Blink

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It’s snowing in Missoula tonight- and while I am actually unreasonably excited about that, it feels like fall disappeared in the blink of an eye. Fortunately, rock climbing is never out of season.

I hit the farmer’s market on Saturday, then boogied to Mill Creek with Ky. The forecast wasn’t exactly inspiring.

Pre-snowstorm.

Things you don’t want to see while on route.

Climb faster Ky, it’s cold down here.

Ky took the first lead on his sexy new Sterling rope, and despite his freezing extremities, turned right around, pulled the rope, and handed me the sharp end. They were my draws, so up I went. It was blowing snow steadily as I rapped down, and we headed for home after one route.

I almost didn’t head out again Sunday, but the skies looked much nicer. I had hoped to get out with Steve again, but he was being a responsible adult (taking care of his house, spending time with his amazing son), so I met some other fine folks that I haven’t climbed with nearly enough. Mostly though, I almost backed out because these kids climb hard. Harder than me, and harder than most of the people I climb with. While I’ve been trying to push my grades on my own, there’s no better way to really step up than going out with a motley crew of folks that really expect quite a bit more from you. I was sincerely glad I went, because we had a perfect day on our own private crag at Bass Creek…

Cole gets up close and personal on an obscure trad line.

Mr. Sulock sorts out the sequence.

We made sure my new rope worked when I headed up the 11b, but the support of stronger climbers goes a long way, and after grabbing a draw (to avoid a really nasty fall into a horizontal knife), I pulled the rope and fired the moves on the second try.

Your’s truly on the classic thin traverse from arete to crack system… (photo by Michael Sulock)

We all wrapped up on a stupid fun arete climb and was home in time to cook for the week and do some non-profit work. As much as I will miss rock climbing season, it’s just about time to swing my tools…

 

 

Richer

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Waterworks birthday hike. Richer for sure.

Older, wiser… whatever.  Looking at my life on my 28th birthday, the most important thing that I can say is that my life is richer.  I have no doubts about the quality of people that I spent Friday night with, or the remainder of my weekend.  The over-committed state of my life hit hard on Monday morning, but frankly, that’s okay with me for now.

The Super Nova at Big Dipper Ice Cream. Feeds 9 easily.

Sometimes, birthdays entail more than one dessert, and sometimes I’m okay with that.

The roommates did not miss the occasion.

I had lined up plans to chase one more long alpine line on Saturday with Ky, but the weather did not cooperate.  Intermittent drizzle and dark skies meant that Ky and I were out to rescue some gear he had left on a route in Blodgett Canyon earlier this week.  That said, it was a perfect use of the day, and we came back with all the gear he lost, plus some.

Maybe grey skies make the fall colors stand out even more?

We hiked to the top of Shoshone, found significantly colder, windier conditions on the valley floor, and rapped into get the gear.  Unlike the last time Amanda let me steal Ky for the day, I got him home in time for dinner.

Just playing with the rock toys.

I finally got to the birthday workout on Sunday morning, and then headed out to share my love of the vertical with several close friends that were new to the ropes.  Jake tied in for the very first time ever, Emily ticked her second lead ever, and Tabby was just all good energy all afternoon.  I should probably pay attention to how much I enjoy teaching climbing to other people…

We are slowly introducing Jake to all the dark backcountry arts.

Clark Fork at Alberton, October 14, 2012. Perfect.

No, I didn’t send anything hard, but the day was a beautiful reminder that it is often the climbers more than the climbing, that make this facet of my life just so rich.

27

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Today is the last day of my life that I will be 27 years old.  Towards the end of my workday, a client tore into me for wasting their time.  Given how much I enjoy other people wasting my time, the feedback hit me hard.  As usual, I stewed over our exchange through most of my otherwise enjoyable evening, but eventually came up with something better to think about.

What am I looking forward to leaving behind in my 27th year?

I’m a contractor now, and generally that means you wear your man-pants (aka. Carhartts) to work- and a thin skin doesn’t last long in the office.  After my gym session tonight, I realized I’m looking forward to leaving behind my willingness to take offense.  If you are reading this- I’ll look forward to your help keeping me focused on that goal.

Everything

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It is my favorite season.

“I like your life here Skander.”
“Yeah, me too.”
Margaret and I were driving back from a perfect day of rock climbing in Mill Creek, and her observation, like her visit, helped flush away some of the chaos that I’ve been keeping at bay lately.  How do you describe a weekend that encompasses every conversation, every part of yourself, all of your past, all of your future?  Well, it was Friday noon through Tuesday morning, but everything is a lot.

Home grown tomatoes at the PEAS Farm

Margaret and I met at Northwestern while working to push sustainability into the engineering school agenda.  Her intelligence, tenacity, and unlimited joy were obvious from the start, but I never suspected how our friendship would grow.  After Northwestern, Margaret moved to Alaska and my subsequent expeditions were always bookended with homemade bread, midnight sunsets, and time with her and her amazing boyfriend in their cabin in Palmer.  We share common dreams for sustainable business, social services, and food systems.  We pursue common goals for introspection, self-enrichment, and service to others.  She was the last of my summer visitors this year, and early October celebrated her visit with clear skies and perfect temperatures to enjoy the best of Missoula.

Topping out one of Margaret’s first real rock climbs.

First Friday, climbing at Mill Creek, hiking on Mt. Jumbo, visits with farmers, were a perfect introduction to Missoula, but under all of it, the real highlight was in the conversation that never seemed to stop.  Margaret doesn’t mince words, pull punches, or let questions go unasked- and neither do I.  More than anything else, our friendship is rooted in a clear deep openness, and we didn’t waste the short time we had together.  The questions she is able to ask helped me verbalize some emotions that I haven’t been able to express, and to admit some feelings that I haven’t been able to face.  Some visitors I’ve had have made me wonder why I’m making life happen here, but showing Margaret around Missoula made me realize how well this place fits my life- or perhaps, how well my life fits my life, here.

Boulder, Colorado

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My mind is not on getting this posted tonight, but more on that towards the bottom.  Participating in the PassiveHouse conference last week left no time for writing.  My trip was sponsored by the fine folks at Zola European Windows, and I had a very good time both at the conference (in downtown Denver), and romping around more colorful places, like Boulder.

Zola- the only folks I know that can make a R-10, triple pane, 19′ wide sliding glass door (thanks to my boss for modeling).

Surprisingly, I’ve never spent much time there, but Boulder is kinda hilarious.  The outskirts feel more like most little western mountain towns- copious outdoor recreation, lots of very fit people and fancy bicycles, and a Walmart here and there.   But downtown is more unique- trust fund hippies play guitar next to the Gucci storefront, and the smell of gourmet, organic, fresh ground coffee is overwhelming.  There is public bike sharing, and an amazing vintage theater.  Half of me wants to move there, and the rest of me knows to stay away- but probably just because I wouldn’t feel unique anymore.

Classic (damn street lamp ruins my photo).

The theater architecture was nice, but the line-up was unbelievable…

There is something about being in an unfamiliar place that allows me to step away from myself.  My view of things around me becomes more detached, and more objective- my normal introspective investments drop away in pursuit of new-ness.  Seeing new people in new places, reminds me that we are just people- doing whatever it is that we do.  Our individual heartbreak or triumph becomes far less important in a crowd of strangers.  Part of this blog is about the search for the most authentic version of ourselves, and when no one around you knows (or particularly cares) who you are- its fun to take the opportunity to be exactly who you want.

In between professional responsibilities, I enjoyed a session with some like minded outdoor folk at the Alpine Training Center, and caught dinner with my friend Jen, who drove all the way from Greeley just to make it happen.

Home away from home.

The conference was certainly valuable- lots of practice talking about what I do, seeing some really cool projects (the Marshall project), learning new stuff, and making new connections.  It was also hilarious to realize my own cousin was also presenting- we had a very good time catching up on the past 5 or 6 years since I’ve seen him, and I really appreciated his presentation on the Thousand Homes Challenge.  It always takes a while to see what shakes out of these sort of things, but the vibes were good, and some of the interactions were… unique.

5 people debating the merits of a window detail. Only at a PassiveHouse conference.

Stand and deliver. My cousin gets it done.

By Sunday afternoon I had as much PassiveHouse as I could actively take-on and was grateful to meet a good friend and former co-worker from Portland for dinner and a local jazz jam.  It’s been a while since I put my name on a list and sat in on bebop tunes, but it’s amazing how the changes still come back.

The previous commentary about feeling detached is at odds with my mood tonight.  I went to invite some friends together for this weekend on facebook, only to notice that one of them seemed to evaporate.  Just like anything else, the social utility is just as good at taking people apart as putting them back together.  With all the traveling and dedication to task at hand, it’s pretty obvious I’ve got a fair amount of work to do at home as well.

Travel

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(the next few posts are going to be a bit out of order, wrote this on the plane and wanted to get it posted)

The flight from Salt Lake to Denver was full of a high school girls soccer team from Australia.  They had been traveling for 27 hours, and Denver was their final destination.  Listening to their accents I started to think about all of the planes I’ve been on since I quit my job in Portland.  I’m traveling for work this week, but my work at Energetechs has never had the same rote tedium that working at Glumac did.  I still feel like I’m on the journey.  I remember sitting on the plane on Monday morning, November 15, 2010 on my way to the GreenBuild conference to represent Glumac.  That was when I decided to quit the job and see what else the world had to offer- it’s fun to think that the journey that has been my life since then has pretty much been perfect, with just enough low points to make it real.

En route, via SLC.

I’m in Denver to give a presentation to the Passive House Institute US National Conference.  I’m a little scared that being the nerdiest construction company in Montana isn’t quite enough to hang with the other folks here, but we’ll give it our best.  We’ve got an authentic story to tell, and I think we tell it well- the success is going to lie in owning that.

It is said that the world is like a book, and that those who don’t travel only read one page.  I’ll be here until Monday and expect to work my tail off, learning, networking, training, and growing- and I’m really looking forward to it.  I’m curious to see what coming back to Missoula feels like, particularly in comparison to returning there after Yosemite a few weeks ago.  Stay tuned.

Focus

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It is what seems to be lacking in my life lately.  I haven’t been spending my time pursuing my priorities, even when I feel like I know what they are (which is surprisingly not often).

Driving back from California, my focus drifted so far as to wonder why I was bothering to drive back to Missoula at all- the eastern Sierra is just that captivating- but fortunately practical concerns won out.  I see it in my writing, in my working, in my home life, and in my tire tracks, the focus is missing.

I thoroughly enjoyed a very short trip to Portland last weekend- mostly on the occasion of witnessing two beautiful people tie a beautiful knot:

“Work is love made visible.” (Kahlil Gibran) It’s obvious these two have done the work.

Naturally, I jammed the rest of my time in the city chock full of familiar faces.

Roommates for life, at least in spirit.

It felt like an effort to pick up again after the long drive home from California and a full work week, but I was very grateful to have the company of two awesome Missoulians for the drive on each end.  My friends Emily and Kate both had loved ones of their own to see in PDX, so we made a road trip of it.  Our conversations in the car were some of the most open and insightful sharing I’ve gotten to experience since moving here.

This past week I’ve been stretched thin at work as my dear friend and colleague Andy moves back to his native Australia (where I cannot wait to visit him in January).  As such, I’ve picked up a number of additional projects, and with winter coming, it is not a slow time for heating contractors.  Training sessions have been few and far between, and my focus has felt far from climbing and writing (or anything in particular), points that I hope to steer towards throughout the fall.  I’ve made a point to give more time to the non-profit organizations that I am working with (here, and here).  Doing what needs to be done isn’t always as satisfying as you hope.

How can we make this little black and white sticker really *mean* something more.

Tuolomne

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You’ve been warned, this could probably be several posts- the lack of power for my computer, internet connectivity while traveling, and free time upon my return has left me behind on writing.  The last 10 days have inspired a lot of writing.  Hopefully I’ll get to all of it in the coming weeks.  The short summary is interspersed with the photos.

First off- I really like driving.  940 miles from Missoula to Lee Vining was no problem.  840 miles back (on a different route) was harder, but not because of the driving.

How many of my best days start.

Engine limit?

In addition to enjoying the Jarbidge, I also enjoyed a night in the desert overlooking Mono Lake, sunrise over the eastern Sierra, and beautiful (but hard to photograph) vistas across Nevada.

First light on the mountains, September 6, 2012.

I pulled into Tuolomne Meadows around 11am last Monday- John was still making his way up from SF, so I headed out for a perfect trail run/hike up to Cathedral Lake.  I haven’t been running at all this summer, but it felt good to move fast again, and I’m excited to think I’ll be running again this fall (fingers crossed).  Tuolomne is one of the most perfect places I have ever been, and the only other time I was there was on my solo ski tour last spring.  The summer tourists certainly have their impact, but nothing really breaks the serenity of the place.

Tuesday John and I got lost and didn’t find the route we were looking for.  Certainly a downer to start the trip, but it was still a beautiful day, and served us a good slice of humble pie.  Weather on Wednesday looked uncertain, so we elected to fire two short routes, South Crack on Stately Pleasure Dome and West Crack on Daff Dome.  The climbing here can be confusing and scary, but awesome at the same time.

Climbers are the main wildlife attraction for tourists at the base of Stately Pleasure Dome.

John charging the 2nd pitch.

100ft runout. Routine for Tuolomne climbing.

The climbing was easy and the setting was perfect.  I wasn’t complaining.

New friends on the route next to us.

Tuolomne as a reputation for bad afternoon thunderstorms, and rain makes the granite slick as snot.  By the time we got to West Crack, things weren’t looking so hot.

Up to be down, I hated calling the weather after a superb first pitch.

Thursday was more of the same, so we headed for some single pitch climbing at Olmstead Point.  Frustrating to not tick any long routes, but the skies weren’t inspiring.  We top roped, we fell off a lot, and got worked early- there are really no bad days of climbing in Yosemite.

Rain?

Even without long routes, my hands were showing signs of Yosemite by Thursday sunset.

Friday dawned perfectly.  I got up early to check the weather, and we made the most of the day.  It may only be 5.7, but I’ve never climbed anything quite like the complete traverse of Mathes Crest.  It’s about a mile long, and much of the route can be simulclimbed, but with just enough exposure to make you think about it.

High Sierra.

This was only the beginning.

Better and better.

The views backwards were the best.  Note the other parties standing where we had just been.

Everyone gets this photo, and I don’t care.

It was a sweet day out.  Everything just fired like it was supposed to- we didn’t get too lost on the approach, John and I simuled the first half of the route in 2.5 hours, and despite some questionable route finding and exciting downleading, we had a hoot on the second half as well.

John’s last belay ledge. Perfect.

The route traverse the entire visible ridge, starting from the notch at the far right, and ending at the notch on the far left. You know it’s good when it barely fits in the camera lens.

Views on our walk back to the car were similarly perfect.  We picked up the pace to race the sun down, and finished the route car to car in 12 hours.

Cathedral Peak on the way home.

Mt. Conness and the Sierra Crest. Perfect.

It was a little hard to rally for another climb on Saturday morning, but I knew I was sitting in a car for two days and wanted one more shot at the route we failed to find on Tuesday.  We found it in short order, but also found another party on it that was in over their heads.  After 1.5 hours of waiting at the pitch 2 belay, John and I were cold and frustrated.

Gangstas, who weren’t rolling anywhere behind another party.

We down-climbed the two pitches and headed our respective ways.  Despite the disappointment of not finishing the route, watching another team disintegrate made me even more grateful to have had a competent and fun partner for the week.  Many thanks to John for the sweet camping, willing attitude, and wise counsel.

The trip home was more of a challenge than the way out, but I did get one lucky photo in northern Nevada:

Train + Rainstorm + Sunset + Lightening.

More insight to follow, but the most important outcome from the vacation was that it felt like vacation- I didn’t really think or do anything in particular, and enjoyed being more away from everything familiar than I have been in quite some time.

Seasons

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Sunrise, September 1, 2012, Challis, Idaho. Music: Explosions In The Sky, Your Hand in Mine.

A few days ago I posted something on Facebook about seeing color in the leaves.  I was Jarbridge, Nevada (which is really much more like Idaho than what you would normally think of Nevada) last night and the air felt distinctly crisp.  Oh, and I drove through a full on hail storm to get there.  So yeah, fall is in the air, and that’s cool ‘cause it’s my favorite season and I’m on vacation, making a slow trip down to Yosemite National Park.  I’ve never climbed in Tuolomne, and my friend John is posted up there for the fall season in a joint venture between the AAC and National Park Service.  He and I had talked about meeting up, but I wasn’t sure it would happen until my idea to go to the Wind River range didn’t pan out.

Somewhere west of Rogerson, Idaho.

Really didn’t expect to find a post office…

Jarbridge is actually pretty well on the way, but getting  there takes quite a bit of doing.  My friend Linda (from my last adventure to Idaho) was headed into the Jarbridge Wilderness for a little solo backpacking, and we realized it would be fun to meet up in the middle of nowhere.

I didn’t really feel like I needed a vacation, which meant it was the perfect time to take one.  As I’ve hinted before, I miss the roadlife.  While I certainly don’t feel settled in Missoula, my journey takes a different form there, and there’s a part of me that just loves living out of the back of my car and exploring as much new territory as I can.

The Jarbridge is worth the trip- I look forward to making it back here.

I’m very grateful for a little time with a friend I may not see again for a long time.  Goodbyes are hard.

My wanderlust does not bode well for my bank account, long term financial solvency, or ability to invest in community.  I don’t know what to make of this fact, but it’s the main thing on my mind.  Watching the seasons change in Missoula, and on the road, makes me realize I’ve been in Missoula most of a year already.  When every minute of life still counts for something, a year starts to feel like a long time.  I’m always excited about fall, and perhaps unlike most folks, I can’t wait for winter.

Just north of Deeth, Nevada. Just go be out in the world today.

I’m not sure what to make of all this.  I’m not anywhere near the financial position I was in when I left Portland, and I don’t feel like professional experience in Missoula is complete yet, let alone the fact that Missoula still has much to offer.  Sometimes it just feels like my head and my heart are in two different seasons of my life.  This is going to be a good week to feel the differences.

Love

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It’s a topic that I’ve kept off of this blog, but this post has been under my skin all week.  Perhaps I’ve avoided it here by choice, or out of respect for the theme, but if the purpose of the space is to offer the opportunity to examine my life- then it’s only fair to admit that the topic has been on my mind lately.

I won’t pretend to have a good handle on love, in fact, my brother probably puts it best – “romantic relationships seem to have a particularly strong negative effect on your normally sound judgement and careful decision making.”  He’s right, romance tends to bend me out of shape worse than any alpine sufferfest.  Maybe that’s why I’ve found myself rolling solo much more than a duo- but this is not really about romance, it’s about love.

Love is what you share when you are more excited about what you have to give someone than what you might receive from them.  Love is what you accept when being around someone compels you to be the very best version of yourself and no one else.

Thank you to those of you who have recently asked me to be more discerning about what this word really means.

“Love is not sincere until every vestige of feeling that somebody owes us something is surrendered.” (Michael Booth)