The Climbing Life

There was a moment when the pursuit to defy gravity changed my life.

When the sharp end became scripture, and the crag my cathedral.

Summers over. Not in the literal sense, but for me, that block of time, May-August, the “summer season” is over. I find myself in the cooling breeze of the eastern Sierra at dusk. Bishop. A place, I dare say, is becoming a home. In this transient life, it seems to be one among many, but that’s a different story entirely.

So much happens each year in this block of time. Galivanting through the mountains with old friends and new. A month in Alaska, two or three weeks in British Columbia, and the rest of the time in the North Cascades of Washington. Beautiful places all.

There’s a wholeness that you get from spending time in the mountains. Living in the dirt, breathing in the trees, even falling in scree. Life becomes so simple. Food, safety, shelter. And all the while, subjecting ourselves to uncontrollable environments, complex problem-solving in dynamic situations. Managing decisions, reactions, and the environment whilst viscerally tethered to the mortal coil. It’s a wild place to call work or play. With time, a feeling of unity and empowerment can come from testing ourselves, our boundaries, and our limits. Not recklessly but calculated, confidently and conservatively.

Climbing is ultimately a dance of risk and play. A game with a bet higher than most any other wagers and rewards both infinite and infinitesimal. Transformational experience. Times that seem, for whatever reason, to WAKE US UP. The immediacy of the present moment, unavoidable. Peak experience. Forgive the pun because it’s not about getting to the top. It’s about the space in between.

The overcoming, the succumbing, the becoming.

It might start out as X grade or Y mountain. As check boxes and goal setting, but my job is to help them fall in love with the game like I have. The discovery that it’s not about the goal at all, but the process to get there. And I’ll tell you something else, it’s not just with climbing. The not-so-secret secret to life is that this. All of it, you, me, the world, all the beauty, all the horror, is a process. Dynamic, flowing, impermanent. It’s not even a thing at all (but that’s a whole other story entirely). Climbing helped open that door for me, helped walk me inside, and promptly burned the house down.

I’ve spent almost a decade of my life professionally taking people into the mountains. To share with them just a glimmer of what I have seen. Each moment, a chance to change our lives forever. A dance of life, love, risk, and all those little moments in between. This climbing life, you might say, and I don’t see it stopping anytime soon.