Category Archives: Traveling

Tent-bound

(from June 2, 2011)

The crappy weather and glacial conditions leave plenty of time for reflection and excellent time with newfound friends. We’re chilling like villains in the heart of the lower Kahiltna. I promised myself a long time ago that I would rally against the concept of being jaded, and found myself thinking about ego, humility and opportunity. A few reminders for myself:

My confidence is more effective that the doubt of those who challenge me.
My joy is more powerful that the anger of those who hate.
My creativity is more attractive than the certainty of the pessimists that taunt me.
My humility is more energizing than the ego of those that goad me.
My flexibility is stronger that the rigid beliefs of those that shirk the required hard work.

All of us are smarter than one of us. All of us together are greater than one of us alone.

The last good look at Mt. Hunter for many days.

“The Size Thing” chapter of “The Ecology of Commerce” by Paul Hawken hit me really hard, and reminds me that “Small is Beautiful” is another important book to include on the reading list. It concludes with a powerful statement:

“An ethic is not an ethic, and a value not a value, with out some sacrifice for it, something given up, something not taken, something not gained. We do it (ethic, value) for a greater good, for something worth more than just money and power and position.” – Jerry Kohlberg

At the same time, we’ve had a lot of fun in the bad weather. Tonight the tent was full of good food, bad whiskey, friendly faces, and homemade fudge from my NOLS recipe. Good serious conversation, good silly conversation, and a staunch optimism that we would all eventually get home. We haven’t seen a plane in a few days, but most folks are just staying relaxed.

We kill time in heavy weather looking at mechanical advantage systems for rescue situations.

Our patrol (JP, me, and Chris), Kevin’s patrol (Kevin, Tony, Mark, Mik, and Andy), plus two badass Swedish skiers (Andreas and Magnus), and two strong Icelanders (Robert and Gummi) piled into the tent to swap stories and kill time. The Scandanavians inspire me to keep looking outward with my climbing as a vehicle not only for stripping away baggage, but embracing new parts of the world while being far from home.

Party night at the ranger basecamp. The Icelander boys are in the huge matching down suits.

Mark and Mik guide for Outward Bound, and encouraged me to continue considering serving as an outdoor education instructor. It’s definitely another idea under my skin, and getting to be a part of this internationally climbing community feels like a fresh wind compared to the stale challenges awaiting me in a cubicle. Important feelings to consider.

After official hours only...

A few of the 70+ people still waiting for weather good enough to fly home in.

Kahiltna International Airport

Leave a reply

The next series of dated blog posts are transcribed directly from my journal, as I wrote them over the course of the past 14 days. Enjoy them here and now as I created them for this blog but was unable to post them. I’m still working on photos, but wanted to start sharing some content– hopefully I can get photos up tonight but the process is a little delayed due to the dampness of my camera (more explanation shortly).

Ready to rock.

Kahiltna Basecamp, Denali National Park, Alaska. I’m here to staff the National Park Service camp here for the next 14 days. Essentially, I’m a glorified front desk ranger, with my primary duties revolving around cleaning up trash and poop violations, grunting equipment to and from the helicopter pad, and facilitating questions from incoming climbers. That said, I’ll be working in the most beautiful office in the world, learning some fun lessons, and enjoying some hilarious characters (I hope). After the hustle of bouncing from place to place for the past few weeks, I’m looking forward to the chance to just chill out.

Sometimes, getting up in the middle of the night to pee is awesome.

I love this. I love being here, being with these people, doing this thing, living this experience. The energy hit when I asked Brandon about sitting in on his glacier travel/cravasse rescue lecture. Even though my past experience has left me with a solid understanding of these systems, seeing the opportunity, the thought hit me “yes, I’d love to learn more, see things another way.” Brandon is a former YOSAR ranger, and one of the most knowledgeable people regarding rope systems on the Denali staff- it was a rare opportunity for advanced knowledge.

Necessary training, just under the eye of "The Great One" (Denali in the background)

It recharges me because I love to be humble, I love learning new things, or discovering things that I thought I knew, and finding that I didn’t know them at all. I love when other people ask me to help (like facing my fears of taking a whipper into a cravasse), or cooking hot dinner for 10 when the day was done.

Jumping in cracks is fun, when you expect it...

There are always more ways to help. Serving with the Denali park staff is a good opportunity to practice. The staff know more about technical rigging, medicine, incident management, group dynamics, and leadership, but they need me because I know a little bit and am happy to help. I came up here because it seems like Alaska is able to inspire me to be the best version of myself that I have found so far. Finding ways to help is just another facet of experience that re-inforces that.

Brandon is taking a patrol up the West Buttress route (the same patrol I did two years ago) and I’ve sincerely enjoyed getting to know them over the past few days here. It’s an obvious example of the mountain community that I love. Being at basecamp is an opportunity to further embrace this community, and a chance not to be missed.

Wasilla, Alaska

1 Reply

Yes, the hometown of my favorite American politician, Sarah Palin. I’m waiting at the much recommended Pandemonium bookstore meet my good friend Margaret for lunch, and have my first access to wi-fi. We flew out of the Alaska range yesterday afternoon which was surprisingly beautiful against the odds of a grim forecast. Obviously, I’ve got lots of updates for the blog but the quick summary from the past few weeks includes a few crazy Serbians, swimming, and way too many games of euchre. Look for more updates in the next few days- I’ll be out of touch again starting June 16.

Our crew, plus the lovely Lisa (basecamp flight manager) with Denali in the background.

Somehow, I ended up shotgun for the flight out.

Not a bad day in the range…

Big Dreams

2 Replies

There’s a smell in the air here that I have t smelled anywhere else- maybe melting permafrost or a landscape racing to breathe in every minute of endless summer sun. It snaps my attention to the present, to this place, to the fact that the very best thing I’ve done, the very best moment yet is this one right now.
Several good friends have recently asked- “What’s the biggest difference since you quit you job two months ago?”
“Big dreams.” I reply quickly. For a while there at my desk I could no longer imagine a better life than racing between passion and profession, scrambling, scrimping, just getting enough of each to resemble a commitment, but never reaping the rewards of real dedication. Releasing it all, the options loom large and the big dreams for my life flood back in. It’s all on the table again, rather than the slim possibilities afforded by a desk job I fell into and existed on because someone else offered it to me.
Alaska is a big land, with ample space for dreaming- I hope to have a clearer picture of what exactly I’ve been dreaming when I get off the glacier in 15 days. The blog will be quiet for a while as it’s not possible to update from the glacier. More photos and adventure when I fly out around June 10.
Thanks for following.

The big 3 at bedtime (11:30pm)- Mt Foraker, Hunter, and Denali. May they prompt appropriate dreams tonight.

Arrival #1: Anchorage

1 Reply

I have to allow that I am stupidly excited to be in Alaska. There is something about this place that strikes me like no where else.

Two photos
My gear, along with a guided team from RMI, waiting for the shuttle.
Just a shot from the road on the way out of town…

Portland #1: Community

1 Reply

“So how has this experience changed your personal relationships?”
My friend Luna was getting the update on my trip, except our conversation was markedly different from most of the other similar conversations I’ve had in the past few days being back in Portland. Luna asks the most wonderful questions, and listens with an intensity that removes your ability to bullshit an answer.

The question provided me an opportunity to articulate a few important points that I’ve been thinking about often in the past 6 weeks, but that I hadn’t articulated succinctly- but the answer lies in a single word, community. A few examples:

My relationship with my brother has grown stronger in the past 6 months than it has been in the past 6 years.
I’ve practiced building a new sense of community with an amazing group of climbers and travelers from Australia, England, the Netherlands, Switzerland, Canada, South Korea, and various US states.
I’ve learned to share what I have better, and accept what others offer me more willingly.
I’ve returned to Portland to find a community of friends eager to share my adventures, support my aspirations, and send me on the next leg of my trip.

Most recent mornings, I’ve woken up and taken stock of the day only to do a double take while wondering if it’s actually possible my life could be so good.

I’ve been in Portland since late Wednesday night, and I’m here to switch out my gear and fly to Alaska on Tuesday morning. I decided to leave the valley when I did to ensure I had enough time to give a little more time to The Commons, see friends that I have missed dearly, and ensure I have ample time to consider exactly what to take for 2 months in the Alaska range. To some, the preparations may seem daunting, but I’m grateful to say that the only overwhelming part of the past few days has been receiving the amount of good energy from so many wonderful people. I can’t accept credit for having so many wonderful people in my life in one place- but I can consider it proof that “the universe is unfolding as it should.” I’ll let the photos detail some of my recent activities.

Sunny local climbing at Broughton Bluff.

So exciting to see drywall in The Commons.

It was an exceptionally fun Sunday morning bike ride.

Real friends will let you sort your gear in their living room.

Being here feels solid and familiar. Like home? Perhaps, but that seems too strong of a question for this stage of my explorations. I’m thrilled to feel the energy, support, and strength that come from just checking in with so many of the people that I care about, and at the same time am unbelievably excited about the upcoming prospect of 9 weeks in one of the most inspiring places I’ve ever been. Booyah. This is the most sincere thank-you to everyone who has made this place feel so grounding the past few days, Portland feels like the perfect launch pad for the next stage of adventure.

There is a certain romance to all cities dominated by their bridges.

Success

Leave a reply

Had a great conversation today with a new friend while driving up to Portland. It reminded me of two private journal entries from the last year that I wanted to post more succinctly and publicly.
I refuse to believe that the value of my life can be measured in dollars.
I consider true success to have been achieved when one looks back on what they have done without regret, and when one can look forward at their life with the honest assessment that what they are about to do is the best thing they have ever done.
I’ll probably rephrase this in the morning but wanted to share before I forgot.

The Obvious Next Step

1 Reply

My original plans for this pat of my trip had been to spend some serious time rock climbing here in the Valley, and then ski mountaineering in the high Sierra. That said, my foot recovery hasn’t really permitted the multi-pitch climbing I had hoped to do, and getting into the high Sierra in a year with 170+% of annual snowpack is quite a bit of work (not to mention partners are exceedingly hard to come by when miles of vertical granite are 5 minutes from the car). Of course, the Valley is really a nice place to be regardless:

The Leaning Tower and Bridalveil Falls in some rare sunshine.

On the upside, one of my most important goals of this trip is to take advantage of unusual opportunities while I have the time. Talking to my good friend Chris last Wednesday, he mentioned he needed a third person for his upcoming patrol to Denali basecamp. The Basecamp patrol involves facilitating arriving climbers, search and rescue operations, and generally maintaining the basecamp. It’s also a prime opportunity to get in quite a bit of alpine climbing and ski touring while living on the Kahiltna glacier.

My foot seems to work much better in ski boots than in rock shoes, and Alaska has always inspired me in a unique way. Going on a second patrol is a rare opportunity to spend quite a bit of time engaging in a variety of mountain activities in one of the worlds most beautiful places. Plus, the weather has been frustratingly hit or miss here in Yosemite. Thinking it over, it just seems like the next logical step to go to Alaska sooner rather than later. Just a few photos of the weather we’ve been having:

Possibly one of the cooler photos I've taken on this trip.

The Leaning Tower in the mist.

The El Cap massif just seems a little scarier in the mist...

We did successfully race the weather for a few quality pitches of climbing at Pat and Jack cliff yesterday, including me leading one of the best bolted pitches of 5.10b I have ever done. Enjoy a few photos of Yosemite in the snow, and some of my very good newfound friends.

I met Dave in Red Rocks, and he rocked the opening (crux moves) on slick granite.

Barry did a great job on this roof traverse.

And so I’m headed to Alaska a bit early. I’m enjoying a last game of Monopoly with friend- around the table are two climbing bums, a guide, a biotech CEO, and me. I’m heading to see my brother in San Jose tonight before driving to Portland tomorrow, then Alaska on Tuesday. With the opportunity in hand, I’m thrilled to be heading north sooner than I expected.

‘It Is Solved By Walking’

Leave a reply

My good friend David sent me this quote from his computer in Guatemala last week. You can read more about it here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Solvitur_ambulando

“It seems like your climbing is pissing you off, Skander”
“You know, I think you’re right. I can count on two hands the number of days I’ve been leading trad on Granite, I’m not sure why I’m stuck on this idea I can lead 5.10 here.” If “the best climber in the world is the one having the most fun” (Alex Lowe), I haven’t been doing so well the past few days.

I had been complaining to Aaron about yesterday’s spectacle of me hanging on my gear, then slip-sliding off a variety of 5.10 routes I had sent on top rope last week. As is often the case of climbers well versed in face climbing, my days here in Yosemite have been humbling. The more I climb here, the more I realize how unprepared I was to climb the Salathe with my buddy Steve-O. Having a bum foot doesn’t help, and somewhere towards the end of my fight yesterday with “Lunatic Fringe” (5.10c), I tweaked a tendon in my shoulder quite badly. The pain still present this morning, and anytime I raise my arm above my shoulder socket, is a strong reminder that my roadtrip thus far has probably inflated my ego more than my muscles. Stewing in camp Monday night watching my friends pack some of my gear for a climb I wasn’t able to go on left me feeling punchy and I took it out on my kettlebell. I haven’t been keeping up on my gym training, and I was sore before I even started climbing on Tuesday morning. Dumb. Really dumb, because right when I needed it most (150′ off the deck), I was gassed in all the same muscle groups I had wrecked the night before. Backing off the Salathe was a good choice, and also made me face some questions about what I can do to properly ensure I don’t have to bail off my patrol on Denali next month.

At least its the most beautiful schoolhouse I've ever been to... (photo: Barry Smith)

Getting a full value education. (photo: Barry Smith)

I’m in Yosemite, possibly one of the most beautiful places in the world and I’ve been feeling pissy all morning because I know I shouldn’t be climbing. I need to take care of my feet rather than wedge them into rock shoes, and stop torquing a shoulder into cracks that have already torqued it enough (possibly because I’m over-compensating for my foot?). More importantly, as my brother asked me last week before I bailed on the Salathe- it again raises the question of what am I here to do?

I suspect, it may be solved by walking. I took this time off to do things that I won’t be able to do while holding a steady job. I’ll come back to Yosemite to climb routes, but when can I see the Yosemite high country in spring snow? When can I decide to change my Alaska plans and stay in the range for another 3 weeks (more on this later)? I’ve let my ego back me into a corner, and I’ve got to step back and simplify. I’m headed into the high country to slow down for a few days and consider my options- and prevent myself from climbing on a shoulder than needs to heal. It should also be a great time to check in on my skiing stamina and overall preparations for Alaska. I’m leaving from the Snow Creek Trailhead and plan to travel to Tuolomne Meadows, then back down to the valley via Yosemite Falls. I should be back Saturday afternoon. My plans are on file with the Yosemite Valley wilderness office under permit # 05713. I look forward to sharing some great photos when I get back!

Big gear for a big route.

Good luck boys! Wish I could join you.

Welcome home.

Just wanted to include this last shot of a coyote we met on the road as we returned from climbing on Tuesday night. So cool.

Also, in memory of one of the finest female alpine climbers out there, I needed to post this awesome tribute: http://www.thecleanestline.com/2011/04/desert-rembrance.html#more Rest in Peace Ms. Nott.

Betting Odds- Addendum

Leave a reply

(I wrote most of this Wednesday driving across Utah)

The past few days haven’t been good for fully explaining the range of events on this trip. I like working on this blog, and haven’t gotten to share as many thoughts as I would like. The previous description of my car adventure left out several important details due to a lack of time in writing the post, and lack of battery power on my computer. Editing the blog is possible from my phone, but only while I have cell service, which is spotty here in southern Utah. I’ve got a lot of catching up to do, so I’ll try to share a few more photos to break up the text.

Utah Hwy 24 is not the fastest way to get to Moab, but is highly recommended.

The previous entry tells the story pretty well up to Sunday afternoon, when the tow truck dropped us off at the campground and took off with my car for destination unknown (the repair shop). It was an odd feeling, to watch this machine (the car) that is so essential to this part of my current journey get towed away. During the extraction of the car from the bush, I had been so focused on the task at hand that I didn’t really have time to emote the frustration and sadness related to the experience. As I mentioned, for a few hours, my morale bottomed out. It was hot, my car and possibly my trip was seriously off plan, and I have to give a shout out to Jordan for being a staunch companion and good friend. We played with the new camera, talked things through, and he was an essential part of getting me back on my feet. Jordan has a great talent for simply letting things go. As I mentioned in the first post of this blog, letting go of the baggage that does not matter is what this journey is about, and it’s been fun to realize that my partner for these first two weeks has so much to offer as an example for that lesson.

Very good odds to have great companions.

As I also mentioned, we hitched a ride back out to climb later than afternoon, and while my lead head was fairly shot, it felt good to get in a few easy pitches at the sport climbing area. The climbing was easy, moving upwards on the perfect pocketed sandstone felt calming after the events of the morning. Monday, after talking to the garage, taking stock of things, and a kettlebell workout to get my mind convinced of my body’s capacity for work, we regrouped and I finally started to really believe that frankly- if this is the worst thing that happens on this trip, I will have done very well.

The previous post also didn’t discuss the title. Lots of people talk about their odds in Vegas, obviously with regard to the gambling. In my case, I have to allow it seems like bad odds to hit a rock and destroy my oil pan. Bad odds to need a variety of expensive services not covered by AAA or my auto insurance. Bad odds that these previous circumstances severely limited the amount of climbing we were able to do while in Red Rocks. I let these circumstances degrade my experience of that place (thought I do have to allow that I stayed relatively optimistic throughout our time there), and that is simply unfortunate.

More importantly, I have to consider just how good our odds were. That we didn’t puncture the oil pan further from the road. That there were cactus in just the right places to set up an appropriate pulley system. That we got an awesome tow truck operator with a great sense of humor and strong determination to get us out of our situation. That we found other climbers more than happy to help us with everything from rides to charging cell phones, to watching our stuff. That we found an unbelievable family (with a cop behind the wheel no less), who passed us on the highway and turned around to come pick us up and take us directly where we wanted to go, in time to salvage some of our climbing day and part of our experience. I mentioned Ray and Denise in the previous post, but need to thank them again. They picked us up because they felt it was an essential duty as born-again Christians. You can follow Denise and her family as they walk the true Christian walk, here. It was refreshing to connect with people through their charity, despite the differences in our beliefs. They asked some important questions regarding my journey that I hope to address as part of this journey.

Canyon country is a most unique cathedral.

Tuesday, with the car, gear, and itinerary back in order, we decided to stay one additional day in Vegas in order to do a little bit of the climbing that had originally inspired me to include Red Rocks on my itinerary. As we discussed our objectives, I discussed big crack systems and traditional climbing protection, inserted and removed by the climbers as they pass over the terrain (most of our climbing to this point has been on sport routes with bolted protection). Jordan has limited experience with this type of climbing, and while it is what I hope to focus on for the rest of the trip, I realized I hadn’t led more than 5 trad route since foot surgery. We warmed up on two easy 5.7 pitches, which despite a crowd of other climbers, went easily. We headed for the shade and the ultra-classic Dark Shadows route and sent the first four pitches (the most classic part) easily as well. I’m calmer on lead above my gear, but still have a lot of work to do in recognizing the right sizes to get gear in quickly. Rappeling off the route however, I started to get distracted with some serious foot pain on both feet. My old surgery site, and the bunion growing on my right big toe. I’m worried about the implications this could have for my continued activities.

From the belay ledge on pitch 3 of "Dark Shadows", Pine Creek Canyon, Red Rocks. This climb was Jordan's first real multipitch trad route.

We left Vegas yesterday morning and stopped a few hours later in Zion National Park in southern Utah. A place I’ve always wanted to go, and a place full of serious, committing climbing. Looking at the walls, I felt both inspired and scared. Jordan and I jogged most of the trail up to Angels Landing in the mid afternoon, and took the bus to the end of the road to catch a glimpse of the famous narrows canyon. My new camera started to prove it’s value, and our trip felt back on track.

Enjoy a few photos from our hike to Angels Landing in Zion National Park!