Mountain bikes, road bikes, 4×4′s, Razrs, dune buggies, rock crawlers, street motorcycles, dirt bikes, climbing gear, golf clubs, airplanes, paragliders, rafts – what good is a men’s trip to Moab Utah other than an excuse for guys to pull out all the toys and go play? – we have seen it all. While the toys are great, the best part is honestly the time forging friendships both new and old in the inhospitable environment of the Utah desert. Job 24:5 says “like wild asses in the desert go they forth” which for the purposes of good humor has become the motto of the trip. Having a few pastors in attendance allows for some good teaching around the evening fire and tends to give us some credibility as well as some thoughts to reflect on as we then go forth into the desert the next day.

I have said before the value of sports is in the values sports instills in us. This statement was never truer than while on an epic 30 mile mountain bike ride and linkup of multiple trails. With my friends Dave Baker (a former D-1 hockey standout) and Gil McCormick (GM of Wheat Ridge cycler, former racer, and alpine hard man) I headed out well prepared with lots of snacks and water for a ride that we knew, due to the terrain, would take possibly more than six hours.
Navigating the winding canyons, over the slickrock, through sand, perching on precipices we rode under the hot sun continually seeking the best route and trusting in our one-eyed leader Gil (Gil lost sight in one eye while climbing a new route on Pumori in the Himalayas years ago). In this landscape getting hurt, lost, having weak or unprepared partners can be unforgiving, even so I never felt that way due to the fact that I was riding with guys I knew and trusted. I was having the best ride of the year because I wasn’t worried, felt prepared and in control. How often in our daily lives do we get to experience this kind of trust – trust made up of reliance and confidence that releases us from fear and worry. Sports – wether they are extreme or mainstream provide a venue to develop this kind of trust.

Francois de Salignac de la Mothe Fenelon said this about trust in _The Seeking Heart_ “here is a way to know if you’ve actually trusted God with something – you will not think about the matter any longer, nor will you feel a lack of peace.” how great it is to know this trust, as well as a deep trust in the people you have surrounded yourself with. After the ride Gil said this “Seems you can hang out in lost and stressful situations, tired and worn out, and still have a sense of humor. Testimony to your extreme endurance and patience with the blind and half blind.” I took it as mere flattery and could easily say the same of my friends, but because of who they are things never felt desperate or out of control, just some guys doing a long ride in the middle of nowhere. I’m thankful for sports for the friends that come with them and for the values they teach as they wear us out but not down.

Firehouse West 5-3-12

On a cold day in December, as the ice climbing season here in Vail was getting underway, I had gone up to “Firehouse West” for a day of guide training with Apex Mountain School. The approach to the climb is long but at least it’s steep.  The thick underbrush of summer is laid flat by all of the snow as well as the big boots of climbers that tromp up this slope with their heavy packs.
It is wise to dress light for the 35 minute slog up, and then as the sweat dries add layers at the base of the ice climb changing gloves as well before starting up the technical climb.
It was later on this day that I realized that somewhere along the way I had lost my wedding ring (my second and more expensive wedding ring made of white gold) inscribed with Romans 15:5-6. I was upset and I knew my wife Amy would be even more disappointed. So a couple of days later, armed with a metal detector from Radio Shack, I made the slog back up to find the ring. No such luck – the ice had formed 2 feet thicker over the place where I had changed my gloves and with all the action this place had seen, I knew there was no chance but to wait for the spring thaw.
I pray everyday, and this morning as I set off to Firehouse intent on finding my lost ring 6 months later, I said a prayer that I might find this ring. The grass was starting to grow, the thornbushes that normally lie covered under the snow were devouring my shins as the willow and aspen branches taunted me with every loose and or muddy step. Finally as I arrived at the climb’s base I saw what still looked to be a climbable pillar of ice touching down on a frozen platform that covered, even now, the place where my ring had likely slipped off of my finger. Completely crushed and in disbelief the thought of coming back to a raging waterfall in one more month flushed away any hope of finding the ring. I had come up full of hope and without a metal detector knowing what God can do, but now I thought He just chose not to do it. “Hopeless!” I exclaimed. I had given up.

The Trail - ring is between log & stick

Turning, taking two more steps, looking down the slope right in the middle of the wintertime trail, sitting above all the choss and debris, sat a round treasure. “My ring! Thank you God! Thank you God!” I literally shouted it out with joy.

So on this national day of prayer I want you to be encouraged, just as I am, that God does hear us and is even interested in the seemingly small things. So wether obstacles seem insurmountable, or just too small to offer up to a big God, this event today reminds me that just as I share concerns big and small with my spouse, I too should be mindful to share every concern of my daily life with my God.  Jesus gives us these words to give us exactly this hope and understanding:
Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care. (Matthew 10:29 NIV)

Romans 15:5,6

At the time it felt like the greatest moment in Everest’s history perhaps because it was one of the greatest moments in the lives of those of us who made up this incredible team.

Photo from Shutterstock by Daniel Prudek

Reading this recent article in Outside magazine  ( http://ow.ly/axdBS ) caused me to pause, reflect and again consider the accomplishment.  I am incredibly proud to have been a part of this historic climb and to be a member of a team that only saw the possibilities in a sea of doubt and criticism.  Though the article makes no mention of a team, my blind friend Erik knows very well that this climb for any one of us would not have happened without the other.  In many ways it is hard to believe that we actually did this and now to see that years later the first blind ascent of Everest still stands as one of the top five moments is a compliment not only to the feat but also to the people like Erik and Pasquale Scaturro who dared to cast a vision and believe in achieving the “impossible.”

Life is terminal.  In my daily routine, getting caught up in the busyness of things, I often forget this fact and think that life will just keep on going.  However, there will come a time when we will all have to face this reality, some sooner than later, sudden, and unexpected and for some after a very long life.  The question then is not if we will face it but rather how.  Will we face it gracefully knowing our lives had purpose and that our soul moves on?  Or will it be with pain, anger, bitterness and fear of the unknown and of a life not fully lived, not fully given?

Recently my family had the opportunity to spend some time with a man who is wrestling with terminal brain cancer named Tom Driscoll.  About a year ago Tom was diagnosed and given weeks to live.  After multiple surgeries and a new home called hospice, Tom continues on getting the most out of each day by giving to others each day with a positive attitude and a joy for living.  The hat on his head covers the evidence of cancer much of the time, but Tom is not afraid to go without and show his now misshapen head and the damage this disease has caused.

The damage is to his brain but has not affected his heart, his spirit, or his will and that is because he knows that the worst kind of cancer is the kind that devours the soul.  Tom doesn’t just attend church, sneak into the back row while bitterly praying to God “Why me?!”  He gets up front, stands tall, and sings praises to God as a member of the choir.  In spite of the fact that he may not see the transformation of another season, he is a man at peace because he knows the true transformation has already taken place inside of him.  He knows his savior, he knows Jesus, therefore he has peace even though his today will soon pass.

Tom gave my family a gift.  A reminder to live each day positively, with purpose, faith, hope and love.  To be strong and courageous, not given to fear.
Should you take the opportunity to go and meet someone like Tom, be ready to be infected, not by a disease, but by a power that can transform the fear of death and the unknown
into acceptance by faith of those things unseen.

Suggested by a few friends, I recently read a best-seller called Deep Survival a book on what it takes to be a survivor.  Well researched and well written Luarence Gonzales does a great job of giving the reader stories and practical advice on surviving life’s most difficult situations, hardships, problems, pains or whatever you might prefer to call them – hard times that require a lot of an individual or group.  Deep Survival gets into some very “heady” psychology which at times I breezed over because I was really looking for the practical aspects of survival that I knew were in this book.  I thought that should I find myself in need, I would not be reflecting on the anatomy of my brain to get me through a situation.  Would I recommend this book?  Yes, especially if you have never had to employ a survivor mentality in your life.  I would also recommend this book to those who are leaders as well as to those who teach outdoor skills or lead trips into the wilderness.  Not a handbook by any means, this book does offer big picture advice with very diverse application.  If I were to sum it up this book said to me (and these are my own words):

If you are going to do something “stupid” be smart about it.

By that I mean, if you are going climbing for example, play by the rules.  Tell others where you are going, climb with an experienced partner, bring the proper gear, build up your experience before taking on big routes etc.  You get the picture.

As far as what the book tells us, all of his stories, research and advice come together in summary to offer this practical help:

Perceive, Believe, then Act
Avoid impulsive behavior dont hurry
Know your stuff
Get the Information
Commune with the dead – that is to say know how people die doing what it is you are about to do.
Be humble
When in Doubt bail out – (Keep a PMA positive mental attitude) – dont blame others
Stay calm, maintain a sense of humor
Think, analyze, Plan
Take correct decisive action
Celebrate success
Count your blessings
Play, sing, count – occupy the mind
See the beauty around you
Believe you will succeed
Surrender the fear not to fear
Do whatever is necessary

I have employed all of those tips wether it be changing diapers, or responding to multi-party life-threatening injuries on the side of a mountain and found that in my experience Gonzales is right on.  Staying calm, cool and collected while engaging one’s brain is the key to survival.  Though this book is very secular in nature he did briefly touch on the fact that those who have a high degree of faith tend to have a higher survival rate.  Speaking personally here I have to say that faith in God, his plan, and divine purpose must not be overlooked.  I have no other explanation for the fact that the authors own Grandfather fell from 30,000 feet in the sky in a shot up, torn apart bomber that killed the entire crew except him.  No survivor training will help in this case.  Call it luck, divine intervention, a miracle or whatever you like, but this tells me of a plan the Lord has for all of us that goes beyond our own survival or understanding.

Getting up at midnight this time was easy and made even easier as we looked outside to see clear skies and no wind. The temperature was pleasant, and as we headed into the dining room we were greeted by a few eager parties that were on their way to the summit. Breakfast was quick and warm, the gear had been packed the day before, batteries in our headlamps were fresh and after slugging down some coffee, a visit to the baño, we were on our way. Time: 1:15 a.m.

For the first time we could see the lights of Quito (2,000,000 people) in the distance below. Reaching the snow in minutes we also realized the with the moon shining brightly upon us, there would be no need for headlamps. John would keep his on and mine would be used intermittently as needed in the crevassed terrain, but the night was one of those rare beautiful gifts that we sometimes receive in the mountains. This was special.
Within the first hour we had already passed a couple of parties, John and Freddy were climbing strong and steady. We roped up as we hit the glacier and like a slow freighter moving by icebergs in the North-Atlantic at night, we moved past large blocks of ice the size of houses almost unseen.
One step at a time crampons crunching on snow and ice, the rhythmic pace becoming the focus taking ones mind away from the burning lungs and lightheadedness. As a team we moved in sync together doing very well especially considering this was only John’s second time on a rope. As we got higher, so did the sun and soon we were basking in the deep blue of a new dawn. The shadow of Cotopaxi could be seen stretching out into the distance pointing towards another volcano and the equator. Weaving around a few crevasses more and a couple of steep sections of snow and ice we then finally hit the cauliflower wind blown rime of the summit cone. Gorgeous!

19,348 feet high at 6:50 in the morning – what a feeling. John did a super job and after 15 minutes or so on top we were headed back down. The trip off of the mountain only took two hours and we made it just as the snow was softening and the clouds returning. Truly a perfect and flawless summit day. This one was dedicated to our buddy Mark who was now recovering from HAPE back in Quito.

This day began just after the sun went down. Sleeping in a bunk room is never easy let alone at altitude. Once I did finally doze off I was awakened by a familiar sounding cough next to me. It was Mark Skinner and I knew immediately by the sound of his cough that something was wrong. Something beyond a cold or respiratory infection. I have had this myself in the past and I knew that he was in the beginning stages of HAPE high altitude pulmonary edema. The first small cough was at around midnight, by two a.m. it was becoming more persistent, and by 4 a.m. I had him propped up, taking meds, and was beginning the process of packing his things along with the help of John Jaran, the other member of our team. I assured him he would be OK.  I then asked him if it would be OK if I said a prayer for him – we all bowed our heads and asked for the Lord’s help.  By first light we would work our way down to a lower elevation as that is the only true cure for this potentially deadly illness.

As dawn slowly crept upon us I went to awaken the hut keeper, who I knew had a phone that could receive a signal since mine would not. In the wind and the rain we walked out to a distant ridge to get service and called Jaime from Alpenglow. Thankfully Jaime answered and quickly began to drive to the park to meet us.

John was a big help and moral support to Mark who had come on this trip at John’s invitation. We were on a bit of an aggressive schedule for acclimatizing, but not unreasonable. There were in fact a lot of others who were doing the climb in even less time and with less experience. Even when climbing slowly altitude can be tricky and an unknown quantity, but nevertheless – climbing slow and sleeping low is the formula for the best way to go.

I took Mark’s pack, John took a pack with just the things we would need to stay safe and warm given the weather and potentially long walk down, and the three of us hit the road. Mark stayed calm as did John, and the three of us made our way down the mountain. By the time we hit 13,000 feet it was evident that Mark was starting to feel better and by the time we met Jaime, Shelly, and the Landcruiser and got down to a warm cafe at 10,000 feet Mark was back to his old self. We were very thankful to have a friend and local connection as the park service really has very limited abilities and rescue resources – such as not even a car or radio to offer any help.

With the puffiness in Mark’s face going down, his lungs clearing out, and his health returning he encouraged us to go back to the mountain and try for the summit. John and I did just as he wished. We headed back to the hut and hoped for clear weather on this night which would be our summit night. The night that we layed awake multiple parties tried for the summit only to be turned back by high winds and whiteout conditions. We honestly were just glad that Mark was well and making a speedy recovery – our summit now would be as much for him as it would be for us.

Clouds look puffy, clean and sweet, but when you get up into them they are really ugly swirling masses of moisture and at 16,000 feet are not very warm. After arriving at the Jose Rivas hut much of our time would be spent inside due to the fact that the moment one would step outside, though it was not raining, one would become coated in a glaze of heavy moisture.

More waiting. As we waited for the skies to give us a break so we could get outside, move about and practice some climbing techniques we saw the, unexpected to me, steady stream of tourists including young children plodding their way up to the hut. I thought “no way, how can this be? This is a climber’s hut for rugged guys like us, what is that five year old doing up here sipping a hot coco?” The climb really only begins above the hut and for many reaching this lofty destination in the park is a big attraction even if it does bring on nausea, headaches, a sour mood and worst of all HAFE (High Altitude Flatulant Expulsion).

The weather cleared just long enough for us to be suckered into getting outside to climb around a bit and stretch the legs. As we reached the snow it shut back down and out came the Gore-Tex once again. Back at the hut we met Jaime – climber, guide, and owner of Alpenglow tours. Jaime had made all the arrangements for us and also works for guide companies like RMI to set up their trips as well. We learned of his upcoming climb on Everest and had a good time getting to know him and his new girlfriend from the US named Shelly. As the day went on we relaxed, read, tied knots, and organized for the climb. The mood was a bit damp but we remained hopeful that things would clear.

The Landcruiser pulled up in front of the hotel and a local guide Fredy Tipan hopped out to load us up and drive us to the national park. Fredy unmistakably had the look of a guy hardened in the mountains and a calm demeanor as well. As we arrived the winds were howling, the clouds were low and we were getting wet. Immediately the Gore-tex went pack on for the short hike up to the hut at 15,700 feet. Once there we would relax and prep for our summit in a couple of days.

After a large breakfast at the hotel we headed out via taxi to a tram on the edge of the city that would take us up to just over 13,000′ on Rucu Pichincha. From the top of the tram a short hike would take us to 15,000′ weather permitting. Lightning and rain turned us back at just over 14,000 feet but the time up high is what we were after more than the summit of this peak. It was interesting to see the mix of people up here as well as the way people dressed for rain – cotton t’s and cotton stretchy pants were the norm making us look out of place in our Gore-tex, but we were comfortable.

We returned to hotel Mercure for a hot shower and then hit the town for dinner. In the Plaza de San Francisco we had some empanadas mixed with some other local fare all set in this picturesque historic district. Tomorrow we head for Cotopaxi.

Tram Ride

Mark Skinner Clearing Customs