What do I do now?

During an ice climbing trip this past winter in Ouray, CO, two young men walked up to climb a route immediately to the left of Deanna and I. It was clear to us from what they were saying that this was going to be their first lead climb. I was excited for them. Simply making the decision to lead a climb is difficult enough (especially an ice lead); following through with that decision is something else altogether. Going to do one’s first lead is where the proverbial rubber meets the road.

While the two young men were organizing their gear, I climbed the route we were on and planned to pull down our anchor so that we could climb another route elsewhere in the gorge. Once I recovered the anchor, I walked down the circuitous snow trail back to the base of the wall. As I got to Deanna, I looked up and noticed that one of the young men successfully “sent” his first ice lead. ‘Nice job!’ I thought. And then, he asked his friend a question that neither Deanna nor I will ever forget. He asked, “What do I do now?” At the very same moment, Deanna and I glanced at each other incredulously. My first thought was to think he was joking. Clearly he had to be joking. We wanted to laugh; yet there was a sense in which he seemed to be utterly serious. And to our shock, he was serious. I couldn’t believe that he embarked on one of the great rites of passage for a climber without knowing what to do when he got to the top. What is more, I couldn’t believe that his belayer would let him do that. (It was later that we learned that his belayer was a climbing neophyte himself. As such, there is a sense in which I am not surprised that he belayed didn’t say something.) Deanna and I quickly packed up our gear and moved on. We didn’t want to be anywhere near these two.

Since that event, however, I’ve found myself in a very interesting place in life. You might say that that event is a metaphor for my current situation. I’ve made certain decisions over the years. I’ve acted upon those decisions. And yet I find myself having completed my intended tasks---well somewhat you might say---and wondering what I am supposed to do now? I honestly don’t seem to know the answer to that. I feel as lost about what to do as that newly christened lead climber did atop that ice wall. As I “stand” here on the proverbial top of a climb, my only sense is that I should continue to sit here and wait for more information, for clarity and a sense of what to do next.

My Review of Black Diamond GTX Frontpoint Gaiters

REI

These gaiters, with their hard-core materials, sculptured fit and wide range of adjustability, are built to handle the rigors of ice climbing.

Black Diamond GTX Frontpoint Gaiters

Awesuumm!!

SLOAlpinist San Luis Obispo, CA 4/23/2009

5 5

Fit: Feels true to size

Pros: Secure, Comfortable, Easy to put on, Takes a beating, Lightweight

Best Uses: Crossing water, Hiking and Camping, Ice Climbing, Crossing Scottish moors, Snow Sports

Describe Yourself: Outdoor Professional

I got my pair back in 2002 when my wife and I backpacked from the east coast to the west coast through the highlands of Scotland. One leg of our journey required that we cross Rannoch Moor. The standard joke was that it is 12-14 miles depending on if it's raining. Why? When it's raining, the already wet and boggy moor becomes a like a swamp and you cannot simply walk directly across. On a number of occasions, I sunk into the boggy, wet soil all the way up to my knees. Yet, the water never got under my gaiters.

I also use these when ice climbing, doing snow approaches that involve lots of "post-holing," etc. Never have these gaiters failed me.