Sometimes a 60ft Barrier Is Stronger Than What’s Inside You

I felt the joy drain out of my body as soon as we rounded the wall and I laid eyes on it. Suddenly, reaching the summit with our 2015 No Barriers Warriors to Summits team seemed painfully out of reach.

Josh, Margaux and I had departed the team’s high camp earlier in the morning to scout the upper section of the route for our summit attempt the next day on Gannett Peak.  The previous day had been spent eyeballin the upper crux of the route, a left slanting couloir that appeared from a thousand feet below to have an anemic amount of shitty ice protecting it’s access. Even from our camp perspective we were skeptical of the upper flank conditions.  If that ramp of ice wasn’t safe to climb, the summit would be unattainable.

Gannett Peak is about as remote of a worthy climbing objective as any in the lower 48 States. Our team of 10 veterans, 5 guides and 2 photojournalists spent the better part of 5 days trekking deep into the Wind River Range of Wyoming, passing through some of the most breathtaking alpine terrain I have ever laid eyes on. Every one of the 26 miles of the approach were well-earned… not the least of which was the final mile leading into our high camp.  The “boulder field” was a linear mile of uninterrupted, VW Bug sized boulders that had the look of middle earth meets the album cover of Houses of the Holy. Our 2 amputees and 1 super-blind dude got their money’s worth climbing up, over and down each of the hundreds of massive rocks.

But in spite of all the fireball terrain and big-ass boulders, we arrived as a complete team into our high camp…. tired but satisfied and excited about what lay ahead.  All the lead up work had been done. Training was complete. The long approach was behind us. Only thing left to do was power through a solid summit day and stand on top of our objective.

That being said, my concern for route conditions grew deeper with each glance I stole of the upper route. As the sun cast down on the upper snowfield, the reflection off the snow mirrored a sheer face of what appeared to be very old, desiccated ice with a potentially broken up snow bridge leading to the climbable ice. The inexperienced eye would see it as shimmering beauty, beckoning for boots and traffic. But those of us with dozens of years climbing in variable alpine conditions knew better. We knew that weeks of higher than average temperatures would have melted the seasonal snow away, leaving only the thousands-of-years-old ice exposed. This is the kind of ice that is hard, crumbly and tough to protect. It’s the kind of ice that a few of the leadership team could handle with some minor effort… but the thought of putting our 10 participants on this terrain made my hands sweat and my spidey senses tingle.

Each of our hard charging participants have proven themselves competent and experienced in the theater of war… but their alpine climbing training consisted exclusively of our 3 training trips we had facilitated over the previous 4 months.

Not a lot.

Remember, our goal all along with No Barriers Warriors is not to make these men and women mountain climbers. Our mission is to provide them with a transformational experience that uses the mountains and rivers as a backdrop. Even from a half mile away I knew it would be tough to get everyone up and down that section of mountain safely and efficiently.

It was clear that we had to go up and lay eyes and feet on the route. As the expedition leader I knew that the ultimate “go or no-go” decision rested firmly on my shoulders, so I would need to go.  So on the morning of our “rest day” Josh, Margaux and myself departed high camp to go explore the upper reaches of the mountain.

Fun… just straight up fun. The climbing was complete with low 5^th class scrambling, glacial traverses, low angle snow climbing and splitter blue-sky conditions. We had a blast over the course of a few hours gaining an upper position. We rounded the corner of the “gooseneck” headwall and finally got close and personal with the upper couloir.

Shit.

The first obvious eye catcher was the 20ft deep, sunken bergschrund that separated the upper ice from the lower glacier. Bergschrunds are the features that form as the ice that is pasted to the steeper flanks of the mountain separate from the lower angle glaciers. Often times there is a snow bridge that exists that provides easy access on to the upper slopes. The same little snow bridge that existed when Charlie and Josh reconned the route 2 months prior still was in place. But now it was a sad little 1ft thick, droopy, unsafe marshmallow.

Well OK, we can get over that. Will take some work to get everyone over and back across that thing… but we can do it.

Then we looked up.

Above the gap we could now clearly see the condition of the ice that protected the summit ridge. Just as I had guessed...stretching from side to side of the couloir was 60ft of glistening, boilerplate hard, 10,000-year-old ice. Dripping water cascaded down its face. Once again I thought of a handful of ways we could get our crew up that section of ice but I continued to stalemate on how we would safely get everyone down this terrain.

But damnit…we knew that if we could just get by that 60ft of terrain we would have a fairly cruiser ridgeline all the way up to the summit.

Might as well have been made of 2ft thick glass.

I sat deflated as I contemplated alternatives. Each one ended in the same comment, “We might be able to get em up that way but there is no way to get them down that same section safely.”

In typical Josh fashion, the 27 year old ex SEAL continued to suggest multiple alternatives…. the best of which was climbing around the ice… “maybe we can circumvent the entire headwall. Let’s go check it out.” An hour later and some fun rock-block scrambling lead us to the edge of the headwall… and a 1,000ft sheer cliff.

No go.

Down we went… occasionally blasting out a “Fuck!!!!!” with disappointment. We had worked so hard to get here as a team and we would be going home without a summit.

Back through the sweet terrain and into camp to join up with the rest of the team. Ultimately to tell them that their much desired summit… the same summit that they had worked for and dreamed of… would remain out of reach.

I wasn’t bummed for my own summit aspirations. Over my 20+ year climbing career I have been turned around countless times due to unsafe conditions. I was accustomed to dealing with the “no summit blues”. All of the common axioms were a part of my long developed alpine mentation…

“The summit is optional but coming home is not.”

“The mountains make the music, we simply listen.”

“It’s about the journey…not the summit.”

And yes, all of this is true… but when I broke the news that we wouldn’t be able to summit, there was no cute little quote that would quell the disappointment the group clearly felt. As much as we had tried to frame up the possibility of not touching the summit, this was still a massive body blow to the group. Tears, frustration, disappointment. We all felt it. For many, it was just another one of the many obstacles that was keeping them from completing the ever-elusive “summit.”

Then the magic happened…

The team requested a participant only meeting… all the leaders were asked to step away.

Thirty minutes later we rejoined the team and listened to them request an opportunity to venture up, as a complete team to this high point… to go as high as they could… to lay eyes on this piece of unsafe terrain… to feel the power of the mountain and let it judge them for who they are… to conclude that they had done nothing wrong in this journey and to confirm that they had done everything right. It was just the mountain dishing up a shitty sixty feet of ice protected by a big ass moat.

Then I knew we had done our work. We had set the table appropriately. We had invited our guests and they had joined us for a lengthy feast. The appetizer was good… it whet our appetite and made us hungry for bigger things. The main course was delicious… we took in all of the miles and smiles and felt full. But alas there would be no desert…. the cake would not be served. We wanted to end on a sweet note but would instead have to reflect on the fact that our bellies and souls were full.

We had feasted.

The next day I began what would be a 2-day evacuation of one our participants that was sick as a dog and spiraling towards full kidney failure. He warriored through all 26 miles back to the trailhead on 1 foot, 1 prosthetic, a horse and a shit ton of grit and will.

That same day, September 11^th, the rest of the team climbed up to my same high point, took a look at the bergschrund and 60ft of ice and said, “Yep, I get it. Don’t want any part of that.”  Although there was still disappointment within, the team had now faced that barrier, looked it square in the eye and said, “F You!!!”

I heard stories of how each of the team yelled out names of their friends, fellow warriors and family that had been lost or deeply effected by the events of that anniversary 14 years prior. Powerful to say the least.

My best bro and long time adventure partner, Erik was the founding father of No Barriers. From the beginning the tagline has always been “What’s Within You Is Stronger Than What’s In Your Way.” I know that’s true most of the time.

But sometimes 60ft of shitty, unsafe ice IS in your way. And it IS stronger than you. And it IS blocking you from reaching your desired summit. And it IS NOT moving.

This is a fact of life.

When we encounter these immovable objects, it’s critical to be resourceful, look for work-arounds and think outside the box. Then, once we have exhausted all alternatives we have to come to grips with it. It’s not that I’m OK with it. I just have to acknowledge it’s existence. It’s not going anywhere. But we are. Moving on. Setting our sights on the next summit… the next objective.

And so we climb on.

Lava Flowing From The Cauldron

As I cruised around the Ecuadorian landscape last month I was constantly reminded of how new land is formed repeatedly as the earth oozes its molten hot magma (insert Dr Evil accent here) from the subsurface caldron below.  Fresh fields of black lava rock are visible throughout the vibrant and relatively “young” islands of the Galapagos. Massive “lava tubes” and ridges make for scrambling fun around the interior's curtain of volcanoes.  It is a Geology 101 classroom that illustrates how the earth redefines itself on a regular rate… sometimes violently, sometimes subtly.

It’s been a couple weeks now since we wrapped up the 2^nd iteration of Soldiers to Summits. Our objective was, in part, to summit the photogenic 19,347ft Ecuadorian volcano, Cotopaxi.  However, as with most mountain climbing expeditions, this experience was far less about standing on top of the summit but more about the beauty and struggle that happened prior to even stepping foot on the flanks of the mountain.

Looking at this expedition in the rear-view mirror now, I feel a bit like each of us at some point on the expedition took on the form of that newly spewed lava, occasionally blowing from the top of the cauldron in a dramatic and painful way… other times simmering and oozing slowly in a controlled and even keeled way. The end result is new earth… a new person laid over the former one.

How many times on this carousel we call life are we given the opportunity to redefine who we are? To shed the layer of unwanted skin and embrace the new garden-fresh self that lies beneath?  I would dare to guess that every one of us at some point in our lives would embrace the thought of starting with a new quiver of arrows or perhaps losing a few bad behaviors.

It’s typically a painful process when that old skin is shed... leaving that fresh, nerve-rich layer vulnerable and unprotected. Sometimes the proverbial band-aid will provide protection and comfort for a limited time as the healing takes place but we all know it’s only a patch and just hides what really needs to heal.

Soldiers to Summits was originally established with the idea of providing a venue for healing. We strive to provide a positive and nurturing atmosphere where an individual can peel back that layer of dead skin, expose themselves and allow the new terrain to grow and flourish.  As the program continues to “find itself” in how we can best serve our servicemen and women, it also has to go through this same “lava flow” process hand in hand with all who are associated with the program. We don’t have it totally right just yet, but reflecting back on our recent journey I am proud to say I was able to create some “new skin” in my own life through this expedition. I also watched with great satisfaction and respect as several band-aids were pulled off of some our veterans… some painfully, some with more caress. 

Growth is not pain free. Makin changes is not for sissies. I think the earth and it’s metamorphic process is a powerful example of how to handle it. Understanding that with the build up of pressure, there has to be an outlet. New lava has to flow. Sometimes that volcano will blow it’s top and shit will absolutely go down. Other times the slow moving magma will be just as effective at covering and creating new layers. Whichever pace that it happens, we are left trying to interpret our new skin and how to use it to make the world a better place. The new terrain is ours to walk on. Perhaps at first we just might want to tread lightly.

Climb High

Jeff

Colorado High Ground Screening

When High Ground had it’s world premier in Boulder, Colorado this spring, tickets sold out right away–and the film was voted People’s Choice award at the Film Festival! Since then, there have not been any public showings of this incredible movie in Colorado.

On November 2nd, Coloradans will have another chance to watch High Ground at a very special event at the American Mountaineering Center in Golden. The night will start with famed author Jon Krakauer introducing the film. Afterwards, John Meyer of the Denver Post will moderate a Q&A session with filmmaker Michael Brown, myself, and other members of the S2S Lobuche expedition.

This event is a fundraiser for Soldiers To Summits. Tickets cost $20 and may be purchased at Bentgate Mountaineering in Golden or online. Please help spread the word.

See you there!

Jeff

Taking The “No More Adversity” Pill

Just wrapping up our 2^nd weekend of training with our new Soldiers to Summits crew and as expected, I walk away with a profound sense of admiration and a great deal of respect for this year’s group of men and women. I can quickly tell that, even more than with our inaugural 2010 group, this assortment of soldiers and marines has reminded me that although I am the guide… one of the supposed experts in our endeavor…  I am truly the one that is learning and expanding through my participation in this project. Each of them has dealt with a tremendous amount of adversity and is attempting to stand back up in both the physical and emotional sense.  As I have engaged with them throughout both of our training weekends I am reminded how resilience lives and breathes in these dynamic and thought provoking individuals.

This round of training was primarily geared toward the physical and technical training that will be required to ascend our ultimate goal this December of the 18,000 ft volcano, Cotopaxi in Ecuador.  Two full days were spent up in the cold at the base of St Mary’s Glacier (approximately 11,000 ft) both dialing in crampon and ice axe work as well as collectively scaling a nearby 13,800 ft peak.  The cold and altitude were a constant reminder for the team, that we are preparing for a mission that will require each of them to dig down for an objective that is, at times, somewhat uncomfortable. And although none of them have any experience in the realms of climbing and high altitude, they each know that anything worth doing is going to require some suffering along the way.

One of our discussions on Day 2 revolved around adversity. This has always been one of the most compelling themes that I reference in all of my keynotes and teachings. I have learned much about how I personally deal with adversity in the 20 years that I’ve been guiding my blind buddy Erik on mountains, rock faces and adventure races around the world. Together we have been kicked around on multiple occasions…consistently being required to find ways of dealing with ass whoopings. Erik has always been a beacon of how to use adversity as fuel…turning a clear, life-numbing event into a catalyst for success. I have learned much from him on how to be an “alchemist” with turning challenging objectives into summits of success.

Our facilitator that day posed to the group a hypothetical question as he was wrapping up the topic of adversity. He asked each member of the group whether they would, if given the chance, ingest a pill that would guarantee a life void of adversity. Take the pill and you will never again feel pain or inconvenience.  No more red lights, hairs in your pasta or flat tires. No more cancer, trauma or mortgage defaults.

On the outset it seems a no brainer…who wouldn’t want to walk through life never having to deal with the daily bullshit that we all encounter.  You would be squeaky clean…permanent vacation. Easy Street.

Now clearly this exercise is to prompt the participant to delve into the fact that adversity is a good thing.  After some contemplative thinking and group discussion, one would say, “No, I wouldn’t take that pill. I need adversity in my life to make me strong.” We are prompted to conclude that without some hardcore adversities along our paths we would become complacent and listless.  

I’m confident that up to that point in his career, our facilitator had received this same answer in all occasions up to now…until he ran into this group.

The first person to speak up against the accepted paradigm was an amazing young man named Kevin. We all listened to him lay out exactly why he would choose to take the pill. He clearly and succinctly explained how he had experienced enough adversity in his short life and how, if given the chance, he would swallow that pill down in a second and apologize for being late.  “I don’t need anymore adversity to get strong. I’ve been through enough and I’m good with sailing on the rest of the way without pain and sorrow.”

A few more folks spoke up in this same fashion and those that didn’t say so in the big group setting volunteered the same response to me later in the weekend. It was unanimous amongst the group that the “No Adversity Pill” would be a big hit amongst this crew.

What I concluded that day was that in some cases, enough is enough.  We can all agree that the adversities in our lives help to weave our thread count into the characters we are. How we handle the daily grind challenges as well as the life changing, monumental throw-downs is what defines us as individuals. But perhaps there is a point where we have experienced plenty of hardships to provide us the fuel we need to combat complacency. I doubt there is a limit on what we can take…but perhaps there is a limit on what we need to be great.

On our final night, we sat around a campfire and swapped some of our favorite quotes.  All of them were meaningful and thought provoking, however one stood out to me and I’m still blown away by its timeliness and relevance. John Masters is one of our 2012 S2S class and his Teddy Roosevelt quote is the embodiment of our mission with S2S from the beginning.

"It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat."

I am fired up about our upcoming adventure to Ecuador with these outstanding men and women. And although I know we will encounter some adversity along the way, I’m confident this group will handle anything that comes there way like the true heroes that they are.