Lessons from The Accident
I appreciate y'all's comments on the accident post. By the time I finally wrote it, I was over the initial shock - and even ready to go back to climbing - but I'm finding this was quite a life-changing event. Funny enough, my orthodontist of all people commented, "Maybe this happened for a reason, so you could recognize the gravity of what you do and move on." And then he asked me what my big objective was and I started telling him about Ama Dablam.
One thing jadia and I have talked about - and one thing that comes up in talking to unadventurous non-mountaineers - is how badly you want to summit. What's funny is, while flipping through old lj entries, I came across this discussion about backing off two mountains last year, including one with a pro guide. Either of them might've worked out if I hadn't turned us around - but after Whitney, I'm not sure. I remembered thinking as I huffed and puffed that endless slope on Mt. Whitney that I =really= wanted to make it to the top so I never had to do that slope again. Non-mountaineers tell me it's not worth it; on the other hand, my sister summitted Rainier and has run half marathons through strength of will. LBro reserves that quality for mental, rather than physical endeavors, but yeah, it's definitely something young Stines are taught.
I feel like it's a slippery slope - when I turned us around on Chimbo, a third mountain I don't mention in that post, I did it bc I was tired and cold and didn't want to walk uphill any more. Which was ok, bc the Everest guide made it 100m higher, taking an hour to do so, before she turned around bc she worried about avalanches. I'm so totally ok with not having gotten that extra 100m - I was really tired - but some mountains require dedication and hard work. Going forward, one of my tasks will be to find the happy medium between desire and caution.
In a lot of ways, it goes back to one of my boss' favorite sayings: it's better to be lucky than to be smart. He uses it in the context of prognostication, bc it's better to accidentally right than cleverly wrong, but it's true in mountaineering too. No amount of intelligence will save you if a rock chooses the wrong time to break, but you (read: Igor) can cut corners for a long time before it catches up to you.
I was incredibly terrified an hour or two after the actual fall and found myself making a bargain with the big guy, as one does. Actually, what I said was, "I don't know what you want from me. Just please let me get off this mountain alive. I've given tzedakah in the past and I'll do it again, twice what I did before, just let me know where to send it." Well, I haven't gotten any clear signs from the big guy - or maybe I'm too dim to recognize them. I gave to a homeless group when I got off Rainier safely, I gave to a generic (Jewish) social services organization when I passed the BNE. I suppose I could give to a mountain safety/rescue organization, but I'm open to suggestions.
In general though, I've been feeling very disconnected from my life over the past few weeks. In questioning my hobbies and being unable to exercise - and thus contemplating a time when neither mountains nor exercise is part of my life - I've been having trouble identifying myself. Which made it particularly weird to find myself telling someone at the party Sunday night, who asked if I exercise, that I'm a mountaineer. Really? Today I'm a mountaineer, but if I'd given that up... I wouldn't be an aerialist; I'm not a [job title]; I'm a crappy runner. Am I just a person who thinks and reads? I'd say "To be continued..." but just being able to run a few "intervals" yesterday started reconnecting the dots. I'm not sure if this is a true vision, if this is really who I am, but it does feel better than the uncertainty with which I've been dealing.
One thing jadia and I have talked about - and one thing that comes up in talking to unadventurous non-mountaineers - is how badly you want to summit. What's funny is, while flipping through old lj entries, I came across this discussion about backing off two mountains last year, including one with a pro guide. Either of them might've worked out if I hadn't turned us around - but after Whitney, I'm not sure. I remembered thinking as I huffed and puffed that endless slope on Mt. Whitney that I =really= wanted to make it to the top so I never had to do that slope again. Non-mountaineers tell me it's not worth it; on the other hand, my sister summitted Rainier and has run half marathons through strength of will. LBro reserves that quality for mental, rather than physical endeavors, but yeah, it's definitely something young Stines are taught.
I feel like it's a slippery slope - when I turned us around on Chimbo, a third mountain I don't mention in that post, I did it bc I was tired and cold and didn't want to walk uphill any more. Which was ok, bc the Everest guide made it 100m higher, taking an hour to do so, before she turned around bc she worried about avalanches. I'm so totally ok with not having gotten that extra 100m - I was really tired - but some mountains require dedication and hard work. Going forward, one of my tasks will be to find the happy medium between desire and caution.
In a lot of ways, it goes back to one of my boss' favorite sayings: it's better to be lucky than to be smart. He uses it in the context of prognostication, bc it's better to accidentally right than cleverly wrong, but it's true in mountaineering too. No amount of intelligence will save you if a rock chooses the wrong time to break, but you (read: Igor) can cut corners for a long time before it catches up to you.
I was incredibly terrified an hour or two after the actual fall and found myself making a bargain with the big guy, as one does. Actually, what I said was, "I don't know what you want from me. Just please let me get off this mountain alive. I've given tzedakah in the past and I'll do it again, twice what I did before, just let me know where to send it." Well, I haven't gotten any clear signs from the big guy - or maybe I'm too dim to recognize them. I gave to a homeless group when I got off Rainier safely, I gave to a generic (Jewish) social services organization when I passed the BNE. I suppose I could give to a mountain safety/rescue organization, but I'm open to suggestions.
In general though, I've been feeling very disconnected from my life over the past few weeks. In questioning my hobbies and being unable to exercise - and thus contemplating a time when neither mountains nor exercise is part of my life - I've been having trouble identifying myself. Which made it particularly weird to find myself telling someone at the party Sunday night, who asked if I exercise, that I'm a mountaineer. Really? Today I'm a mountaineer, but if I'd given that up... I wouldn't be an aerialist; I'm not a [job title]; I'm a crappy runner. Am I just a person who thinks and reads? I'd say "To be continued..." but just being able to run a few "intervals" yesterday started reconnecting the dots. I'm not sure if this is a true vision, if this is really who I am, but it does feel better than the uncertainty with which I've been dealing.