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.