Guest Blogger, Craig, and his views on the Failed Second Attempt at the Ptarmigan Traverse)

 

Gratitude.  As we walked out of the Cascade Mountains 24 hours overdue–knowing there were worried family members to call, flights to rebook, and meetings to reschedule–the strongest feeling I recall is gratitude. Gratitude for the opportunity to experience mountaineering in a way that tested my physical, emotional and intellectual limits, gratitude for teammates who were strong when I was weak, and gratitude that I made it through that valley because of my teammates.

Some context might help. The Ptarmigan Traverse is an unmarked, semi-technical, high mountain route in the North Cascade mountains. Its most remote point is about 25 miles from the nearest paved road. Climbers typically complete it in 4-5 days. One and half days into our second attempt, due to weather and other issues, we bailed on the route and took a “short cut” back to the car. The adjusted plan was to work three miles down an unmarked valley to link up with a known trail and hike the 12 miles back to the starting trail head. That’s where the real adventure began.

I don’t have the skill to accurately describe the various trials we faced over the next several days, nor do I really want to embarrass myself with accounts of me at my weakest (there’s probably some rule somewhere about not doing that when writing as a guest blogger). Suffice it to say that it was probably the biggest physical and mental challenge I have ever faced.  The route took us through miles of nearly impassible thickets of alder, some difficult traverses and descents, and hypothermic cold and rain.  Even the ranger we met on the out hike said, “You came from WHERE?”

While it’s easy to make light of the experience now, the thoughts and emotions that flooded in during the months following ran the full gamut–from a sense of personal failure to an enormous sense of accomplishment. But when the dust settled and the lens of reality came into focus–the single greatest lesson from this trip was the value of team.  Alone, each of us would have been in big trouble in that valley.  Together, though, our team pushed through unimaginable undergrowth, found routes, procured water, fed each other and established a makeshift campsite on an old gravel slide.  We couldn’t give up when we wanted to because our teammates depended on us.

Every possible positive outcome from that experience was due directly to the unique strengths and differing personality traits of each team member. The whole was truly greater than the sum of its parts. It was confidence in the team that inspired the trip. It was serving the team the helped give me a sense of purpose. It was trust in the team that got me home safely. And my honest post mortem conversations about this trip with Eric began a journey of discovery for us about what the mountains really teach us about teamwork and leadership.

I’m not sure how I feel about the label “Team Patriarch,” but I really like the label “Team Member”– it carries a much deeper meaning for me now.