GO FOR A WALK IN THE RAIN.
I never intended to climb the 13,770' Grand Teton outside of Jackson Hole Wyoming 65-times over the last 29-years. Several years ago, while speaking to a youth group, one of the kids asked,“Why? What inspires you to leave the parking lot at 1 AM to climb ~7,000' over 18-miles multiple times each year?”
The routes and summit don’t change. I know almost every rock, hand hold, and route on the mountain. I know that afternoon lightening is the enemy and snow & ice can be my friends. I’ve watched fatal accidents, accompanied elected government officials, and unknowingly facilitated an engagement on the summit. I’ve accompanied more friends, co-workers and family members to the summit than I can remember.
Somewhere along the way, I had an epiphany that climbing the Tetons, ice climbing in Colorado, sleeping on a port-a-ledge on the side of El Capitan in Yosemite, rafting the Grand Canyon, guiding Aconcagua, summiting Denali, and other adventures around the world have taught me invaluable lessons about running companies, marriage, raising kids, and life in general.
I ANSWERED, “IT’S NOT ABOUT THE SUMMIT. I KEEP GOING BACK BECAUSE I CONTINUE TO LEARN VALUABLE LESSONS ABOUT LIFE.”
Those lessons have continually provided guidance throughout my life and I want to share them over time.
NEVER LET FEAR DECIDE YOUR FUTURE.
At 3am on the 4th of July, 2019 my daughter, Sage, and I sat in her Subaru in the Lupine Meadows parking lot in Grand Teton National Park. It had poured rain all night and was forecast to subside later that morning. The temperature in the misty parking lot was hovering around 50-degrees, which meant that there was likely new snow, rime and ice above 10,000'. The National Park Service had not installed their weather station at the 11,000' Lower Saddle campsite, so it was impossible to know the exact conditions. Sage glanced pensively at me several times as she silently evaluated whether or not we were really going to go for it.
When we finally stepped out, turned on our headlamps, and started hiking, there were no guarantees that we would summit. In fact I suspected that we were likely to encounter extreme conditions that would eventually force us to turn around.
WHILE SITTING IN THE CAR IT WAS EASY FOR OUR MINDS TO DREAM UP FIFTY REASONS WHY WE WERE LIKELY TO FAIL. A FEAR BASED MINDSET WOULD HAVE JUSTIFIED US DRIVING BACK TO JACKSON HOLE IN TIME FOR BREAKFAST.
Instead of quitting before we got started, we opted to simply GO FOR A WALK IN THE RAIN. Instead of focusing on the bears and unknown danger 7,000' above us, we refocused on the beauty that surrounded us. The rain alone was not dangerous. There was no reason to turn around before we started.
We had helmets, crampons, ice axes, a rope and rock protection. We had layered clothing to handle single digit temperatures and enough food and Infinit Nutrition to spend the entire day on the mountain.
By the time we first encountered snow around 9,500', the sky had cleared and we strapped on our crampons. For the next 4,200' we took it one step at a time. With every step we evaluated the conditions to determine whether we could adequately mitigate the inherent risks.
Once we hit the vertical rock walls above the Upper Saddle, the temperature was in the low teen’s and the mountain was enshrouded in ice and drifted snow. While the danger continued to increase it had not exceeded my comfort zone and experience gained over the last 29-years.
I ascribe to Ed Viesturs’ — the first American to summit all of the 8,000m peaks — philosophy on climbing mountains, “Getting to the top is optional, getting down is mandatory.” There is always another day if necessary.
IF YOU ARE NOT WILLING TO TAKE CALCULATED RISKS IN ORDER TO INNOVATE, IT’S LIKELY THAT YOUR COMPETITORS ARE.
One key to innovating, learning and ultimately achieving superior results is to foster a risk based mindset. Create a plan, train, and gain valuable experience by failing often on projects that won’t kill you. Just like climbing the Grand Teton, the more knowledge that you acquire the better you are able to identify the difference between deadly lightening that could kill your project and an August snow storm that will simply be a temporary set-back. After 65 times, I have become far more adept at understanding what is actually life threatening verses what appears to be dangerous. I’ve had to help others off the mountain numerous times. Many of them had the right mindset, but went further than they should have without the proper training, fitness, and prior experience on smaller peaks.
IT’S NEVER ABOUT THE SUMMIT.
As Sage and I approached the summit around noon for my 61st time, (and her 3rd) we stopped in a rock alcove to take shelter from the wind. I shortened the rope then prodded her to lead us to the summit. Going first is always riskier because there is a risk of falling a much longer distance. She was exhausted, but reluctantly agreed. At this stage in my life I am her mentor as much as her father. She is the next generation and I wanted her know that I trust her, that she is capable, and to set her up for future success. The lessons my daughters are learning in the mountains resonate through out their lives.
It was cold, windy, and our fingers were frozen. We were the only people on the summit and most likely the only people on the mountain. It was an esoteric experience that is hard to describe. As I hugged her she started to cry and then to laugh with excitement and relief.
While the summit was our objective, we never defined success as reaching the summit. Our day would have been successful even if we’d been forced turned around lower. While we achieved our goal, there are many other days when we didn’t. It took those prior experiences for us to succeed.
GO FOR A WALK IN THE RAIN.
This insight and the ones to follow are mainly written for me. I am my biggest consumer. Just last week a good friend of mine was provided an unexpected business opportunity that could help him accomplish his lifelong goals. He immediately began pontificating on the many reasons why it would never come to fruition. After listening to his concerns my only advice was to get out of the car and go for a walk in the rain. What is there to loose?
Later that summer, after the remaining snow had mostly melted, we headed back up to climb the Upper Exum route with a small group of friends. I handed Sage the end of the rope and told her that it was her turn to guide us up the 1,500' ridge to the summit. While she initially hesitated, she knew that I believed in her and that she had the experience to succeed.
Had we not stepped into the rain on the 4th of July it is likely she would have handed the rope back to me and said, “not yet.”
