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Thanks everyone for the kind and wise comments. I never meant to denigrate the real passion for the Sierra we all have, just to invite your input into a situation that surprised me. I hasten to add that I am not having an existential crisis or am depressed (great job, great marriage, etc.). I realize that I didn’t frame my question/proposition in the same way that I was internalizing it. I think that what I meant to say was that I was bored (or sated) with “alpinism” and was wondering if anyone else, especially those with a life-time of doing it, had cycled through that.
I’ll briefly explain. Like many, my seminal/youthful experiences in the Sierra ignited an interest in the physical and spiritual (for want of a better word) journeys associated with that mountain environment. As the years (decades?) rolled by I realized that the Sierra wasn’t going to provide the diversity of logistical and mountaineering challenges, or mountain environments, and there was a lot more to see and do. Traveling, my mind was blown, especially by the Andes and the North Cascades (do an image search for Pickett Range or Ptarmigan Traverse). If the Sierra is a 10 (10 point scale) these places are a 15 in terms of sheer jaw-dropping scenery (IMHO). But they are also a 15 on the misery/danger scale, especially the North Cascades. So it was decided to get back to the Sierra for the more “relaxed” vacations where occasional squalls and mosquitoes are about as bad as it gets.
Fast forward (backward) to last year- I think my experience of being “bored” was perhaps a case of “been there, done that” in the general mountain sense. And many of you suggested interesting and wise ways to re-frame that experience by a change of scale (i.e. photography) or the human dimension (outreach, family). Unfortunately I’m crap with a camera, and already
have an artistic outlet that consumes a lot of time, and my job as a geology perfesser allows me wonderful opportunities to share my connection with the natural world.
BMFB shared thoughts that resonated, and deserve a special response. He calls out the primal power of connection of family and landscape (themes familiar from Stegner to Steinbeck), as a rationalizing framework for linking Sierra experiences to the Big Picture. I couldn’t agree more: my
great-grandparents arrived in California in 1853 and are
buried in the Pioneer cemetery in Coloma(where gold was discovered). My
great Uncle enlisted in the Union Army in 1863 in San Francisco as part of the
California 100, who fought in the Shenandoah Valley campaign, and returned to join the family as wheat farmers in the south Central Valley. One grandmother was a celebrated early educator and has a school named after her in Stockton. My Dad grew-up on a dirt poor, one cow farm in Madera, but managed to put himself through Cal,
graduating in 1940. It was his parents who eventually
bought an old range cabin on Hwy. 4 in 1943, back when it was just an
oiled dirt road; and it became a jumping-off point for
a little boy, into the gentle and uplifting Sierra.
It stands to this day. Point of all this is that I often reflect on the intangible power of this legacy of connections to place: hard work, simple pleasures, love of Nature, and I respect that. Thank you for the reminder. As for humility, I have experienced it most directly through mortality, having seen my grandparents and parents through their end of life, and having three of my best friends (backpacking amigos too) die. I don’t want to dwell on that, humility is one of these things one can’t get enough of, but I am in a season of life where it arrives unbidden and too soon.
But back to the question- how to re-energize these connections, after making mountain experiences part of my life for over 45 years? Last year it occurred to me (doah!) that I had spent all this time going up, and the one mountain venue that I hadn’t really invested in was rivers and their canyons. So ladies and gentleman may I introduce to you, my boat Chili Waters:
Last Fall I took up white water kayaking (it is freakin’ hard folks!) and have had a few epic experiences already (we kayak in the snow in January up here in Washington). But I will never “run the gnarr’” like the young guys, so this really isn’t going to be the whole story. See the young bucks
run the N. Fork Mokelumne here. (The guy going over the falls sideways at 4:20 is kinda wild). I won't do that stuff.....
Imagine shaping a somewhat unique journey with no Roper, no Secor, no permits, no pack trains, heck no trails. (Add brush and rattlesnakes.) A journey into the heart of the web of water that connects the highest Sierra to the entire chain of dependencies: Remote canyon hiking. I’m going to give this a stab, and already the planning is going to require a different approach. Stashing boats, food, and carrying a wet suit and rappelling gear. My first one will be the N. Fork Mokelumne in 2011: Highland Lakes (off Hwy 4) to Salt Springs Res. I have already pieced together most of Monte Wolfe’s old trail and am planning the rest with a renewed enthusiasm. After that the forks of the American, etc. Maybe once will be enough, maybe not, but that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. To be continued....
Thank you everyone. HST is a class act.