Carpe Diem

So lacking motivation is something that I've corrected, like every other phase I fall into I've now been bitten by more technical climbing. I still can't find the motivation to write a trip report even though I aspire to one day compile them for a tribute like rendition of Halfway to Heaven.

Though I've swore off technical climbing just like a free soling purist swears off a day fighting the elements just to turn back because of it didn't feel right. I've given it a chance and found that it motivates me in a different way, not unfamiliar but lost.

While I find gratification in my endevour to reach the limits of fortitude, technical climbing or what I've experienced has brought out the competative spirit again. It's nice to be in a place where others have something to offer in terms of a challenge. Not in an egotistical sense but because I'm just the kind of person that strivea in the situations that I apply. It's nice to be humbled, to watch a 12 year old girl move with grace and ease through a move that you've spent more than a week studying and muscling. To not be concerned with being the best because it ain't goona happen right now. Kind of like when I began the martial arts, only interested in the knowledge.

All of this comes on after a few good weeks of "re-motivation" Lake Como did it for me. The two day excursion up a very long road, if you could call it that... harder than many of the 14'ers I've seen. Little Bear was a trial. I don't know if I forgot what mountaineering means because I've been bathing in the gluttony of sunny skies, warm nights and care free decisions but Little Bear was a reality check. From miss estimating the time of sunrise to free soloing well above my safety level. Regardless it reminded me of why I started mountaineering, the enjoyment of being in dangerous situations.

Following Lake Como, I took some down time which started as a tourist ascent of Cameron, Lincoln and Bross and ended after a true to winter turn around from the summit of Cameron and a re-ascent of Bross from the trailhead. As much as I dread winter (only for the driving) it's nice to get back into that survival mentality.

Did some technical climbing in Clear Creek this weekend and found after climbing the hour glass in the conditions on Little Bear, being on a top rope and making the crux is the least I should be afraid of. An interesting story concerning this climb, at the start of the route we did we were on a ledge about 30 feet above a class 4 section into Clear Creek. Nothing to be afraid of but not something you would want to fall down, we even went as far as to tie into some pro while we belayed and stood around. At the end of the day I dropped my helmet which fell to the river and floated downstream. As we left Leo noticed it submerged on the opposite side of the river. We ended up doing a tyrolean traverse to the opposite side to retrieve it.

And finally bouldering has continued to progress, I'm now onsighting most of the rec problems which are typically in the V4- range and completing multiple intermediate ones, the latter being up in the V5-V8 range. That's up to and including 5.13 moves and for those that think it doesn't count when you're not humping over the 5.7 terrain to get there, I seen many "bad ass" climbers in the gym that blast up the hardest routes, take a step off some of the easiest problems. A crux from the first move. Blisters and wounds have moved from my palms to my knuckles and now to my finger tips. I open doors with with two fingers only on the tips, lift weights using only the inside of my knuckles but still am put to shame by that damn 12 year old girl.

But I stuck a dyno all night tonight.

The unibomber is back.

Just a General Lack of Motivation

Not only am I lacking in motivation when comes to writing up climbing reports, which at this point must be at least six months and 10 climbs behind, I'm lacking in motivation for climbing in general. This past weekend being the second weekend in a row that I didn't climb, I think it's a combination of many factors. This break coming after a sprint of around 10 weekends straight of climbing, all but 2 being overnighters. Obviously I needed a break.

To be truthful, though I haven't written any reports up, I've now climbed 4 of the most challenging/exposed/exciting 14ers and at this point I just don't have the motivation to climb anything that isn't at least class 4 or difficult class 3. I surely don't want to walk up a class 1 or 2 ridge with a bunch of tourists that drove their 4wd's up to the trialhead to bang out the hardcore accomplishment of the decalibron in summer, a capstone to finish off their 5th 14er. Fortunately the winter is coming again and the easy routes will be mostly empty.

After driving up to the capitol peak trailhead in my Lexus sedan I have a bit of a sour taste for any trailhead that doesn't have paved access or easy 2wd description. Unfortunately if the trailhead has paved access than I feel it's a waste to do the route in summer, should be saved for winter. I'm actively working to solve the 2wd/low clearance problem though, should have a solution by early next year.

I still consider technical climbing (that isn't required on an alpine route) to be a sport activity. This with the caveat that I'm not good enough to climb anything more hardcore anyway. Despite this I've developed an excessive preoccupation with gym bouldering. For the past month I've been going at least 3 times a week. I've really taken to it. At it's easiest its like climbing a 5.11 route compacted into only the crux. You step up and within one move you're already on an overhang with a heal hook. Anyway, the downside is that being new to the activity I have perpetual open sores between every knuckle on both hands. God I hate noobs.

Next weekend will be a litmus for motivation, haven't decided whether it'll be a day climb, maybe Longs or another overnighter. The following weekend will be the crux of my summer climbing, labor day weekend, 4 days off, 2 nights at Lake Como. Blanca/Ellingwood traverse and Little Bear.

Why Don't You Just Jump Out of an Airplane?

I've said it before and I'll say it again, climbing is not about getting an adrenaline fix. I'm not some danger junky that seeks out situations on the edge so that I can come home saying holy shit I was walking the line with death. I imagine like a painter or musician finds their true nature in their medium, I do in climbing mountains. It brings out a full sense of focus, puts me into a scenario that requires absolute attention of all the senses. I've strived for and achieved excellence in most the major hurdles in my life thus far though none has challenged me in as many ways or to such a magnitude. I've also been told that death is only a matter of time, for the most part these are opinions of people that have no comprehension or knowledge of the lifestyle. People that could not tell you the class of a climb any better than they could climb it. In a sense though they're right death is not only a consequence but an intimate friend. Like a fighter pilot it's a consideration that is weighed heavily, to ignore it would be naive and dangerous. I'm not suicidal nor do have a death wish but when it really comes down to it yes, I'd rather fall to my death while climbing a mountain than die of cancer in a hospital. But that's a little over dramatic. Next weekend I'm just going to head out and do what has become an obsession.

Motivation and Training, SWAG Part 1 - Mar. 18

Being bit by the mountaineering bug this past summer I was dreading the onslaught of the winter season. I normally loath the winter, icy roads, less daylight, rejoicing in a cultural obligation to consume and provide materialistic gratification, all culminating in a state of obese depression brought on by a lack of motivation to reach beyond my remote control. Each winter adding a little additional mortar to the wall of complacency. This winter was different though, I'd found a compulsion that doesn't pack into the closet or hang in the garage. To the contrary, mountaineering thrives on adverse conditions, adds to the reward. Until this point my adventures as a weekend warrior wondering up well oiled grooves with 10 essentials neatly packed into my Walmart backpack could scarcely be considered mountaineering and would likely offend those who call themselves mountaineers.

Winter was just what I needed, the opportunity to transform a hobby driven by the pursuit of aesthetics and physical achievement into a lifestyle motivated by introspection and to the greatest degree exploration of personal boundaries. I say lifestyle because as it seems, I've become the type person that I used to quietly laugh at, the kind that hugs trees. I had long before attempted to swear off Christmas on principal alone but now I find myself refusing plastic bags, carrying reusable totes made entirely of hemp, if only I could smoke them life would be complete. Don't be confused though, I'm not a hippie, you don't find hippies climbing mountains. Without clarity of mind, mountains will make you dead.

Winter Mountaineering Clinic Part 1, X-Rock Durango Co. Knots, Rocks and Ropes - Mar. 18

I was fired up about the chance to continue my pursuits testing my metal against the elements, I was also a little scared. Even the easiest of climbs, or hikes for that matter are a whole different game in the winter. For a few months I'd been researching different schools for more technical alpine experience, specifically winter mountaineering. Skills and cost were my primary concern, I don't have the kind of money that adventurous doctors and lawyers shell out for a trophy ascent of Everest nor do I want to participate a dude ranch equivalent of a winter camping trip. A few schools stood out, Colorado Mountain Club's winter mountaineering course for one. Overall this seemed like a reasonable school for my requirements, probably the best bang for the buck but I had a few reservations. The first of which was their prerequisite of participation in more remedial outdoor courses prior to winter mountaineering. What I discerned as the like of hiking 101, basic compass skills, etc. While these are important skills, I was looking for something a little more advanced and frankly could be using my time more efficiently. Secondly, CMC structures their courses over a longer period of time, typically five weeks with field trips on the weekends if I recall. While this works well for the working professional I was more interested in an slightly more immersive experience, one that would give a more realistic taste of expedition. Finally, a bit of deal closer for me was an encounter with a CMC guide (not currently guiding for CMC) I had on a previous climb of Andrews Glacier. In short of what I described in my write up of this trip, I felt both the man and a fellow climber had made an extremely poor decision to venture out onto a frozen lake. Later in the day I caught up to the pair on my descent and learned that one was planning a guided trip back to this area, my impression was that man was not in the physical shape to be leading a strong group nor was he acting in a very responsible way. Overall to me this reflected poorly. By no means do I feel CMC is not a reputable school, just not what I was looking for.

Ultimately I decided on Southwest Adventure Guides and was enrolled in a 5 day course to take place in Durango Colorado. Over the next month I made preparations buying any remaining gear which I hadn't already purchased and on the afternoon of March 17th I was on my way. Arriving in Durango I set up at a hotel where I would sleep the first two nights, each day spent learning and practicing technical skills. My initial impression prior to beginning the course was good, I was pleased with SWAG's followup, ensuring that all preparations were made. I was a little concerned that SWAG had indicated that it wasn't necessary for me to meet them at their offices the day prior to the course to go over logistics of the trip (which is customary for out of state participants). I had a course itinerary but wasn't sure what if not all gear I would need for our first day or where we be spending it. As a result dressed for full winter conditions and brought my entire extended day pack to the first meeting. Shortly after arriving I met Keeton Disser office manager, and Matt Pickren our technical climbing guide, both of whom made me feel quite welcome. Finally I met Mike Nault the only other fellow client, this was a pleasant surprise as it made the guide to client ratio one to two. After a quick gear check we were off to X-Rock a local Durango trad hot spot.

We spent the remainder of the day in a crash course leaning technical rock skills including knots, rope management, anchors, etc. Climbing trad routes ranging from 5.7 to 5.9. In retrospect it was a great first experience with technical rock climbing, my only regret was being dressed for winter on a summer like day at low altitude...

You're Not Realy Climbing

So I like to alpine climb, anyone who is seriously into alpine climbing or technical climbing for that matter has at some point faced the battle between alpine and technical. Some who technical climb look at climbing a 14er like it's not really climbing, you're just walking up a long hill so what makes it a challenge outside of endurance anyway right. Those who alpine climb fail to see the beauty of technical climbing... you're just driving up to a wall scaling it then heading home right?

The thing about alpine climbing is that it's a battle of attrition, just like technical climbing challenges your calculations, you situational awareness, alpine climbing challenges you logistically, makes you think of the overall picture, you're not just in it for the crux, you're in it for the summit. Many have come before you and each has battled the internal will to continue.

I also enjoy technical climbing, though I thoroughly enjoy technical alpine climbing. What I find disheartining about technical climbing (referencing a recent read of climbing magazine) is that unless you're getting first ascent of a route, every step is planned out, you're either doing it the most efficient way or you're wasting energy. Up until the crux then your faced with a complex problem of which you need to find the solution, many of which before you have faced. If you're skilled you solve the riddle in the same way or even better. With alpine climbing you are the riddle, many before you have faced the same problem but ultimately the solution is personal fortitude.

I really don't like to read that John is climbing this route and he is now at the two move crux of the climb. If he grabs left and jams his right foot above the shoulder he'll have it. To me this is contrived, the solution has already been determined. Rather I prefer I solutions that test the will.

I also prefer the consequences of alpine climbing, when technical climbing your almost exclusively in situations where given a gear failure you would most certainly fall to you're death. But in a sense the consequences are a crutch, because it would be crazy to climb this portion unprotected you can rely on the rope as safety mechanism. Whereas in many cases while alpine climbing it's not technical enough to require a rope but a slip, be it on a non vertical slope would result in the same conclusion. Take walking a flat knife edge with 1500 ft. vertical drop on either side for example. The traverse may only be a walk but the fall is just as fatal, except in this case more often than not you're safety net is you not the rope.

Reflections

Climbing a mountain is about putting yourself in adverse conditions whether technical 5.9 routes or 5 mile approaches. It's not about being the first or climbing higher than another because truly, others cannot be the metric by which you measure your achievement.

They lack a sense of forgiveness forcing you to become more realistic or in a very real sense, true to yourself. At times while being faced with decisions that carry very final immediate consequences you perform at the peak of endurance, mental strength, nirvana.