On Great Everest Reads

Alright, so lately, I have been devouring Himalayan expedition literature. Years ago my initial interest in Himalayan expeditions was specifically on the 1960-1980s pushes on the taller 8000 meter peaks - K2 and Everest specifically - with a side of Nanga Parbat. These expeditions are fascinating as they pushed the human psychological and physiological limits. By the 1960s all of the tallest 8000 meter peaks had been climbed by "siege" style expeditions. The goal was simple, get to the top at any cost. This meant expeditions of 50 plus climbers and 100s of support members, extensive death tolls, prodigious amounts of supplies and consequently waste, and, on occasion, local porter teams numbering 1000 or more. Nuts. After the peaks had been climbed the philosophy of the mountain reverted to that of the pervasive minimalist, alpine approach being used in the Alps. Small teams, little support, no fixed ropes, quick ascents, and no supplemental oxygen were the staples of the small alpine expedition. The question was, could such a small, unsupported team conquer a Himalayan giant. The pervasive thought in the older military siege-style rings was of course "no". But small groups of motivated, counter-cultural climbers set out to prove otherwise. Thus began the scramble in the 1960s-1980s to hit hard routes on massive Himalayan peaks with small, unsupported teams. Everest wasn't climbed without supplementary oxygen until 1978, and was not soloed until 1980 - both accomplishments attributed to Reinhold Messner. The Germans continued their assault on Nanga Parbat through the 60s, the Italians played around on their Abruzzi ridge from 1954 (after the first successful siege) through the 60s and the Americans and British pioneered routes on Everest through the 70s. Horbein and Unsoeld completed the first traverse of Everest in 1963. Venables and Buhl made names for themselves on the formidable East face of Everest in the 1980s. 

Back to the point; great Everest reads. Lately, I have been reading early expedition literature (1920s-1950s) and gaining a better understanding of the logistical challenges of the early expeditions and why it took so darn toot'n long - with so many deaths - to initially reach the summits of the Himalayan giants. A great succinct, yet thorough recap of Himalayan expeditions, Fallen Giants. A great introduction to the wonderful world of Himalayan adventures - reconnoiters, mapping, trekking and mountaineering. Also, anything Shipton or Hunt will do a student of early Himalayan expeditions good. Two Britons who had more of a knack for writing than climbing write thorough accounts of the early days of the British on Everest (Hunt was the expedition leader for the 1953 Norgay/Hillary ascent). A much more contemporary expedition account that is worth looking into is The Other Side of Everest by Matt Dickinson. Matt was on the north side of Everest during the killer storm of 1996 that took 10 lives. Matt provides an easy to understand account, jargon-free, of the immense undertaking of a Himalayan expedition. Perhaps more interesting, for those who are familiar with the laundry-list of literature available from 1996 expeditions on the south side of Everest (Into Thin Air, Boukreev's account, Viestur's writings, etc.), is the other side of the story provided by Dickinson. 

Great Reads. Check them out.

Choices

Well, it seems that things have hit a head with my right knee. After several weeks of consistent strengthening exercises and a three week running break, nothing has changed. I went out for a jog today to see how everything was firing; my right knee has the same strange alignment problem and grinds out to the right, stiffening on occasion, and eventually hardening to a point that I am forced to walk. Shoot. Whatever though. Stuff happens. I still love running and am very saddened by the current state of affairs. The choice comes down to this...seek medical/physical therapy treatment now and risk the chance of not having enough cash for my move to Missoula (first/last month's rent and security deposit) or use my current funds to foot the move and forgo treatment until I am financially sound again, say late fall (meaning no running or fall races this year). It really isn't a choice. The answer is obvious. A place to live is necessary, running is not. Who knows how much the bill will just for a diagnosis. Which probably sounds silly to most folks. But, truth be told, I am poor and even a screening could put me on the brink of financial ruin, what with my move to Missoula and all. Anyways, no regrets here. This is the way it is. I am still a young buck, plenty of years to get my leg fixed and get back to one of things I love. For now? Long walks and strength training cardio circuits.

Entertaining Angels

"A chief event of life is the day in which we have encountered a mind that startled us." Emerson

This post has been a five year work-in-progress. These events have shaped my life in ways that I will never know. A recent meeting piqued my interest and inspired this post.I have been blessed to have met four angels over the course of the last five years.

By angels, I mean kindred, quiet, transcendent spirits that put my heart, soul, mind at ease while in their presence. The moment is all that matters in the presence of an angel; and the moments are eternal. Hindsight and reflection on my meetings with these angels only dims the glory of their luminous realities - experienced in the moment, in the present. Words can not and will not, not ever, do these meetings with eart-angels proper justice. So I am stuck trying my best to describe to you what has likely been a shared experience by all; an experience full of love, truth and hope. It is a plutonic love. Nay, it is beyond any love that can be described. It is transcendent. Assuredly, from above. No human love could match it. The love that ties us to the angels in our lives can never be lustful or suffocating; the love is a supernatural virtue of which sexuality taints the very object of beauty. It is true love. It is God's face on God's child. That is what it means to look upon the face of an angel. To see virtue as virtue, and love as natural ore.

I feel the need to share the names of those angels that have graced me with their presence to better illustrate what I am talking about when I talk about angels. Ordered in chronological order of meeting (not importance, for all meetings are of equal importance) over the last five years.

- Mandy Moore - Though this may seem funny, ridiculous, whatever, Mandy Moore was my first experience with this sort of love and feeling of the presence of something so wonderful and beautiful that no amount of human longing could match the love made manifest in her beauty. Watching Mandy Moore in a 'Walk to Remember' caused a heart palpitation of which I had never experienced before, making me aware of a different sort of terrestial spirit.

- Merne Judson III - Merne showed me, simply by being, what peace, selflessness and love are. What love is. It is palpable in his presence. Everything was illuminated in a heavenly light when we engaged in conversation and divine wisdom flowed freely between us in a beautiful exchange of spirit. Merne gave a face to my newly evolving concept of what an angel is. His spirit is still present in my life, though he is now over a 1000 miles away.

- Gwen - Gwen gave a face, voice and of course, spirit to what an angel is. With the voice of an angel and the beauty of aphrodite, Gwen put and too, continues to put, a hope, faith and love into perspective under the terribly insufficient asupices of earthly beauty. Transcendence is the key here. A heart turned outward, serving others selflessly, without restraint. Gwen taught me what beauty sounds like and unconditional love for all feels like.

- Laura - Laura has come into my life most recently, within the last year. She is perhaps the quietest, most peaceful spirit that I have ever met. With a heart for service and conscience so keen as to detect even the slightest injustice in thought and spirit, she radiates love. Her life gave me a picture of what a life lived in harmony with God and God's creation looks like. Frickin a, it is a beautiful thing; just to know that such a kindred spirit exists gives me strength, power and hope - perhaps a selfish ambition, the love is pure and inspires me to serve the world joyfully.

All four of these people, perhaps with the exception of Mandy Moore who merely gave me the base image of an angel, have taught me lessons so invaluable and transcendent, that if my spirit were to be boiled down to its base elements, inevitably the residue of Merne, Gwen and Laura would remain after my spirit had evaporated. Kindreds spirits only come, they do not go. Spirits are eternal and we know when we meet them. It isn't the feeling of a higher degree of joy that so enraptures us, but a completely different kind of joy that captures us when blessed with their presence. I hope you too have experienced angels on earth; seen the face of God in a friend or loved one. These things are beautiful and God blesses us so, so that by reflecting even half of the light of our angels into the lives of those that we interact with, we bless the world.

Entertaining Angels

"A chief event of life is the day in which we have encountered a mind that startled us." Emerson

This post has been a five year work-in-progress. These events have shaped my life in ways that I will never know. A recent meeting piqued my interest and inspired this post.

I have been blessed to have met four angels over the course of the last fiveyears. By angels, I mean kindred, quiet, transcendent spirits that put my heart, soul, mind at ease while in their presence. The moment is all that matters in the presence of an angel; and the moments are eternal. Hindsight and reflection on my meetings with these angels only dims the glory of their luminous realities - experienced in the moment, in the present. Words can not and will not, not ever, do these meetings with eart-angels proper justice. So I am stuck trying my best to describe to you what has likely been a shared experience by all; an experience full of love, truth and hope. It is a plutonic love. Nay, it is beyond any love that can be described. It is transcendent. Assuredly, from above. No human love could match it. The love that ties us to the angels in our lives can never be lustful or suffocating; the love is a supernatural virtue of which sexuality taints the very object of beauty. It is true love. It is God's face on God's child. That is what it means to look upon the face of an angel. To see virtue as virtue, and love as natural ore.

I feel the need to share the names of those angels that have graced me with their presence to better illustrate what I am talking about when I talk about angels. Ordered in chronological order of meeting (not importance, for all meetings are of equal importance) over the last five years.

- Mandy Moore - Though this may seem funny, ridiculous, whatever, Mandy Moore was my first experience with this sort of love and feeling of the presence of something so wonderful and beautiful that no amount of human longing could match the love made manifest in her beauty. Watching Mandy Moore in a 'Walk to Remember' caused a heart palpitation of which I had never experienced before, making me aware of a different sort of terrestial spirit.

- Merne Judson III - Merne showed me, simply by being, what peace, selflessness and love are. What love is. It is palpable in his presence. Everything was illuminated in a heavenly light when we engaged in conversation and divine wisdom flowed freely between us in a beautiful exchange of spirit. Merne gave a face to my newly evolving concept of what an angel is. His spirit is still present in my life, though he is now over a 1000 miles away.

- Gwen - Gwen gave a face, voice and of course, spirit to what an angel is. With the voice of an angel and the beauty of aphrodite, Gwen put and too, continues to put, a hope, faith and love into perspective under the terribly insufficient asupices of earthly beauty. Transcendence is the key here. A heart turned outward, serving others selflessly, without restraint. Gwen taught me what beauty sounds like and unconditional love for all feels like.

- Laura - Laura has come into my life most recently, within the last year. She is perhaps the quietest, most peaceful spirit that I have ever met. With a heart for service and conscience so keen as to detect even the slightest injustice in thought and spirit, she radiates love. Her life gave me a picture of what a life lived in harmony with God and God's creation looks like. Frickin a, it is a beautiful thing; just to know that such a kindred spirit exists gives me strength, power and hope - perhaps a selfish ambition, the love is pure and inspires me to serve the world joyfully.

All four of these people, perhaps with the exception of Mandy Moore who merely gave me the base image of an angel, have taught me lessons so invaluable and transcendent, that if my spirit were to be boiled down to its base elements, inevitably the residue of Merne, Gwen and Laura would remain after my spirit had evaporated. Kindreds spirits only come, they do not go. Spirits are eternal and we know when we meet them. It isn't the feeling of a higher degree of joy that so enraptures us, but a completely different kind of joy that captures us when blessed with their presence. I hope you too have experienced angels on earth; seen the face of God in a friend or loved one. These things are beautiful and God blesses us so, so that by reflecting even half of the light of our angels into the lives of those that we interact with, we bless the world.

"I think that I cannot preserve my health and spirits, unless I spend four hours a day at least--and it is commonly more than that--sauntering through the woods and over the hills and fields, absolutely free from all worldly engagements." Henry David Thoreau

Thoreau; the preeminent granola-munching, wood-wandering hippie. A man who, from his early days, chose to live a countercultural lifestye. The collect frightened him and the woods, though not readily welcoming him, did not explicitly reject his presence. So Thoreau found peace, alone in the woods. Recently, Thoreau's social detachment and natural engagement has become increasingly more attractive to me. Always shy, socially awkward and reclusive, my life often feels like a daily struggle, fighting to break into impersonal social networks, all the while questioning why so much energy is concentrated (and wasted) on something I am wanting less and less to a part of. Like Thoreau, I have always found my mind clearest and heart lightest in the woods, with the occasional visit of a good friend, worrying not about the things of this world, but instead living free on the bounties of nature. Energy restored. Someday, maybe someday Walden 2.0 will happen. Maybe not. For now, walking must suffice. Thus, Walking will be my Thoreau essay of choice for the time being. Walden will be waiting for the day when I go to woods to live deliberately.

On the Up and UP

Currently, I am sitting at Schultes Coffee House, looking out the large front window, snow falling gently on this June day. Crazy.

Well, the last couple of days have marked a turning point in my running break and recovery. My legs are beginning to come around. My arms are beginning to gain strength too. It helps to know the cause of problems when trying to fix something. Firstly, my right knee condition I have now come to know as retropatellar displacement. Basically, it is an advanced form of runner's knee. My right knee has always done this. It doesn't track nearly as cleanly as my left knee and consequently, over time and over-use, slowly shifts its load bearing to the outside of the knee. Over time my outer quadricep continues to strengthen and pull the knee even further to the outside, my inner quad then, on account of its now relinquished duties, weakens and, in my case, becomes atrophic and actually dies. It makes perfect sense. Looking straight down my body at my quads in a standing position, my right quad is noticeably narrower and piled up on the outer side of my leg, whereas my left leg appears well-balanced, inner and outer quad muscles. This much I already knew. After some research I found some great exercises to begin strengthening the inner thigh, abductors, adductors, hips and consequently, my knees. After one round of these exercises with bands, I felt like a new person - both physically and emotionally. I felt hopeful, that I had found a remedy to something that has been bothering me for some time now. I will continue doing these exercises 5-7 times a week through June before I start jogging again in July. When I return to the pavement and trail I went to be absolutely healthy and ready to run smart and clean. Game on! 

A Story

Not too long ago, perhaps 10 minutes before now - the actual timeline is of no consequence -, there was an incident. An incident. Of course, the whole of our lives are simple strings of incidences, some good, some bad, some better than good, some badder than bad, or worse... Regardless, this incident was an extraordinary incident. It, the incident, surpassed that of what is considered normal and thus became a story worth telling.

Men will be men, it is said. Vein the same, it is true that women will be women. Having now defined genders with genders, it is time... for what? The story.

The incident, men and women, the story is this:

Sauntering the path of most direct approach (to the local pub), Paul, the sole character of this story, was lost in thought.

'To what end will I be used in this life', Paul wondered as he ambled prudently. 'Is happiness a pipe dream in this work-a-day world of which I have become, what has come to feel like, a permanent fixture?'

'My friends? Well wait. What friends have I? Is life about that? Is my, our, everyone's purpose in this life to build relations with others, social networks? Is that where true joy lies? Perhaps. Are my social insecurities but sly deceptions of this wonderful truth? There it lies, the truth all around me, in the faces, the actions, the words, the expressions, the smiles and the joy of those kindred spirits nearest I. How can such truth feel so unnatural? Is that natural? Likely not. There must be an explanation for this. There must be an underlying truth, undergirding the lies that are continually at work eroding my confidence and destroying my sense of place in the social institutions of this world.'

Just then, in the middle of what was on track to be one of the longer musings of Paul's jumbled mind, a truck cut hard right mere inches from the bard's front. Razed by the near death experience, Paul's thoughts turned presently to the immediacy of his philosophizing.

'I must find my place - purpose and future - in this world immediately,' Paul vented.'Lost, I am but a nomad without a herd, wandering aimlessly towards a bitter end.'

Life had taught Paul that lessons, true, spiritual, existential questions, cannot be forced on one's own conscious. Answers to our deepest, most definitive questions come on their own time, on God's time. But by our own volition we are without the most basic answers that every soul has sought. God decides. Our dreaming is too conservative, too weak, too shallow, Paul knew. The greatest answers arrive when we have ceased seeking out the branches from which they spur, and instead seek the trunk from which they originate. Suddenly, losing himself on this stream of thought, Paul found himself at great peace, grounded in this new and wonderful truth. He need not think about the trivialities of life, the answers to his most basic life questions. The trunk, the strength of the tree, God, is where he must fix his focus. Fear fades, worry abates and life comes. This is freedom.

'How could I have missed such a simple truth?', Paul sighed.

'Living in freedom, in the creator's freedom, I am free, absolutely free to live, not worry, to be, not seem, and to carry-on as if everyday were my first and without fear, the last. Life is not defined by what I think, but by how I live. Comfort. Complete, consummate comfort. I am free.'

Paul continued on his journey to the pub, arriving some forty minutes after setting out from his one bedroom flat. A contagious smile sat wonderfully upon his face as he sat straight, proud and with assured peace at the bar, sipping contentedly on a wonderful brew. Doubtless, his present disposition spread wildly to the other patrons of the pub, without his knowing, but in his knowing existed his recent revelation - a revelation that would forever change his life and inadvertently affect the lives all the souls he subsequently encountered.