Chapter 6 04/26 years old, became a retired engineer

Deep Mind Game: What you win in gambling is never worth what you lose. Joe.The Simpsons, Dark Shadows Falling * In the year after I met the stalking black bear on Mount Grand Teton, I chose three mountaineering itineraries that filled all my entertainment plans: I wanted to climb all the mountains over 4,000 meters in Colorado; To solo in winter (something no one has done before); and, I'm going to climb the highest point in every state in the US. In late June of 1997, I started working at Intel, which seemed a lot easier than being hunted down by a winter-starved bear. To compensate for the mediocrity of this new job, I created the experience of a lifetime by exploring Arizona's diverse land canyons, mountains, volcanic cones, impact craters, deserts, and forests.Through a college classmate, I met Mark who is also a teacher and friend.Fan.Yiwut.At the time, the two of us were working together in a clean room in south Phoenix, and over lunch we chatted about plans for hiking and camping trips.

Plus my college girlfriend Jamie.Ziegler gave me an Edward .Abbey's book "Desert Solitaire" sparked my passion for desert exploration.I became a founding member of the Intel Adventure Club in 1998. At that time, I and four colleagues, including Jamie.Stoltenberg and Judson.Cole, and together they planned a plan to hike across the Grand Canyon.Starting from the South Rim, descend 1,500 meters within 11 kilometers, cross the Colorado River near Mirage Mountain Villa via the South Kaiber Trail, and then cross the 22.5-kilometer Bright Angel Trail to the North Rim. Climb 1,800 meters to our campsite R3.

Before leaving, I was reading Jon.Krakauer's book Into the Wild.The protagonist in the book, Chris.McCandless broke away from mainstream society and traveled around the country. After reading the book, I began to fantasize about driving across the United States and wandering around.I was totally invested in Chris's adventures, so I also took that book with me on my R3 trip across the Grand Canyon.One passage in particular stood out to me, a letter from Chris to an old friend he met on the road, which reads like a manifesto: □□□ Many people live in unhappy circumstances, yet they do not take the initiative to change their situation because they are conditioned by a life of security, obedience, and conservatism, which seem to bring peace of mind, but in fact, no A carefree future is a great damage to the soul.The basic core of a person's living soul is the passion for adventure.The joy of life comes from experiencing new experiences. Therefore, it is the greatest joy in life to keep changing your horizons and have a new start every day.

I wanted to experience the fun, the thrill of adventure, leaving the security of work behind and letting my mind wander, and that meant embracing the outdoors.Before embarking on a larger expedition, it takes experience; I have to be prepared and reduce the risk.To put it more bluntly, I had to get a truck and quit my job.But there's still a long way to go before I'm ready to do that. Another book by Krakauer, Into Thin Air, captured my imagination in the winter of 1998.This book describes the disaster of the mountaineering team on Mount Everest. Eleven people lost their lives.Beideman's group of missing climbers was together, only a few hundred meters away from the fourth camp, thinking if I was in the same situation, what would I do?Exhausted on the summit, blizzard relentless onslaught, hypoxic and frostbite am I going to die and give up struggling?Will I leave the trapped team members to find a chance to save myself?If I get back to camp safely, will I go back and save them?How would I behave in a situation where my humanity fully emerges?This disaster drove me to test myself.I wanted to reveal the real me: the kind of person who gave up trying to live and died, or the kind of person who overcame circumstances to help themselves and others.After reading the book, I not only thought of climbing the Himalayas, but also wanted to explore the depths of my soul.

So, on March 8, 1998, I began a solo winter ascent of Arizona's highest point: Mount Humphrey.Mark lent me snowshoes, an ice axe, and the climbing reference book "Freedom of the Hills", telling me that I must master the ice ax skills described in the book.Orienteering north from the snow bowl ski area eight kilometers northwest of Flagstaff City, I walked through the pine forest for two hours on snowshoes, followed the 3,000-meter-high terrain line, until I entered a long snowfield.From there, with Mark's ice ax in hand, I climbed more than 762 meters to the moderate slope of the summit ridge, where I let my snowshoes be covered by the snow.The clouds were so thick in many places that I couldn't see the cliffs to the right of the ridge, so I stayed on the left for a safe place, but the wind was stronger on the left.After half an hour of walking along the rocky rim of the ancient highland crater, the biting wind made me shiver, but I finally caught sight of the summit.At the 3,850-meter summit, I crouched behind a wall of rock built by my predecessors, as three distant thunder and lightning strikes disintegrated in the southern clouds.

I couldn't stay on the summit and risk being struck by lightning, but I didn't want to leave the protection of that stone wall either.For a moment, I could relate to the mood of the lost climbers huddled together on the South Col mentioned in the book.At this point, my visibility was zero, I was confused, tense, and lethargic, and I understood how, in the dying moments, the wish for things to get better can turn into deadly apathy.Trying to calm myself down, I got up from the windbreak and decided to face the blizzard.Looking at the whole hazy gray, ready, I check the compass and choose a ridgeline to descend the mountain.The snow was so strong that the footprints I made when I went up the mountain were wiped away in seconds.

I forced myself to go down, my eyes searching for the snowshoes that had been deliberately marked.I left them on the ridges of the snowfields to mark the turning points down into the woods and out of the storm.I noticed that the backpack was hissing.I stopped to check the pack and saw little blue sparks shooting from the metal tips of the poles.I foolishly put the pole on the backpack, so the tip of the pole is one meter above my head, attracting lightning! I quickly dropped my backpack and fell onto the snow. I had never moved so fast before.Gasping for breath, I hurried off the ridge on my stomach, remembering to pull my backpack to my side in a pinch.When I felt safe and could stand up, I quickly ran.A minute later, I slowed down, when a brief change in the cloud's light and shadow led me to see the snowshoes.I retrieved the boots, and two hours later, I finally made it to my truck safely.

The experience of climbing Hanfurui Peak this time has developed my mountaineering style model, traveling alone, climbing through snowstorms, and judging the direction in difficult situations. Of course, it is a fluke to escape the electric shock. The climb was also a confidence building for me: my realization increased, and in that realization I felt more alive. After the Humphrey expedition, Mark and I often talked about our plans to solo the 4,000-meter-plus mountains in Colorado in the winter.Mark knew I wasn't experienced enough for such a risky project, but he also knew I was desperate to get it done.He taught me the basics of rock climbing, using ropes, detecting avalanches and snow touring.We scouted locations around central Arizona, starting with beginner-level mountaineering trips and practicing at Temple's indoor climbing gym. By Labor Day weekend in 1998, Mark, my friend Howard, and I were in San Francisco, Colorado. Mount Juan's Vesto Peak, experiencing the first multi-pitch ① alpine rock climbing in my life.

①Multi-pitch climbing: Multipitch climb, the climbing distance exceeds the length of a rope. Mount Vesto was particularly memorable because Mark taught us how to overcome our fears while climbing the nearly 4,600-meter-high granite slab.On the way up to the North Face Center Point, the bottoms of both of my climbing boots blew off within a few minutes as the pressure of the ascent caused the studs to disintegrate, so I climbed the higher part of the route with It's like climbing in chunky rubber flip-flops. Although my equipment was not up to standard, we made it to the summit, but I wanted more and wanted to keep climbing.At the summit, Mark introduced me to his favorite smoked fish and crackers, which became a tradition on every summit we climbed together.We took a group photo together. In the photo, I was smiling brightly with smoked fish in my mouth. The two friends left a memorial together, overcoming the fear of the day, and the expression of being dizzy with joy was fully revealed in the photo.

In the fall of 1998, my younger sister, Sanja, was in college, and she moved to Northwest Texas, where even a vigorous mouse would be listless.Wanting to share my thoughts on the wilderness, I asked her to come with me to the waterfalls of Havasupai Canyon, one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen, just southwest of Grand Canyon National Park.In the language of the Aboriginal people who have inhabited the canyon for a hundred generations, Havasupai means blue-green lake dweller.There are four main waterfalls, the tallest of which flies over a 60-meter-high cliff, and the magnificent water curtain falls into the bottomless blue-green lake pool, filling the canyon.

Sanja and I arrived at the trailhead on Thanksgiving Day in 1998 and hiked 16 kilometers from the plateau down to Havasupai Canyon, passing a village of about 200 residents.Because there are no roads in the village, all the supplies are brought in by small helicopters and pack donkey teams, and there is even the only post office in the United States that is still served by donkeys.Residents have a community local line and enough electricity to play reggae music.Most of the younger residents have given up subsistence farming, and the overgrown land in front of their homes is reminiscent of the jobs their parents and grandparents held. After passing the small village and Navajo Falls, the most natural and widest of the four waterfalls, we came to Havasupai Falls and the camping area in the afternoon.Havasupai is a landmark waterfall, its obvious water flows into a maroon travertine rock formation with a drop of 45 meters, and into a deep pool warmed by the sun.Among them, Muni Falls, the 67-meter-high waterfall, is said to be a magical place where many backpackers and campers hang out.We picked a campsite, left our packs and equipment behind, and explored it. ② Travertine: travertine, where water flows through or splashes, a sediment composed of water and high concentration of lime. After a few minutes of exploring from the camp, we came to the edge of Muni Falls and were overwhelmed by its beauty and dark colors.The two were silent for a full minute before whispering: Wow. We looked down at the lush green meadows, towers of brilliant yellow cottonwood leaves reflecting the sun, sun-bleached white tree trunks dotting the estuary sandbars, and flowing rock formations of unique cherry-red travertine hanging like curtains , adorning the canyon under the omnipresent azure sky. Below Mooney Falls, we descended via a series of tunnels, chain ropes, climbed down, and a trail of unknown paths disappeared into tall bushes from the estuary sandbar.We waded across the creek bed and walked another nearly five kilometers to Bilford Falls, where the travertine forms a natural embankment across the stream, separating horseshoe-shaped pools, each of which overflows below. in a pool. The waterfall is about fifteen meters deep, and the water splashes down a sixty-meter-long channel in the canyon. It reminds me of the Yellowstone Hot Springs that our family visited about ten years ago.Eight kilometers past Bilford Falls, the creek joins a narrow channel where the turquoise waters of Havasupai Falls spill directly into the muddy brown Colorado River at the bottom of the Grand Canyon.Sanja and I didn't have time to walk to the river, so she sat on a rock above Bilford Falls while I balanced over the embankment to the west bank of the creek.With my wet sandals on, my footing wasn't very secure, but I reached a ledge with a row of prickly pear cactus next to the river bank.On the reef I had to go upriver, around the 1.2-meter-high cactus garden, to the wider part of the embankment, where it was easier to get back to the east.My best guess is to climb the rock wall about three meters above the reef and try to get over the cactus from there.Even though I wasn't sure if my sandals would grip the steep, soggy travertine, I went anyway. Moving five steps from right to left, after I stopped about a human body length above the largest prickly pear cactus, the support of my left hand began to feel sore, and my body appeared in an X shape.When I shifted the weight of my body to my outstretched left foot, the piece of gray on the right broke off, and as a result of my body shaking, even the place where my right hand was grasping was broken.For a moment, facing the rock, I partially slid down the travertine wall with my sandal fingertips.I can see the prickly pear cactus near my hip.The paddle-shaped branches of the cactus are naturally arranged near the bend of the rock wall, and there are two cacti on the edge of the reef.As I glanced hastily down, the cactus bush looked like a voracious giant flytrap, ready to feast on expired food.Just as my heels were about to touch the top of the cactus, I instinctively bounced off the rock wall, twirling and bouncing back into the air, trying to get around the thorny plant. My foot hit a pear-shaped paddle-shaped branch about a meter high, but I judged the landing to be safe, and my momentum pushed my body into a crouching position to absorb the energy of the landing.The prickly surface of the pear-shaped paddle-shaped branches touches the soft tissue of the inner thigh.After being stabbed many times, I rushed back into the air in a panic, and then, like a cowboy who fell off a horse, I stood hunched over the reef above the travertine embankment and pool. Sangka shouted: Are you okay?I hesitated for five seconds before answering: It's okay, but I fell on the cactus. I staggered forward, trying to find my way out of the cactus garden, and then took off my shorts.The fabric of the gray long underwear was dotted with red blood.In the center of each crimson wound is a centimeter-long cactus thorn.I plucked for twenty minutes to get rid of the most annoying thorns, then took off my long underwear, looked for smaller, thinner thorns, and pulled them out one by one, counting when I passed a hundred. I don't know.About an hour later, Sangjia asked me to put on my shorts, and it turned out that other backpackers approached.I pocketed my long underwear and stepped over the embankment to see who was coming.It turned out that the only people we met down in the small village were two friends my age, also from Phoenix, going camping on the Colorado River.I wanted to see the lower part of Havasupai Falls, but since Sangja didn't feel like walking the 26 kilometers back and forth, I went with Monk Mark and Chad and made an appointment for the next morning Meet at the river at ten o'clock. In the fading light, my sister and I headed back to climb the Muni Falls Tunnel.Back at camp, we pulled out some cooked turkey and served it on crackers for a main of macaroni and cheese.It's just basic meals in the backcountry, we're not celebrating a traditional Thanksgiving dinner and what we're most grateful for is having each other in such an inspiring place.After we each ate chocolate bars for dessert, we hung up the food so the raccoons couldn't steal it, and climbed into the open tarp, two lonely people on the 800-meter-wide campsite, ready for bed.My sister curled up and fell asleep while I sat for another forty-five minutes with a headlamp and tweezers trying to get the remaining cactus spines out of my panties.Knowing that no one is watching me awkwardly reaching, rubbing, plucking, and making weird expressions of irritation saves me from being so awkward. It's just my tweezers and me in the canyon.A week later, while watching a football game on TV at my friend Chandler's house, I found the last, tiny thorn in my left buttock and readily pulled it out. At seven o'clock the next morning, I went down to the canyon by the light of my headlamp, climbed down the ropes and chains left at Mooney Falls, walked across the creek bed, and quickly crossed the sandbar estuary and creek bank on the other side of Bilford Falls The meadows and reeds on the side, just in time to reach the meeting point of the Colorado River.There, Shanmark and Chad treated me to some freshly brewed coffee from their stove.We passed the time by moving slowly along the slate rocks in the lower part of the Havasupai Outlet, looking out at the somewhat scary Colorado River, and carefully studying the possibility of swimming along the south bank of the river.Chad waded across the point where the Havasupai Creek meets to capture a photograph of the clear water crashing against the Colorado River's black opal. ③ Opal: Opal, opal is an amorphous gemstone, the main component is silicon dioxide plus water. I wanted to follow Chad into the water and outrun him, so I scrambled up the last rock above a powerful whirlpool and jumped like a cannonball into the Colorado River, fully clothed and without a lifejacket.Chad did take a hilarious photo of me rolling in midair like a ball, headed toward disaster head-on, and if he and Mark didn't move fast enough in the following, it might be the last photo of me.When I jumped in, the unexpected temperature of the river made me gasp at the low temperature of ten degrees, which was more than 20 degrees lower than the hot and warm Havasupai Creek. The heavy long-sleeved shirt and trousers weighed 4.5kg, and my feet dragged me like a ball as the water yanked me along the edge of the 13-meter-long eddy.I kicked off my shoes and swam desperately, not wanting to be sucked into the deep water whirlpool 1.5 meters from the shore.But I noticed that I wasn't swimming any closer to shore because of my effort.The circular swirling current is too strong to resist.I paddled and paddled and Chad and Monk Mark looked at me and yelled: Alan, do you need help? I bravely replied: No, I can.That's when I swallowed my first mouthful of river water. Chad must have heard the panic in my voice, because he rushed back to their camp nine meters away as I struggled in the whirlpool. The eddy current pushes me from the shore, I'm quickly sucked in, and the cycle repeats.As I tried to unbutton my long shirt to ease the drag, I was immediately submerged, needing air before I had undone a single button.The icy Colorado River compressed my chest, making my breathing shallow and wheezing.After taking three sips of water and submerging for the second time, I decided to give up undressing. Downstream of the vortex, the rock wall of the canyon rises straight up from the water to a height of 80 to 90 meters, and stretches for 90 meters until the river bends to the right and disappears in a corner.I knew that if I was caught downstream, I would sink before I had another chance to leave the river, even a hundred and sixty kilometers with the stream, which would wash my body up to the upper shore of Lake Mead .A newspaper headline appeared before my eyes: Idiot engineer drowned in Grand Canyon, body found in Lake Mead. I beat the water continuously, doing all I could to break free from the whirlpool.When I finally had a chance to break through the edge of the vortex, I shouted: Help!help! Chad came back from camp and stood on a ledge of rock.Shanmark, here!Chad threw a bundle of auxiliary rope to Shanmac, who was 4.5 meters away from me. Ellen, hurry up!He threw the rope, but it fell into the vortex, over my position, and drifted out of my reach very quickly. Hmm.I grunted and continued to swim desperately, trying to find my way to shore.The cold paralyzed me, my feet, my arms and my heart gradually went numb.Shanmac retracted the rope and threw it again, but the swirling current had already carried me across the bank and into the irresistible force of the Colorado River. Concentrating on the edge of the vortex, I kicked my frozen feet and slapped the water hard with my arms.I didn't see Shanmac hand the rope to Chad, but five minutes later, when I was in the vortex again, Chad had already thrown the rope, yelling: Ellen, catch!Catch it!it's there! I reached out and pulled the thin black rope that lived limply in the whirlpool.Just as Chad pulled hard to bring me closer, the rope slipped from his hand.Disappointment almost overwhelmed me, I knew I couldn't survive another spiral, I begged: Help!Throw it again! I paddled as hard as I could, but was already weak.The rope had to be thrown perfectly this time, and if it got any wrong, I was dead.Three seconds later, the rope reappeared, this time hanging over my right shoulder, thank goodness!I gripped the rope tightly with both hands and wrapped it around my left wrist, because my body was limp, I could only take my last breath, put my head in the water and float along, I felt the rope tighten in the water, Clutching the wrist tightly, but I don't care.My only thought is please don't break that rope.First the hands, then the arms and the chest brushed the sand, and then I felt Shanmac holding my arms.I felt so bad, my whole body was floating, I could barely feel anything.I was finally safe, but exhausted.A voice said: Oh my God, can you still breathe? I nod.Thank you I said breathlessly, with my head buried between my outstretched arms and my face buried in the sand. God, you almost died!Shanmac was worried and nervous, but Chad was calm. nothing will happen.You are safe.how do you feel? so cold.I said tremblingly.I think I swallowed a lot of water.I turned around and sat up, slowly pulling my feet out of the water, moaning in pain from my distended stomach, trying to throw up, but I was too weak to even do so. I rested for five full minutes, staring at the vortex that nearly killed me, before I could stand up.Chad gave me a dry knit sweater and I staggered around trying to regain my balance.Even though my body was dry, I still felt cold and had to keep moving to keep warm.When I finally had some strength to climb up to our previous resting place, I had to sit and rest.We relaxed, though we were both still a little lightheaded from the aftermath of the adrenaline. I couldn't believe how lucky I was with that last rope throw.I'm quite amazed that a few seconds and a few centimeters saved my life. What I can't believe is that you're acting like no, I don't need any help: I'm drowning, but I'll be fine.Chad made fun of me. I looked up and smiled, and then everyone giggled.Are you ready to go?I have to activate my metabolism by moving my muscles and bones. We are ready.Shanmark said.Put on your shoes and go. oh.The shoes are gone.I have to kick them off in the river.I see I'll have to walk back in my socks.My shoes are now halfway to Mexico and my sandals are in a Havasupai camp. Nearly thirteen kilometers, man.Here, take the sandals off my backpack.Chad leaned in and I undid the devil's loop on the backpack and took off the sandals.Those rubber sandals were too big, but few were better than nothing. The longer we walked, the better our bodies felt and gradually warmed up.We chatted about the rescue along the way, and I asked Chad if he had a picture of me, and he said: I got that picture of you yelling when you jumped off the rock. Well, it was worth it.I said sarcastically, showing a toothy smile.I'm actually happy to have a commemorative photo of the silliest moment. As we walked back to camp, Shanmark said he had a bottle of vodka in their gear stash above Muni Falls, and for a moment, that became our biggest motivation, and we picked up speed for the remaining five kilometers upstream, Hopping over logs, wading and gliding in creeks, had fun running around Havasupai for an hour.After arriving at the destination, we eagerly drank most of the bottle of vodka, and then found Sanjia.It was getting dark and Sangja was swimming with us in a large pool under Havasupai Falls.The story of how I almost drowned was repeated over and over, then waded up below the falls, reappearing in the moonlight like a creature from the blue lagoon.After drinking the rest of the vodka, the four staggered out of the pool in the dark.We also made a fake misfortune note, stuffed it in a bottle, and sent it to Mooney Falls to go with the wave.We imagined it going all the way to Lake Mead, where someone would find the note saying: URGENT!We are at the Havasupai campground.Send more vodka now!At the end of the note, we signed it carefully. When night came, my sister and I got into our sleeping bags.I lay next to my sister and told her what it was like to fall into the Colorado River.I put the joke aside and said slowly: I'm so scared, Sanja.I saw newspaper headlines reporting my death.I thought I was hopeless.My sister and I wept until we gradually fell asleep.The next morning we packed up our gear, hiked the 16km back to the car, and took one last photo together at Havasupai Falls.That photo became my favorite photo of me and my sister. Until December 1998, I had never climbed a mountain above 4,000 meters in winter. To be more precise, I had only climbed seven mountains above 4,000 meters in total, and all of them were Climbed in summer. I planned to climb the easier, non-technical peaks first in the winter of 1998-1999.Safe snow touring knowledge and winter climate experience are required for even these least strenuous alpine pursuits. On the last training trip I did with Mark before winter break, we attempted to climb Engineer Mountain near Durango in southwestern Colorado.Due to a snowstorm on the ground, the visibility was only fifteen meters, and the conditions were poor.About a third of the way, we stopped to study how to dig a snow cellar and practice evaluating snowdrifts.Mark taught me how to check snow layers for hardness, cohesion, and avalanche potential, and things that might become routine later on. Two days later, Mark and I drove through about a meter of snow in Wolf Creek to Alamosa in my fully loaded coupe, renewing our snow fun craze.We had often skied together during the snowy year of 1997, camping behind the parking lot in the Tacoma ski area, watching the other skiers arrive over his freshly cooked hot oatmeal.This time skiing is especially meaningful, because Mark will go to work in Alamosa later. In the morning, we parted ways and I drove north to Fairbray in central Colorado.My plan is to try to climb Kuandanin alone in winter before spending Christmas with my parents. Guandaning's short ridgeline route makes it the easiest peak to climb in winter over 4,000 meters, and it has a low probability of avalanche, making it an ideal place to test winter solo climbing skills. On December 22, it was clear and cold at dawn, but high-speed winds were blowing high over the mountains.I bought Mark's old snowshoes and strapped them on to my water-resistant leather hiking boots, feeling childishly excited and jittery, feeling like this was a different kind of hike. The ascent of the 4,457-meter Mount Guandaning represents the first stage of fulfillment of the promise.I stood at the beginning of the forest with my arms outstretched as the prep transitioned to the show. On steady uphill sections, the wind in my face grabs my attention most of the time.When I'm trudging through the snow, up to altitudes where forest growth grows horizontally rather than vertically, I try not to let the inside of my goggles frost. I quickly left these squat junipers behind.Higher still, the wind blows snowdrifts onto the rocky tundra.I left my snowshoes on a broad hump, somewhere above 3,600 meters.I looked to the southwest, and the nearby mountains above 4,000 meters were clearly visible.The wind cut into the vents of my goggles, making it hard to keep my eyes open; white-headed peaks floated in my line of sight against the blue sky. As I climbed higher and higher, the color of the sky changed from Mediterranean blue to dark blue.I imagined I could keep walking until the sky turned black.I thought seriously, at this moment, I should be the tallest person in Colorado Station. In fact, no one climbs mountains over 4,000 meters in winter.Maybe I am also the tallest person in North America at this moment. The temperature on the wind chill index was minus twenty, and I put a small amount of food in my trouser pocket.At the summit, I found my store-bought pitcher completely frozen and the chocolate bars in the wrappers frozen.They were inedible despite my efforts to gnaw on the popsicle-like bars and lick off the chocolate outer layer of the peanut filling. The wind was at my back on the descent and I almost flew off the summit as I hopped and ran back to the snowshoes.The physical stress of climbing a mountain was lifted and I wanted to celebrate.I put on my snowshoes and thought about what I could do to keep my food and water better while climbing and not freeze. After all, it's not always just a short trip. I got back to the car and drove the two hours to my parents' house in Denver, feeling elated that my project was a success.Although I was eager to improve my solo performance in winter, this incident made me wait for a whole year until December 1999 before I had the opportunity to climb the second 4,000-meter-plus mountain in winter. of mountains.During this time, I moved to Washington State for work, which gave me the opportunity to climb mountains and push my skills to the next level. My speed increased to the point where I could climb 900 meters vertically in an hour with a nine-kilogram backpack on my back; I became proficient at using crampons on snow, ice, and rocks; Prepare to climb the icy peaks of Custeque and practice crevasse rescue and roping group glacier tourism techniques at Mt. Rainier, Mt. Baker, and Mt. Suxanne. ④ Crampons: crampons, metal crampons.It is about the length of the general sole, and ten or twelve tooth nails are installed on the metal bottom, which can be tied to climbing shoes for climbing ice and snow. During those six months in Washington, there wasn't a single weekend of good weather (by the end of summer, the world record for annual snowfall was at Mount Baker), but I climbed every weekend.I found that I couldn't do anything if I had to wait for good weather, so I overcame wet clothes, a moldy tent, and camping out on cold midsummer nights. On Mount Rainier, my partner Paul and IBud has already crossed the mountaintop, went up the mountain via the Gorz Skate Trail, and then went down the mountain by the standard route, but because of the lack of ice piles⑤, and constant lightning and snowstorm interference, this trip I learned to sit in the exposed camp What does ground mean. ⑤Ice pile: Ice Screw, a protective tool for ice climbing, looks like a large bolt with threads on it, which can be bolted into hard ice. With our camping equipment, food and water on the other side of the mountain at 3,352 meters, we shivered at 3,000 meters for eight hours, depleted by minus twelve degrees of cold.During that time, we climbed 4,500 meters vertically in 24 hours (we had to re-climb to retrieve our equipment), and because of the snowstorm, we walked 66 hours without sleep. Paul and I put in a lot of effort, and it showed the depth of my ability; the following weekend, when I was with my friend Judson from Arizona,When Cole returned to Mount Rainier together, in fourteen hours we climbed the standard route that most people would take, from the base area of ​​the park to the summit and back.During an endurance climbing kick, I met a group of mountaineering clubs and climbed with them the north face of Mount Suxanne, one of the most beautiful mountains in the world, and still one of the best mountains I have ever climbed one.Still, the ascent bears out the adage: If you want heaven, you have to go through hell first. We made our way through a forest of unwieldy undergrowth that ripped my ice climbing gear from my pack without me noticing.I also lost my only map, as I was wrestling every two steps in the alder branches that covered five centimeters.Thankfully, we knew the route pretty well, so we were able to keep going, even though we only managed 1.6km on the almost eight-hour night hike. By morning, this abominable method had left us exhausted.After repositioning during the day, we finally reached the 1,500m north couloir, collapsed and took an hour-long nap, only waking up around noon.Afterwards, we tied with ropes to avoid falling into the crevasses while climbing the higher glaciers.再往上三百公尺，抵達北峰連結兩條冰河的斜坡中，我和綁在一起的夥伴布魯斯越過一處雪崩殘骸區域時，聽見遙遠的隆隆聲從我們上方傳來。 前面的夥伴們開始大叫要我們快跑。我和布魯斯很沒默契的往反方向跑，繩子倏地拉緊，我們很愚蠢的卡在當場。事後想起這段我們還可以捧腹大笑的講述，但是當時卻讓我們到了焦急驚恐的邊緣。我立刻喊布魯斯：這邊！我在逐漸變強但還看不見的雷聲中大叫，並拉了一下繩子提醒他。 我們兩個在盲目的恐懼裡奮力往前衝過雪地。帶著沉重的登山靴、冰樁和二十公斤重的背包，想快速移動卻只是癡人說夢。時間變慢了，感覺我們像是在原地跑步。突然間，周身的巨響變大了，接著停了下來，我瞬間彷彿進入一間隔音房，周遭格外安靜，我回頭瞄了一眼。 當時我們正從一塊掛在上面的冰崖，越過Z字形路線的中途，我看見一個公車般大小的大圓石猛然彈進空中，像個踢旋空球的足球一樣旋轉。這番景象讓我嚇得停了下來，我朝著布魯斯放聲大叫。跑！run!我不知道是否他清楚那個大圓石就要砸向我們了，而我們只有大約兩秒的時間。 在千鈞一髮之際，布魯斯連頭都沒擡，他只是更加奮力衝向我。我緊抓著繩子，將繩子往下抽，順著他跑步時的衝力把他拉進來，還得注意不要讓繩子和他的冰樁糾纏在一起。 當巨大的圓石在上方四十五公尺處以巨大的爆炸結束其流星般的飛行時，高漲的腎上腺素扭曲了布魯斯的臉。感謝老天爺！在布魯斯身後三十六公尺，大圓石的衝力只有部分被吸收，它像出軌的火車廂一樣滑過我們的足跡，猛然衝過裂隙邊緣。 聲音戛然而止。我們沒有一個人敢相信整件事結束得有多快，快到布魯斯根本就沒看見那塊大圓石；當大圓石俯衝到冰河裡時，他還在跑。我們死裡逃生，團隊在熱烈的氣氛中重新組合。 你們確定沒有人必須要換內衣？沒流一身冷汗？其中一個人開玩笑地說。我們受到驚嚇，雖然很想休息，但卻決定要繼續前進，在天黑之前紮營。 在隊友們引導了垂直攀爬九十公尺後，另一個繩索小組把這個更加困難的工作交給布魯斯和我。布魯斯還未從驚嚇中恢復過來，他還沒準備好踢踏步⑥、用冰樁搥打，承擔起在前面引導的重責大任。我借了一把冰錘以暫時取代我丟掉的工具，動身出發，隊友們會在我攀爬到他們上方約一條繩長度時才會跟上。 ⑥踢踏步：Kick steps。對雪地攀岩而言，踢踏步是最常用的腳法。這技術應視雪況不同來應用。鬆雪或雪上有踢得破的殼層，腳就容易踹入；如果在極硬狀態下，用力踹幾下留一些痕跡供腳尖或鞋內側踩踏。 我把冰樁前面尖尖的部分刺進牢固的夏末雪堆裡，我像拿著匕首一樣拿著冰工具，先把右斧刺進我肩上的雪殼裡，接著用我的右腳踢穿雪殼，努力擠出一步。當我站在我的右腳上時，隨即開始另一個繼續連續動作。當我行動時，有將近六百公尺未經開發的白色山坡，險峻地聳立在我的上方。沒有地標，不確定方向地前進。就連在我上方冰河上坡的地平線也捲起來不見蹤影，似乎永遠無法接近。我能憑藉的進度指示是偶爾來自布魯斯的叫喊聲，讓我知道我們已經爬了另一個繩子的長度，又是敲打另一個冰樁的時候了。 在布魯斯的指示下，我以平穩的連續動作，從背包的箭袋裡拿出一根零點六公尺長的Ｔ形金屬樁，對著坡面敲進雪壁裡。透過鄰接的登山用鐵鎖將繩子鉗牢，保護布魯斯和我不會掉下去。我們第二個小隊也運用同樣的冰樁，之後，當最後一個人通過每一個冰樁時，再把冰樁拿掉。 在我左邊，坡面連綿往下到同一塊突出的冰崖，這是我們看那個大圓石進行空中表演的地方。我把自己往內拉，專心地移動身體。我的攀爬模式呈現一種牢不可破的節奏：刺進冰斧，腳踢兩次，轉移身體側面，刺，踢，踢，刺，踢，踢。宛如一曲我和山的華爾滋。 當太陽落入六十公里外的普吉灣上方薄雲層裡，光線在海洋水氣稜鏡裡折射，蘇克珊山披上她最美好的晚禮服。攀在山壁上的我瞄了一下右肩方向，看到維多利亞市的燈光照亮了溫哥華島的海岸線。當落日像潑灑出的紫紅色的葡萄酒液，將鋸齒狀的皮奇山脈和北卡斯德克邊界的山峰染成紫色時，我發現愈來愈難傾身靠著我的斧頭，最後我站起來，不用踢踏步就走了九公尺。 我位在冰河頂端，在離海平面兩千七百公尺以上的高度，凝視著前方，在繩索允許的情況下，我移到白色高原的一處凸出點，能俯瞰貝克山、普吉灣、北卡斯德克和卑詩省南部，決定晚上在此紮營。如果下午完美的攀爬是前晚在叢林中行進痛苦的補償，那麼，這營地的平靜壯麗就是大圓石恐怖事件的回報。我精疲力竭的隊友們一一抵達，讚美我的踢踏步和營地的選擇，然後就開始張羅晚餐和休息。 然而，我們在蘇克珊山的冒險還未結束，因為我們尚未攻頂完成，我們還有漫長的一天。繞行黑色山錐堡壘的東邊，然後是南邊，我們被迫略過攀爬到山峰的高點，但也因此有機會可以觀察三座由山南邊冰河西側急下降的主要小峽谷。 少了地圖，大夥兒對下山沒有什麼把握，然而我們發現自己正在走這趟旅程最陡峭的一段：穿越一條道冰河裂縫（冰河前端從毗連的岩石拉開所造成的裂縫）的冰隧道，走下漁人煙囪（Fisher Chimney）的垂直岩石，上到令人受不了的最後階段，抵達貝克山滑雪區過程舉步維艱，當我們離開山之前，天已經黑了。 攀登蘇克珊山一個星期之後，我帶著工作搬到新墨西哥州，而且立即加入馬克已經參與五年之久的搜救團體。阿布奎爾克山區救援聯盟是新墨西哥州最頂尖的技術岩石救援小組，不但提供我前所未有的訓練和經驗，也讓我結識了多位登山夥伴。住在阿布奎爾克也讓我離科羅拉多山脈的距離更近。 有了夏天在華盛頓的大山冒險，還有更多在科羅拉多山區受訓的時間，我獲得相當多的經驗，讓我準備好在一九九九至二〇〇〇年的冬季，攀登一連串四千公尺以上的高山。然而，我仍在山神的掌握之中。 十二月二十二日，我在布羅斯山的山頂高原承受每小時大於一百六十公里的風速對我猛烈吹擊，不停把我撞倒。整個過程中，我都在爬行、試著爭取平衡，出乎我意料的，頭燈的金屬框竟把溫度導離額頭，變成刺骨的寒風，在我的太陽穴間留下了深紅色凍傷痕跡。那天晚上，我帶著可笑的紫色額頭，和在丹佛的家人會合，四天之後，這紫色的額頭褪色成一個帶著曬傷色斑的棕色污點。 那年聖誕節過後三天，我登上五座四千公尺以上的峰頂；兩天後，我和二十位朋友以及其他八千名粉絲，在佛羅里達州沼澤地國家公園參加費希的千禧年演唱會。費希樂團從午夜一直表演到天亮，將近八小時，無敵的馬拉松式演出，而這也是我參加的第五十場費希演唱會。那年春末，我和四個朋友甚至到日本去觀賞費希樂團在當地的所有表演；趁機也到了富士山山頂健行，那是我首次到一個國家的最高點。 二〇〇〇年冬天結束之前，我在科羅拉多獨自攀爬了六座四千公尺以上的高山，包括入門等級的卡森山和布蘭卡峰，兩座山皆位於寶血山脈南方。 二〇〇〇年一月十六日，我攀登首次頒發千禧年登頂證明的布蘭卡峰和其比較容易的姊妹峰頂，艾林伍德點（Ellingwood Point）之後，那回，我迅速下到一處勉強覆蓋下面大圓石的淺淺積雪地。 在大約三千六百公尺的高度，我一如往常地穿破雪殼到我的右膝。我在每次踉蹌猛烈攻進雪殼尖端時，總會擦傷並刮破我的腳脛，但這次我竟無法把腳從洞裡拔出來。 我用力拉了又拉，但徒勞無功，感覺到有塊石頭在雪裡移動，壓住我的腳踝。我的腳上並沒有很大的壓力，但靴子卻插得牢牢的，無法移動。我得把雪掘開，然後把岩石搬開，讓我的靴子可以出來。 我設法將手放進洞裡，解開鞋帶，用力將腳從靴子裡拔出來，翻身到右側，想辦法保持平衡，使穿著襪子的那隻腳不要碰到雪。十五分鐘後，我終於成功拿出靴子。 這個經驗讓我想到，如果卡住的不只是靴子，還有我的腳，會發生什麼事，或者，如果我扭到腳踝或甚至我的腳斷了，我可以在野外熬過一晚嗎？我有一個適溫標示攝氏負一度的睡袋壓縮在我背包底，還有一個爐子和燃料，但夜間的溫度非常低，我能撐下去嗎？我抱持疑慮。 我把這次的意外當作短暫的延誤，沒有很在意，只不過在剩下的路程裡，我成功避開兩個其他被埋的淺淺的大圓石地。 在那段持續攀登高峰的冬天裡，我學到有關心靈深層遊戲的理論，體會到一個人的遊憩是追求著風險。沒有任何實際穫利的可能性：財富、光榮、聲譽都沒有，將自己置身在真實風險中，純粹是為了獲得內在利益：樂趣和啟蒙。 心靈深層遊戲完全描述了我冬天單獨攀四千公尺以上高山的計畫，尤其當我開始攀爬時就朝著暴風雪前進，接受惡劣的氣候，忍受痛苦、寒冷、作嘔、精疲力竭、饑餓這些都沒什麼，全都是經驗的一部分，而心中的快樂、興奮、成就和滿足也一樣。 我發現我把安全預防措施和風險管理放旁邊，目的卻是放開心胸面對攀登所給我的考驗，並接受它。放開心胸面對任何在那裡等著我去發現的事，會引導我通往覺察和樂趣，即使狀況艱難。一位在最極端平面登山有特別成就和意外事故的美國登山家馬克．推特（Mark Tight），在一篇攀登隨筆裡寫道：不需要為了好玩而好玩。Indeed. 接下來，我挑戰攀登困難度愈來愈高了；然而，我將最需要技術性的頂峰保留到這個計畫的後半段。隨著時間的推移，我在攀登、紮營方法和設備上變得更有效率，身體變得更健康而且能適應環境氣候，這讓我嘗試挑戰時間更長和更費力的路線。我總是會制定一個旅行計畫，將預定回程時間告知我爸媽或室友，選擇路線，調整我的計畫，減少出現在山崩的路段。 到了二〇〇二年底，我已經在四個冬季裡，完成了五十九座四千公尺以上高山當中的三十六座。我的成就大於這個數字，我持續為自己創造了世上無人能及的新經驗。當我在登山口登記處簽到時，發現在我進去之前的三、五個月都沒人爬，是很常見的事。置身在久未有人跡的地方所帶來的孤獨，我感覺自己擁有這些寒冷的高山、山中小湖、寧靜的森林；有種和駝鹿、鹿、海狸、貂、雷鳥和山羊是親戚的感覺。我拜訪牠們家的次數愈多，愈感覺那也是我的家。 我曾在聖母峰西部盆地的柳樹林裡，差一點就踩到一隻雪白的雷鳥，牠咕咕叫並單腳跳離開我身邊。我彎身去看那隻鳥，牠墨水滴般的眼睛令我看得出神。瞬間，宇宙擴大了，我們兩個都沒有動。我在與牠相襯的雪地枕頭上，感覺自己和這個有羽毛的膨鬆小東西有關聯，似乎勝過我和人類的連結。我們一起存在在冬季的景色裡，一起分享的比我和其他從來不這樣旅行的人還要多。我拍了一張照片給我的朋友們看，但儘管我解釋了情境，但他們只看到那隻雷鳥，沒看到那種關聯。 還有，我荒野之中所擁有的經驗，是我一個人的。孤獨感、擁有感，創造了一個私人的世界。我拍了照片，把照片貼在網路相簿上；然而，這些分享失敗了，因為我所走過的那個地方和那個時間被移走了。對一個坐在辦公室或客廳裡的人而言，冬季山區的落日照片不過就是一張照片。 對我而言，那是拍那張照片的經驗。例如，帶著我二十二公斤的背包，穿著雪鞋走了八小時到白楊溪山谷之後，穿過一座積雪深度深不可測且無人走過的森林，經過結冰的瀑布，到達電峰和斷手峰之間三千九百公尺的關口。從值得一幅亞伯特．比茲塔特⑦畫作的優勢位置，我看著千禧年第一個冬至紅色落日的光芒，將柯瑞斯東山尖被白雪覆蓋的岩石礦柱變成一座雄偉的紫色山脈，它的美令我哭泣。不論我的攝影天分如何，我無法讓觀看的人感受到在那暮光時刻欣賞如此壯麗的景色時，我同時也感受到的體力消耗、疲勞、組織缺氧、興高采烈和成就感的卓越結合。 ⑦亞伯特．比茲塔特：Albert Bierstadt是十九世紀美國的美術工作者。他將旅行行中接觸到的大自然運用在寫生和油畫上，大多數的美國人非常欽佩此畫家。 我在冬季獨攀高山計畫執行得愈久，這個私人世界就變得愈大，它和我的自我感覺愈是糾結在一起，這不只是我做的某件事；它成為我。關於這個計畫和世界級登山路線的困難處，我並沒有抱任何妄想，或者把自己和優秀的登山家相比，但每次我攀登另一座高峰時，我總能探索和開發了另一部分的我。 我帶著我的滑雪板在哈佛山較低的南面，開始第一次俯衝偏遠地區的滑雪道，那是六個月來那座峰頂唯一有人通行的痕跡。我在馬斯夫峰西側三千三百公尺處，看到三隻狼在一公尺深的雪地裡跑了八百公尺，越過寬闊的草原，比牠們的本領和優雅更令人印象深刻的是，狼在科羅拉多已經絕跡超過六十年。我凝視著暴風雪，用激情和歡慶的心情看著牠們的熱情。 我的臉在洪堡峰上長了冰柱；我的雙臂在托瑞斯峰峰頂的風中像翅膀一樣張開；我在耶魯山山頂的太陽光裡取暖；在斯耐弗爾斯山上穿著我最厚的連帽羽絨外套，還感覺很冷 隨著我對野外活動的熱情和奉獻加深，讓我很渴望搬回科羅拉多，回到在高山地區的家繼續我的成長。我對在大企業裡工作完全失去興趣。二〇〇二年春天，我有個機會和一群超級運動員一起攀登丹奈利⑧山，但我的假不夠，我必須在追隨快樂和保住工作之間做出一個選擇。 ⑧丹奈利：Denali，為阿拉斯加遊客最多最負盛名的國家公園保存地。北美最高峰，海拔六千一百九十四公尺的麥肯尼峰（Mt. Mckinley）即位於此。 最後，我居然不覺得辭掉工作、賣掉大部分的家中用品、把野外玩具打包進我那輛三年的豐田卡車是一種犧牲。 二〇〇二年五月二十三日，我在最後一天上班日，寫了一封電子郵件給所有的朋友們，宣佈我的嶄新開始，引用歌德的一段話：不論你能做什麼，或夢想你能做什麼，開始去做吧。大膽包含了天賦、能力和魔法。 大部分的同事們都會鼓勵我，但也有少數幾位幾乎無法相信我居然會這麼做我要辭職，沒有另一份工作在等著，而且沒有要再回去唸書。 在我二十六歲的年紀，在工作五年之後，我正式退休了。 我展開一段旅程，到北美最高的山丹奈利峰頂，在六個月內貫穿三十八個州和加拿大，旅程最後則是在科羅拉多一個名為亞斯本的小地方，畫下句點。