Jun
14
Another Challenge… Unsteady Ground
June 14, 2009 | Leave a Comment
Another Challenge.. Unsteady Ground
It has been over three months since my surgery and I am still under strict doctors’ orders: “Don’t Sweat” and “Be Still.” There is no leeway to the left or right of this course of action if I wish to be freed from my present confinements soon. The risk of infection is just too great, and this is why I am still on “Hard Core” antibiotics. Initially, it was thought that the wounds would close in six weeks, at most, but my body has had some trouble in healing so we are patient in the process.
I had not intended to go into the details of this journey, but I felt so inspired to take this time to share with my many concerned friends just where I am on this not so predictable slope. I want to ease your minds and let you know that I am grounded and well. I will start my chemotherapy one week after the incisions have completely healed. We are almost there.
It is sometimes difficult to remain grounded in unpredictable situations if your mindset is not pliable and you have not taken the time to prepare for change. As I thought of the shifting ground beneath me, the memories of my “Beautiful Whiting Ranch Wilderness Park” took me back to those early days of the Park’s renewal and repair from her Firestorms of Change.
The day I first entered her gates, after being locked out for so long, presented many unexpected challenges to my path. The trail below my tire tread was no longer rocky, but was shrouded with soft sand – so much of it that I questioned if part of the rebuilding process was in bringing truckloads of sand from the seashores to fill this mountain’s wrinkles. Such a smooth face she now bared! The sand was really just a small part of the metamorphosis, yet it quickly became the direct focus of many a mountain biker as they struggled to power through the deep sections. The deeper the sand the more it would try to take hold of the tires and stop you in your tracks. Many did not enjoy this unsteady surface, because, even though it covered the dangerously exposed rocks, it brought another element of frustration to the terrain.
Whether it is sand, loose rocks, or ice, an unstable slope can make the trek to the top almost impossible if you are unprepared. About ten years ago I had my first experience climbing ice-capped peaks. In preparation for an adventure race that would take our team up the dangerous and icy slopes of Mount Hood, Oregon, we had to prove our ability to execute a life saving technique called “Self Arrest.” This is done by rolling the body face-down and forcefully planting your ice ax into the icy surface like an anchor. If not done correctly it could ultimately result in death. As I nervously practiced, I gained more surety and confidence in my ability to act quickly and do what was needed if this life-threatening situation should become a reality.
At the beginning of the race, in order to get to the snow line, we climbed a ridge in the dark before dawn and hit ice and dangerous terrain just after sunrise. This world was so surreal and brought an element of fear to the mountain’s cold, dark face; which has claimed hundreds of human lives. Moving forward on this icy, upward slope was impossible without crampons, which are metal cages with teeth that are strapped onto your climbing boots allowing you to dig in, grip on and move upward.
It took us a couple of hours to traverse this off-camber terrain. Each step had to be forcibly placed and tested before body weight could be trusted to hold. If you were able to place your foot in the print of someone who had gone before you it was easier to find that firm ground. Not once could you become unfocused in such a perilous situation. One wrong step. . .one careless move could be your last.
By the time we had circumnavigated the crown and come off the ice, our nerves and minds were ready for a break. Off came the crampons as we prepared for the next unsteady slope. It came in the form of scree, very loose and deep shale. We faced a 1500-foot decent on this moving landslide and had to learn the safest method to ride it. Our team chose the direct path straight down, floating as light and quick on our feet as possible. This kept our bodies loose, and enabled us to shift with the flow and remain upright. It was a wild ride and only a few teams chose this seemingly dangerous method. The truth of the matter being this technique was much safer than that used by most of the individuals who carefully, and full of tension, made a slow descent.
I have made it over many a mountain, but not many with such unsteady and dangerous terrain. The key has always been to be prepared for any danger those slopes may present. Seldom, in my world, has there ever been a desire to turn around and go back. By retreating you will miss out on the ultimate prize – the spectacular view from the top.
Some may think it would be crazy to purposely choose such dangerous and unpredictable sports. However, I prefer to look at my journey in the mountains as my training ground for life. I have learned many skills that have prepared me for the unexpected. I have learned not to be bothered by a bit of sand in my shoes, and to pause and rest for a time if discomfort can lead to a problem. A single grain of sand in our shoe, simply by being there, will tell us how we approach our challenges. Is your sand a trap or a castle? Would you find a positive in the challenge if the ground were shifting before you, or would you complain and give up because “It just isn’t fair?”
Two weeks after my surgery I decided to trek up a hill behind our house to a bench that sets on a ridge that looks to the mountains. Later that day my doctor put an end to my wanderings and kept me off the trails and back on solid ground. I know it will be but just a moment in time until I am given the all-clear sign, the green light to “GO.” On that long awaited day, as the sun sets, you will find me up on that ridge letting the mountains welcome me home again. Come join me. . .you may just find that the mountains will call you home again as well.
Post Script: This evening I met with my surgeon and learned that my incision site has failed. I will be heading in for a five-hour surgery at the end of the week to correct the problem. This will once again put me back on track and closer to the peak. As my doctor was redressing my wound she would look up and ask “Are you alright?” After her third inquiry I let her know, “I am a person who likes a plan. When plan ‘A’ fails, I turn to plan ‘B.’ I’m not disappointed because you have just given me the solution to this problem that we have faced for so long.”
The ground beneath me has shifted once again, but I AM PREPARED: SO ALL IS WELL.