission Mountain Magic.

I’m thankful to write this. I’m thankful somewhere in the week, I really enjoyed this TED Talk on gratitude. I’m especially thankful my life is full of so many awesome people. Keep your eyes wide open. Stop. Look for things to be thankful for. Then go- with the action that is inspired by your gratitude.

 

Flooding

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Where am I going?

Where am I going?

Wednesday morning I met my boss for coffee at our favorite place, halfway between our respective houses and the office. We talked about our profession, our decisions in life, the men’s work we’ve been doing, and everything else under the sun. My boss has become a close friend, and one of the men I admire most. I left thinking that for whatever reasons I ended up in Missoula, some time with him is probably the most important outcome of all. At some point in our conversation, I remember saying “for now, this is it. Everything that my values tell me is right, tells me to do what I’m doing right here, right now.” By many of my own definitions, this is success.

Thursday afternoon I stepped on a plane and the doubt about it all came flooding back in. “What am I doing in this little town that doesn’t mean anything?” The magazine article about the quality of life in Portland, the energy of stepping into the Seattle airport. En route to help my brother for the weekend- moving houses, and moving forward with the next big step of his life- being a dad. I feel fear that my life isn’t really moving forwards at all. It is easy to tell myself there is precious little to show for the time I’ve spent so far. I remember making this same flight on a beautiful spring evening in 2008 to stand by my brother as he committed to spending his time with an amazing woman. I fear I’ll never find that person, be able to buy a house, never save enough to travel or retire the way I’d like. That I’m spending the most important moment of my life- right the fuck now- in the wrong place, at the wrong time, doing the wrong thing. Why every time I go back to Portland, or hang out in Seattle, or fly into the Bay, there’s a piece of me that says “it’s HERE. Be here, not there, now. You’re missing it.”

Perfect San Francisco sunset.

Perfect San Francisco sunset.

More and more my time in Portland seems like a distant fantasy. I was young and excited. I didn’t waste time sleeping properly, I lived in the gym, and I breathed the future of professional innovation. Money was easy, friends were close, and any real responsibility was distant.

Totes from Good Food Store- my brother knows what I'm after.

Totes from Good Food Store- my brother knows what I’m after.

I’m not sure why this trip makes me think that in Missoula I work 90% as hard, for triple the responsibility and half the money. I think about work all the time, and even on a fun afternoon away from my desk, I can’t stay away from the next professional task. The people that matter the most are further away than ever, that my impact is constrained by the very mountains I admire on the edge of town. I’m not sure why the tech entrepreneur in the seat next to me seems lightyears ahead of me, or the vibrant foodie culture in Portland makes me doubt the importance of the CSA share I picked up on Tuesday in Missoula. I’m humbled at how infrequently I take time away from work to do things that really make me come alive. Maybe under all these fears and complaints, I’m facing the feeling that I’m not putting my time in Missoula to good use.

Things have come together this fall. Running, climbing, working, growing, and friends. Even a little more money and some new fun toys. There is always doubting the face of success. The struggle of finding the balance may be the most human part of it all.

Palm tree nightfall.

Palm tree nightfall.

Twenty Nine

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birthday party

The next step. (Photo by Brett Kvo)

(ed. note: number counts are updated as of 11/2/13)

The last day of my 29th year was a tiring one. Looking back The goals I set when I returned from Australia have mostly eluded me. Every year will have highs and lows.  Things will always be crazy and they will not go according to plan. If your goals elude you, that is a good sign they are worthy enough. The perspective of the first few days of my 30th year reminds me that it has in fact (of course), been another excellent year. Time with my Australian family, an amazing trip in the Wind River, and an increased objection to the notion of what “should be” have been a few among many highlights.

Epic birthday breakfast- thanks Paul.

Homestyle birthday breakfast- thanks Paul.

My roommate Tess and I share our birthday on October 12, and we shared simple motivations for a joint celebration- climb with friends then eat great food. Without any additional effort, the gifts of the day were very much greater.

The only thing brighter than the fall colors were the people.

The only thing brighter than the fall colors were the people.

About 10 people showed up Saturday morning to celebrate by climbing. By 7pm, our group had become a 30 person potluck extravaganza in the best way. The night ended at an awesome performance at the Top Hat, with a few more folks that didn’t make the potluck.

Polecat

Bellingham based Polecat tore the roof off an already great party.

The existential questions have always seemed to sit with me too easily – “am I working the right job?”/”hanging with the right people”/”spending my time wisely?” Being goal oriented has been part of my M.O. for as long as I can remember. I’m starting the 30th year though in a different direction. My penchant for responsibility and thrift moves me towards more experiences and fewer things. While cleaning up on Sunday, Tess’ friend Greg shared a more succinct view of aging:

“In our generation, success is more about what you have experienced than what you have bought.”

This may seem ironic given that my birthday present to myself was taking some cash out of the bank for new skis. The house I was hoping to buy next spring doesn’t really fit my goal of owning fewer things anyways. New skis and new friends bring the promise of new experience and new quality. The question of the 30th year is not “how do I do more”- it is one of “how do I do less, better.”

bernice's bakery cupcakes

Thanks mom, for reminding me to take time, let my belly out, and have fun. (Bernice’s Cupcakes!)

Treasure and Bonk

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Friday afternoons I usually cut out of work early and get out for a hike (if I’m not driving somewhere for the weekend), but this last Friday I stayed late and collapsed on my couch around 530. I had expected to drive to Leavenworth, but the weather made climbing unattractive, so my weekend was unexpectedly open. I didn’t even want to think about making plans.

About 10 minutes later I was just drifting off for a nap, when my friend Jeremy called. I was tired. “Can you be at my house right now?” [10 min away by a vigorous bike]

“What’s the gig?”

“Well it’s a treasure hunt with a historical trivia game, adventure race, and math problem inside. Oh, and there is $1000 for the winning team…”

(pause)

“But I have to be there right now?”
“No, the race is tomorrow, but we gotta strategize. And there is a pre-race meeting.”
“And we’re going to win, right?”

Todd (in helmet) sprints for the opening clues.

Todd (in helmet) sprints for the opening clues.

I have a willingness to get my rump off the couch that never fails me. That willingness is also rarely wrong, which helps. The event was “Brains and Brawn” and was a fundraiser for the Headwaters Dance Company. It may also have been the most fun single event I’ve ever done.

Headquarters for "the Prize Spies" - no team with a pirate flag can be defeated.

Headquarters for “the Prize Spies” – no team with a pirate flag can be defeated.

Todd and Amanda put the team together, and we called ourselves the Prize Spies. Amanda and Jeremy locked down basecamp to handle research and communications. Joran elected to the 20km trailrun, I jumped on the 40km bike ride, and Todd blew up his packraft to get in the river. Joran left first for the clue at the end of his run while Todd and I picked up each of 4 Missoula historical clues, the last of which sent me on a trip to the Milltown overlook state park. I picked up my clue and called Todd who was waiting to put his boat in the water. All of the clues we picked up had part of a geometry problem on it. Amanda and Jeremy solved the geometry to create a map that pointed to the treasure. With Todd and I both thrashing around on the south side of the Clark Fork for 40 minutes, the second place team had ample time to eat up the lead we had put on them in the biking. At the last minute I recognized the driftwood T, and picked up the spray painted treasure chest just ahead of team #2.

Typical sample clue.

Typical sample clue.

Finding the treasure in a neck and neck race is amazingly fun. Thanks to all the participants, but especially my amazing teammates. That was a whole lotta fun.

After the race I was still feeling spunky, so I hit the climbing gym and some ugly weights. My unexpected empty weekend was getting full fast. I raced home, grabbed a shower, made dinner with Steph, and met Simon at a party with my cello. Somehow, he convinced me that joining an epic mountain bike ride on Sunday morning was in order.

We left at 10am, and climbed straight uphill until noon. The race, and the squats from the gym left me feeling gassed at the start. Needless to say I didn’t make it all the way to sheep mountain with the boys. The solo trip back down the single track got very, very cold, and I was happy to spend the rest of Sunday in a coffee shop with a hot drink. I haven’t bonked quite that hard in a while, and it makes me understand why I see so many mountain bikes here. Good thing I need another adventure sport like I need a hole in my head… Thanks for a fantastic ride boys, and thanks to my stellar roommate Paul for the loaner bike!

Tougher than me. Nick, Simon, and Jack head onwards to Sheep mountain.

Tougher than me. Nick, Simon, and Jack head onwards to Sheep mountain.

Treasure!

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Today my team and I won an old fashion treasure hunt. This was hilariously fun on it’s own, but far better because of my teammates- Todd, Amanda, Jeremy, and Joran, thank you so very much. When else do you get to find real treasure and support a great cause? Story and details to follow!

20130928-131057.jpg

Plasir Means Fun

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Part I of III

I’ve written about the Wind River mountains a few times, but despite their significance for me they’ve been a difficult place to get to in my adventures. 9 days ago I got off work late and pointed the car south with a loose plan and a lot of determination. Putting together partners for the whole 9 days wasn’t going to work, so I mixed and matched to make the most of my time.  Sylvia would join me from Lander for the first 2 days, I’d have 2 days solo, and Bryan from Jackson would join me for the last 5 days. Sylvia met me in Pinedale and we made quick work of repacking and getting on the trail.

I didn't exactly pack before leaving Missoula.

I didn’t exactly pack before leaving Missoula.

The heaviest pack I've carried since Denali.

The heaviest pack I’ve carried since Denali.

I got to know Sylvia while I was living in Portland. She moved to Lander in 2009 and though we haven’t linked up often, our time together has always been beautiful and significant. Her climbing focus lies in the foothills of the Winds at Sinks Canyon and Wild Iris, but she was eager to join me for an alpine excursion in the first part of my trip. Labor day weekend normally boasts great weather, no bugs, and good temps for climbing, and consequently the range is packed. We stayed away from the epically popular Cirque of the Towers, and found a great alpine introduction in the East Fork Valley.

"Take the direct line straight up the center of the face for 2/3rds the height of the mountain..." Booyah.

“Take the direct line straight up the center of the face for 2/3rds the height of the mountain…” Booyah.

Ambush Peak is huge and hosts a variety of amazing climbing lines. Sylvia always helps me remember to have more fun so when we saw the description for the Ambush Plasir route, we knew where we were headed. We hiked in on Saturday afternoon with huge packs, and I was grateful for the help schlepping two ropes, a double rack and 9 days of food in the range. We made fast work of 12 miles on trail and enjoyed amazing light on the walk in.

We left our camp at Skull Lake around 7am and hiked to the base of our route, dreading the sight of another party already on it. Instead we had our route (and the rest of the East Fork) to ourselves. The route is 10 pitches, with bolted belays but all traditional protection- making it a great introductory alpine route and an easy descent. I lead most of the pitches and got a good reminder that 5.9 slab climbing can still pucker your sphincter while you are having fun. The climbing, weather, and solitude were perfect, but the best part by far was the partnership. It was the longest climb Sylvia’s ever done, but that mostly just meant we had enough time to share the richness of the past few years that we’ve missed each other.

Fun is in fact being had.

Fun is in fact being had.

Since she left Portland, Sylvia has started a business and made a lovely life in a small place with big beauty. She’s grown in strength of spirit and courage of heart, and am grateful for her friendship. As they are with many friends I don’t see often enough, our conversations were both deep yet warm and fun in a way that only my mountain partnerships seem to inspire.

This is what it's all about.

This is what it’s all about.

We got back to camp after dark on Sunday, shared coffee and breakfast the next morning, and parted ways at the Shadow Lake junction. Sylvia had to make the most of just a few days away from home and I took all the gear and headed towards the Cirque for the next part of my trip. The resonance of the universe is strong with me when I’m in the Winds and despite the weight in my pack I covered miles quickly. It is a special place indeed.

Damn special.

Damn special.

Passings

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IMG_3208

For John Wellington, midnight at 14,200′ on Denali.

Three times this summer I’ve been asked to support friends dealing with the death of a loved one. Two were last week. All three were accidents. All were relatively young. I had only met one of the deceased, but the passing of their lives touches lives close to mine. As we are all connected, their passing slows my pace. None of the people enjoyed a peaceful passing. Their deaths were ugly and impossible.

When I die, my body will return to dust, and I am at peace that the memory of my spirit may not matter to anyone. Life is stark and unforgiving in it’s brevity. None of this is comforting. I won’t wax poetic about dying in the mountains, or doing what you loved. 1) it’s not applicable, and 2) that isn’t how I (or anyone I know) aspire to go.

The primary fault in my value system is my belief that my worth comes from my ability to DO something. Anything. Yet death is a certainty- it is the thing that even the best of us are equally powerless against. In death, there is nothing to be done. The first sensation of comfort comes from embracing the powerlessness. I can’t pretend to understand death, nor can I pretend to mend the broken hearts around me. I am just starting to understand living. I aspire to understand loving. Somehow, these are the only responses that seem appropriate in support of my friends.

Death begs us the question of living.
It begs us to dream. To hope. To love. Greater and more fully each time. Though the great injustice of each life unnecessarily snatched away from us compels me to burn my light even more brightly in this life- more than anything else, it compels me to simply be more present with each of my friends.

“And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.” (K. Gibran)

“I didn’t come here for a long time, I came here for a good time.” (Jeff Shapiro)

Ties

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I’ve been looking forward to writing about last weekend since before it happened. Time tends to prove the strength of ties that bind.

Bryce and I, deep in the Alaska range- June 2007. (Photo: David Kahn)

Me, Bryce, and Laura, deep in the Alaska range on our NOLS course in June 2007. (Photo: David Kahn)

Friday afternoon I finished my hours at work early and met Bryce and Brad who were fresh into Missoula on a little motorcycle tour as part of their new big thing. They came partially for the beer and music festival put on by New Belgium brewing, but I’d like to think I had something to do with it. Bryce and I met on my NOLS course in 2007, and quickly became close friends. Since then, our paths have crossed in Bozeman, Flagstaff, and Salt Lake City as our lives have wandered in pursuit of the adventure.  Every time, the conversation seems to pick up just where it left off.

Doin' my thang. It's fun to realize that I've learned things that other people want to know about.

Doin’ my thang. It’s fun to realize that I’ve learned things that other people want to know about.

I said goodbye late Friday night, because Brian and I were headed to Butte early on Saturday morning. I was invited to give a talk on Energy Conservation as it relates to renewable energy at the Montana Renewable Energy Association‘s annual Clean Energy Affair event. Getting to share some of what I’ve learned in the past few years reminds me why I’ve chosen to spend my time as I have.  Plus, rubbing elbows with the Governor is never a bad thing. Brian came along to get some climbing in on the incredible granite just outside of town. Even better, he got to do it with an awesome lady that I haven’t seen in far too long.

Brian and Ren, ready to rap off.

Brian and Ren, ready to rap off.

I spent most of 2010 commuting from Portland to Los Angeles to see someone special. At the end of that year, our lives were headed in different directions.  It hurt, as the end of things always do, but there were never curse words. Earlier this year, Ren emailed and said she was leaving LA with a camper and some climbing gear. I mentioned the quality of adventures here in Montana, and she promised to make a point of visiting. She and her guy Jesse were driving up from Yellowstone, en route to Glacier National Park, so climbing in Butte fit perfectly. Brian provided some local knowledge on Saturday while I gave my talk, and Sunday found us as two teams of two climbing at Spire Rock. I couldn’t have been more psyched to see Ren and meet Jesse.

This always seems to happen when Ren is around.

Beef roast, avocado, cheese, and bread- this always seems to happen when Ren is around.

While at the conference on Saturday though, I got a last minute call from my dear friends Jordan and Cari, who were also passing through Missoula on Sunday night and hoping for a place to crash. The new house provided ample space, and Missoula offered a gorgeous evening to meet old friends. Monday afternoon we all floated the Clark Fork and ate the grass-fed Montana beef rump roast I had been saving in the freezer. Fine times with finer people- summer in Missoula is a good thing and I am very grateful.

Ties that bind across time and distance.

Ties that bind across time and distance.