Not Even 30 Anymore...

Bring on 31!

On my first day of being 31 I thought I would take some time to reflect and catch up on the past few months.  Time has absolutely flown by since I boarded an Air France flight back to North America back at the beginning of August.   I’ve crossed the continent twice now, seen old friends and new, racked up hotel and rental car awards points and experienced just about every weather condition possible. 

It’s been two months since I left Mosul and I feel like I’m starting to gain perspective on the entire experience.  Unequivocally I am glad I did it.  Aside from the fact that the experience has now provided me the freedom to pursue anything I choose, the experience of travelling to and working in a war zone was worth it in and of itself.  I set out on the journey on a leap of faith that it was all going to work out for the best and aside from a minor meltdown early on, I continued to feel over the year that while honestly, it sucked, it was still a good choice to make the leap.  Two months out now I can see how it has affected me in an overwhelmingly positive way. 

Although I might not always appear to show it, the trip boosted my confidence, fueled my passions, and taught me the importance of being independent.  More than that, I learned, out of sheer necessity really, how to be comfortable being independent.  As anyone that has worked in a firehouse would agree it doesn’t matter if people surround you 24 hours a day, the firehouse can still be a very lonely place.  So for that, I am eternally grateful.   There are more lessons to come as they sort themselves out, but for now, I just feel so lucky to be home safe with my ten fingers, ten toes, and not a complete psychological mess! 

I’m nearing the end of the beginning of my time travelling.  I’m in Canmore, Alberta battling the weather but still have a few more days out planned before I fly back to DC next week.  From there, it will be time to buy a vehicle, something I’m not to psyched to do because I feel like that will somehow make me feel tied down.  Yeah, no irony there.  I’ll be in and out of the mid-Atlantic for a couple weeks before hitting the road with a new friend and climbing our way across the county.  I’m am so psyched and thankful to be having these opportunities.  So far I have only had to fight off one urge to return immediately to the workforce.  From what I hear, that urge will go away soon and Ill be surprised at how comfortable a lack of structure and unemployment become.  As a friend of mine told me as we drank beers on the bridge in Yosemite, “allow yourself to have what will probably end up being one of the best years of your life.”  Hmmm…ok. 

Rain, Snow, and Adventure Climbing: Tales from a week making it work in the Canadian Rockies

For the past six days I’ve been calling Canmore, Alberta home.   In fact, for most of the week prior while I was basking in the sun of interior BC, I would actually tell people, when asked, that I was from Canmore when I felt like having fun and/or wasn’t up to the longer truer answer that used to be simple but for now remains complicated.  Canmore sprawls along the Bow River in the Bow Valley just outside of Banff National Park.

I pretty much fell in love with Canmore on my first visit here last summer.   The Rocky Mountains stand on either side of this valley, they loom really, like extremely proud teenagers.  They aren’t old and green like the Appalachians that welcome you and make you feel at home.  Quite the contrary, these mountains almost dare you to enter them.  When I first saw them last year I had only one thought, “I need to climb better.”  Its easy to quickly feel outclassed in these hills.   But still, these mountains more then any other I have encountered, compel me to enter them.  I want to learn and train and develop the skills necessary to earn their respect so that they may grant me safe passage.   To me, these mountains present a challenge from which I simply cannot walk away.    

To that end, I came to Canmore to work with my favorite guide and mentor, a Canmore local and Canadian Rockies superhero Sarah Hueniken.  She doesn’t wear a cape, or have knee high boots and blue tights…that I know of anyway….but her  professionalism, proficiency and stymieing ability are nothing short of super powers.  This is not a love fest of smoke blowing, but a truly honest assessment that if these mountains outclass most mere mortals, then Sarah and her group of peers that guide here, are truly a cut above.

The Bow Valley finds some sun. The Three Sisters on the left.

My goals for this week weren’t especially outrageous.  I mean, after all, I just started climbing again after a year off. I am though at a point in my climbing where there is still much to learn, but I’m also not interested in necessarily just going after an objective and being lead around all day.  Ive been fortunate to work with Sarah before and know her commitment to helping folks increase their self sufficiency so when I emailed her and said, “I want to hire you for a week, but I want to lead most of it,” I knew she would be keen. 

The story this week was the weather.  To quote, “this is the worst f#*&@ing weather we have ever had.”  Our first day, Monday, was a total washout and turned into a rest day for me which was probably a good thing given I had just spent five days clipping bolts and getting pumped in Skaha.  Sarah and I agreed to remain optimistic about Tuesday even though the forecast was poor.  We decided to check in with each other in the morning and after a short delay we finally met up and headed out on Tuesday around 8 am…in the rain.  We spent two hours driving around the entire area trying really just to see some routes through the low gray clouds.  We struck out completely, and in an effort to salvage the day we headed back to Canmore and the local crag Grassi Lakes.

Grassi is a sport crag full of pocketed overhanging walls with friendly bolts.  Knowing that I was interested in getting on the sharp end, Sarah offered up the first lead to me.  Given conditions and my general insecurities that creep in when climbing around amazing climbers, whether they are your guide or not, it was actually a surprisingly bold move on my part that I accepted the rope and jumped on the route.  It was an overhanging 5.8 or 9 with a million bolts that I managed to climb cleanly.  When I was back safely on the ground, Sarah offered up some much desired, and apparently needed, advice on my form and movement.  First words out of her mouth, “Ok, this isn’t ice climbing.”   You wouldn’t know it given the temps, but her point was that my movements weren’t dynamic.  Hands, hands, feet, feet, more like climbing a ladder rather than actually being dynamic and utilizing the features of the rock in the most beneficial way.  We talked about twist locks, using both sides of my feet, extending my reach, and using the most appropriate part of a hold even if its not the most positive or intuitive feeling.   

These are pretty basic concepts, but Ill admit, I hadn’t really thought about it in the ways she had described, nor had I really been on routes tough enough that it demanded that solid of technique.  We spent part of the day climbing routes just above my grade so I could apply the lessons of my first climb and when I was thoroughly pumped we switch into some rescue technique reviews and quizzes.  All in all a shitty weather day but we made it work.

One of the super featured walls at Grassi Lakes.

Wednesday turned out to be one of our best weather days of the week but given the snow in high elevations, chilly temps, and threat of afternoon rain we decided on an objective right in town, the East Ridge of Lady Macdonald.  Lady Mac is one of those proud mountains that looms over town so I was definitely keen to get on the climb.  In what turned out to be on of the nicest surprises and addition to this week, Sarah’s friend Claire joined us for the day.  The plan was to let me have a go at leading the route with Claire as my second.  This allowed Sarah to solo around on the easier bits and provide coaching for both of us.  This is a wickedly awesome opportunity not often dealt out by a guide and really priceless in terms of developing climbers.    After a tough 2 hour approach requiring multiple stream crossings and a steep scramble we roped up and headed towards the ridge. 

This was my re-introduction to the crumbling rock of the Canadian Rockies and climbing in mountaineering boots and while it got my attention I felt pretty comfortable. Its most likely because Sarah was normally just a few feet in front of me giving me what she called “a false sense of security.”  When we got to the business pitch of the trip, I changed into my climbing shoes and Sarah tied into the rope. Pretty good compromises I think.  Sarah offered to take my pack, but in my continued random acts of boldness I kept it on and headed off.   I brought them both up and we continued on to the ridge and short pitching and short pitching and short pitching. 

Getting down to business on the East Ridge of Lady Mac. A quick pitch to gain the ridge proper.  Mad kudos to Sarah H., my Fairy Guide Mother, for a sweet photo!

In my limited experience short pitching along a ridge seems to equal: Take up coils, climb for 15 meters, maybe put in one piece of pro along the way, find something remotely resembling an anchor, straddle some rock and bring up or over your second.  Repeat. Repeat and repeat.  While at times it became tedious the experience of doing it over and over again actually really just reinforced the lesson of what we were doing. It was a great learning experience.  All along the way Sarah was dropping hints, I mean, educating me, about ways to be more efficient because speed is safety in mountains…and we were cold and the skies were looking ugly.  Good bits of wisdom like when you are bringing up your second, look ahead to the next pitch, if you are going to transition modes do what you can while they are climbing to be ready for that…ergo…if you have the full rope out and are switching to short pitches, start taking up coils while you are belaying.  At the time, the thought of doing that pretty much blew my mind, I had enough to manage, but I look forward to continue practicing that and the other things we covered.  We topped out on Lady Mac and after a brief stop at an abandoned tea house where we finally were allowed to eat, drink, and pee and laugh, we headed down the hikers walk off in the rain.  Claire was a super trooper, a patient climber and an absolute joy to have along.  Awesome day.

Working the 5.5 ridge.

Thursday turned out to be a full on weather day and we elected to go to our corners stay dry and rest up for another big day on Friday.  I got a good gym workout in the hotel fitness center and felt pleased that my body wasn’t wrecked from the 10 hour effort the day before.   Sweet, all that time in the gym in Iraq paid off.

Fridays weather was tenuous.  Big kudos for Sarah and her part time work as a meteorologist.  Constantly checking all of the websites and webcams to find the warmest and driest routes for us to get on.  Basically just trying to find a way to make it work.   On Friday we were joined by Laurie, aka Zippy, one of my favorite people to get out with, and we headed to Takkakaw Falls optimistic that the snow line would be above us and that we might by chance get some afternoon sun.  It wasn’t actively raining and we were all in good spirits so we set off to what rockclimbing.com calls “the worst rock climbing in North America in the most amazing setting in North America.” 

The plan was for Zippy and I to swing leads on the 10 pitches of traversing and 5.6 climbing.  When we got to the base of the quartzite route the first pitch was dripping wet with puddles in the positive holds.  Sarah decided it was best for her to jump out front so we could get used to the wet rock, climbing with gloves, and socks in our climbing shoes.  A pretty good idea given the mind fuck that wet rock can cause.   After the first pitch we did swing leads and had a great time wondering up the large face alongside a gigantic waterfall. 

Off I go into the wetness on Takkakaw.

We got to one of the more difficult pitches and it was my lead.  Just before I left the anchor Sarah mentioned that there is a move on this pitch that always gets her attention.  Even though it was protected by a bolt I could probably have done without that level of honesty from her whereas I climbed up to the crux and completely unfocused took a short whipper.   Bummed but not pissed that I didn’t climb the route cleanly I did jump back on work through it and finish the pitch complete with a crappy .75 placement  that its probably good I didn’t fall on.  I brought up those two gals and Sarah linked up the rest of the pitches  which ultimately dead ended in a 60 meter belly crawl through a cave! Wtf! Awesome adventure climbing.  We stripped everything off our harnesses, donned our plastic pants (rain paints) and headed into the abyss.  I love caving, always have, and the best part is always the accompanying soundtrack of laughter, grunting and most often when it involves adults, an exceptional amount of cussing.   This was no exception.

The tunnel opened up to the very top of the falls.  We were tucked away where none of the myriads of binocular touting tourists could see us.  We sat and enjoyed the view and had a very serious, all be it bizarre and troubling conversation about how we would jump across the falls to the rock on the other side if for some reason our lives depended on it.  Thankfully we were safe that day and didn’t have to test any of our theories.  We ducked back in the cave, repeated the string of grunting and expletives, and set off on reversing the route through a series of rappels and traverses.  

Zippy and I pondering how we would make the leap across.

As we finished the route blue skies were nearly everywhere and the bright sunshine warmed our very chilly bodies.  Rockclimbing.coms description of the route was really only half true, the climbing was fun and not terrible but it just might have been one of the most beautiful places in North America.   We ended the day with beers and dinner at the Post in Lake Louise satisfied from a great day.  As usual we were probably a bit rowdy with laughter for the Post, but it was awesome nonetheless.

Two girls and their guide on the summit. No Jumping allowed.

So what was initially planned to be five full days of climbing turned into three weather driven and differently challenging days.  I can already tell that I am a better and more confident climber than I was a week ago.  Ive identified some weaknesses, one in particular that could really fuck me some day, and got some really positive feedback about the things I’m doing well.  Under really difficult circumstances Sarah pulled together some very educational and fun days. 

Yosemite Photo Blog

Back in August, me and some of my homies, yeah these guys are some of them, went to Yosemite....and got SCHOOLED! There is just too much to say about this trip so Im just going to throw up some photos.  All in all...battleing frigid and scorching temps, mind blowing runouts, and some really long approaches we had a great time and major learning occurred! This trip represented my official full on return to climbing and while my climbing wasn't where I wanted it to be, Im psyched I went and was super lucky to have wonderfully patient and fun partners.

So that over there on the right is a pic taken in Tuolumne....we spent a few days up there trying to get used to the rock and the weather...9000 feet and full on snow, hail, rain, etc.

As a result of the temps and us getting our bearings we went out to do some top roping for a bit and even that proved to be difficult!  Colleen busted out all of her SPI magic although my favorite quote from this day was uttered just after I was lowered over the edge: "Oh, this is never going to work." Pretty sure this picture was taken just following what never worked. 

It was warm for a second, and I got bored...so, well push ups seemed like a good idea.

This is Ana topping out on Holdless Horror, a sweet 4 pitch 5.6 in Tuolume that we swapped leads on. Ana got the business pitches and did an awesome job. Super fun day on Dozier Dome.

   This is Dozier Dome....Holdess Horror and Bull Dozier routes are to the right of center.

After a few really cold, but clear days in Tuolumne, we were all ready to head to the Valley where we heard it was still summer. We had dreams of climbing in capris, (yes the boys too!) and tank tops and generally feeling our extremities again.  Our drive down into the Valley was spectacular and our first glimpse of the great ones was awesome....

Unless you live under a rock instead of on one, you probably recognize these guys...the jewels of the Valley El Capitan and Half Dome.

On the major list of "donts" that we learned about the hard way was Curry Village. On paper, err,  I guess on line it seemed like a good idea at the time. Little tent cabins and amenities near by.  Sure, there were little tent cabins, and they were cute, but there were 900 little tent cabins and this isnt my usual hyperbole.  We had just come from a nice quiet campsite up in the meadows and we all experience major culture shock when we rejoined "the people" and the American LARGESS in Curry Village. 

These rows of tents went on and on and on.....we got lost numerous times trying to find our shanty.  They were though warm and comfortable with nice beds and linens.  I had the extreme pleasure of having the next door bathhouse light in my face each night which added extra charm.

In an effort to get on one of the major classics, Colleen and I opted to share a guide for the 16 pitch 5.7 A0 Royal Arches.  It was a long long meandering day but definitely worth the time and energy...even if it meant 10 rappels in blazing hot sun.

On the last climbing day of our trip, three of us, Colleen, Edwin and myself went after another classic, this time the 5.7 on Half Dome.  With a daunting six mile approach, a million pitches of runout slab, and a nine mile descent, we were successful in making it a complete epic that took 22 hours including wandering around on top of Half Dome in the super dark looking for the descent cables, some granite steps, and trying desperately to quite literally not walk off a cliff.  I hate to say it, but if Colleen hadn't been able to pull up some much needed beta on her iPhone, we might still be up there.

Snake Dike follows the left horizon...forever....and tops out with 2000 feet of Class 3 slabs to nowhere.

Better get out the flag while we still have sunlight...the summit was at least another hour away at this point, but it still made for a good picture! Thanks Edwin and Colls for a helluva a day!

It was a great trip full of interesting surprises, challenging moments, loads of laughter, singing and the occasional speeding ticket. We encountered nearly every weather condition imaginable and definitely got ourselves into climbing that got our attention.  Ill look forward to going back a little bit stronger and a whole lot wiser!

One last picture....because I think its cool! One of our late night food fests in Tuolumne......

Repost from Chicks Climbing Blog. "Defining Adventure"

This is a repost from a blog entry I did for Chicks With Picks last Winter.  The words continue to ring true for me as I get ready to make another move.

by: Sarah Goldman
My words hung, suspended in air above the table. I could see each member of my fire department duty shift processing what I had just said. “I am resigning, effective immediately. I’ve accepted a contract firefighting position in Iraq.“ The only thing louder than the silence in the room was my heart thumping in my chest and my throat. I watched the words sink in; I could see the judgments forming. It was the same each time I had told someone about my decision and upcoming adventure.

What makes me, a woman on the brink of my 30s with a solid secure job and the freedom to find as many climbing days as the calendar allows, chuck it all and travel 8000 miles away to a seemingly endless, unpopular war with zero opportunity to climb, enjoy a microbrew, or sport a nose piercing? Change? Risk? Adventure? Opportunity? Hope? The pursuit of a wild dream? All of the above?

As I think more about these words and the spirit behind them, I realize these are the reasons so many of us are drawn to climb. As climbers and adventurers, we look at a massive granite spire and think, “what if?” It is in the same spirit that we eye a job opening in Boulder from home in Cincinnati and think “why not now?” I left stability in Virginia and came to Iraq because I was due for an adventure and even more ready for change.

I’ve known it was time to shake things up since my first Chicks With Picks experience nearly 2 years ago. My life, while exceptionally comfortable and one no doubt worthy of envy, had left me feeling cornered, firmly entrenched in a rut and just plain bored. I liked my job as a firefighter, but I knew that it wasn’t going to be my life’s work. I’d spent the past 20 years in Virginia and finally accepted its highest point tops out at barely 5000 feet, so I knew a change of scenery was needed. I suppose I was happy enough, but passionate? Excited? Energized? Not so much.

There are many who don’t understand why I would walk away from what I had, but these often seem to be the same people who don’t understand why we clip bolts, plug gear and stick hard ice. For the most part these same people value, consistency over spontaneity, financial stability over chance, and resorts over road trips. Adventurers are people of courage, people of faith. Faith that things work out, that the universe will provide. They are doers and decision makers. Most often they are not shy and they are not timid. They act when others choose to idle. They choose the risk, when others choose security. Adventure is both a state of being and a state of doing. It is in some, and definitely not in others.

I applied for the position in Iraq and kept expecting for it to somehow not work out. When the doors kept opening and the reality set in that this decision was now going to be up to me, and not the universe to make, I knew, being me, I had to take the chance. Just as any of you cant deny an offer to scope a new crag, or try a new route. I got the call while sitting on a park bench in Calgary, after three amazing weeks in Alberta. My life in Virginia was literally and figuratively thousands of miles away.

I have been in Iraq now for nearly 3 months. The time both crawls and flies depending on my mood. I live in a firehouse on an Army Forward Operating Base with around 25 other firefighters. Each day is the same. Morning meeting, eat, train, eat, work out, eat, call home, dream, repeat. The work is not hard, and I feel fortunate that through my adventure I have the opportunity to support and protect thousands of men and women in the military. Whatever your views on this war, these men and women are sacrificing on our behalf and that cannot be overlooked or underappreciated.

Unlike the members of the military, who do not have an option, I don’t plan to be here long; as I mentioned, being a firefighter is not my life work. I‘ll be here until next summer, or maybe a bit longer. For me, this is a year of transition. It is my first move. Due to responsibilities back home, changing my life couldn’t happen overnight, and I’ll venture to say for anyone over the age of 21 this is probably the case. If it, the adventurist spirit, is in you, which, if you have found your way to this blog it most likely is, and you feel the stink of stagnation into your life, then act. Consider your wildest dreams; consider the life you wish you were having. I don’t know what is next for me, but I take comfort in knowing what is not. I plan to pursue my wildest dream, or dreams as it may turn out to be. As we say in climbing, make the first move, and the next will appear.

Perhaps one of the greatest compliments I have ever been given came from the Head Chick when I told her I had skipped the states and would be working in Iraq. She called me a true adventurer. Thank you Kim, and all of the Chicks touting picks. I didn’t get here alone and Ill enjoy the help finding my way home. Leave the anchors set, I’ll be back soon.

Check out the rest of the blog and all its awesomeness at:

http://www.chickswithpicks.net/alumnae-news/defining-adventure/

Its Different

I spent part of my morning today watching Nike ads on You Tube and the Tour de France on Versus.  As a result Im overflowing with mojo and swirling in psych.  At the same time, Im dizzy, and Im standing.  Lately, Ive begun to realize, that for the first time, in a ridiculously long time, if not perhaps ever, I am getting ready to embark on a journey for which I have no idea the destination.  

I am Virgo. I hear that makes me competitive and goal oriented.  I am a planner.  Most of my life decisions are strategic.  No doubt the decisions to leave Fairfax, come to Iraq, quit the Fire Department, and now ultimately leave Iraq have all been with an endgame in sight.    I wanted to have the time and resources to do whatever I wanted. To pursue any dream, any whim, any curiosity.  And through my deliberate decision making and thought out planning I have that.  Mission Accomplished.  In about one week Ill be looking down the barrel at a clean slate and boundless opportunity, but there is no goal at the end, no finish line.

I am going to spend the next fair bit of time dedicating my days to climbing and pursuing other outdoor sports along the way.  Ill be focusing on being vertical, my health, my wellness and on all the people who will come along the way.  The part that is different about this is that I’m doing it, just to do it.   Its not a part of some grand scheme or a step in a path.  Not really anyway. 

Yes, it freaks me out that I have no plan, but I’m recognizing that on some days I’m more ok with it than I might have ever imagined.  On those days, I’m content to surf the current of the universe.  This flies in the face of the part of me that always wonders what I am going to be next and how I can meticulously, obsessively, plot how to get there.  Letting go of that drive is liberating.  Surprising for some of you reading this that can probably remember me saying, “Im going to be President of the United States.”  And when you gave me the “that’s nice” smile, I grabbed you with both hands and said, “I’m serious,” and I meant it.

But on other days, the Virgo in me rears her head and out comes the notebook, the internet, usajobs.gov, the guidebooks, the AMGA pre-requisites, the 0-6 month, the 6-18 month and the 18-36 month plans.   On those days I wonder if meeting my goals, whatever they are, is just a matter of proper scheduling and asking the right people for advice.   

In the end though no matter which type of day it is or how at any particular moment I’m feeling, when it comes right down to it, I don’t know where the next year will take me.  And I don’t care. I want to do this because I genuinely want the experiences I am about to have.  I have a bit of an idea where it might lead, but if it doesn’t I’m open to that too because its not the reason for the journey.  Not today, anyway. 

Republished from WSI Connections Magazine, March 2010

Below is an article I was asked to write for the WSI Connections Magazine. It is a recount of the events of January 9, 2010. January was a hard month for me this year, the toughest actually. Thanks to all who were a part of my support system during that tough time.

*****

It has been my pleasure and honor to be a member of the WSLLC Fire and Emergency Services family here in Iraq since September of 2009.  I have enjoyed camaraderie amongst my peers, valuable training, and a once in a lifetime opportunity to protect those who protect freedom.  On a typical day, we respond to emergency calls, conduct fire inspections, and participate in training exercises.  For all intensive purposes, we are like any other fire department conducting routine fire department business.  On the morning of January 9, 2010 I was personally reminded that we are very much operating in a war zone and things are anything but routine.

While conducting standard physical fitness training at the Division MRW, the base at which I was working sustained a mortar attack.  I was nearing the end of my workout on the rowing machine, pleasantly listening to Lady GaGa on my iPod when I heard and felt an extremely loud bang.  I can only describe it as someone slamming the largest door they could find the hardest they possibly could.  Dust and smoke filled the building I was in as soldiers around me immediately hit the deck taking shelter in the doorways .I struggled to free myself from the foot brackets on the rowing machine, even laughing to myself that I was stuck on the machine.   I remember realizing that the bang was a mortar and also that it was extremely close.  When I finally freed my feet I joined the soldiers and other civilians on the floor for a few seconds and then together we fled to the concrete bunker that was just outside the main doors of the gym.

Just a few moments after entering the bunker I heard multiple voices shouting and a distinct call for a medic.  I looked around the bunker and no one moved.  Given my ten years as an Emergency Medical Technician I responded hoping I could be of help.  What I saw when I emerged from the bunker was a partly flattened MWR facility and a soldier laying a civilian down on the ground.  As I ran towards them, I could see other soldiers bringing more bodies out of the leveled structure.   

When I approached the first of the wounded civilians, my mass casualty training both from my department back home in Fairfax County, Virginia and  WSLLC-Iraq kicked in.  While simultaneously assessing the condition of the patient before me, I began to step back and get an overall picture of the situation.  The first victim I encountered was pulseless and not breathing.  As difficult as it is to imagine, I knew that there might be others I could help and that this man was most likely not going to survive.  I initiated triage of all of the wounded, including entering another bunker where other casualties had been brought for safety.  Training teaches us that ensuring victims have an open airway is a priority.   I assessed all of the casualties breathing and stopped at one point to show a soldier how to manually hold open the airway of a man that was struggling to breath.    Ultimately, I returned to the first casualty and initiated CPR as a plan for transporting the victims came together.  Soldiers began pulling up personal vehicles and we loaded the most critical of patients first for transport to the Troop Medical Clinic.   Eventually, all of the injured were evacuated from the scene.

There is no doubt that morning will serve as a defining moment of my time in Iraq.  There are so many things that strike me about the event that I am still struggling to put it in perspective.    Mortar attacks vary in their frequency and severity, and while we still take incoming rounds on base, I feel no less safe.  

There were in fact fatalities that morning; two of them were men to which I rendered aid.  They were not soldiers; they were not Americans.  They were subcontract workers employed to clean the gym and keep water stocked in the coolers.  They were men taking advantage of an opportunity to support their families in their home country.  But on that morning you would not have known there was any difference between us.  The soldiers on the scene that morning reacted with no less urgency than had it been on the battlefield.  The ex-patriot contractors responded just as it had been a fellow employee.  Race, religion, and occupation ceased to matter.  A life, is after all a life.

Note: I was in fact given an award for my limited actions on that day.  It was a nice gesture and as you can see I am smiling, but honestly, during the ceremony I just wanted to dig a hole in the ground and crawl in it.  

The Cirque Ladies

These 3 ladies are awesome...they are heading into the Cirque of the Unclimbables way the hell up there in the Yukon. They are attempting to free the Original Route on Mt. Proboscis (VI 5.9+ A3).

There journey will include multi-media updates and will surely prove to be inspirational. Follow them along at: http://cirqueladies.wordpress.com.

Photo: Lorna Kllingsworth, Emily Stifler and Madaleine Sorkin at Yose.

Planning the Prologue

Seeing as how I’ve officially tendered my resignation from WSI, effective, July 29, I thought it would be fitting to post an update on the plans for my big adventure. I’m filled with lots of different emotions these days as my time in Iraq winds ever so slowly to a close. I’m looking forward to some time and space from here to get some much needed perspective on the whole thing. We’ve been super busy  and its been nice to see just a bit more fire before hanging up this helmet putting this career on the shelf.

Never worry though, there has been plenty of time to keep dreaming about and planning what I am now calling the “Prologue.” I leave Iraq on July 31 and will be spending the majority of August and September travelling. This isn’t the official start of my road trip, hence the term Prologue, but rather a chance to get out, get reacquainted with the non war-world, myself, my family, friends and also the rock. My first stop, after landing in Seattle and making a run for the border, is Squamish. If all goes well I’ll be meeting up with a nice fella I met when I pimped myself in the online climbing forums, to climb in the area and kill some time waiting for MY MOM to make it to Vancouver. I’m so psyched she is coming out to play with me! I think my parents get pretty exhausted following all of my adventures, so I’m so happy shes agreed to tag along on one! Good on ya mama!

After a couple weeks there Ill finally be heading back east to Washington DC. By then I will have been away from “home” for just shy of 12 months. Ill be around for enough time to check in with the rest of the family, share many margaritas with friends, head to NC to meet my best friends new son and rescue my climbing gear from safekeeping under her dress shirts in her closet. There will be boxes to move, clothes to purge, and dark leafy greens to eat. I’m going to try to squeeze in a quick trip up to the Gunks too, in order to give a huge supporter of mine a big hug and a safe belay.

What comes next is surely going to prove to be a packing nightmare. At the end of August I’m heading out to Yosemite to climb and camp amongst the giants with members of the super awesome Potomac Mountain Club. This will be my first climbing trip in quite awhile and I’m completely stoked for the location and the company. Objectives will be in both the Valley and Tuolumne and my goals are to relax, climb, and hopefully get back on the sharp end. Directly from there I’m heading back to Canada but more to the east to one of my favorite new places Canmore and the Banff National Park area. This is where the packing gets tricky.

Canada in September equals alpine. Well, for me it does. Well, at the very least it means unpredictable weather and conditions. Ill have to prepared for everything and while that’s not such a huge deal, I hope no one at Yosemite eyeballs me for my ice axe and crampons tucked away in my bag assuming that I think Ill be using them there in August. Furthermore, I’m super excited about all of the excess baggage fees I’m going to be paying as I fly around North America in circles. I’ll be spending the balance of September in Alberta hooking up with semi-new, new, and brand new friends before ultimately heading back to the east coast of the US.

Come October it will be time to purchase a vehicle; van or truck, the jury is still out, call it my home and hit the road. That’s when things will get really interesting. I’m trying not be overwhelmed about heading out into the great abyss so I’ve decided to think of my trip as a climbing route. Make small moves. Make one move and the next one will appear.

So for now, the move I’m focused on is getting out of the Middle East safe and enjoying the prologue.

Arlene Blum and Has Women's Climbing Failed?

While on my journey in Nepal I got the chance to do some great reading. On my way out of the Himalaya I bargained with a shop keeper in Namche and acquired Arlene Blums, “Breaking Trail” for a mere 650 rupees. Arlenes story kept me company through Lukla, Kathmandu and ultimately my travels back to the Middle East.

Arlene’s book chronicles both her pioneering climbing career along with her extraordinary advancements in Chemistry. She is really pretty amazing: lead the first all women's trip on Denali, first American woman to attempt Everest, the "A Woman's Place is On Top" Annapurna trip AND a PhD with research that led to a Federal ban on the methyl-ethyl-death on childrens PJs. Like many other mountaineering books, Breaking Trail has rich descriptions of climbing expeditions that inspire day dreaming and personal goal setting.

One of the key themes of Arlene’s memoir is her perpetual challenge with sexism and anti-Semitism in climbing. A number of times in her book she references a July 1981, Outside Magazine article entitled “Has Women’s Climbing Failed?” The subtitle read, “Why has the Course of Women’s Climbing Led to Tragedy.” Regarding the article, she writes “it proclaimed in glossy detail that not only do women climbers tend to have inadequate skills and experience, they often climb for the wrong reason—to prove something about women.” Granted, this was 1981, but it got me wondering about how much things have changed.

This year saw the first ascent of all 14 8000 meter peaks by a woman. In 2005 Ines Papert wins the Ouray Ice Festival outright beating all women AND men by more then 2 minutes. In 1993 Lynn Hill frees The Nose. But what is the rest of the story?

Mostly, I write this because I’m floored that Outside would have published an article as inflammatory as that even in 1981. I mean hell, I was alive then! I wonder more, what they would write today, 30 years later. If I were to write the article and do the research, what would I find? Are women climbing now to prove something about women? And even if they are, is there anything wrong with that? How do women stack up in modern alpinism? If we aren’t equal, why not?

I realize that this could seem like a somewhat trite discussion on gender equality etc, but the fact remains, I’m curious about the answers to these questions, and I’m not sure where to find them. Ironically, when I Googled “outside and women’s climbing and failed” one of the first ten hits lead to an article about women firefighters and sexual discrimination. What those topics have to do with one another in a life other than mine I don’t know, but it got a chuckle out of me nonetheless.

So, whats the story ladies? What would Outside write today? I realize that this could start a shit storm, but so be it.

P.S. “Breaking Trail” is a great read and certainly a must for any women alpinists with a sense of history and pride for where we came from.

Back to Life, Back to Reality....

I've been back in Iraq for just less then a week now. My trip to Nepal was everything you can hope a trip to Nepal would be. Amazing people, amazing scenery, rugged conditions, smelly, eye opening, FUN, relaxing, thought provoking, inspiring, and on and on. Given the fact that the electricity in most places I stayed consisted of a car battery tucked away in the kitchen somewhere I wasn’t able to update my blog as I travelled.

I've been looking through my journal, trying to piece together some things that make sense but at the moment I’m slammed up against the wall of compartmentalization. I definitely learned a lot while I was there, gained a very interesting perspective on the big mountain guiding industry and felt completely affirmed about my decisions for the future. I will eventually find the words and the perspective and hopefully post something worth reading. Honestly though, we are so busy here at times that its all I can do to make it though each day. So for now, its just back to life, back to reality…..

The B.T.C.

This was originally going to be a post about my stay at the Baghdad Transit Center. Part bus station, part international airport and ALL travel hell, all roads in and out of Iraq lead to the BTC. Imagine what it would be like to add bunk beds to the waiting room at the Department of Motor Vehicles, throw in 24-7 announcements on a PA, and 15 minute walk in 120 degree heat to the nearest food and you are starting to get the idea. Don't forget, however, that 50% of residents don't know where or more importantly, when, they are, because they are still experiencing major jet lag from a 17 hour transatlantic flight. There is no joy at the BTC.

After reviewing what I wrote in my journal last month during my most recent stay at the BTC, it occurred to me that the big bad enemy might be reading this and I could unwittingly be revealing some big secret about operations in Iraq. So, this is all I am going to post...but come grab a beer with me some day and Ill tell you all about it.

A Crazy Week: Work, a Brain Tumor, and Nepal.

Wow, this has been a crazy week. For starters, we have been spectacularly busy here at Diamondback. Audits, training, and inspections; the usual sort of thing, just a shit ton more of it. When I first signed on the dotted line to come over here, we all thought I would be bored stupid and we brainstormed ideas for how to stay busy. The reality turned out to be that we work, and we work, a lot. Downtime is hard to come by and normally its filled with taking care of the essentials of daily life. But, I came here to work every day for year so I could not work every day of the following year, so Im cool with this, even if it is exhausting.

Second, I find out a close friend of mine has a brain tumor…or more accurately, had a brain tumor. Its out, it not cancer, she will live. She’s a warm, thoughtful, deep soul that I care about immensely and I have no doubt that this will only impact her life in a positive way. If someone can turn brain surgery into a positive thing, she can. This news still cuts like a laser when you are 6000 miles away and treading water in a job and place that at this point is serving little purpose other than filling up the piggy bank.

Third, in 10 days I start travel to Nepal. If you have managed to cut through the news of the Times Square bomb, the hemorrhaging oil line in the Gulf, the devastation in Tennessee and some little thing happening in Greece, then you have seen that things in Nepal are well, challenged? Im going to try to not use subjective descriptors here because I really don’t have all the facts, but short story: Major Maoist strike for most of the week bringing all industry, tourism, and commerce to a stand still. No public transportation, tourists confined to their hotels, limited fuel and supplies. Their Constitution expires on May 28, while I’m there, and a new one has yet to be drafted. As of today, the strike has been lifted and I’m being reassured by my contacts in country that things are returning to something resembling normal. Whatever normal looks like in a country like Nepal.

I’ll admit, following the news out of Nepal I initially considered changing my plans. Who would have thought that going anywhere from Iraq would or could actually be more dangerous? But, after reviewing more of the facts and getting information from sources in the country, I’ve decided to see this trip now as an even greater opportunity. If there is a chance for historical tourism than this is it.

More on all of this to come, but the crazy week continues.

French Toast, Balance and Forgiveness

This week got off to a great start. I was feeling awesome, busting out two days, feeling skinny, strong, and even a little sexy. And then Wednesday happened. Ill admit, I was feeling kinda crappy by the evening on Tuesday. A wee bit spectral, spacey and generally in that low carb fog. I pushed through my work out Wednesday morning but come breakfast, I was spent. I was feeling really hypo and most of my body ached, so I figured a healthy dose of some carbs and fat would help. This was my major rationalization to plow through a plate of French Toast, 3 breakfast sausages, 5 eggs, and maybe even a donut. Plus, I figured what is one meal out of the 20 plus I would eat all week? For the record, it was great. Over the course of the morning I got some energy back, my muscles started to feel better and I was smiling again. Carbs aren’t all bad after all.

It is Saturday now and I have learned one thing over the past few days: French toast is a gateway drug, don’t let anyone tell you different. What started as a simple temporary indulgence has lead to a full on carbohydrate extravaganza complete with white bread, cream cheese filled donuts, bagels and chocolate chip cookies. Additionally, if it is edible and has any surface area whatsoever I have found a way to slather it with peanut butter including but not limited to, carrots, chicken breasts and even a bite of a chocolate donut.

This is how it typically goes for me. A few hyper disciplined days, followed by a few not so disciplined days. Sometimes it bugs me that I cant stay consistent, other times, I more forgiving of myself. As with most things for me that tricky concept of “balance” still eludes me.

Food and mood definitely go hand in hand, maybe even two-fold over here. While there is so much consistency in our day to day here, emotions tend to ride on a separate track of up, down, over, under and around. Some days, super tough workouts and strict eating make me happy, other days, lazy cardio and syrup covered breakfasts do. I’m learning not to beat myself up over either and accept that each day is its own and my best effort for that day is all I can ask for.

Phhhtness

I am trying something new this week. I’ve been doing two –a-day work outs for a couple of weeks now and I don’t know that I’m seeing the benefits I would like. This is coming from a lack of mental discipline due to some boredom on my part, so I’m turning my days on end. I’m going to do the Mountain Athlete hybrid Crossfit basic muscle confusion anaerobic puke fest first thing in the morning. 5am, on an empty stomach, get in the gym and give’er. In the afternoons, Im going to hit similar muscle groups from the morning workout with traditional weight lifting and then cap it off with a cardio effort.

I’ve got ten “blocks” of workouts set aside for six days. They include, two named Mountain Athlete workouts, 3 Crossfit WODs, a block of Yoga, a 90 minute cardio session, and 3 blocks of traditional weight lifting split 50/50 with cardio. I’m not entirely sure how its all going to work out but Im willing to give it a go. This combined with a high lean protein diet should help me to build strength and lean out a bit. Of course, I may never want to see an egg or a protein shaker again in my life, but I’m willing to accept that risk.

Let It Begin...

I’ve been wrestling with how to blog from “over here.” Most the stuff that makes here interesting, you know the life changing, major experience, why you come to Iraq type stuff, I really shouldn’t be broadcasting on the Internet. Cheesy commercials on AFN remind me all the time about the need for this thing called “Operational Security.” So, I can’t write about things that happen here in case I accidentally divulge state secrets. Fair enough.

I could write about the interesting personalities of the folks that I work with here. And live with here. And eat all my meals with here. And basically spend 24 hours a day, 7 days a week with. But then again, I probably shouldn’t broadcast on the Internet what I think about said individuals either. They have Google too.

So that leaves me. I can write about me. I’m realizing now, that the things going on in my brain and during my day here might actually be worth sharing. As many of you know, those that have been following my Facebook updates, I’m on a mission. I’m in Iraq, working every day for approximately one year, so that I can leave here and not work every day for approximately one year. Seems like a fair trade off. You see right now, I’m a firefighter and a climber, that mostly just fights fire. Next year, Im going to be a firefighter and a climber, that mostly just climbs.

I’m going to take my “gap” year. That year off from the world that I should have taken 9 years ago between college and the real world. At the time, graduating from college in May and starting my first job on June 1 seemed like a great idea. And at the time it was. That job ultimately lead to my firefighting career which has been an amazing 9 years of experience, training, friendships, brother and sisterhood and something that I don’t for one second regret. But for now, I want a break. I’ll go so far to say, I need a break. In my heart, I am a rescuer. I may return to the profession, although, I anticipate that it wont be in a major urban environment . I’m sure I will always volunteer because the training and experience I have would be a terrible thing to waste and in the end, there really is nothing like riding a fire truck, pulling a hose line and knocking down a fire.

Come this Fall my plan is to hit the road. I want to spend time all over North America. I want to crash on the couches of old friends and new friends. I want to visit National Parks, State Parks, Provincial Parks, County Parks, and maybe a City Park or two. I want to climb my way around the US and Canada, training and pushing my limits, and hopefully expanding them at every opportunity. Meeting new partners, reconnecting with old ones and generally pursuing my passion of being outside, living simply, building relationships and getting vertical.

The planning and preparation for this upcoming journey has already begun in earnest. Diving into SummitPost, Mountain Project, guidebooks, and picking others brains as well as training my body and mind so that I can be ready to hit the ground running. Doing these things has been nearly the only thing that makes being in Iraq, away from family, friends, trees, liberals, and spinach seem tolerable.

So this is the beginning. I plan, for now, to blog about my training and preparation for my big adventure. I might throw in the occasional story from “over here” provided it doesn’t weaken our national defense or hurt anyone’s feelings. I hope it spurs dialogue about destination suggestions, available couch space, possible partners, training plans, nutrition advice, dirtbag vehicle recommendations, and anything else that might come up.

I have a few more months here to prepare and build the psych, but the plan is to thank Iraq for its time and hospitality sometime in August or September and split. I am so incredibly stoked for this journey, thankful for the opportunity, and keen to make the most of it. I hope if you are reading this you will somehow be a part of it.