From Russia - With Ponderings of Life... & Death

Life. We woke at midnight to our clear, calm, summit day on Mt. Elbrus in the jagged mountains of southern Russia. Bundled in three solid layers to start our initial ascent, I had the privilege of a conversation with Migma Sherpa, a 26 year old Nepalese man who has summitted Everest five times. He was wonderfully proud to share with me that his sister, at age 15 was the youngest female to summit Everest. Young 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 connect 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 for me has become a recent additional life affirmation of basic repetition in movement and as we ascended Elbrus I immediately connected with this familiar essence; breathe, step, breathe, step. Body solid and relaxed I meditated on the confirming 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. In the thin air 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 as it was a spot we had been warned of…. More death present there.

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 with our collective movement up the mountain confirmed the chance to try for another peak. These thoughts prompted songs, laughter and stories from all. Brothers and sisters even for a moment in time.

Death. After some challenging travel I arrived in Moscow to news that a friend, really great guy, and all around solid human being, Bob Hebeler, died in a bike crash on a pristine mountain road in Santa Cruz. My thoughts reached out to folks at home, Bob’s loved ones - 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 me to try and justify or negotiate a premature death. We are then left to cope with our own lives without that person’s presence and more importantly find ways to steep their essence upon our own life choices. I thought of the splendor of my recent mountain experience, of the road that Bob was riding, of the turn of the pedals. Life.

Bob went out in a beautiful spot in the world, celebrating life giving movement on his bicycle - purity of movement in that confusing juxtaposition of life and death. From a distance, I like to think of him still riding indefinitely. Continued life to you Bob. And continued huge life to Marie, Matt and Sarah and continued life and movement to us all.

xoxo from Russia - back at you from France,
Terri