Notions of Grandeur

John Gill said "I don't think I would become a climber if I were young man now [...] What is freedom to a bird if it is in the middle of a flock ?"

Sadly, this sometimes rings true; what a mere mortal climbs has been climbed many times, every year, for a very long time, while often dodging crowds of other climbers. To climb something new requires acts of heroism, or perhaps insanity. It also requires specialization- a dedication to a specific form of climbing, or a willingness to take a route to a conquered mountain that no other person has been willing to take. It is an alpine style mixed route specialist taking on some marginally safe route of falling rocks, avalanche, low quality protection, and scary aid pitches. It requires marathon climbing for days on end. It requires something I doubt I have, and sacrifices I can't make.

Truly, I cannot climb for the sense of freedom, or for the feeling of being somewhere others haven't been many times, or even the rarefied virgin summit; these things do not exist much in the modern age, at least not without the above mentioned qualities, and money to go to distant lands.

So why keep attempting something so minuscule, trite, and pointless as climbing mountains that mean little to most people? Why keep flying in the center of the flock, just a number to be forgotten? Why fill a summit registry that few even will read? Why risk one's life and limb for such things?

I struggle with these thoughts, and I think any climber out there does more or less as well. Some do climb for the process, not the summit, however I do think there has to be a goal within that process. Even sport climbing has a point in which the climb has been reached- the goal.

But I read this:

"One does not climb to attain enlightenment, rather one climbs because he is enlightened." — Zen Master Futomaki.

Perhaps this is wishful thinking; I know some egomaniac climbers who are far from enlightened. However, this makes me smile. I would like to think this is a personal experience, and whether a billion people or not a soul has made it to the summit, only I can take myself to that summit. I am there to learn from the mountains, and to exercise meditation.

What little I understand of Zen, I do like, and it certainly seems to apply to mountaineering. Zen practice emphasizes less of teachings, and more of mindfulness throughout the day, especially through work. I think there is no time I have worked longer and harder than climbing, and no time I have been so clear minded through work, yoga aside.

When climbing with a clear and focused mind, it is absolutely sublime. When that focus is lost, and the mind starts darting from one place to another, from fear, to desire to reach the summit, it becomes absolutely miserable. Step by step, focusing on what you are doing and where to go next, rather than the summit, or any superficial things surrounding the climb, will degrade the experience.

I am struggling with the idea that it doesn't matter what I climb. It doesn't matter if it is a feat of masterful self control, endurance, and disregard for obvious risks, or if it is just a simple mountain in the Cascade mountains. What matters is that I challenge myself, and learn. It is easy to sit and dream about the epic climbs of the Karakorum range, or of more modest, but attainable climbs like Rainier or Shuksan (which i obviously do), but it is more important to continue to climb, whatever I can, whenever I can, and continue to grow.

“Let me respectfully remind you:
Life and death are of supreme importance.
Time swiftly passes and opportunity is lost.
Awaken! Awaken! Take Heed;
Do not squander your life.”

-a Zen gatha


Mount Stuart, Cascade Range, Washington (a personal goal to climb)

Top Photo: something I will likely never climb; K2 if I am not mistaken.