A dialog between friends concerning their adventures, life, and emotions. Without each other, we have nothing.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
“Can you define ‘adventuring’ for me?”
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Unexplainable Events on Clinton Road.
Monday, September 20, 2010
What Would Kellen Do?: Explained
Kellen and I used to search out adventure in the mountains that we liked to call epic. We would look for the hardest or most unique way up a mountain, the craziest way down a river, the most miles we could do in a day and hope that things would get tough and nature would throw everything at us.
After a beautiful climb up Roaring Brook on Giant Mountain in the Adirondacks |
Lots of Mountains
Then it was up, up, and more up, and we bagged our first summit by 9:20am, Mt Madison. We took a quick break at the Mt Madison Hut, Ethan and I ate power bars and gorp, while Mike had his first triple whopper with cheese. Then it was more up, down, up, down, then a little bit of back tracking to summit Mt Clay, then a final push up to the top of Mt Washington. (Tip#2: watch what trail you take, it's not always well marked.) We were starting to feel tired and we weren't even half way. So we took a solid break at the summit, we stretched, refilled H20, Mike had his second whopper of the day, then it was back to the trail. (Tip#3: don't stop to watch the highest circus in New England.)
After Mt. Washington you could say it is all down hill from there, but no matter how many times you tell yourself that it is not quite true. Mike probably could have ran the rest of the way to avoid finishing in the dark, but Ethan and I were not in the mood to put our bodies through that. By mid afternoon we got to Mt Monroe, which meant we were over half way and we only had 5 out of 11 peaks to go. We kept pushing at a steady pace and took at least a 30 second break at each peak to take a picture. Just before sunset we took a pit stop at the Mizpah Hut, to relieve our selves and refill on water. From there we had 6.4 miles left, and as we hit the trail again we got some interesting looks from a few Canadian hikers who thought we were crazy.
We were slowly getting more and more tired, but how bad can 6.4 miles be after you have already come 19. I was starting to feel like I was 60 years old, and my pace reflected how I was feeling. To avoid being crushed by our inner bonkasaurus, we took a break at the top of Mt Jackson. A delicious mate bar and a Gu packet come to my rescue, Ethan had some jerky, and Mike, well he didn't think two was enough, so he had his third triple whopper of the day. (FYI the tangerine flavored gu is disgusting, but it was worth it because it had caffeine.)
Slowly but surely we made our way down in the dark, and we were all quiet because some of us were so tired and grumpy we were on the verge of exhaustion. Head lamps were out, and apparently the only headlamp I packed was slightly broken, so it gave me something to complain about for a good 30 minutes. (Tip #4: make sure you pack an extra headlamp and extra batteries.) The trail was loose and scrambly, and I felt like and eighty year old coming down and I murmured swear words to myself every couple of steps, but I kept going because that was the only way I would get to sleep in the own bed that night.
Finally we made it, 11 peaks, 24 miles, 9000+ feet of gain and loose and 16 hours later, we made it. I was grateful to be done and for the sandals and clean clothes I left in the car. For the next couple of days I had a hard time walking, but I was proud of myself for doing something challenging and epic. I told myself several times the next day that I will never do that again but... now that I can walk again I am not so sure I will be able to stick to my work, plus I know I can beat that time and it would be fun to do it in the winter or during a full moon or do it with different people. Until then, there are plenty of other adventure to be had.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Sand, Sun and Friends
Monday, September 13, 2010
Now is the Time
I'm moving in two weeks. I have no idea where to or what I'll do when I get there. That statement in and of itself seems completely contradictory to the title of this blog, but I don't really think so. Let me explain.
This past winter I was 3 years into a good paying, year round job that worked out pretty well. My housing and utilities were covered, I worked with some cool people, and I was in an area that I don't think you can compare to many other places in the lower 48. Then something happened that made me do a lot of thinking about my life and just what I was doing with it. Ultimately I decided that the dust settling on my shoulders was not what I'd planned or wanted. I was in a place that "worked" but wasn't really making me happy. It was time to do something about it.
It took a few months before I actually made something happen. It seems the roots had started creeping into the ground a bit further than I had realized. But with an opportunity at hand and some serious scrambling with logistics I packed it all up and went chasing the dream. It was a bit scary at first, it's been a while since my couchsurfing/skiing/boozing/mt. biking days. Here I was, leaving it all behind (so cliche, I know) and jumping back into the unknown. I had a vague direction but no idea what I was really in for.
One of my earliest memories is of a friend of my Dad's who came to visit. I was pretty young but vividly remember his pictures of giant bears, towering mountains, soaring eagles, and leaping fish. Growing up, I always told myself that I would end up there some day and now I was on my way, enough fishing gear for whatever I might encounter, trusty pooch, and a duffel bag of clothes. I had a job offer to be a fly fishing guide in Alaska and there was no stopping me. "The Dream" was at hand.
It's now the end of the season up here, and I'll head south again in a few weeks, pick up the pieces, and be on to the next thing. The summer's been quite the experience to say the least. I've done some amazing things and met some awesome people. A lot of my clients this summer were older gents who told me that they had wanted to come up here and do this their entire lives. Many of them will never get another chance. I saw one guy actually drop a tear or two after landing his first salmon. He may not have been the only one. The point of all this is that no matter what it is, we all have some dream that seems too tough to accomplish. Life gets in the way, so to speak. I followed mine and now I'm about to be homeless, unemployed, and loving it. I don't know what I'll find going forward, maybe something better or maybe something worse, but that's all part of the adventure. I'm not necessarily advocating quitting your job and leaving it all behind. Or maybe I am, I haven't decided on that one yet. Just don't let the dust settle too thick.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Another Kellen Dream
Had a strange dream about you last night. I was giving advice to a friend how to deal with all this. She was terribly upset and would not get off the couch for months. I was telling her that the best thing to do is be with friends. The strange thing is, I realized after I woke up was that this was a friend from high school that never met you. Then you suddenly walked into the room in a really good mood about getting a raise above $7.00 an hour. You were younger (about your sophomore year age) and moving quickly though the room with purpose. Just as you left the room into the hallway I stopped you to see what you were talking about and to see where you were going. You explained you got a raise ( in the dream this made sense). Then you said "I'll be right back." I didn't believe you and did not want you to go. You walked over to the wall, leaned on it, said "I'll be right back" and slowly disappeared. I woke up, not upset this time, just confused.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Walking on Cake.
We stood at the bottom of a climb, I looked up and decided I could lead this one. With Mike giving me a belay and Jane taking pictures and opportunities to give me confidence, I headed up the right sloping broken crack.Easy going and sort of fun moves with good protection filled the bottom twenty feet. After sinking a crappy cam placement and moving out away from it to the right my nerves fired up. Suddenly that cam placement had to be better. I climbed away from this next tricky move to back-up the crappy cam with a much better cam. Now, with two cams (one very good one that I could have trusted alone) I moved right again. Right foot on a sloped hold, left foot on a medium chip I tried to move further. I had two very good underclings to hold on to, but they were at just the wrong angle to give me the confidence I wanted. As I moved further out I started looking for my next foot and hand hold. I saw nothing I wanted to move to. I tried this several times while my eyes searched in vain for my next cam or stopper placement. These moves repeated themselves over and over again far too many times to talk about. After several walks to the right and several retreats back, some curse words, and many words of encouragement from the friends below me I decided to get lowered off and get Jane (the rope gun) to do it.
Jane, the 5.10 climber, jumped on the “sharp end” of the ropes and sauntered up the first 20 feet to the last cam placement. She moved right, out past the cams. With a bit of work she made the move I could not - would not - do. Then she climbed up about a foot and started looking for a place to put a piece of protection. Plucking a yellow Alien off her harness and caming it’s head into one flared crack, then another (that sentence is ridiculous outside the climbing world) she started moving up past this lousy piece of yellow protection. Jane’s minor struggle with the moves and placements made me feel MUCH better. She paused to give Mike, the belayer, a heads up that she needs to run this out a bit and then disappeared over the bulge.
We had double ropes so Mike and I tied in and we started up the climb towards Jane’s hidden belay anchor. With Mike a few moves behind me I got to the spot where my climb was previously destroyed. Now on top-rope, my fear was gone (well, at least diminished a bit), and as Mike said I could probably do, I muscled though the moves with some difficulty but without even a slip. I climbed passed the lousy yellow alien and stopped above it on a large slab to watch Mike come though the section.
Mike’s experience was a bit different. He started moving right but not far enough. He instead did a real hard move straight up towards me, but this put him directly across from the Alien with it just out of reach. In an attempt to get to the cam Mike peeled off the cliff. Not a big deal since he was once again below the cam, which meant he could climb and retrieve it. The problem was that he stopped falling hanging over the adjacent climb that was rated much harder than this climb. With this knowledge he started the upward journey again. The moves were done with ease and speed, I was impressed.
He grabbed the cam and struggled up to where I was standing comfortably. The move above the yellow Alien was in no way easy and a strong move to deal with on lead even if the piece was good. And remember, it wasn’t. Jane’s lead involved not only a tricky move past this shady cam placement but then she had to climb an easy going, yet moderately exposed slab for about thirty feet with no protection (thunderstorm). Mike and I arrived at the tree anchor impressed. Jane politely asked if we wanted to do the second pitch of this climb. After looking at the weird moves and not being able to pick out the exact route, Mike and I decided we did not want to bother with it. Then we noticed that Jane had already set up the rappel before we even got there. I guess the polite question was rhetorical.
Of course the rappel down was riddled with loose rocks and an unsure route, but we made it down, sweaty, tired, sort of disappointed and ready for a real climb.
Did I forget to mention this climb is rated 5.6 and is called Cakewalk and the guidebook gives it one (out of, I presume, one-thousand) stars? We packed up and headed to the North End of Cathedral Ledge.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
My Life: with and without Kellen
It is 2:45am on August 14, 2010. Six months, 2 days and about nine hours since Jane called me on February 11th to tell me we lost Kellen to an avalanche in Colorado. A few hours ago I got home from a five day trip that started with rock climbing in North Conway New Hampshire with Jane and Mike Deluca and finished with a three day Board of Directors retreat with Mountain Spirit Institute in Southern NH. I now stare at the computer screen during the early morning hours because the memory of Kellen won't let me sleep. I miss him more than anything I have ever missed in my life. I collapsed onto the couch about an hour ago in uncontrollable sobs, while visions of all the things he and I will never do ran through my head. This is why I made this blog. I made it because my life will forever be divided into two parts: the part with Kellen and the part without. I see this blog as a therapeutic tool to help me move into the second part of my life -and hopefully you too. But primarily I see this acting as a resource to keep our friendships strong and connected. But more on that in a bit. First I need to get this off my chest:
The past six months have taught me a lot.
It has shown me that I am not as prepared for moving on past a death as I thought I was. I thought I could accept the fact that Kellen "died doing what he loved" therefore it is okay and I should move on because "he would want me too." But that all sort of sounds contrived to me now. Those concepts do not get me past that fact that he is gone - forever. And forever feels a lot longer than it ever has before. And time is not healing this. I really think I have gotten worse in the last six months. I believe this is because as time goes by I am reminded of how much time will keep going by, without him. This hurts most.
February 11th taught me that nothing is guaranteed, Kellen and I talked years ago about "growing old together" and that stayed with me as we both lived lives separated from each other. In the back of my head, no matter where my life led - up or down - I always knew I would one day live near Kellen and spend our days seeking out epic adventures in the mountains and everything would be the way it should be. Kellen was my light at the end of the tunnel. And knowing we would grow old together made me calm, excited and relaxed all at the same time. But now my life is a long dark tunnel with no light to keep walking towards, no epic journeys at the end calling my name. In a way my life now seems less focused (if that is even possible). However, in this new stage of life (without Kellen) I have a new approach: I want to live life the way he lived - intentional, deliberate, passionate and wide eyed. I want to make less excuses and justifications for not doing things I want or should be doing. I want to move bravely forward and teach the people I meet what it is to really enjoy life because one never know when it might be over, or turned over.
A lesson I am having a hard time accepting is the fact that death is not fair. Almost everyday I get angry at the fact that it was Kellen. I often ask: Why Kellen? He was the best. Best guide, best teacher, best instructor, best facilitator but most painfully he was my best friend. I say that cautiously because I consider many of you my best friend, and I love you more than family. But when I boil it all down it was Kellen that I was to grow old with. And that infuriates me. He was the hub of all of our friendships, and death just ripped him out without any consideration for the rest of the wheel. This makes me angry. It all seems so unfair, and I have nothing to direct my anger towards, so I cry, then pound on the steering wheel while driving down Rt. 91 in Vermont. And sometimes that is what I need. Because I had no say in this.
However, "what would Kellen do?" What I am really taking away from this is my connection with you, my friends. Loosing Kellen has shown me that time is not endless and friends cannot be taken for granted. My life after Kellen now has an increased focus on quality time with good friends. I can't say it better than Bruce:
"Kellen - I am tired. I have not been home on a weekend since June and it’s your fault. When it’s all said and done in this crazy world the only thing we have left are the times we spent with our friends in the mountains, rivers, and oceans. You are my reminder every day, and the reason my lawn never gets mowed."
Without friends, we have nothing. We may be scattered around the country but what links us together are our experiences. Our hub might have been ripped out but the wheel is still there, still spinning. I encourage, no, I beg you to share your experiences, your life, your thoughts, your memories and your emotions on this blog.
Let this be whatever you need it to be. Talk about whatever you need to talk about. But please, when you get back from an adventure, share it with everyone else. I believe this will keep us connected, keep us young, keep us living and keep Kellen alive.
To keep track of this blog click on the "Follow" link on the right side of the page. And, if you want to add a blog post about anything please type it in Word and email it to me as and attachment to knowtheearth@gmail.com. I will put it up as soon as I check my mail.
I thank each one of you for being a true friend.
See you in the future,
Craig