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Climbing big piles of rock one gummy bear at a time, join me for the ride!

Saturday, February 10, 2024

Why We Rise

Why do I bounce out of bed like I've got springs in my ass at 3 AM when gearing up for a mountain ascent? Yet, when it comes to dragging myself out for work, the cold air feels unbearable? These questions, that have perplexed me for years, resurface. As the coffee brews, I layer up and shove pre-made pancakes in my mouth just to get the chance to stare at the sun illuminating the sky as it peaks over the mountaintops.

Watching the sky change colors on top of a big pile of rocks is incredible but there is more unexplainable motivation than just watching a sunrise. Get up for priceless views, get up for fresh tracks, get up to chase a sensation you might never attain. Get up because that little voice in the back of your head will pester you forever about what could've been. Paint memories that stretch beyond your imagination.

You'll be in awe at just how foreign a place, you thought you knew so well, can look in the moonlight. It's quite humbling to re-explore somewhere you've already fallen in love with all over again. I’ve found myself walking alongside drunk tourists in the pre-dawn, yet they’re wandering out of casinos and I’m wandering to a mountain, which adds to the absurdity of it all. Ascend a familiar trail under the stars or skin up a resort with a fortunate open uphill policy, and appreciate that gift of a moment of pure presence.

Venture into the silence of the night, where encounters with critters, both small and menacing (always be prepared), become part of your narrative. Cherish the encounters with like-minded souls who also enjoy sacrificing sleep for experience. Recently, I made a friend who was also skinning up Heavenly Ski Resort at 7 PM, and he taught me how to drag my toes on the ground instead of picking up my feet to be more efficient. He transitioned not long after, and we parted ways before I decided on seeing just how far I could make it that night.

As I continue my climb, jamming out to tunes of the nostalgic “dad music” I grew up on, a kid in a snowmaking uniform pulls up next to me on a snowmobile and asks if I want a ride to the top. I scream in his face, “ARE YOU F***ING KIDDING ME BRO?” I immediately hop on, and this 22-year-old kid begins telling me about what seems like the most amazing job in the world — ripping the snowmobile around the resort under the stars every single night. Ten minutes later, I am standing alone at the top of the tallest chair on the resort, staring down at the twinkling lights of South Lake Tahoe’s nightlife.

Do this once, and all of a sudden your brain begins to cook up all kinds of outrageous adventures you could put together under the stars… or maybe just my brain? The question arises repeatedly—why does the idea of venturing into the dark or planning grand multi-day expeditions appeal to me while it may be another's worst nightmare? I've only ever been able to come to the conclusion that there's just something different about the way my brain works, but I’m ok being different and will enjoy a lifetime finding out what that something is. I believe you only start to relish this feeling of planning absurd challenges after having experienced lonely mornings in the forest, meeting strangers and trail angels, or the sense of accomplishment of looking down from the summit at the hours it took you to reach that point.

I rise, because even as I type this with one hand after breaking my arm in a skiing accident, something inside nudges me to strap into my snowshoes at midnight and explore the unknown. I rise to witness the miracle that is a sunrise in one of the most breathtaking places on the planet, Lake Tahoe. I rise to have an experience many people will never know. I rise because I fear living in regret.

Pause for a brief moment to reflect on the last sunrise you experienced and recall the emotions it stirred within you. Awe, inspiration, gratitude, tranquility—this list could go on forever. Nobody I know has ever wished they stayed in bed instead of watching a sunrise, no matter how many times they might've already seen it before. Each day, the sky paints itself a brand new masterpiece, and I want to be one of the lucky ones who catches as many as I can.

Embark on solo adventures, engage in conversations with friends and strangers alike—seek as many perspectives as the stars in the night sky, and you may uncover the profound reasons behind your own dawn ascent. If, like me, you find the question lingering in the recesses of your thoughts, consider planning a grander adventure. Give yourself the chance to unveil the answers waiting in the vast expanse of exploration. Do yourself a favor, rise early and witness the sunrise tomorrow.