|
Climbing
Climbing. We do a lot of that - up and down stairs - up and down step ladders, or rock climbing in a gym or on the real thing, or some sort of incline that forms hills and dales with big rocks often covered in green beauty. Maybe one takes up bouldering needing only a crash pad to cushion falls, climbing shoes to help you stick to the rock, chalk for a good grip - find a partner to belay you, and you can go out and boulder. My favorite has been rock wall climbing in a gym.
 Also, there are always a few challenging type of monster mountains like Denali, or the Grand Tetons, or Kilimanjaro in Tanzania or Japan’s picturesque Mt. Fuji, or Toubkal (13, 671ft) in Morocco, or Colorado’s Pikes Peak (did that in car with my parents), or the Matterhorn straddling Switzerland and Italy, or Pico de Oriaba in Mexico, or Pan de Azucar in Uruguay. So many I have dreamed about but I have become too old and not sufficiently eager to take the challenge. I wish I could recycle as a mountain climber.
Today, there is way too much death in climbing, the majority being Sherpas trying to get commoners, adventurers, wannabe climbers up huge mountains and have lost their lives attending to and saving their clients. More than 300 of the death tolls is the Sherpas. A bad year was 1996 when 12 people died trying to reach the summit of Everest; then in 2012 twelve more died, the worst year of loses, merely because the adventurer was exhausted, climbing too slowly or they ignored the symptoms of altitude sickness and didn’t turn around to go back to base camp. Men and women who want to do the most difficult thing next to rock climbing aim to satisfy their ego by challenging the most dangerous mountains such as Mt. Everest of the Himalayas which I drug myself and climbed to Base Camp at age 68. Another killer climb is K2, second tallest in the world, whose record is that one out of ever 4 climbers to reach the summit lose their life in the process.
An extraordinary challenge has been to tackle the seven summits around the world, which is comprised of the highest mountain on each of our seven continents. There is Denali in Alaska representing North America; Aconcagua in South America, Mount Blanc in Europe, Elbrus in the Middle East, Everest which for Asia, Puncak Jaya in Indonesia, Kosciuszko in Australia, and Vinson in Antarctica. If one really wants a task, there is the holy Mt. Kailash, which is a giant icy dome not to be touched because it is holy but around which pilgrims crawl and walk and climb and even ride desperate looking small ponies at one point until there reach a cross over incline stacked with prayer flags blowing all over the pinnacle of the climb. Then one must slide down a part of the decline. However, the rewards are great. I took on this task. And on completion (3 days of walking or riding skinny ponies) having made the complete circle, as I did, I was pleased my sins had been forgiven and just in case, one can dip their toes in the nearby great holy Lake Manasarovar and then you are really walking in fresh skin and cleansed soul.
Many set out to climb the 7 summits - which means the tallest mountain on each of earth’s continents: My friend and guide Jim Williams, when he was younger, was the first to climb all seven in one year. Now he drags and packs gear for people who want last hurrahs to such mountains including Everest, Kilimanjaro, or Mt. Sinai or Mt. Neru or the Grand Tetons, where young bold people seem to run up and back in time that’s embarrassing when one is huffing and puffing up with a pair of sticks and having to spend the night in a small tent beaten to a pulp by the winds, as one has to get up about 3 a.m. to the get serious about reaching the top.
The main culprit in all climbing is altitude, learning to adapt slowly so one’s lungs won’t explode, and your energy won’t die. Altitude can take your breath away in a second. One time arriving In Ecuador with my daughter we dashed by car to Cotopaxi just to see it - the chauffeur could drive to a certain point, and we jumped out of the car into the cold air and pop - dizziness set in and I could hardly stand up to the wind nor get back to the car I was so woozy. And then we had to go eat lunch nearby. That was just a glimpse to the altitude we were in at the moment.
Some of the best hiking I have been able to do, with a lot of huff and puff, is at a California spa where in their super gym I get on the treadmill and about as stressful as I can get is to turn up the incline of the machine, so I think I’m climbing up and up. But really, we are offered morning hikes up and down hills, mountains, fields of fruit trees or pathways lined with talk dark bamboo, and they help me remember I can still do these things at my age of 82. There is a meditation hike led by the wonderful DJ who teaches Tai Chi, and it is done in silence and with large distances between each climber so one can meditate about their own joys or problems and like all the walks at this spa, it means taking off about 6 a.m. in the pitch dark. Glasses don’t help a bit in the dark of morning as we warm up with the guide and a Sherpa behind.
But once we get loosened up, we tackle the different hills and mountains around the environment of this spa. I grab my stick and, cold as we are starting off, after some warmup exercises, we start the climb. Some days we start low and then start hiking up hill to the highest point turn around on a dirt road where giant grey boulders, smooth as silk, had rolled down the mountain at some ancient time and are still sitting there waiting for maybe another roll as the climate changes. And there are fields or orchards trees of oranges, pomelos, lemons, pomegranate, limes, with coyote appearing here and there and the sky with its dash of white clouds is extreme blue though there is a haze at 6 in the morning that blurs things a bit. But at least we are climbing.
There are two “styles” of climbing I love here, the roadrunner is the title of one, which takes about an hour and a half in the brisk cold morning, and the quail path ( don’t know why these names, but they stay with you), which is big time stepping up and down areas as levels change. That’s my baby, and by the end of the week of climbing one gets to twirl around the pinnacle of the hill for an extra treat that takes you about 20 more minutes and wears out the courage you insist you have. And when one comes down from that part and reconnects with the lower paths, you feel refreshed, having met a challenge, and know better than ever, that there is a God on this earth who is boosting us on one by one to take such challenges by climbing.
Now when I return to Memphis, it’s back to two miles a day in the parking lot of the apartment building. There is no climbing. It’s flat walking on tarmac past the parked cars and scuffling along the leaves continually falling from the trees - when it’s autumn” and the only other option would be a haul across the Mississippi River Bridge or through the beautiful Botanic Gardens where fall is falling all around and trees that have almost died out still have a family member there being preserved with love and care. Now I’ve narrowed down to a walk and there is no climb. But somehow, I have to get my leg muscles lose and good so I can climb the glorious, holy Mount Sinai as we are planning to do in January, God willing.
Walking on the beaches of Uruguay or Delray, walking in sand dunes or green fields of home, walking around a football stadium’s track or something simple just to remind the feet and legs they do have skills that are necessary to keep us “up and at ’em” my dad would say, and in the same sentence, keep us healthy. Serious climbing is hard, and you need to bring water, but whatever exercise one chose to do, use it for conversation, prayer, thanking God for the beauty around us, or just trying to impress someone that you could do a triathlon.
What helps with all of this is my Apple watch which shouts out how many steps I’ve taken that day. In the Southern California spa, I did 6 or 7000 steps before the middle of the day - sigh. But at home, I have to tough it would get 10,000 steps a day - maybe those days when I do both the parking lot and one of the nice two mile tracks in Memphis - the bridge across the Mississippi and the Botanic Gardens.
Walking and talking, dreaming, believing, praying, and listening to the FedEx planes taking off overhead to drown out any music one might carry along, is a good day. But the best time I ever had walking, talking, and climbing was when my daughter Mary and my granddaughter Megan and I walked the Camino a Compostela in Spain, which I’ve mentioned before. There the ups and downs are adventures, not knowing where we were, if not for a yellow shell or arrow painted on the corner of a building or a rock. Happily, I turned on my I-phone to the music app and sang, as loud as my voice would allow, all the songs from a favorite Broadway play The Jersey Boys. Great walking/climbing rhythm.
~ Rev
---------------------------------
audrey@audreytaylorgonzalez.com
www.audreytaylorgonzalez.com
|
