I'm Baaaacccckkkk! Well, Almost

I have not gone missing.   My hands were not chopped off in a horrible accident that prevents me from writing.  I did not lose interest in writing this blog, or become creativity challenged, or get another job.  The fact is, I haven't been writing, because I still put my family first.

It has been a very busy summer.  Even if I wasn't the kind of mom to be involved with my kids every day, there is still quite a bit of commotion at my house, which makes it difficult to write, and I did not want to spend most of my summer away when two of my three kids are going off to college next week.    But I have managed to get to the U.P of Michigan a couple of times this summer, and as always, I have many adventures to write about.  Just not quite yet.

I also had an idea in the back of my mind all summer, and I've let it grow in its own time, to the point where I am ready to take this idea and run with it.  I love to explore Michigan, and usually will pick a State campground I've not yet visited, to expand my knowledge and experience of this beautiful state.  Since I have been to so many different State Parks, I have an itch to start cataloging my experiences at each location, and compile a collection of useful information for readers who would like to try a new place for exploring or camping.  The collection will include real photos of State campgrounds, not just the pretty ones on the DNR website, so campers will have an idea ahead of time what to expect.  Also will be my recommendations for places to go in the area, with descriptions, and stories of the colorful characters I seem to meet wherever I go.

I have long needed a focus for my blog, and while I have been writing for the last two years about the places I go, I want to organize my words into a format that would be easy for readers to find information about places they are interested in visiting.  Of course, this also means I have to make a serious commitment to spending at least a couple of nights in every State Park, even the ones in which I have no interest.  The fact is, no matter where I go in Michigan, I always find some unexpected wonderful thing, so I would be broadening my own horizons as well.

Lake Michigan, Manisitque, Michigan

But before I can begin to put all my thoughts together and figure out how I will approach this project, I have to get my kids off to school, which will happen in the next couple of weeks.  As I am packing up to head home from Indian Lake, I have two very busy weeks ahead of me at home, and I am looking forward to helping my kids prepare for new phases in their own lives.  But once September comes (isn't that a line from a song?) I will be ready to start a new phase of my own, and I hope you will keep checking back to see how it's coming along.  I love Michigan, I am always amazed at what it has to offer, and I would love to find a way to inspire others to get out and explore!

So bye for now, I will see you in September.

A Tin Can for the Wise One

Last night, I had a long talk with my daughter while sitting by the bonfire.  We had been silent companions, enjoying the heat and the dancing flames, when she quietly said,

"My life is boring".  

She went on to say that she goes to school, she comes home, she does her homework, and she goes to bed.  She never does anything exciting or fun.  It's true.  So I asked her if she wants to invite a friend over after her soccer game today.  She replied,

"I don't really have any friends".

I know what she means.  She has a school friend who has taken her on family trips and loves being with my girl.  But that friend has lots of friends, so our Wise One doesn't spend all her time with her.  My daughter is liked well enough by the other girls, but she doesn't get invited to their homes.  I threw out the names of some girls from her class, but she kept coming back with reasons why they aren't her friends.  Finally she said to me, "Mom, I'm okay with not having friends.  Those girls are all into drama and boys, and I don't care about any of it.  I don't need friends.  What I need is a job."

She's twelve years old, and she wants a job.  So I gave her one.

She said she wants to start her own blog, but doesn't want to talk about kid stuff.  I have heard The Wise One talk passionately about politics and religion and the economy, and while her arguments are well-thought positions with intelligence and humor as her emphasis, she does not have the years of experience for her arguments to be tempered with an open mind.   I think the idea of my twelve year old writing a blog about adult issues is a bad, bad idea.

I asked her if she would like to take over writing one of my other blogs, Rooney Speaks.  I started it a while back, but since I have a hard enough time finding opportunities to write on this blog, I have written very little on Rooney Speaks.

Rooney is my dog.  He is a very large, messy, lovable dog who tends to get himself into trouble.  My daughter adores him and is annoyed by him at the same time.  But she was intrigued by the idea of writing about our lives through our dog's eyes, and I saw a little spark come alive inside her.

Maybe writing is her tin can.  We all need a tin can.  Mine is the vintage Airstream I lovingly live in part-time, traveling to my wilderness and learning about adventure as I go along.  My tin can is where I find my excitement, my joy, and my peace.  My Wise One needs to find her own tin can, but I suspect hers will be much the same as mine.

We made a pact.  I will bring Rooney into the picture more often by letting him come to her soccer games and school events, and taking him with us everywhere we go.  She will write about his antics on my blog.  She is quite excited about this plan.

It was getting late last night by the time we finished our talk, but The Wise One wanted to have a go at the blog.  I showed her how to access it on the computer, then left her alone.  She only wrote one small paragraph, because she said she hasn't given enough thought to it yet, but I was pleasantly surprised by what she wrote.  Without any guidance from me, she wrote using Rooney's voice, not hers or mine.  It is a short piece, but amusing.  The Wise One plans to write more.

This morning, she woke up early - as she always does - and ran out to my computer to see how many people have read her blog since last night.  She was thrilled to have 39 hits.  She already understands the satisfaction a writer gets from knowing someone is interested enough to hear what she (or Rooney!) has to say.

It makes me so very proud to see my daughter wanting to follow in my footsteps.  The best part is, unlike me, she is not waiting until she is having a mid-life crisis at 48 to know what she can contribute to the world.  If she sticks with it, The Wise One could someday use the written word to inspire, and change the way people see themselves and their world.  Or she might work at Target.  She hasn't decided yet.

I hope you will check out her blog, Rooney Speaks, so that when she gets home from her soccer game this afternoon and anxiously checks the dashboard, she will have even more hits.  You might even want to sign up to follow her blog.  That way, someday when she is writing powerful thoughts, you can say, "I have followed her from the beginning!'  Who knows?  Her Tin Can might be my Tin Can.  I dare say, hers will be better than mine, and nothing would make me happier.

The Things I Never Had

When I am home alone, I often have the TV on, just to keep me company.  I don't actually watch what is on the tube, it merely serves as background noise.  Once in a while, I pick up on a line or two coming through the TV speakers, and recently heard a sentence of dialogue that got me thinking.  It was a random moment, where my ears just happened to hear the TV character say,

"Those are things I never had".  The actress was lamenting the things she never had as a child, and how her life was negatively affected by their absence.  That kind of thinking brings out the worst in me and in a moment of unkindness, I looked at the TV and said "Quit whining!"

But the line stayed in my head.  I thought about it as I did the laundry.  The words came back to me during one of my many episodes of insomnia.  A theme began swirling around in my head, until I reached the point where I had to put my thoughts into perspective.

www.guess.com

Sure, my childhood wasn't perfect.  Instead of whining about it, I was thinking how lucky I am, because I never suffered.  I had a good home, with a mom and a dad who love and respect each other to this day.  I had the too-important pair of Guess jeans in high school, which any self-respecting teen in the early 80's simply had to have.  I wore those jeans until I became pregnant with my first child.  I had delicious southern fried meals every day, courtesy of my southern mom.  My parents were far from wealthy, but we took a few family vacations, drove a decent car, and had everything we needed.  My parents were involved and caring.  Sometimes a little too involved, but what teenager doesn't feel that way?  The best thing we had, though, was books.

My parents, my sister, and I still love to read.  My dad built a library in our home, and we often went to the bookstore as a family, where my mother could never deny me that third or fourth book in my pile, even though she knew I would read all of them in a week and beg for more.  Once I started middle school, I found amazing discoveries in my father's books.  He had books on every subject, from every part of the world.  I never ran out of things to read in my parents' house.  It was in those books that I found myself.

I grew up in the city.  I realized at a very young age that I hated the city.  I longed for the wide open spaces I read about in my books, I wanted to see the mountains and rivers and valleys.  I wanted to live on a farm.  As far back as I can remember, I coveted land.  I vowed to myself that some day, I would live in a place where I couldn't see another house but I could see untamed land for miles.  Instead of the steady sounds of city life with its cars backfiring and sirens wailing and neighbors yelling, I dreamt of hearing the wind and rushing water.  I believed, as a child, that it would just happen, that I would live in a place when I grew up that existed in my books and my heart.  It never happened.

When I was seven years old, I read The Boxcar Children for the first of many times.  Oh, how I envied Henry, Jessie, Violet and Benny for their boxcar home!  I wanted to run away from home and find my own boxcar to live in, but I never got very far away from my mother's watchful eyes.  In college, I went for a walk one day away from the campus, and found an abandoned boxcar in the woods a couple of miles from my dorm.  I was so delighted that whenever I couldn't sleep, I would walk there in the middle of the night and sit in that old boxcar to dream of my future.  I'm pretty sure that's when the dream was born of living in a little cabin high on a bluff deep in the woods overlooking the water.

As my life went on, I fell madly in love with a man from my hometown.  We married, and I moved straight from my parents' home to my husband's home, in the city.  I neglected my dreams as I embraced a new vision for my life with my husband and the three children that came along.  We moved to a bigger house just outside of the city, and I was happy to stay home, raise my family, and embrace suburban living.  My childhood dreams were never forgotten, they just didn't seem important anymore.

Twenty years ago, when my first child was born and I had the perfect husband and we were starting a perfect life together, no one could have told me what I would feel like now.  I couldn't foresee a time when my family would not be the center of my universe.  Then my kids grew up.  Damn them for turning out to be the responsible, independent young adults I raised them to be.  I never would have believed how much it would hurt to be so proud of my kids for making their own way.

Thinking about the things I never had has taken on an entirely new context.  I never had a mountain to climb or a river to cross.  I never had a bear, wolf, or moose run through my back yard, I didn't even have deer in my yard!  I never felt the rush of adrenaline as I rode my bike down a narrow ridge or pushed a canoe down the swift current of rushing whitewater.  I spent my childhood indoors, reading my books and imagining the lives of others, while never really living my own.

Google Images

The things I never had are what move me forward now.  There is a time for everything, and for each of us, the time is different.  I made the choices that were right for me, back then.  I did what I was meant to do by being a mother first and foremost.  I loved it!  Now, I find myself remembering my childhood dreams, and they are reawakening.  I find that I still want land around me, I still want that little cabin, and I still want to climb a mountain.  I may never have had those things before, but dreaming of them for 48 years just makes them that much sweeter.  Now is the time for me to be something all by myself, and that something will grow out of a child's longing to be outside, part of the vastness of the land and the greatness of a natural world.

These days, I don't live in a boxcar, but I do love living in my tin can, the old Airstream.  It's just like the boxcar, except I made it my own.  I park it in the woods like an abandoned old trailer so I can cook outside, search the woods for treasures, and seek its shelter at night.  Just like Henry, Jessie, Violet and Benny, I don't need to be found.  I need to be lost in my childhood dreams, writing the rest of my story, for once making it up as I go along.

Glass Lake, Google Images

Google Images

 I don't use my childhood as an excuse for not living passionately, in a place where I belong.  I was exactly where I belonged for many years, taking care of my family and giving them the best of me.  Now there is a new place for me to belong, and I am being drawn there because of the things I never had.  I recently searched for properties in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, and found the perfect piece of land.  There are 360 acres of wild land surrounding a completely undeveloped body of water called Glass Lake.  The property has a high bluff on the north end of Glass Lake, the ideal spot for my little cabin.  Of course, one of the things I've never had is a winning lottery ticket, so I won't be buying Glass Lake at the bargain price of $1.8 million any time soon, but I know there is land out there waiting for me and my cabin.   Right now, I am planning a trip to kayak on Lake Superior, and another trip to the Porcupine Mountains, and several smaller trips camping in the woods in the tin can.  Alaska is still on the horizon, too.  I will hear the rush of water, climb a mountain, see a wolf, and stand in the middle of wide open spaces and breathe the glory of the land.  My time to be inspired by the things I never had is coming.  I am older, wiser, and in the right position to fully appreciate who I might become.  I have been patient with my dreams and I believe good things come to those who wait, so as I take these baby-steps toward my future I am learning once more to be open to what lies ahead and be grateful for the things I never had.

Google Images

Dude, That's Crazy!

It is always my hope to inspire even one person to live with purpose, passion, and peace.  When you get to be my age, you tend to look back and wonder why you didn't do it sooner.  It has always been my choice; I just didn't realize it until I had years of living under my belt.

But some people make that choice at a very young age.  They are pulled by their passion and nothing gets in their way.  Surrounding myself with passionate people inspires me, and on the final evening of my recent adventure to the Michigan Ice Fest, I found myself not only inspired, but once again wondering why I had waited so long to do this!  One of my many inspirations came from an extraordinary young woman named Zoe Hart.

Zoe Hart, Google Images

Having climbed Opening Curtain during the day with Zoe, I was looking forward to her presentation and learning more about her.  Zoe's personality shines in even the briefest of moments spent in her company, but I didn't learn much about her history or what brought her here, nor did I have the opportunity to ask her my burning question about why she does this, what makes her different? The answer was self-evident in her personality anyway.  Zoe Hart is joyful, passionate, energetic, infectious, strong, supportive…shall I go on?  I could.  So much life emanates from her!  A compact little bundle of passion, Zoe's every word and every movement made me want to reach for the sky and believe I could accomplish anything.

Zoe Hart, Google Images

One of only four American women to have achieved the highest accreditation from the International Federation of Mountain Guides Association, Zoe is one of the few alpinists I met who did not grow up hearing the call to the mountains.  She grew up in New Jersey, and then went to Boston College to study English Literature in what she calls the path to a normal life.  But then her father passed away unexpectedly from a heart attack, and the impact on Zoe pushed her to find her passion.  She went to the mountains, and the rest is history.  Zoe has achieved first ascents on mountains in Switzerland, Scotland, and Oman, and first female ascents in Alaska.  She also set a first ski descent speed record in Pakistan.

Maxime Turgeon and Zoe Hart, Google Images

While climbing in France, Zoe met her future husband, alpinist Maxime Turgeon, and they now live in Chamonix, France with their infant son.  When the relationship was new, Max would take care of Zoe while climbing, but now that the honeymoon is over he serves as her greatest inspiration while pushing her to her limits and insisting she carry her own weight!

Zoe Hart and Sue Nott
Google Images

Zoe's zest for living and pushing herself carries into every aspect of her life.  During her presentation, she spoke of her mentors, particularly Sue Nott, who taught her to forget she's a woman when climbing, but hide fashion magazines in her pack.  Sue died while climbing, as have other partners Zoe has had, and the impact on Zoe is to push herself further to keep their memory alive.

It was fitting that at the end of Zoe's presentation, we were honored by a special guest, Sue Nott's mother, Evi.

Maddie, Rachael, and Evi

Evi had been in our group of women that day, climbing the ice for the first time in 10 years.  I was drawn to her from the moment we met for her grace and warmth.  She is one of those rare people that makes you feel good with just a smile and a kind word.  Her encouragement for

 the rest of us that day was so genuine and uplifting.  She was attending the Michigan Ice Fest for the first time, brought by event organizer Bill Thompson to present the Sue Nott scholarship to Maddie and Rachael for their foray into ice climbing.  Each year, two young girls are awarded a scholarship to attend the ice fest and continue the passion of Sue Nott for female alpinists.

Evi faced a roomful of 450 people and spoke of her daughter with laughter and love.  After giving background on Sue's unstoppable quest for conquering mountains, Evi joked that she had sent Sue to college and begged her to complete those last 4 credits to graduate, when Sue left to climb a mountain with partner Karen McNeill of New Zealand.  Evi's voice dropped then, and it seems everyone in that room knew what was coming next except me.  You could have heard a pin drop as Evi said,

Karen Mcneill and Sue Nott, Google Images

"In May of 2006, Sue and Karen left to climb Mount Foraker in Alaska, and were never seen again".

I thought about that statement.  Never seen again.  Two days after they should have made contact, search crews set out, but other than Sue's backpack, nothing was ever found to explain what happened to these two women.  They just…disappeared.  They were taken by the mountain to forever be a part of it.

I began to understand Evi Nott's strength.  Not because she lives with the uncertainty of what happened to her child, but because even knowing the risks, she allowed her child to go.  It isn't that she just allowed it, but she loved and celebrated her daughter in living a life of passion.  It takes a special kind of love, the kind of love every mother should know, to give her child the gift of following her dream.

In Memory of Sue Nott
Google Images

Evi Nott loved and lost her daughter; but she shares her memories and inspires others to live the way Sue lived.  I am honored to have spent time with Evi, I will never forget her smile, the kind words she spoke to me, and her strength.  And even now, she climbs the ice like a pro; she wasn't even tired when she finished!  I asked her how it felt to climb again, and with her beautiful smile, Evi said,

"It felt great!"

It certainly did.










The final presenter of the weekend was a man whose name I had heard many, many times that weekend.  Everyone was talking about Will Gadd.  As his slideshow began, I quickly found out why.  This guy is crazy!  With each new slide, as Will spoke of climbs all over the world, someone would whisper "Dude, that's crazy".  This video shows just what I mean as Will and Tim Emmett climb the never-before-attempted Helmcken Falls in British Columbia, named by Gadd "Spray On".  The following images, taken from willgadd.com, also give you an idea of how he likes to spend his time defying sanity:

Will Gadd certainly has done things that most of us cannot even imagine.  But as he told story after story with a humorous twist, a theme began to emerge, and Will's message is worth repeating.


There is something in the Alpine world called "The List", which Will displayed on the big screen.  It is his list of all the partners and climbers he has known who have been taken by the mountain.  The List is long.  Will Gadd knows, as any climber does, that he is not on The List mostly because of luck, but also because of something he calls "the positive power of negative thinking".

To an outsider, these accomplished alpinists are crazy; who in their right mind would do this?  But everyone I met at The Michigan Ice Fest, while acknowledging the risk, spoke of safety.  People like Will, and all the other presenters at the ice fest, don't just fly to some remote part of the world and start climbing a mountain.  They spend weeks and months researching routes, equipment, weather, rock and ice conditions, and thousands of other details.  Sometimes, even after all this preparation, Will arrives for an expedition, and negative thoughts creep into his plan.  When this happens, Will aborts the climb.  He has learned the positive power of negative thinking, and its how he stays off "The List".

Every single presenter at the Michigan Ice Fest has thousands of stories to tell.  But they also have educations, experiences, and involvement with the communities who welcome them.  I was surprised to learn of the many volunteer efforts they participate in for the environment, the arts, third-world concerns like education and health care, and countless other ways in which these climbers are aware and involved.  They give back so much of themselves.  Alpinists are larger-than-life people who push themselves mentally, physically, spiritually, and never waste a minute of life.  Are they crazy?  No.  They are passionate, purposeful, and peaceful.  In a word, incredible.  I am so grateful to have met them and heard their words, to have felt, just for a moment, what they feel.  I am a better person for it.

If you've been following my story, I promised that I would give you the "Beta" on the Michigan Ice Fest; the information you need before you go.  It's very simple.  Just GO.  Once you register with Michigan Ice Fest (and I suggest you start checking in September for opening registration) you will be given the information you need.  Everything else will fall into place once you get there.

But the same advice holds true for anything.  What makes you different?  What passion is calling?  You have a choice.  You can either keep on getting through life, even with success, or you can live passionately.  It doesn't even matter what your dream is.  You can restore antique cars, make beautiful quilts, be an outdoor adventurer, a writer, a singer, an artist.  You can build an orphanage, or decide to be a positive person who brightens the lives of those around you.  You can supply clean water in third world countries.  Share your faith, teach children to read or ski down a mountain or start a website.  Invent a product.  Read every classic novel.  Anything.  You don't have to walk away from your family and your job and your responsibilities; you can do both.  But you have to commit to doing it.

I have spent the last year carving pieces of time into my busy life to do what I love most; going outside, and writing about it.  There are many obstacles, but I don't give up trying.  I believe that if I start spending at least some of my time doing what I love, everything good will follow.

Despite what my friends (and even some of my family) think, I'm not crazy because I wanted to climb ice.  The experience taught me that I am on the right track to becoming the person I always believed I would be, I just got sidetracked for 25 years.  I left the Ice Fest feeling strong, peaceful, joyful, and with the sense that I had been in the right place, with good people, and for a reason other than climbing.

This summer, I plan to Kayak in white water.  Dude, that's crazy!

Google Images

Returning to Bagwaji

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods;

There is rapture on the lonely shore;

There is society, where none intrudes,

By the deep sea, and music in its roar;

I love not man the less, but Nature more.

-Lord Byron

This is one of my favorite poems; I carved the words by hand with a pocket knife on the door of my Shack, which is no longer mine.  These words always come back to me when I travel, so even though I had driven many miles to participate in the Michigan Ice Fest, I simply could not be five days in the U.P. without spending one of those days doing what I love best, the solitary Bagwaji.

Despite several invitations from my new friends at the Ice Fest to go climbing on Friday, I resisted the temptation and stayed true to my nature by spending the day alone, hiking in the north woods.  Bagwaji is an Ojibwe term for into the wild.  Perhaps my American Indian ancestry calls me to the woods, or possibly I just gain so much from a solitary communing with nature that I felt drawn in the direction of the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore's North Country Trail to hike, breathe, and take it all in.

Wearing many layers to combat temperatures in the single digits and the ever-present wind coming off Lake Superior, I drove to the Munising Falls trailhead, left my vehicle, and took the path toward the North Country Trail.  A Cross Country skier had gone in the same direction, which made my hiking easier as I followed his tracks.  The hike was steep and mostly uphill, making me think the skier ahead of me must be in very good shape, and as I huffed and puffed and once again cursed myself for the many bowls of Captain Crunch I have consumed, I continued on at a leisurely pace (as if I was capable of a brisk pace) and stopped often to capture images of snow, snow, and more snow.  I don't often see that much snow where I live.

Upon reaching the level of 200' above the shoreline, the trail evens out and follows the stone ridge from which the ice formations originate.  There are few opportunities to actually see the frozen waterfalls, as they are below the ridgeline, though at one point I was hiking in silence, only to come upon a sudden vantage point for watching the climbers below.  I didn't even know they were there until I was quite literally standing over them.  As I took photo after photo of people climbing the ice, I realized that they were unaware of my presence, which made for some good candid shots.  I have to admit, it felt kind of creepy to be standing there watching people who didn't know I was there, so I moved on.  Later I ran into the Cross Country skier, who turned out to be a climber I had met the night before, so he slowed his pace for me and I hiked out behind him.

I then continued on alone again, hiking down Sand Point Road and finding the access point up to the ice.  Once more going up a steep incline, I found climbers from the Ice Fest and went a little wild with my camera, climbing ledges and outcroppings to get the right angle and the close-up shots without actually strapping on crampons and climbing the ice with them.  Angling ever up, I eventually made it back to the North Country Trail and continued east to the marsh trail, which was deserted and gave me two hours of being completely alone.  When I say completely, I mean it.  No birds, no wolf tracks, no moose, no cougar (one of which had been in the general area 4 months ago), and of course the bear and snakes were all hibernating.  Thank goodness the snakes were hibernating; I was in a marsh, after all.  I focused on the snow and the many unusual formations the wind twists the white flakes into, including finding my first snow snake.  Even that made me breathe a little quicker.  I studied the different species of trees, pleased to see so many birch, with their curling bark and smooth trunks.  I hiked, I listened to the wind and the moments of complete silence, I reveled in the contrast between blinding white snow and dark trees which held their secrets waiting for Spring to reveal their full form.

Snow Snake!!!!!!!!!!

I indulged in my fascination with brightness and darkness, shadow and light.  It never fails to amaze me the patterns that are formed by natural light, though instead of getting my camera back out of my pack, I just sat for a long while on a snow-covered log and contemplated the shadow and light.  Filled with inspiration and longing to better understand the natural world, the winter landscape displayed black and white simplicity,  and in every object a purpose.  What a beautiful reminder to stay focused, to give purpose to my words and actions.

That purpose of action came about quickly when I realized the sky was growing darker.  With much reluctance, I left my perch and hiked back to my vehicle.  Eager for the evening festivities, I made my way back to Sydney's for companionship and food.

What sets the Michigan Ice Fest above other adventure weekends is the efforts of Bill Thompson to bring us all together at the end of the day for camaraderie and even more excitement.  Bill offers food and drink, new and rekindled friendships, reps on site for advice and gear, and the extremely popular slideshows!

www.fabriziozangrilli.com

Friday's lineup was every bit as awesome as the previous night with Bill Thompson and Ben Erdmann. First up was Fabrizio Zangrilli.  Seriously, with a name like that, I knew he would be fabulous, and he did not disappoint.  Fabrizio lives in Colorado, but for the past 22 years his climbing has taken him all around the world, from Alaska to Antarctica.  His slideshow told stories of leading expeditions to Everest, K2, Cho Oyu, the Gasherbrums, Nuptse South Face, Ama Dablam, Pumori and Cerro Torre.  According to his blog, Fabrizio is one of the few climbers to go from K2 base camp, 5000m, to Camp 4, 7900m, and back to base camp in a day.  He believes in speed and safety.

www.fabriziozangrilli.com

www.fabriziozangrilli.com

Fabrizio told us that many people ask him how to get started as an alpinist, how does one prepare to take on such an adventurous lifestyle?  His advice is "research how to be cold and lonely".  From there he told many stories that made us laugh, accompanied by photos of his expeditions.  But Fabrizio also spoke of safety and caution, and friends lost to the mountain, and gave us all a sobering reminder that such a lifestyle carries inherent risk.  Alpinists are not reckless.  They are prepared and educated and aware of the risks.  Again, the question came to mind;  why do they do this?  What makes them different?  I was only beginning to understand the answer, but I'm pretty sure it has more to do with the mountain in front of them than the lure of adventure.

Fabrizio's tales filled the room with laughter, and as he concluded with a message to be safe and climb on, it occurred to me that the people brought to the Michigan Ice Fest are indeed professionals, not just because they are sponsored Alpinists, but because they are educated and amusing speakers who draw you into their lives and share their passion.  

I'd had the privilege of meeting another of these professionals the previous night when Bill Thompson introduced me to Joe Josephson.  Bill did not tell me Joe is an alpinist, he just said there was someone I should meet.  Joe spent a little time talking to me about growing up in Montana, but it wasn't until he began speaking after Fabrizio that I realized who he really is.  He was so friendly and down-to-earth, I was amazed to hear the stories of his many accomplishments and roles other than climbing.  

Joe is the published author of Winter Dance: Select Ice Climbs in Southern Montana and Northern Wyoming, and a marketing force for the alpine community.  He organizes the Bozeman Ice Fest each year and works tirelessly to promote safety and achievement on the mountain.  As Regional Coordinator for the Access Fund, Joe has received national recognition for his multi-year campaign regarding winter use in Hyalite Canyon.  He promotes stewardship and conservancy, as well as increasing understanding of landscapes and wildlife through direct experience. (Huffington Post, Feb 2013)  

In addition to being an author, alpinist, sales rep, photographer, and event organizer of the annual Bozeman Ice Climbing Festival, Joe produces videos. One of his recent works,  Genesis: 40 Years of Hyalite Ice Climbing, is a delightful story of old vs. new as Pat Callis, the first climber ever to complete and name the Genesis route in Montana in 1971, climbs Genesis again with Pat Wolfe, a young but experienced alpinist.  The twist in the plot is the use of Callis' original climbing tools from the 70's, which has Wolfe wondering if he can even accomplish the climb.

Courtesy Google Images

Tools have come a long way since then, thanks in part to Yvon Chouinard, alpinist and founder of Patagonia.  A visionary in climbing and in business, Chouinard believes that "how you climb a mountain is more important than reaching the top" and even though he has developed many improvements in climbing gear, he strongly believes that the equipment doesn't matter nearly as much as ability and experience.  His philosophy drives the point in "Genesis".

It was also Chouinard who said "It's not an adventure until something goes wrong".  Joe Josephson knows a little something about that.  Throughout his presentation, the prevailing theme was aborted climbs due to equipment failure.  The story becomes even weirder when you discover that it was the same piece of equipment that failed every time:  the stove.

www.jetboil.com

Joe has more stories of being in the middle of an expedition and being unable to rehydrate due to the stove not working, the stove being accidentally kicked off the mountain, the stove's fuel running out, and more.  Without the stove, climbers cannot melt snow to purify it and drink water.  Since climbers dehydrate quicker in cold temperatures, the stove is absolutely necessary to complete the climb.  If it's not an adventure until something goes wrong, Joe has had a lot of adventures!

Courtesy Google Images

I also posed my question to Joe.  When most people do not spend their life on such extreme adventures, what makes him different?  He paused for a moment, and answered, "that's a really hard question".

Joe grew up with the Beartooth Mountains in his back yard.  As a child, he would stare at those mountains and knew in his heart "that's where I wanted to be".  The only answer Joe could give me was his awe of the scale and magnificence of the mountains, which pulled at him and drew him in.

The answer that was emerging all weekend was that unexplainable something that draws these alpinists to the mountain, or in the case of our weekend, a tower of ice.  I don't think it's the challenge of climbing that makes the climber different, it's the call of the land that not everyone hears.  Each of the alpinists that presented at Michigan Ice Fest have gone to college and studied nature.  It's almost as if they need to know the mountain.

www.michiganicefest.com

Joe Josephson has faced and conquered many challenges in his life.  An accomplished alpinist, he has known adversity and embraced success.  All of the professional climbers in the room had this same quality. But as I spent time with the participants of the Ice Fest, I heard so many personal stories of life's challenges.  Every one of the 450+ people there had a reason for being there to climb the ice, and we had all overcome challenges to be a part of this weekend.    There is a reason people put aside their daily lives to spend a few days climbing a frozen tower of ice, and the reasons were important.

I had my own reasons for being there, but my personal challenges do not matter so much as my experience on the ice.  Regardless of why we were there, we all shared the experience of being called to the mountain - or Pictured Rocks - and becoming part of something bigger than ourselves.

I have as hard a time answering my own question as the other climbers did.  When the people at home all thought I was crazy to come here, what makes me different?  I hear the call, and I answer it.  I go to immerse myself in the scale and magnificence of the landscape and learn from it, pushing myself to be worthy of the land.

These people aren't crazy.  They are informed and careful planners.  What sets them apart is they do not ignore the longing inside of them, they chase after it.  As I left Sydney's that night to get a good rest before the Saturday climbing class I was taking, I wondered why on earth I had waited so long to answer this call.  I was right where I longed to be, with people who understood, and the ice was waiting for me.

Climb on!

What Makes You Different?

Courtesy www.openwalls.com

As I spent last weekend trying to take in all the new people, places, and experiences at Michigan Ice Fest, one burning question was on my mind.  When I told friends and acquaintances I would be traveling to Michigan's U.P. to go ice climbing, they all asked "Are you crazy?"  After my experience at the Ice Fest, I have to say maybe I am a little bit crazy.

It seemed to be the theme of the weekend.  But still, I looked at all my new companions, from the people who were there for the first time to the ones who go back year after year to the professional alpinists, and wondered what it is about them that makes them want to climb the ice.

This group of people didn't seem to realize that 99% of people simply don't want to climb…anything. So to the members of this select group, I posed the question all weekend.  When most people would be terrified to do what you do, what makes you different?  Why do you do this?

I first asked this question of my unexpected climbing partners on Thursday.  I hadn't planned on attempting my first climb until Saturday in the Women's Intro to Ice Class, but I met a man named Bob at the motel who said he had enough extra equipment to take me out to the ice formations.  All I needed was climbing boots.  Right away, I felt some apprehension, because I didn't even know that I needed "special" boots.  I walked over to Sydney's, the bar-slash-official headquarters of Ice Fest, and met Nic, who works at Down Wind Sports and is one of the many people who aided me in my quest for knowledge.

Courtesy www.salewa.us

The first thing I asked Nic was, can I trust this guy?  I am a woman traveling alone, attempting to do something I've never done before that holds inherent risk, and I'm considering trusting a stranger to keep death at bay while I dangle from a tower of ice.  Nic gave me some great information about safety, and even showed me what to inspect on the borrowed equipment.  He then suggested a few questions I should ask Bob, and if he gave the correct answers, I should be able to trust that Bob knows what he is doing.

I was fitted in a pair of demo boots by Nic.  They were pretty cool boots.  Made by Salewa, the Pro Gaitor Mountaineering Boot has many critical features that I came to appreciate as the day went on.  They were warm and stayed dry, but have a breathable membrane so my feet didn't sweat.  The grippy Vibram Salewa Pro outsole gives a good grip in snow without strapping on a crampon.  And the best feature of all is the adjustable tension system which allows you to switch between walking and climbing mode with a twist of the included allen wrench.  Usually, wearing a pair of rented boots would lead to blisters and swollen toes, but these boots were so comfortable and warm, I forgot I had them on.

Armed with boots and advice from Nic, I went back to the motel and knocked on Bob's door.  He introduced me to his climbing partner, Francesco from Rome, Italy, and after some time spent adjusting gear and packing up my back pack, we left in my Yukon to find some ice!

Again, this was all new to me.  I didn't know that we had to drive to the parking area at the end of Sand Point Road, leave our vehicle, and walk most of the way back down the road, find an access point, and hike up a steep incline.  I was exhausted before we even reached the ice!  I was so focused on putting one foot in front of the other, that when I glanced up to finally see the ice in front of me, it took my breath away.

I had to wait, a rather long time, while Bob found the higher access point and hiked above the falls to place the top rope.  I kept my feet moving to stay warm, and when Bob finally came back down, helped me into my harness, and told me to start climbing, I panicked.  Just like that?  Start climbing?  What do I do?

Bob on Belay

Bob said that when my ice pick was firmly grounded, I would know by the sound the ice makes.  Huh?  What on earth does that mean?  But this was what I came here to do, so I strapped on my crampons, grabbed my picks, and started climbing.

I didn't get far.  I was exhausted from the horrendous drive the day before, I'd had little sleep, I'd already put a few miles in just getting here, and my arms were shaking from fatigue.  No worries though, because the first time my pick hit the ice and stuck, I heard it.  A light dawned in me and I realized this is what I came for; all thoughts left my head, it was just me and the tower of ice in front of me, talking to me, breathing on me, keeping the promise to stay motionless in its intended purpose.  I trusted the sounds, the feel, and the ice.  It was that moment of me being one with this natural wonder I clung to, knowing I was part of the ice and it was part of me.  Crazy?  No.  Just right.

I began to answer my own question in that moment.  What makes me different?  The answer doesn't come from words, it comes from a feeling of being part of nature, understanding the world around me that God made.  I felt the ice, and it was all good.

I asked Bob to belay me back down.  He said I did okay for my first try.  I wasn't embarrassed that I didn't go all the way to the top, however I was determined to get some rest and push myself to go much farther the next time.  I was already hooked; ice climbing is like nothing I've ever done before, and I wanted more.

Francesco

While Bob and Francesco completed their own climbs, I hiked back to the Yukon alone.  I needed time to absorb what I had learned and done and felt.  When I finally reached the car, I planned on sitting in it with the heat running until Bob and Francesco returned; I was too restless.  Even though the wind was at gale force coming off Lake Superior, and it was 4 degrees F, and the falling snow was almost horizontal, I started hiking.  I hiked for an hour, thinking of nothing but the sound that pick made in the ice, and arrived back at the Yukon just as my partners were coming down the road.

My First Climbing Partners
Francesco and Bob

Later that evening at Sydney's, I experienced my first of several slideshow presentations from some of the most experienced and respected climbers in the world.  This became something I eagerly looked forward to each night!

I had introduced myself to the organizer of Ice Fest, Bill Thompson, and he graciously pointed me in the direction of all the people he thought had stories to tell.  Through him, I met so many amazing people!  First I met Mary, who until a year ago was in a wheelchair, a victim of Cushing's Syndrome.  Her bones had weakened to the point she had fractured her spine.  After several years of misdiagnosis and poor treatment, she met a doctor determined to help her.  One night, as Mary slept in her hospital bed, she dreamt of a voice telling her she would be okay.  When she woke, her newest doctor was sitting at her side, holding her hand, and when he spoke, she realized his was the voice she heard in her dream.  He had stayed by her side all night, praying for her recovery.  Within weeks, she was walking with a walker, then a cane, then on her own.  She is now strong enough to attempt ice climbing.  She knows in her heart that the doctor's prayers cured her, and she is determined to embrace life and new challenges.  She had climbed the ice that day and was feeling on top of the world!

I also met Rachael, a 12 year old girl who was attending the Michigan Ice Fest as the recipient of the Sue Nott Scholarship (more on that later).  Bill helped me set up an interview with Rachael and her mother.  Rachael is a delightful young lady who claims to not be a winter person, which gave me a laugh.  I asked her why she applied for a scholarship to climb ice if she hates winter.  She told me she is a rock climber who is looking for a new challenge.  In her words, ice climbing is a scary concept, but her first attempt was "epic" and changed her life.  Rachael, at such a young age, already understands the power of pushing herself to embrace nature, and she is an extraordinary girl.  When I asked Rachael what makes her different from other girls, she grinned and said "I like to challenge myself outdoors".



Then came the first presentation, by Bill Thompson.  In case there is any doubt, it really was accompanied by the best music out there!  After slides of previous years' Ice Fest antics, Bill gave an overview of the weekend and with great excitement, announced the release of the Third Edition of An Ice Climber's Guide to Munising, Michigan, which he co-wrote with Jon Jugenheimer.  This beautiful and informative guide is a far cry from the First Edition, which was typed on a single piece of paper by Mark Reisch in November 1990.  The guide is not only invaluable to ice climbers, but anyone interested in exploring Pictured Rocks National Park should purchase one here.

Bill also announced, with great enthusiasm, that the Michigan Ice Fest has grown to be an INTERNATIONAL event!  He called out to climbers in the room from France, Italy, Australia, England, and Iran.  Yes, Iran. There were Canadians there, too, but Bill doesn't count those people as foreigners, since the U.P. and Canada are essentially the same place.

Ben Erdmann
Courtesy www.downwindsports.com

Then Bill introduced Ben Erdmann.  I had no idea who he is, or what to expect, but as soon as I heard he lives in Alaska, my ears perked up.  Alaska is the dream, the top item on the tick list.  For those of you who aren't in the know, as I now am, the tick list is a list of places you've been to that were on your list of places to go, or more specifically, climbs you've accomplished.  Once you complete a certain climb, you tick it on your list.

Denali
Courtesy Google Images

I am planning a trip to hike in the wilds of Alaska four years from now.  When Ben Erdmann showed a slide of his home in Alaska, my heart swelled with longing.  He lives in my dream home, a tiny stone cabin that "would fit in most people's living room", surrounded by woods in the middle of nowhere.

Courtesy Google Images

Ben introduced himself as a native of Marquette, Michigan who now lives in Alaska, working for a conservation organization inspecting the BP Oil Pipeline.  He works in between climbing expeditions, but his job consists of hanging on the ropes over the massive pipeline, so whether he's working or climbing, he's on belay and loving it!  Ben gave a great presentation about his many climbing adventures, and spoke of his one true unrequited love with bush pilots.  Ben thinks bush pilots are the greatest people on the face of the earth, and whenever he can save enough cash, he reignites his passion for them.  Apparently, being flown in to base camp beats hiking in every time.

Courtesy Google Images

Climbing is dependent on the weather, especially on the bigger mountains in remote regions of the world.  Ben told tales of waiting for days in the village of the Patagonia Andes, checking weather charts daily waiting to climb Fitz Roy.  In Ben's words, it's not like the Weather Channel, where a picture of a smiling sun tells you it's a go; the climbers check all sources of weather related charts and must interpret them.  When the window opens up, the rush begins to pack everything up and head out.

Courtesy Google Images

Patagonia experiences very strong winds from the North and West, carried off the Pacific Ocean.  These winds create winter conditions in the western Andes year-round.  Predicting the window of weather suitable for climbing to the summit is tricky business.  Often, a climbing team begins an ascent, only to be forced to bivi up for several days under harsh weather conditions before continuing.

Listening to Ben's stories, I heard many people in the room mutter "that's crazy!"  But later, when I asked Ben what makes him different, why does he live this way, he replied he doesn't know.  He said he's just always known he wanted to do this.  Is he crazy?  No, because all climbers try to take every precaution before and during a climb.  They gather the beta, they analyze, they make informed decisions.  There is risk; but there is also skill, and knowledge, and respect for the conditions.

By the time I went to bed Thursday night, I did not have a clear answer to my question.  What makes climbers different?  I had a feeling, but could not put words to it.  All I knew at that point was, I was part of something very special, and I couldn't wait for tomorrow!

Storm Approaching, Mount Fitz Roy, Patagonia
Courtesy www.flickr.com