From Russia - Ponderings of Life and Death
Life. After several days of acclimization, camaraderie, and Russian gastronomies, we woke at midnight to our clear, calm, summit day on Mt. Elbrus in southern Russia. Bundled in three solid layers to start our initial ascent, I had the privilege of a conversation with Migma Gelu Sherpa, a 26 year old Nepalese man who has summitted Everest five times. He was proud to share with me that his sister, at age 15 was the youngest female to summit Everest. Life. Auspicious life.
I've always been in love with the rhythm of steady movement. Whether it’s the forward stroke of an extended ocean paddle, the pulse in the legs over hours of constant movement on trail, or the purity in power as feet connects to turn the drive train of a bicycle, there is comfort in the simplicity of motion. The body draws strength to feed its strength.
Mountaineering has become a recent extension of my celebration of motion. Life affirmed in basic repetition. As we ascended Elbrus slowly I immediately connected with this essence; breathe, step, breathe, step. Body solid and relaxed I meditated on the affirming sound of dry snow crunching on metal, and silence.
Death. Several weeks prior on Elbrus, several climbers got caught in a storm and perished. Before our final summit push we came across some of their clothing clinging to a rock as if to mark their passing. I could feel my heart move loudly in my chest as I stood and glanced at the impromptu memorial.
The summit was welcoming with brilliant, clear views - rewarding us for our diligence in motion. Be smart, stay solid and the Mountain Gods may let you experience the prize.
The crux of our descent was a straightforward traverse on a steep ice/snow field. It was a spot I "noticed" on the way up. An increase in heart rate and reluctant glances down the extended, sweepy drop off definitely got my edge on.
Before heading down this spot our guide said in his halting English/Russian, "Of course, be very slow on this section. Many people die here."
Of course, I thought as we descended in the hot sun. With the thought of death lingering I placed my feet precisely and stopped often to knock the snow balls off the bottom of my crampons with my axe shaft.
Life. Mountaineering always seems to involve copious amounts of eating and post climb drinking and our dinner and vodka session was no exception. Celebrating our newfound friendships and our movement up the mountain affirmed the chance to try for another peak. These thoughts prompted songs, laughter and stories from all.
Death. After some challenging travel in a country that seems to reluctantly share basic information to aid English speaking travelers, I arrived in Moscow to news that a friend and all around solid human being, Bob Hebeler, died in a bike crash on a pristine mountain road in Santa Cruz, CA.
With a heavy heart my thoughts reach out to friends at home, his kids and wife - all of us left to somehow make sense, or not, of that slight precipice between life and death. It has always seemed strained and fruitless to try and justify or negotiate a premature death. We are then left to cope with our own lives without that person and perhaps somehow steep their essence upon our life choices.
Bob went out in a beautiful spot in the world, celebrating this life giving movement on his bicycle. From a distance, I like to think of him still riding indefinitely. Purity of movement in that strange juxtaposition of life and death.
I have an upcoming Ocean Swim Clinic in September that I shall dedicate to Bob. Perhaps together we can celebrate him through our continued movement, swimming, biking and running. Continued life to you Bob.
xoxo from Russia - back at you from France,
Terri
I've always been in love with the rhythm of steady movement. Whether it’s the forward stroke of an extended ocean paddle, the pulse in the legs over hours of constant movement on trail, or the purity in power as feet connects to turn the drive train of a bicycle, there is comfort in the simplicity of motion. The body draws strength to feed its strength.
Mountaineering has become a recent extension of my celebration of motion. Life affirmed in basic repetition. As we ascended Elbrus slowly I immediately connected with this essence; breathe, step, breathe, step. Body solid and relaxed I meditated on the affirming sound of dry snow crunching on metal, and silence.
Death. Several weeks prior on Elbrus, several climbers got caught in a storm and perished. Before our final summit push we came across some of their clothing clinging to a rock as if to mark their passing. I could feel my heart move loudly in my chest as I stood and glanced at the impromptu memorial.
The summit was welcoming with brilliant, clear views - rewarding us for our diligence in motion. Be smart, stay solid and the Mountain Gods may let you experience the prize.
The crux of our descent was a straightforward traverse on a steep ice/snow field. It was a spot I "noticed" on the way up. An increase in heart rate and reluctant glances down the extended, sweepy drop off definitely got my edge on.
Before heading down this spot our guide said in his halting English/Russian, "Of course, be very slow on this section. Many people die here."
Of course, I thought as we descended in the hot sun. With the thought of death lingering I placed my feet precisely and stopped often to knock the snow balls off the bottom of my crampons with my axe shaft.
Life. Mountaineering always seems to involve copious amounts of eating and post climb drinking and our dinner and vodka session was no exception. Celebrating our newfound friendships and our movement up the mountain affirmed the chance to try for another peak. These thoughts prompted songs, laughter and stories from all.
Death. After some challenging travel in a country that seems to reluctantly share basic information to aid English speaking travelers, I arrived in Moscow to news that a friend and all around solid human being, Bob Hebeler, died in a bike crash on a pristine mountain road in Santa Cruz, CA.
With a heavy heart my thoughts reach out to friends at home, his kids and wife - all of us left to somehow make sense, or not, of that slight precipice between life and death. It has always seemed strained and fruitless to try and justify or negotiate a premature death. We are then left to cope with our own lives without that person and perhaps somehow steep their essence upon our life choices.
Bob went out in a beautiful spot in the world, celebrating this life giving movement on his bicycle. From a distance, I like to think of him still riding indefinitely. Purity of movement in that strange juxtaposition of life and death.
I have an upcoming Ocean Swim Clinic in September that I shall dedicate to Bob. Perhaps together we can celebrate him through our continued movement, swimming, biking and running. Continued life to you Bob.
xoxo from Russia - back at you from France,
Terri
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