During the previous evening, after getting up and down the Middle Teton, my partner and I chatted about random things before falling asleep. As the conversation drifted to the topic of childhood, he became very unhappy.
Things were now awkward. Anything I tried to offer was met with angst. All I could do was remain silent and not make things worse.
Moments later he leaves the tent. I remember being drowsy, peeking out as he left, seeing the stars, and thinking how much more awesome they looked from 11,000ft in the Tetons.
Things were now awkward. Anything I tried to offer was met with angst. All I could do was remain silent and not make things worse.
Moments later he leaves the tent. I remember being drowsy, peeking out as he left, seeing the stars, and thinking how much more awesome they looked from 11,000ft in the Tetons.
This is going to sound immature, un-zen, and selfish but-
- A 40-something year old climber dude was having a breakdown about their childhood...
- at 11,000 ft (what could be more cathartic than being at 11,000 for the first time?)
- on MY trip... Not just any trip, but the ultimate mother of any-and-all trips I had ever taken in my life up to this point.
By the time he came back, I was asleep.
The next morning, he announced that he would not continue. There were two nights left.
For whatever reason, as if by reflex or force-of-habit, I automatically went into debriefing/what-went-wrong-analysis mode. Perhaps it was my attempt at salvaging the circumstances.
At one point on the trip he told me that I (my personality) was different now than when we met at Sushifest. I believe the word he used to describe me was "clinical". He was not wrong. While Sushifest was party, the Tetons were more like an objective, almost a mission. Albeit a fun one.
For whatever reason, as if by reflex or force-of-habit, I automatically went into debriefing/what-went-wrong-analysis mode. Perhaps it was my attempt at salvaging the circumstances.
At one point on the trip he told me that I (my personality) was different now than when we met at Sushifest. I believe the word he used to describe me was "clinical". He was not wrong. While Sushifest was party, the Tetons were more like an objective, almost a mission. Albeit a fun one.
"Do we have to discuss this now?" was his response to my inner robot that accidentally escaped for a moment. We briefly discussed gear. He offered to carry some of it down. I was still stunned at his decision and not thinking straight. All our climbing gear was stashed near Disappointment peak. He said that he was going to the stash to get his helmet and harness. Again, he offered to carry whatever gear I didn't want back down. Unfortunately I didn't know which gear that was.
I didn't think of it at the time, and I don't mean to minimize anyone's pain, but as someone later said to me in Tuolumne, it's never too late to have a happy childhood.
Those that know me well know that I say that with more credibility
than your average bear... which could be interpreted me being very childish.
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