As my adventure racing career progressed
we started participating in longer races. The next level included
100-mile or 24-hour events. Besides navigation, cross-country running,
mountain biking, and kayaking, these races would add different disciplines
depending on the location of the event. New for this particular event
would be glacier crossing with ice axe and crampons plus rope work with harness
and rigging. We had to certify in these disciplines which required
training classes before the event and passing a practical immediately prior to
start of the race.
In this case, we were in the Pacific Northwest at Mt. Hood, OR (also very beautiful location) and would start the race with a 4,000' vertical ascent up Mt. Hood where we would be traversing the glacial ice up towards the top before descending back down. Mt. Hood is a volcanic mountain so the landscape is composed of large sharp black boulders, smaller sharp black rocks, and smaller not-so-sharp-but-annoying-in-yo
As the race went off and teams started up the mountain, they began to spread out and pick their own routes up the rocky slopes. At certain locations there was a low route and a high route and teams were trying both. The high routes were very thin ridges of volcanic rock where at the apex there was just enough room for a single person to walk with steep slopes heading off from each side. The soil was loose, almost sand-like, and a misstep to the side would send rocks tumbling downward - to the low route! For a brief period of time we were down on a low route and I could see the danger ahead. A single rock would start small avalanches of rocks, or a single rogue rock would pick up steam and become a missile until it crashed into the valley below. It was one of the first times since I started the sport where I felt like I was facing a very dangerous situation (it wouldn't be the last on this day). We performed a rapid course correction even though it burned a bunch of energy and made our way on the high road from that point on. It was a huge relief to be above the rocks rather than below them.
The next pressure point was the glacial traverse up at 8,000 feet. We strapped on our crampons (spikes on shoes to dig into ice) and pulled out our ice axes, holding them as we were trained to do. The ice axe is your human break. With a huge slope of angular frozen ice, a large vertical drop off, and those giant black volcanic boulders setting at the bottom of the hill, if you fall and start sliding, you need to perform rolling maneuvers and dig in your axe to stop, the quicker the better. We took our time and this section passed for us without incident, but fear kept us very vigilant each step of the way.
Later in the same race, we were far down the mountain in another part of the valley when we came to a huge gorge. The organizers had strung huge ropes across from one side the other side of a 400' gap. Think a very long, very thick clothes line connecting the two sides together. We had to cross Tyrolean style, which means that you are suspended under the rope from a pulley so you can ride the downward sag of the rope to the middle, than use your arms to pull yourself the rest of the way to the other side. We broke out our climbing equipment, hooked up our harnesses and stepped to the edge to strap in. I was now attached to a rope by two very thin (but strong) straps, I have a huge backpack fully of supplies on my back, and I faced backwards with my heels hanging over the edge of drop that goes 900 feet straight down to the valley floor below. It was time to jump. And not just jump, but do so with force as the further you can propel yourself down the line from start, the less work you had to do pulling yourself up on the other side. Holy crap! Deep breath. Jump. As it turned out it was an incredible ride and we obviously lived to see another day. The preparation was right, the equipment was right, and everything turned out fine in the end.
Fear is one of the emotions that all of us deal with at many points in our lives. There's fear of things that we know can cause us harm and are as tangible as falling rocks in front of us. There's fear of what might happen because of a certain action or situation we take. And there's definitely fear of the unknown. Since my diagnosis I've been experiencing fear at different levels. When I first received the news from the blood test I was fearful about the fact that I have cancer. What was going to be the outcome here? Did we catch it in time? Answers and information are comforting, what's really bad is the unknown. Waiting on test results you know are coming and will determine your prognosis is emotionally taxing. The brain has nothing left to do but daydream and start enumerating possibilities. Not all of the outcomes are positive which then begins to reinforce the fear.
Life and death based fear will definitely put other fears I have well into perspective and hopefully they can for you as well. As I think back over situations in my life where fear has delayed my action; how do I have a tough conversation with a family member? Should I leave my job for a new job or to start my own business? How can I confront someone when there's been a disagreement and a communication breakdown in the past to repair or end the relationship? Many times I let fear hold me back and problems festered. Here's what I know now:
* A quick course correction can reduce or eliminate a bad situation in front of you;
* Remaining diligent and prepared when entering areas of danger can keep you safe as you cross any glacier; and
* Prepare for battle through information gathering and training, then trust in yourself, step to the edge and jump!
I find some fear useful as it can force focus and make us aware of something that needs our attention. But dwelling on fear makes no sense. Facing and getting to the other side of a situation will set your fear aside and provide mental and potentially physical relief. You'll find a much more satisfied person on the other side of the gorge because you had the courage to get past it, and you might even enjoy the ride.
In this case, we were in the Pacific Northwest at Mt. Hood, OR (also very beautiful location) and would start the race with a 4,000' vertical ascent up Mt. Hood where we would be traversing the glacial ice up towards the top before descending back down. Mt. Hood is a volcanic mountain so the landscape is composed of large sharp black boulders, smaller sharp black rocks, and smaller not-so-sharp-but-annoying-in-yo
As the race went off and teams started up the mountain, they began to spread out and pick their own routes up the rocky slopes. At certain locations there was a low route and a high route and teams were trying both. The high routes were very thin ridges of volcanic rock where at the apex there was just enough room for a single person to walk with steep slopes heading off from each side. The soil was loose, almost sand-like, and a misstep to the side would send rocks tumbling downward - to the low route! For a brief period of time we were down on a low route and I could see the danger ahead. A single rock would start small avalanches of rocks, or a single rogue rock would pick up steam and become a missile until it crashed into the valley below. It was one of the first times since I started the sport where I felt like I was facing a very dangerous situation (it wouldn't be the last on this day). We performed a rapid course correction even though it burned a bunch of energy and made our way on the high road from that point on. It was a huge relief to be above the rocks rather than below them.
The next pressure point was the glacial traverse up at 8,000 feet. We strapped on our crampons (spikes on shoes to dig into ice) and pulled out our ice axes, holding them as we were trained to do. The ice axe is your human break. With a huge slope of angular frozen ice, a large vertical drop off, and those giant black volcanic boulders setting at the bottom of the hill, if you fall and start sliding, you need to perform rolling maneuvers and dig in your axe to stop, the quicker the better. We took our time and this section passed for us without incident, but fear kept us very vigilant each step of the way.
Later in the same race, we were far down the mountain in another part of the valley when we came to a huge gorge. The organizers had strung huge ropes across from one side the other side of a 400' gap. Think a very long, very thick clothes line connecting the two sides together. We had to cross Tyrolean style, which means that you are suspended under the rope from a pulley so you can ride the downward sag of the rope to the middle, than use your arms to pull yourself the rest of the way to the other side. We broke out our climbing equipment, hooked up our harnesses and stepped to the edge to strap in. I was now attached to a rope by two very thin (but strong) straps, I have a huge backpack fully of supplies on my back, and I faced backwards with my heels hanging over the edge of drop that goes 900 feet straight down to the valley floor below. It was time to jump. And not just jump, but do so with force as the further you can propel yourself down the line from start, the less work you had to do pulling yourself up on the other side. Holy crap! Deep breath. Jump. As it turned out it was an incredible ride and we obviously lived to see another day. The preparation was right, the equipment was right, and everything turned out fine in the end.
Fear is one of the emotions that all of us deal with at many points in our lives. There's fear of things that we know can cause us harm and are as tangible as falling rocks in front of us. There's fear of what might happen because of a certain action or situation we take. And there's definitely fear of the unknown. Since my diagnosis I've been experiencing fear at different levels. When I first received the news from the blood test I was fearful about the fact that I have cancer. What was going to be the outcome here? Did we catch it in time? Answers and information are comforting, what's really bad is the unknown. Waiting on test results you know are coming and will determine your prognosis is emotionally taxing. The brain has nothing left to do but daydream and start enumerating possibilities. Not all of the outcomes are positive which then begins to reinforce the fear.
Life and death based fear will definitely put other fears I have well into perspective and hopefully they can for you as well. As I think back over situations in my life where fear has delayed my action; how do I have a tough conversation with a family member? Should I leave my job for a new job or to start my own business? How can I confront someone when there's been a disagreement and a communication breakdown in the past to repair or end the relationship? Many times I let fear hold me back and problems festered. Here's what I know now:
* A quick course correction can reduce or eliminate a bad situation in front of you;
* Remaining diligent and prepared when entering areas of danger can keep you safe as you cross any glacier; and
* Prepare for battle through information gathering and training, then trust in yourself, step to the edge and jump!
I find some fear useful as it can force focus and make us aware of something that needs our attention. But dwelling on fear makes no sense. Facing and getting to the other side of a situation will set your fear aside and provide mental and potentially physical relief. You'll find a much more satisfied person on the other side of the gorge because you had the courage to get past it, and you might even enjoy the ride.
Wonderful Bri!
ReplyDeleteI was there to witness the Mt. Hood race and I was in awe of the team. You guys kicked ass! And I bet that Guinness at the end tasted great! :-)
ReplyDelete