Ice Climbing and Being in the Moment

Ice Climbing at Barking Dog - North Conway, NH

Ice Climbing at Barking Dog – North Conway, NH

Kicking crampons into ice is not comfortable. After a long day of climbing your feet are somewhere between freezing and numb. Your hands are clutching your ice tools way too hard and your arms are shaking from exhaustion. Ice climbing is one of the few sports that I can think of in which the things that pose the biggest danger to you are also the things that you are counting on to keep you safe. With a pair of razor sharp crampons strapped onto each foot and a grim reaper-esque ice tool in each hand you slowly crawl your way up frozen cliffs and waterfalls. When you first start out your breath is shaky and your arms get pumped quickly. As you get into the zone your breath matches with each swing and kick, you loosen your arms which makes the ice tool stick better, and every now and then you pause to shake out an arm before continuing upwards. Those moments of rest are beautiful. It might be 10 degrees out but the light refracts off of the ice making it sparkle. In places where it is thin you can see the moss frozen underneath. Thick ice is almost a Tiffany blue color.

This past weekend I went ice climbing up in North Conway, NH. My first camping trip was when I was three, I started rock climbing when I was seven, and although I ice climb less than I would like it is a natural extension of an obsession with climbing really big objects that look impossible with minimal safety equipment. I should take the time now to apologize to my parents for the stressful moments I have caused. Every person does, or at least should, have a place to escape too. More importantly, every person should have a thing that lets them focus entirely on what they are doing in that moment. Walking down the streets of New York City it is easy to get caught up in the noise and bustle. Being surrounded by so many people rushing around, yelling and honking puts our bodies into a stress mode that is unavoidable without constant conscious effort.

When I am a few hundred feet off of the ground with a rope, a few pieces of well placed steel and a good friend keeping me from falling, it is as if my liver goes into over-drive and cleanses out all of the noise that has filled my head. The consequences of not being in the moment, of not blocking everything else out, are serious. This is no stroll through central park. While I am not proximity flying in a wing suit (not yet at least), there is an inherent danger to climbing. Gear fails, people fall, shit happens. From ski racing to rock climbing I have lost mentors, heroes, and seen/suffered enough serious injuries to understand the importance of focus.

I do not recommend that every person uses rock/ice/mountain climbing as their escape mechanism. What I do recommend is that every person identifies a thing that, when they are truly engaged in it, they are entirely in the moment. Decide to make that activity an important part of your life on a daily, monthly, or even annual basis. Give your body a chance to detox, remind your brain of what matters, and focus on the present.

Breath

Kick

Breath

Kick