First
off: an apology for being distant the past few months, it hasn't been
intentional-- I retreated to a very dark place and have not been very
present in life. I apologize if I never returned a phone call or
message, did not check in, offered to help with something only to not
follow through, or failed you in some other way. Times have been
bleak.
The
past eighteen months have been riddled with tough events and at some
point, I lost my ability to be a functional person. The end of a
serious relationship; a bad car accident; a death in the family;
working an extremely stressful and demanding job in a negative and
unhealthy work environment; the death of a beloved pet; the
near-death experience with another beloved pet; finding the courage
to walk away from the stressful and demanding job; tenants who
trashed my house, stole my possessions, and quit their lease
agreement while I was out of the country; and a completely
soul-crushing attempt to go back to college after five years away,
I
broke as a person. Daily panic attacks that would last one to three
hours and occur multiple times a day, inability to sleep, inability
to focus and remember important things like when is the water bill
due, painful gastrointestinal issues that required management, and a
loss of confidence in myself.
My
climbing suffered as well. No longer could I push myself trying to
lead 10s and 11s, instead, I would bail on 9s. I nearly turned around
on Dog Mountain less than halfway through the mellow hike. I made
three unsuccessful attempts up Mt Hood, each time turning around
because my nerves were fried-- the last attempt was so bad that I
stood my climbing partner up and bailed on a perfect weather window,
I couldn't even will myself to make it to the parking lot.
The
thought of staying in Portland, getting another job, trying another
go at school, just pushing through everything and making it
work somehow only creates anxiety and feelings of doom.
I
love this city, but it's time to go.
...
I
grew up with a very traditional and linear view of life. I
experienced crisis when I realized that I will never fit the West
Texas narrative for what a woman is supposed to do. Negotiating
feelings of failing that narrative and trying to figure out what's
next has been difficult. Everyone expects a plan. We talk about other
people's lives with judgement and negativity when their choices
differ from what we consider "the right thing to do". I've
been afraid to share my dreams and aspirations because they involve
art and hiking up giant snowy hills.
It is
socially acceptable to talk about people who create art like they are
worthless and deserve every misfortune that falls upon them. "Oh,
Johnny is a bartender now at another restaurant and still drive that
crappy van? It's so disappointing that he's never done anything with
his life, but what do you expect from a literature major?" How
many times have you heard some version of that conversation?
The
more I thought about staying the course and making things work
somehow in Portland, the more I knew I had to go. We had a good run
and now it's time to move on.
I
planned a departure date for shortly after a WFR class and began
looking at the map. Originally, I was looking more for sport climbing
crags. But a trip focused exclusively on rock climbing posed
challenges: mainly that because I was bringing Ollie along. Dogs at
the crag are more of a liability than an asset, finding partners to
deal with a dog would be more difficult, and with her, multipitch
would be impossible.
So I
looked at the map, marked where I had a few great friends to visit,
connected the dots and figured I could do some backpacking along the
way. The highway had me going surprisingly close to many state
highpoints! Surprise! Some google research reviled that many of these
peaks are within my ability (and Ollie's too) so an idea formed. I
was going to try and hit these highpoints along the way, do some
painting, and see some friends.
While
working with some guys in a crevasse rescue clinic and talking to
them about this trip, one of them called it a sabbatical and the name
stuck. I like thinking of this as a sabbatical with the hope I will
come back refreshed, happy, and maybe with some pride in myself.
So
here's the plan for #Sabbatical2016: Get out of Portland, climb Mt
Hood, drive south through California, visit family in
Bakersfield, try for Mt Whitney, drive east through Arizona, attempt
Humphreys Peak, visit the Painted Desert, visit my friend Maggie in
Albuquerque, attempt Wheeler Peak, drive north into Colorado, attempt
Mt Elbert and any other 14rs in fair condition, climb with Ben and
friends in the Flat Irons, visit Denver and Boulder, drive north to
Wyoming, climb with Amber in Laramie, flail in the offwidth cracks of
Vedawoo, hike Table Mountain with Ollie and stare at Grand Teton,
attempt Kings Peak in Utah, pass though Salt Lake City and hopefully
climb something with Gabe, drive north to attempt Borah Peak, climb
all the granite in City of Rocks and Castle Rocks, drive west into
Oregon by way of the Wallowas for some more backpacking, and finally
return to Portland. I'm going to make a painting for each state I
pass through- if the highpoint is unsafe to attempt while I am in the
state, I'll find some other fun and appropriate challenge. The goal
is to have as much fun as possible and come out of this with a happy
dog, sore body, confidence in myself, and some decent art to show for
it.
TIME
TO GO!
