changes a-brewin'

Where to begin? These last couple of weeks have been a flurry of new things, and that's besides the usual hubbub of being a grad student! I can't tell you how many times I've jotted down a blog idea that I wanted to work through but when the day finally slowed down enough for me to sit at the computer I could hardly keep my eyes open!

Lots of new things have been taking place in my life, some personal and some less personal. I got a new job, which I'm terribly excited about. I'm still going to be transitioning into it for a couple months yet, and I'm a little nervous because it'll be replacing my main job that I've been at for nearly four years. I'll be sure to tell more as I know more, and probably even spotlight the facility in a future post...

Which brings me to my next order of business...I'm moving on over to Zherpa blogs to be part of their network, which means you won't see much here. I'm still going to keep this blog, and occasionally post more family/close-friend oriented blogs, but I will primarily be over at Zherpa henceforth. So, if you follow me, be sure to change up your links! Click here to be directly taken to that page. There is still some formatting to be done in the next couple days, so be patient...:) The transition is still a work in progress, but I promise to get on it.

Have been jumping quite a bit lately, even went up to Lodi for a few jumps, which was neat! This past weekend I hit 25 jumps, which is my first real milestone and with a few more objectives to knock out I can apply for my A license!

That about covers it...I hope you all have a wonderful week and a fun Halloween. Any really creative costumes planned?

sometimes you get what you came for

My life seems to be least stressful not when I don't have things going on, but when I can organize what I do have going on into lists. I make lists on a daily basis. Sometimes I number the tasks, or I assign times or make lists within lists. If I'm worried, I list. If I'm bored, I list. I have been making packing lists since elementary school--for such things as sleepovers and trips to Grandma's house. I'm sure this indicates some kind of pathology, but for now let's just consider it a charming quirk.

So this alleged charming quirk came into play once again when packing for a trip up to Yosemite with a class from my university. As a class, we split into teams, and our objective for the weekend was to complete a digital scavenger hunt throughout the park. I had one teammate, Chelsea, and we decided our team uniform would be tie dyed t-shirts. I managed to save this little arts and crafts project for 2 a.m. the night before we left for the trip, nevermind that it was my first tie dye project to date. I was relatively pleased with the results, however, despite the fact that they didn't turn out exactly how I expected.

After a day at work that was sorely tainted with the knowledge that comes from being tortured by the awareness that your car is completely packed for an adventure, I picked Chelsea up at her apartment and we set off to meet our cabinmates at the supermarket. I informed her that unless she flat-out objected, we would be listening to at least three episodes of the Dirtbag Diaries on the way up to camp. Luckily, she obliged.

The ride up was uneventful if not boring, save for Fitz (@dirtbagdiaries) and his colleagues to every once in a while leave both Chelsea and me with goosebumps. There are some things that resonate deeply and unexpectedly, and I was glad to get to share that with Chelsea as well.

We arrived at Curry a little early, so we camped on the deck outside the Mountain Shop for a spell, where I notified Pang (@pangtastic) that we had arrived. He and I had tentatively planned to meet up because, well...why not? Twitter friends should be real friends too. Once he came over and Chelsea and our cabinmates realized I was going to park myself on the deck and talk climbing for a while, they went to grab a pizza for dinner.

After talking with Pang, I most certainly have a stronger interest in learning to ice climb. It's not something I have ever really aspired to learn, but the more I read about it and talk about it, the more I think “that could perhaps be on my radar sometime...it sounds promisingly miserable--right up my alley”. I have learned that I am much happier when bruised, cold, tired, and covered in camp dirt.

Eventually, we unpacked and our instructor came around to the (blech) tent cabins to give us our lists and mascots. Chelsea and I selected a small plastic lion we named Excelsior Lionel, and what a photogenic plastic feline he turned out to be. Our ambitious cabinmates decided to set out on a nighttime hike to the summit of Half Dome. We determined that wasn't for us this trip and instead donned our “uniforms” and removed our shoes for our own leg of the hunt. For whatever reason, we thought it would be a fun idea to do the whole scavenger hunt barefoot. Probably my idea, to be perfectly honest.

So, barefoot and clad in tie dye, plastic lion in tow, we managed to check a fair amount off our list. We visited the cemetery (at night!) and the post office and the dental office. The highlight of the evening was our high-speed gallivant through the Awahnee, where we surprisingly didn't get in trouble with any of the employees for our blatant disregard of socially acceptable ambulation speeds.

By now, spirits were riding high and we were just about convinced jumping in the Merced River in the dead of night was a good idea. All of the excitement and adrenaline came to a screeching halt when we accidentally took a wrong turn. Instead of turning into the proper entrance to the Camp 4 parking lot, I pulled in too early into a clearing. Realizing my mistake, I promptly pulled out, only to be met with flashing red and blue lights.

Now, despite what you may believe about me, I am absolutely terrified of getting in trouble. I have a knack for being in the wrong place in the wrong time, though, and have no talent whatsoever for arguing my way out of a ticket. I have never once been able to successfully do so. Apparently being cooperative and scared out of your mind does not incite police officers to be merciful.

So I got a citation. In a national park. For offroad traveling. I DRIVE A CIVIC. Talk about a buzzkill. Chelsea and I had no desire to keep on going that night, so we went back to the tent cabin to plan out the next day's agenda.

After only a few hours of sleep, the alarm I had set for 4 a.m. woke us and we groggily assembled our wits for the 45 minute drive up to Glacier point to see the sun rise. It was kind of cold, especially in bare feet and sweatpants, and I'm pretty sure the other early risers only had a moderate appreciation for my obnoxious sense of humor at that hour of the morning, judging by their responses to my probably-too-loud comments and observations.

It was pretty incredible to see the Valley transform as the sun rose behind Half Dome. Perhaps my favorite part of any day, especially a day outdoors, is the twilight just before the actual sunrise. It's so full of potential and anticipation, but in a way that I can count on. Each new day brings that new potential with each sunrise. It's anticipation, but with structure. I like that.

Despite rising early, our day didn't really kick off until about lunchtime. Once the sun rose, we drove on back down to camp for breakfast and coffee (which I require daily without excuse) and an evaluation of the day's plans, with an itemized to-do list so we could check off specific objectives. The day turned into mostly a series of silly faces and interesting conversations. Luckily, neither Chelsea nor I had any qualms about approaching strangers, and given the global appeal of the Yosemite Valley, there's quite a diverse population of strangers to choose from.

My “favorite experience of the day” is a toss-up between getting one move higher on Midnight Lightning (which is going to take me about a decade to send, seeing as I'm no V8 climber) and jumping into the (very cold!) Merced River in my jeans. By the end of the day, though, Chelsea and I were happily tired, and headed back to camp an hour early, where we met up with our instructor and his wife to shoot the breeze and eat some dinner.

Dinner turned into a marathon gab session as a few friends of mine stopped by our table throughout the evening. While we were sitting there, we found out that one of our class teams was still on Half Dome. This wouldn't have been a big deal, except for that they had begun the hike about 20 hours prior, had an injured/severely dehydrated team member, and were more than five miles from the trailhead. Quite a disaster. Our instructor left immediately as soon as he realized they would need some assistance getting down the trail. He made it up to them and managed a couple updates here and there when they got cellular service. Ultimately, they didn't get to the trailhead until approximately 24 hours after they had started their hike.

There is value in knowing your limits and preparing for achieving an objective. There is also value in testing those limits. If I was in a similar situation, when would I have quit? When would I have turned back and for what reason? If I was capable but a teammate wasn't, how would I have proceeded? Would I have been a leader, and if I was, would I have been a good one? While I was not immediately connected with this particular situation, it most certainly resonated with me. Thankfully, everyone made it down to camp okay, and in remarkably good spirits considering their ordeal.

The next morning, we slept in, which meant that we had to rush to pack up to make it to the Mariposa Grove by our 10 a.m. appointment. Chelsea and I had a hard time getting ourselves together and arrived about 30 minutes late. Thankfully, because of the excitement of the night before, we weren't the last to arrive nor did anyone mind that we were late.

Those trees are so...big. Looking at the sequoias in the grove, perceiving their mass and presence--you can't help but wish they could speak and tell their stories. Who has been there? What secrets have been told among those trees? When all the people have left, what remains--what sounds, what smells, what thoughts? It's places like that where I feel present, when I am at a definite point in the universe, where before collides with after.

I made it home in time for one quick jump at my dropzone, which seems to be how it goes these days. I'm too busy to come out for a whole day, so I end up squeezing in a jump or two on an afternoon when I should have been studying instead. But being at the dropzone and being part of that activity and that pace helps to make the rest of it--the massively busy balance of classes and work and home life--a little easier. There's nothing like 10,500 feet of perspective to help the rest of it all make sense.

not fearless

“...being brave doesnt mean you're not afraid--it means overcoming your fear. I have learned that I want to live until I die.”

Fittingly enough, the above quote was the last line in an article in a skydiving magazine, but it articulates a sentiment that I can appreciate. There have been many times I've been absolutely frightened beyond what I thought I could handle, but just as many times I've gotten to experience the growth that comes with making a decision about that fear. I remember hiking the Mist Trail to Vernal Falls as a kid and having to deal with some serious fear--it was all I could do to put one foot in front of the other. One. Step. At. A. Time. Same thing the first time I did the cables on Half Dome (and second time, because apparently I like that sort of thing). Many moments while climbing--usually when I pause, or at an anchor--I have suddenly felt aware of my fear and had to choose to act despite being afraid.

And it's not some high I'm chasing. I experience no flood of overwhelming emotion when I reach an objective. I am glad when I reach my goals, but I appreciate the process as well. For this reason, I find that I rarely cry at what are supposed to be monumental events, like graduations and weddings. I've had time to consider the implications of failure and success and decide how I would like to respond.

On Sunday, I was frightened. I was inexplicably nervous the entire day I was at the dropzone. I am perhaps most fearful at takeoff, because it is the moment of commitment. Once that plane is in the air, I have a very finite amount of time to mentally prepare for the skydive. I always review the process of the jump, from exit to landing, multiple times until I can see myself doing it completely--much like sending a difficult bouldering problem. When I realize my body is tense, I have to take a deep breath and exhale all the nervous energy.

Skydiving for me has become very much a process of evaluating the possible outcomes of a decision and accepting any of those outcomes. If I'm doing a formation jump, we might not complete the formation. If I'm trying a new skill, I might not be able to do it right away. If my parachute malfunctions, I may have to deploy my reserve. If I don't flare correctly when landing my canopy, I might have a hard landing. And then there's the always the possibility of factors I don't anticipate, like a midair collision or a strange wind or a double malfunction (neither parachute does its job), any of which could seriously injure or kill me or another person. How do you wrap your head around being okay with those outcomes? Any of them?

I'm not fearless. I don't claim to have fear all figured out. But I'm glad it's there. Fear forces me to make decisions and to learn from their consequences. Frankly, I'm afraid of a lot, and on a daily basis. But I can't let that fear incapacitate me. I can't be so afraid to fail that I don't try. And learning to apply that principle to other aspects of my life--relationships, career goals--is a challenge I'd like to accept.

live it anyway

I'm in a kayak. I'm not really sure exactly how this reference started, but it caught on some months ago with the climbing crew--especially the girls--I hang with. I'm sure that our Monday night pub excursions (complete with doorjamp pullup contests/initiations) definitely helped it along, as they became a place for us to defrag after a climbing session and as we learned to let our guards down with each other we learned to make light of our respective relationship statuses. We came up with an elaborate framework of boat-related references to describe all means of relationship status that still holds water (er, pardon the bad pun) to this day. A kayak, by our definition, indicates that the individual is happily single and on the prowl, but not for a significant other...but for adventure. And so I happily reside in my kayak these days.

In fact, I'd say I'm pretty darn happy most days. Which is why an occasional down day or series of down days can catch me by surprise and send me thinking. I'm more often inexorably happy than not. When I'm not...why is that?

Well, there's the idea that every action has an equal and opposite reaction...or something like that. Which means that when I am up in the stratosphere, excited as all-get-out, there is usually an equal and opposite downturn within a few days that sends me reeling and scrambling to self-medicate with more climbing and probably way too much coffee, and even sometimes solitude.

I've been pursuing all of these things in the last several months that I enjoy very much. I have been able to focus a lot of energy on climbing harder and better and learning to skydive, and I love having the mental and emotional freedom to do those things. It would be hard for me (I say for me, because others might find it easier than I do) to hasten after these pursuits were I not in my kayak, so to speak. And so, I'd venture to say that I've had the opportunity to learn a lot about myself lately.

I learned to say no. I've never been good at saying no, and now the conflict lies not in my ability to say it, but in my ability to not be agitated when I decide to say it. It took me having the opportunity to chase after goals that were uniquely and solely mine and recognizing that to give me a different perspective. I still struggle with “no” every time, but I have a sense of ownership of that decision that I didn't perceive before.

Infused with the cluelessness and persistent optimism of being a 20-something, still perhaps shedding some of the trappings of adolescence, there's a good deal of uncertainty that seems to linger on the periphery. That said, if nothing else, I've learned in the last several years that nothing is certain and that many of the expectations that I held for myself just a few years ago are mostly irrelevant. There's something to be said for figuring out how to hold dreams and then chase them with your whole heart. And no one really teaches you how to do that. One of the things I LOVE about being a counseling student is that my classes are full of people who refuse to stop dreaming...it's contagious.

I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up except a dreamer and doer. And since those aren't really all that tangible, I think it best to take it all one day at a time, living fully. And that means that some days I'll feel all full of vim and vigor (and maybe even a little “rawr”) and others I might need to spend some time on the downswing. I'm gonna have to be okay with that, and live it anyway.

The very basic core of a man's living spirit is his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun. -Christopher McCandless

it's all about perspective

I've been meaning to blog since Sunday, but every time I sit down to do it the things I thought I wanted to write down just don't seem to form themselves into cohesive utterances. So...I think I'm just gonna roll with that and go a little more freeform on this one. How 'bout it?

Things I Like:

-riding bikes with friends
-having one of those moments where you just feel ALIVE
-freefall
-how Tiger Balm smells kinda like Christmas
-going to the movies by myself twice in a week
-seeing the people around me smile
-much-needed climbing crew reunions at the pub
-how pumped I get for school once classes actually start
-quesadillas
-diet dr. pepper with Sonic ice
-random texting with the bff from college
-birthday minutes
-planning trips to visit friends near and far
-being the kind of person who can get completely engrossed in a movie
-being the kind of person who can barely sit still
-lollipops
-spaghettios
-my favorite Tweeps, who constantly brighten my day
-having shower days and non-shower days
-being barefoot as much as possible
-my ceiling fan
-hanging out with kids
-random dance spazzout sessions at the climbing gym
-climbing!
-talking to my grandma on the phone
-talking to anyone in my family on the phone
-thinking about my amazing little sister
-talking about my amazing little sister
-my amazing little sister

I think that's a good start. For now at least! :)

notes from the backcountry

It all started with a delicious pepperoni pizza. Now, the first time I hiked Half Dome, I indulged without incident in eating pizza & a pint pre-hike, so I thought this would be fine, especially considering that this hike in was only 3 miles and 3 fairly flat miles at that.

Wrong wrong wrong. Nothing about that tasty pizza settled and I spent the first two miles of the hike convinced my appendix was going to burst at any minute. We're not talking some nausea here. I quite literally almost cried with how much it hurt. (Not that I would cry. I don't cry. I make Chuck Norris cry.) Finally, it got a little better and my countenance shifted back to normal, which is really more like “excited puppy” and tends to freak a lot of people out.

Arriving at camp was fairly anticlimactic. We set up camp without incident and shortly therafter broke out our camp dishes for some grubbin'. Everyone stayed pretty close to camp and we got a good fire going in our pit. There was what I consider unnecessary haste in bear bagging our foodstuffs, but I'm not the boss. I went over to watch the bear bagging occur so that I could reverse the process in the morning as I am an early riser at camp. (Why this is not also true back home I don't know. Though I wish it were.) Before I knew it, I was the one rigging the bear bag, utilizing a couple of my favorite climbing knots to rig it up, much to the surprise of my male campmates.

We then returned to the campfire for more chatter with the neighboring campers. The conversation lasted until the fire died down to ember, and then we parted ways towards our respective sleeping arrangements.

As expected, I woke up absurdly early, forcing my body to sleep until at least 7. I won that battle, but just barely. I happily navigated down to water's edge to filter some breakfast water, then brewed myself some delicious coffee with my oatmeal. The only problem with this situation is that by the time everyone else is finally crawling out of their tents, I am fully caffeinated & probably singing nonsense songs. Not exactly the best way to make friends in the morning.

All things considered, the morning was quiet and lazy, as a Saturday morning should be. We didn't do much of anything until a group decided to head to the caves for a little bit of exploration. I stayed back, enjoying the rarity of a quiet camp. While the rest of the crew was gone, more of our party arrived on site & started setting up camp.

When everyone got back from 'sploring the caves, we donned our swimsuits for what was supposed to be a refreshing turn in the lake. Most everyone got in and some went fishing instead. I decided to give the cliff jumping a go. It is NOT fair that I am not allowed to be a little skittish about dropping 30 feet into water off a veritable cliff. “Why are you scared? You jump out of planes!” is not my favorite thing to hear as I'm trying to muster the cajones to hurl myself off said rock into said (cold) lake.

Nevertheless, I finally took the plunge and that was that. Once was enough, though. I scrambled back up the granite boulders to our campsite and promptly fell asleep on the rock behind our tent. After my little nap, I changed out of my wet swimsuit and into my climbing shoes, which had arrived just hours prior thanks to A, who had also hiked in my MadPad. We assembled a small group of would-be climbers to explore the boulders near camp, which mostly consisted of the dads and their kids and me. I inadvertently inserted the word “sketchball” into the vocabularies of the three kids (ages 9, 8, & 7) during our little climbing excursion. We didn't do anything super crazy, but definitely found a few fun problems to pump out on.

Everyone started trickling back towards camp as dinnertime loomed, and eventually we all found ourselves back at the campfire, hungry and tired and dirty. A discussion ensued over the superiority of certain freeze-dried meals over others, and I've decided that I'd rather have a pocketrocket over a jetboil, though both are pretty sassy compared to the Coleman my dad used to bring to camp when we were kids. I ate a dinner almost exclusively consisting of rice, which was slightly disappointing if not filling. You can't always win. And I like rice, so it works, I guess.

Following dinner, we sat around the campfire, stoking it with the sparse logs A was able to gather. I managed at one point during the evening to drop both my hat and headlamp actually IN to the fire, and pulled them out fairly intact save for the horrible burnt plastic smell that still lingers all over the hat. Good thing I had a 2nd one to wear to bed that night. We roasted marshmallows and played with sticks in the fire. I sent smoke signals on over to @theclimbergirl, but she says she didn't get them. So now my campmates think I'm nuts and @theclimbergirl didn't even get my message. Good thing I think she's rad anyways. :) Worth people thinking I'm extra nuts for sure.

Sunday I couldn't sleep past 6:15 and woke up just minutes before the sun peeked over the mountain across the lake. I pulled down the bear bag, enjoyed a quiet breakfast and a lazy morning as the rest of camp slowly rose to meet the day. I enjoyed a lovely conversation with the fellow at the next camp, and as we talked we realized we had attended the same wedding in my hometown back in 2001. Even the backcountry is a small world, I guess! We're now FB friends with plans to backpack again someday.

Come late morning, we started packing up camp for the hike out. I stubbornly volunteered to pack out my MadPad, a situation which required some creative rigging and extremely tentative balancing. It was figured out, though, and I managed to hike the three miles out with only four rest stops.

There was a much-needed pizza stop on the way out, where we washed our dirt-embedded hands in the restroom sink. Everyone else in the restaurant looked so clean! I dozed most of the two hours home, trying not to upset my slightly sunburnt face. Upon arriving home, I first jumped in the pool with the kids, then promptly unpacked, happily wrapping myself in the delicious aroma of camp as I prepared my laundry and sorted my gear and food out.

Now, with everything put away, I'm anxious for the next adventure! If everything goes as planned, I'll have at least one trip each month until November, which would be wonderful, and then next season will be here before we know it.

Love,
Katiebeth: Young Adventurer Extraordinaire (or something like that...)

P.S. I'd appreciate it if the power company would remove whatever cell tower was giving us reception up there. It's not real backcountry if I can Twitter! (and I haven't the willpower not to. I love my Tweeps too much.)

transparency

The theme of transparency seems to be recurring in my life. And each time it pokes its little head out, I seem to learn something new. I can remember the first time I was really aware of the concept was in junior high school. I would get so frustrated with the flippancy with which people would use “how are you?” in conversation, and so I learned to make a point of smiling and making eye contact and asking questions because, well, I knew I liked it when people treated me that way so it made sense. I'm not saying I had this whole thing dialed by any means, but it's the earliest I can recall transparency being something I recognized in relationships.

I usually can read people pretty well, and have always had a hard time with difficult-to-read individuals and feeling comfortable with them. I think this has all to do with my deep-seated desire to be liked and appreciated because if I know how I am being reacted to and understood, I feel more comfortable. I have more control. (I'm really hoping this isn't some kind of pathology I don't know about...) Growing up I strove to achieve because it was the venue through which I received positive feedback. It was a priority for me to be appreciated that way because it was better than the alternative. (Just for the record, I was very much loved as a child and never doubted this.) It seemed like it was easy in our household to get noticed by doing something wrong, so I wanted to do right things.

And that translates kind of strangely through adolescence. It affected my faith in that I developed little patience for hypocrisy and definitely stirred up a tenderheartedness that has gotten me into trouble more than a few times. I've had to learn the hard way how to say no and how to rest, usually at the expense of those closest to me. They see all the ugly, all the times when I'm frustrated and tired and all my buttons have been pushed and I'm so drained I haven't the energy to be helpful to anyone.

So then comes college and with it the joys of self-discovery, identity formation and social networking websites. What a recipe. My undergrad years coincided rather disastrously with the advent of MySpace and Facebook. Not that it was a disaster for me, but that I think these things have contributed to a very unique generation of young adults. We have friends all over the world we've never met, and aren't even aware of the degree to which we manipulate our images via our respective social networking addictions. Now, having friends all over the world isn't all bad. In fact, I love Facebook and Twitter and use them on a regular basis. I love having friends accessible to me pretty much any time of the day.

And that's probably not so good.

It's not my friends' jobs to be available to affirm me or make me feel wanted when I want to feel wanted. It's not their responsibility to be on the other end of the phone always or respond to every text I send. So why in the world do we get so caught up in this delicate construct of relationship that's essentially built on “what I want you to know about me”? And in saying this I'm not arguing for total and complete transparency because that's a safety issue. (I grew up being told I would be murdered by anyone I told my name/age/location/favorite color to. Wait, maybe that last one was a Monty Python thing...anyways...)

And this whole issue resurfaced today in a conversation with a fellow blogger and very dear IRL friend. (Check out her site at www.whatmegmakes.com...her last post was a VERY sweet entry about yours truly that very nearly made me tear up!) She informed me that a blog we both follow was under some fire because of some choices the blogger made in the amount and type of information she chose to share through her blog. There were some lack of truths involved and frankly the whole situation kind of unsettled me. We can be so very interested in the type and amount of attention we receive via our cyberspace communities that we not only distort transparency but we lose the chance to develop it in our real lives.

Because I really shouldn't get upset when Twitter's down. It's a chance for me to focus on the people right in front of me, with no distractions. As much as I care for each and every person within my favorite little Twitter community, that must always be tempered by an even greater focus on the people around me. And an openness to reviewing each thing I say in cyberspace as a tiny fragment of who I am, aware of how I might be inadvertently manipulating how it might be perceived. I need a willingness to be called out, both here and in real life.

So, friends, if I ask nothing else of you, I ask that you never be hesitant to call me out. I want to be transparent through all aspects of communication, from conversation to text to Facebook to Twitter to gchat to good old-fashioned letters. :) For your sake and mine.