Forward:

The following was writing over a 10-month span following these events. Based off extensive, raw journal entries. This was a very emotional peace to write although one I feel the need to both document and look back on in reflection knowing that despite the state I was in IT benefited my life through learning lessons about myself that would not have happened without the emotional rollercoaster that was 2018.

Alone On The Mountain

"Screw that bitch!!!"

I am pretty sure more then just a couple people overheard me mutter those words out as I walked across a North Vancouver parking lot.

I had just seen a therapist for the first time... let's call her Shannon. Not to protect her identity but rather that's actually her name. There is nothing to hide here. No shame, no pride. Just humility.

I had Just seen Shannon for the first time and not by choice. I was having a real tough go at life and was essentially 'decreed' to see her. I knew that despite wanting to keep things to myself if I didn't comply I'd probably be locked up and forced to see her anyways so I might as well try and embrace it. I honestly figured it would just be some person coddling my emotions and encouraging me to feel empowered.

At the end of our session, she asked me what I was going to do with my time when not seeing here. That was easy, I was going to try and keep myself occupied, most likely climbing. Climbing and the mountains, in general, has been the antidote to most of my problems in life.

"I Don't Know how I feel about that" were the words out of her mouth. Internally, if I was not already anxious I sure the hell was now! I felt so lost as it was, the mountains seemed like the obvious and only bearing to set in my life at this time and to have her tell me I shouldn't climb as she didn't trust my judgment made me feel so alone. With out climbing I truly had NOTHING else to live for.

With the small bit of intellect I had left in my little lizard brain I tried to articulate to Shannon that I had over two decades of climbing behind me in life and that I always climb with really competent partners, many of whom work in the mountains professionally... It wasn't good enough. She still wasn't convinced and by this point, I really don't know what I was thinking other then PANIC!

Have you ever gotten stuck fixating on one thing and one thing only? More often than not its a symptomatic detail in the context that solving it would only make a tiny step forward Vs actually focusing on the cause? That's what I was doing when it came to being told this might not be a good time in life to take voluntary risks; AKA climbing.

As I walked out of Shannon's office I felt so reactive. Although not actually the case, at the moment I felt like I was so close to being tossed into the Psych ward.

With that in the back of my mind, there was a fire burning in my brain. With a lot of unanswered questions in my life, something that was VERY clear was that I needed to climb! I didn't care if Shannon thought I was incompetent and riddled with a lack of discretion. I didn't care what would happen.

After a quick inventory of what I had with me in the back of my jeep and a quick pit stop to get a couple of snacks, I hit the road. I had my eyes set on the magnificent Mount Sir Donald and its world-class North West Ridge. A route I had never climbed but always had on my bucket list.

As I made my way through the city, and out onto the open road of the Trans Canada Highway I started to get phone calls... Friends called to ask me WHAT THE HELL was I doing?

Turns out word travels fast when a couple people ask how your counselling appointment went and I follow that up with "going to climb Sir Donald tomorrow".

As I drove the seven and a half hours to Glacier National Park, my mind was starting to calm down. I was at peace with my actions and knew it might be hard for family and friends to buy into this as a positive action. So to help pass the time on this long solo journey I started calling people up....

"hey dad, its Alex. How's it going?". Dad; "good, what are you up to?". "Oh, just driving through Kamloops". Insert awkward pause... "where are you going?". "I am going to walk up Mount Sir Donald tomorrow morning to help clear my mind". Even bigger awkward pause "Alexander, I think that's a bit more than a walk".

This followed with me manically telling him my full plan down to every little detail of what was in my bag with the hope that this would prove that I was not a loose nut and in fact still engaged and good to go. If I Remember right the conversation ended with him pretty much telling me NOT to let my mom in on what I was actually doing.

As I made my way into Revelstoke sometime around 10PM I made one last stop where I wrote out a note I planned to leave on my windshield with my plan, planned return time, equipment list, emergency contacts and egress plan if the pending Thunderstorms came in earlier... Oh yes, I failed to mention, there was a small weather window with a typical Selkirk Thunderstorms forecasted on either side of this window. Probably a good thing I didn't mention this to my dad eh?

Before leaving civilization and heading up into the park I sent a text message blast to those who mattered with a photo of this plan. As far as I knew, there would be little cell service from here on out.

As I drove through the darkness I started to smell something burning. "What the hell?!" I blurted out loud. Was something wrong with my car? engine temps were on point and I haven't been using my breaks... what the hell is burning? As I rounded a corner a faint glow backlit flying embers. There was a forest fire! As the glow got brighter it became evident that the fire was near the roadside. This sparked a little fire within me. It's not often you get to be so close to such a big, natural power. I eventually pulled up alongside the fire, lighting up my hazards. I could feel the heat penetrating the walls of my vehicle. It was so humbling being this close. I couldn't help but grab my camera and jump out to take some photos.

As I walked across the four lanes of the Trans Canada highway something was wrong... It felt like the world around me was moving at a different pace then I was. SHIT, It is actually my jeep that's moving and slowly but steadily gaining speed as it moved away from me. As I ran after my jeep while it cut across 3 lanes of empty highway I finally got alongside it, opening the door and grabbing the E-Break while still running beside it. Despite this, it was still moving. What the hell! I jumped in and took control, getting onto my side of the road and finally clued in. Despite convincing myself that I was as sharp as a knife the long drive had finally caught up to me. I had left my vehicle in drive. I felt so dumb! Someone could have really gotten hurt from this complacency. As I sat opposite this forest fire I started really questioning whether I was mentally checked in for what lay ahead. Eventually, I got my head back in the game and figured I was just overtired and decided to boogie on past the fire and find a spot to bivy, even if it was not quite at the trailhead.

As I finally crawled into my sleeping bag that night I wrote in my journal "I was told not to climb due to the risk and my poor judgment... I will Climb!!! I will free-solo the magnificent NW Ridge of Sir Donald. It's a gamble with the weather but this is a battle I'd be equally proud to win or lose. Goodnight!"

With all that was going on and the excitement of climbing one of the most classic ridge lines in North America the 3 hours I had budgeted for sleep were not utilized well. I finally dozed off for an hour or so and woke up to my 3AM alarm in tears. I felt so contrived emotionally. All the goodness one would have when about to climb such a classic route mixed with my life's baggage. I really questioned whether my emotions were too high for this.

As stubbornness overtook my rationale I slammed a tiny can of Red Bull chased with some Ensure protein drink then headed into the darkness.

I find when hiking alone, the motion of one-foot in front of the other becomes very hypnotic. My mind temporarily leaves my body to do the physical work.

As I let my mind enter this state time slipped away, kilometres started to pass... and then it was abruptly interrupted. My body went from meditative to pure shock. What the hell slipped from my mouth as shrubs brushed violently against my thy. My fearful questions were quickly answered as I shared a fearful eye to eye stare down with an adult grizzly bear. We were both caught off guard in each other's personal bubble. Without thinking I pointed my bright headlamp directly into the bear's eyes, blinding him just enough to take some steps back. I made it roughly 30 feet back before this large predator started huffing and puffing in a deep tone. It felt like I was inside a bass guitar, each pluck of the strings vibrating deep into my body.

I instinctively started, waving my hands with trekking poles high above my head doing my best to play the intimidation cards, hoping this bear would not call my bluff. Without question, he could own me with one swipe. I entertained the idea of trying to get my ice axe off my back in case things got hands-on although I couldn't take it off without removing my pack which was at least guarding my back like a shield.

As my words changed from pure fear powered fraises to more conversational I started telling (well yelling) at the bear that I was sorry for invading his space, acknowledging this was his home and not mine. This continued for what felt like an eternity although according to my watch it spanned 20 minutes until the bear slipped into the tall grass enough that I felt comfortable passing and eventually turning my back on him.

I fearfully stepped up my pace till I had half a Kilometre between us before I stopped to catch my breath. My lungs were gasping for air after yelling for so long. I dug into my pack for my Asthma inhaler, gasping in a dose.

My heart rate started ti slow and I began processing what had just happened. I was scared but I also felt privileged to share such a mutual experience with this bear. In reality, he was most likely as scared and shocked by me as I was by him.

As I took off again, the lush greenery transitions to the grey moraine and eventually the alpine basin directly below Mount Sir Donald. As I passed the sign stating I was at the end of the trail I started jumping boulder to boulder aiming for the Uto / Sir Donald Col.

I briefly stopped to throw my harness, equipped with a small selection of nuts, a couple meters of 6mm cord and my lightweight gloves. I didn't want to stop again unless I needed to switch out of my running shoes for rock shoes.

From this point forward there was a huge laps in time. I don't know where it went.

Suddenly this timeless state of mind was interrupted with the constant vibration in my pocket. I came to a startling sense of reality. I was high on the Northwest Ridge. When the hell did I get here I asked myself?! What the hell is going on?! Emotions overtook me like an ocean surge. I broke down and hit an emotional rock bottom. As I butted my head against the rock with tears running down my face I reached into my pocket for my phone. I realized I was high enough to have cell service and it was 8AM. People were flooding me with messages asking how I was, Where I was, was I still alive. It was overwhelming and I couldn't find a balance between responding tactfully and managing my emotions. As I talked to some of my closest friends my cover was quickly blown. I was having an emotional break down at 9800 feet from an exposed stance on Mount Sir Donald. Were they worried? No, they were worried as fuck! Eventually, I got a phone call from my friend Ryan. As he kept his cool, he asked me how things were and what was going on. As my emotions calmed for a bit I was able to get a grasp on my surroundings and talk my way through things with Ryan. He helped ground me to the point that I could rationalize things. The first thing that I noticed was that I had my rock shoes on. I do not for the life of me remember putting them on! This is a true testament of how out of it I was from the point of hitting the alpine.

Ryan and I talked things through a bit. My brain was so narrow-minded and distracted that I couldn't really put two and two together. As we talked things through I made the observation of Thunder clouds moving in from the West. I knew they were in the forecast for late afternoon although it seemed as if they were moving in quicker. With this in mind, the conversation changed more to the context of retreat. Sir Donald has a long track record of being a lightning rod that has taken many climbers out over the years. The Quartzite rock is also known to get quite slippery when wet which would make down climbing in a storm not at all easy.

The two options I had for descent were either intercepting the west face rappel route or downclimbing the ridge. I got hung up on this decision for quite a bit. It was so simple yet my mind was at such a capacity I just couldn't really rationalize things. Eventually, as I continued to talk things through with Ryan I bounced the pros and cons of each option, interrupted constantly with emotional thoughts of my crumbling life.

Eventually, I decided to go for the downclimb.

As I hung up the phone with Ryan I began the descent. As I took intentional moves down the ridge, I would stop periodically, allowing my emotions to flood out and document them in my journal. It felt like time was moving so slow, especially in contrast to earlier when it just disappeared like a good bottle of wine. As I made to the terminus of the ridge I dropped down behind some rock to seek refuge from the wind. I felt emotional bagged! As I messaged a few people to let them know this episode of life was just about over I noticed the time. It had only been 60 minutes since I started down climbing.

After half an hour of letting my mind slow back down and come back to a rational state, I began the hike back to the car. In fear of running into my bear friend, I decided to keep my harness on, racking my nuts one by one. A sort of Do It Yourself bear bell solution.

I quickly started putting Kilometres behind me, making quick work of the bombproof hiker's trail.

I walked into the packed parking lot at 1:30, dumping my pack at foot of my car in relief.

I had the pleasant surprise of finding a bottle of beer stashed on my jeep from my good friend Kenzie who was passing through the area. As I sat outside my jeep, processing things the park warden walked up... I was dreading this knowing that drinking a beer in the parking lot was probably the least of my worries. As the warden approached me he began telling me about all the fines I was liable for. Entering a National Park without a park pass, illegally parking in a short term drop off parking stall, illegally camping... my arteries boiled with anxiety till the warden paused then let out a chuckle. He told me he saw my not on the windshield and asked how my day went up on Sir Donald. As I filled him in he told me in a very positive tone how these National Parks were created for people like us. People going out into the backcountry not to exploit it but to respect it and learn from it. He then told me that I wouldn't be getting tickets that day. I was really taken back from his humanizing and understanding of why I was there. In typical climber ethics I thanked him with the two leftover beers I had.

As the warden walked away, beers in hand and the clock hit 2:01 the Skys opened up and the slamming tone of thunder rattled the valley. My observation of the weather moving in faster than expected was correct, reaffirming my decision to bail a couple hundred meters short of the summit.

I started thinking of what my next move would be. On my drive out the previous day, I had conspired an idea of continuing to run east, climbing my way through the Rockies and beyond although as my emotions stayed fresh on my mind I had the dying urge to get back to Squamish in the comfort of my own bed, taking on a hibernating like state.

With this on my mind, I hit the road west. Despite being exhausted I was still riding my manic high. Friends and family pleaded with me to get a hotel in fear that I was over-fatigued. Even despite people offering to pay for a hotel I put their concerns behind me and powered through, only stopping for gas.

I rolled back into Squamish at 1AM, a mere 34 hours since I left my councillors office. I instantly crashed in bed, waking up the next day just wiped. This manic faze had finally ended allowing my brain to truly process what had just happened.

For the first time in over 2 decades of climbing this was the first time I ever felt resentment for going to the mountains. Although I love climbing, I felt I went to the mountains for all the wrong reasons that day. I didn't go to Sir Donald to appreciate the mountains. I went to the mountains to give them a chance to kick my ass.