diabetic climber Archives

Jeffrey Lash: Catching air, crushing diabetes!

By MainAdmin on May 21, 2013 in LivingVertical

I want to thank Jeffrey for sharing yet another trip report and his photos with all of us. I met Jeffrey through our Facebook Page where I learned that he has reconnected to climbing at age 32 after a diagnosis with type 1 diabetes this past fall (Black Friday 2012). I was immediately inspired when he shared his story with me and how his approach to management and adjustment was all about teamwork, positivity and determination to find a way to get after it. I am excited to be able to share this guest post and content from others like us who are living powerfully with diabetes in the vertical world. (Steve)

Jeffrey Lash

“We’re going camping!” I reminded Jenny about every 20 minutes on our four-hour ride. We rarely get a chance to vacation, but after seemingly endless months of grad school, Jenny finally had a well-deserved week off. Our trips never stray too far from the Mid-Atlantic vicinity; family and friends stretch between Norfolk and New York City. However on this vacation we headed to the mountains. Destination: Seneca Rocks, WV.

Seneca Rocks is where I began climbing in 1994 as an awkward high school freshman. My father felt it might be nice to try an outdoorsy, non-team related activity. He enrolled us in an intro to climbing class at Seneca, and we were hooked. My dad, brother, and I would climb every weekend we could for the next four years. Unfortunately, as I moved out, started working, and went to college, the climbing tapered off. The last time I’d been to Seneca was probably fifteen years ago. I was beyond excited to relive those memories and share them with Jennifer; this was already shaping up to be a very special trip.

As a grad student Jenny gets out to climb maybe once every couple months. She’s competent at top roping moderates, but she’s never climbed anything more than 60 or 70 feet. I wanted her to have some multi-pitch experience beforehand, so the week prior we drove out to Harpers Ferry and climbed a few two-pitch routes on Maryland Heights. She seemed quite at ease belaying from ledges and rappelling, so I felt pretty confident having her follow some 5.easies at Seneca.

My goals for the trip were twofold. Firstly, I wanted to lead Jenny to the South Peak summit. My dad and I climbed to the summit in ’94, but we’ve never made it back since. Secondly, I wanted to see if the climbing school still had the summit register from 1994.

I can’t remember if we had even signed it back then, but if we did, Dad would be thrilled to see a picture of our entry. As the trip approached the forecast looked grim. I took that Thursday and Friday off work, but the weather seemed to disapprove. Friday called for thunderstorms and high winds, but that wasn’t going to stop us. I had some backup plans in mind if we were completely washed out.

Seneca Rocks WV

Thursday morning we set out on our journey and made it to Seneca by late afternoon. Even the drive was nostalgic for me. I could recognize some of the turns and barns and farms along the way. Upon arriving we setup camp, packed a small bag, and hiked up to visit Seneca’s North Peak. The switchback trail is a mile and a half and rises a thousand feet above the town. We scrambled along the top, tried to pick out our tent in the distance, and snacked. I showed Jenny where I first climbed and some of the routes like Streptococcus, a steep 5.9* I don’t think I ever made it up. The sun was hanging low in the sky so we hiked back down. Each time we faced the rocks I quizzed Jenny on the different faces and features. As we neared the end of the trail a shirtless runner passed us on his way up the mountain. Jenny and I snickered and scoffed at his blatant athleticism. We returned to camp and made some dinner and settled in for the night. We had the entire campgrounds to ourselves. It was a nice change from the city; we could look up and see so many more stars.

Friday morning was rough. During the restless night I remembered how much trouble I had sleeping in tents. Jenny and I made coffee and ate breakfast. Since we would be facing poor weather later, I only wanted to get one climb in for the day. I didn’t want to get all caught up in a downpour, so I chose a single pitch route at the South End of Seneca, Candy Corner, a 5.6*. We made the short hike in and crossed paths with another few other climbers on Totem. Totem is where Dad and I were first taught how to lead climb and place protection. I started up Candy Corner and it was fantastic. A couple spots gave me some pause, but I was able to figure out the moves. The climb follows a narrow dihedral and the end of a Skyline Buttress. The first section is a ramp but quickly rises to vertical with a couple bulges. I’m a decent 5.9 climber but that was a tricky for a 5.6. I must not have remembered the grades at Seneca are a bit stiff. Jenny followed up to the belay ledge without any trouble at all. I was impressed and so proud of her. We looked across the road to the Souther Pillar and another party climbing Roy Gap Chimneys. Jenny and I rapped off, packed up, snooped around Seneca’s “cave”, and then hiked out.

Senecas Cave

I decided to stop by the climbing school to ask about the register, and I was met by a familiar looking trail runner, haha. After introductions Rob said I should check back tomorrow and ask for Diane. He asked if we were climbing today. I mentioned we did Candy Corner, just one and done. “Oh, we were on Roy Gap Chimneys watching you!” he exclaimed. We chatted a bit more before Jenny and I headed back to our tent for the impending storm. The rain beat down on us for a good two hours, and the wind was trying its hardest to sweep away our tarp. We survived. After the storm passed a few other campers arrived and pitched tents.

Saturday morning started much like Friday morning: I was again exhausted from lack of sleep. My initial plan for the day was to lead Jenny up Skyline Traverse, then take Conn’s West to the summit, but with the wind still whipping through the valley I didn’t think Jenny would have too much fun hundreds of feet in the air trying to climb without being blown off the rock. So we decided to head to the Lower Slabs for some top rope fun. Before we hiked in, I stopped by the climbing school again and met Diane. We flipped through maybe a dozen registers she had on hand but could only find entries as far back as 1995. So close! I was mildly disappointed, but at the same time I wasn’t even sure if we signed it in the first place, oh well. We still had a chance to achieve our first goal. So back up the North Peak trail we went. I couldn’t remember ever climbing the Lower Slabs before, so this felt new and exciting. We dropped an anchor on Scuttle, a 5.7* crack. The crux is getting off the ground and onto a narrow ledge 10 feet up. The rest of the crack is pleasant with an off-width section near the top. We both send it without issue. I pulled the rope and decided to lead it just for good measure. Jenny cleans the route, but the start gave her much more trouble on the second go. That happens to us often. We broke down Scuttle and moved up the hill to Discrepancy, a 5.8* crack with a superb finger lock. This was a great route, very challenging but doable for us. Jenny had to sit at a couple spots to figure out the sequence but she muscled through it and reached to the top. From the same anchors I wanted to try The Warlock, a 5.9+* face just to the left of Discrepancy. This was a tough route. Very thin and blank at the bottom, but a little more forgiving as you trend up and right towards Discrepancy. I had to sit on it twice to work out the crux. I’d love to return and ‘send it clean, something to look forward to. After The Warlock I wanted to cool down and lead another 5.easy. At the other end of the slabs was Wap Suck #4, a 5.4 “vegetated corner with dead tree”. As the name implies, it sucked. A pretty unremarkable climb, only to be punctuated by an even worse descent. Once at the top we had to traverse back across the slabs to a hardly visible rappel tree. We bushwhacked through thickets, over rotting trees, on top of loose rock and moss. Jenny was probably more gripped than she let on. We reached the rappel and made it down safely to our packs vowing never to return to that debacle. We hiked out and drove back to our tent to find the campground bustling.

Jeffrey climbing “The Warlock” 5.9+

Saturday was our last night camping; we had one more day to make it up the South Peak. I’ll admit, I was a bit nervous. Since my climbing hiatus, I’ve only been at it for a year and a half. I still feel like I’m learning and relearning new things with each trip. When it comes to climbing I tend to be a bit pragmatic, cautious, and realistic. I’ll top-rope just about anything, but I only like leading routes I know for sure are well within my abilities. Especially when visiting new areas or crags, I feel much more at ease with someone who’s been there before and ‘knows the ropes’. Furthermore, I’ve only been climbing with diabetes for four months. I haven’t climbed anything more than two pitches or needed to bring up my meter with me for any extended time. Thinking about taking care of all that mess, dialing in my insulin doses, climbing with a pack, and what snacks to pack just consumed my brain. I felt like I was dragging the love of my life into uncharted territory. I stayed up with the flashlight reading and re-reading the guidebook, studying the route descriptions and descents until I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer.

Sunday morning was a little easier to wake up. Jenny and I had coffee and oatmeal again. Since we had to drive home that evening I felt we should skip Skyline Traverse and just hike up the ‘Stair Master’ right to the West Face. In preparation for a long day of climbing, the night before I took only half of my daily insulin. And in preparation for Stair Master I halved my mealtime insulin with breakfast as well. Jenny and I racked up and started in. We passed a bunch of other climbers at the parking area taking their time. We made it up the road, across the stream, and began the arduous Stair Master. As we passed the Ecstasy Buttress we noticed a climber hanging out way up at the first belay ledge. We continued on. To reach Conn’s West you must climb the first pitch of Old Man’s Route, a long traversing 5.3*. Jenny and I arrived at Old Man’s to find a father and son following their climbing instructor to the summit. I chatted with the father for a minute as his boy, age 11, was doggy paddling up the blocky ledges. I told him about my dad and I, it was quite nice. In the mean time Jenny was a little more concerned with staying warm while waiting for the sun to heat up the West Face. As we waited, all my fears and apprehension from the night before vanished. The climbing didn’t look that steep. It didn’t look that high. Didn’t even look that hard! I mean, if this eleven year old could do it…. As the father moved off the first belay ledge it was our turn to climb. We tied in, changed shoes and were off. The first pitch of Old Man’s was pretty straight-forward, easy, ledgy, fun. I belayed Jenny up without issue. From here we were at the bottom of two corners, one on to the left was an off-width/chimney flake/corner and to the right was a crack corner with two trees. Both lead right up to our next belay ledge.

So Conn’s West is a 5.4* and the book describes it as being to the right of a 5.9 off-width corner, Clarke’s Climb. Both these corners looked like fun and doable so I set off past the two trees. The route was decent enough, but about half way up the stances for placing gear were getting a bit awkward. At the next piece my arms were starting to feel it. Then at the next I needed to rest and shake out. I sunk a Metolius #4 cam into a solid diagonal crack on the right side of the corner, called down to Jenny to “Take”, and had a seat. At this point I was thinking this may not be the 5.4 after all. Jenny asked how it was going and I said, “It’s tricky for sure, but the belay is just right up there.” Maybe 6 or 7 feet above me was a little platform then another 8 or 9 feet was the belay ledge. After my arms relinquish I started moving again. Trying to layback the corner wasn’t all that positive but I finally got a right hand up to that 2 by 2 foot platform. My left arm was elbow deep behind a flake in the crack, I smeared my right foot to get a right elbow over the edge, as my left foot slipped. I caught myself but at this point my shoulders were hunched onto this little platform and I couldn’t see my feet. I saw a sharp little horn in the back corner and wrapped my right fingers around it, only for a split sec “Falling!”

Boom, done, over. Before I could even finish “ing!” I was hanging from the end of the rope, fifteen feet below a just moment ago. I looked up. There’s the #4 still in that crack. I looked down. Jenny asked if I was alright. “Yeah. just gimme a minute.” It was a clean fall, I didn’t get flipped, nor did I swing into the rock. I hung there for a moment collecting my thoughts. Well, there’s a first time for everything. I pulled myself back up to the piece using the rope, swapped out the draw for a biner and had Jenny lower me back to the belay ledge. I was completely gripped and my arms were super pumped. I was not about to try that again. Even if I could make it, Jenny would even have more trouble getting through all that mess. I was so shaky I felt like my blood sugar was in the basement. Jenny retrieved my kit and I checked my glucose. 156. I guess good old adrenaline was the culprit. I tethered into the anchor, struggled to untie my eight, pulled the rope out of the cam above, and then tied back in. I told Jenny I was about ready to just rap off and head home. “Really?” she asked. I could hear the surprise and disappointment in her voice. “Lemme look around the corner.” I went back on belay and traversed 10 feet to our left, to the off-width/chimney flake/corner. Right as I got there a helmet popped up at my feet. “Hey there” I said. “I saw you take that whipper” he replied, “You get your piece out?” “No, its still up there for someone more deserving,” I joked. “Ah, don’t be so hard on yourself” We chatted for a minute, Matt confirmed they were on Conn’s West and we were on some 5.7, the name of which he couldn’t recall. Jenny and I waited for Matt and Skip to climb through and we queued up behind them. This pitch was clearly easier, although climbing the chimney with a pack was still quite cumbersome. At the belay, I was going to lower off to retrieve my cam but there was already another party below us and I didn’t want to hold anyone else up. Jenny followed the chimney pitch like a champ. The last pitch was Conn’s West Direct Finish, a 5.5 south facing corner, and the first bit of sunshine we felt all day. A couple spots gave me hesitation but it was a nice climb. Jenny enjoyed the interesting cracks and features. As we reached the last belay,Matt and Skip were all ready to rappel down. Matt said if he were able to ‘King Swing’ over he’d grab my cam for me. I told him I appreciated the gesture but I’d snag it on the way down.

Jenny and Jeffrey on the summit-enjoying the win!

Jenny and I scrambled the last little bits to the summit. It was all of 5.0/5.1 caliber, but I stayed roped up and on belay to keep Jenny at ease. We had the South Peak to ourselves for a bit. We ate a snack, took in the view, snapped some photos, and signed a new entry into the summit register. It was almost 4:30 and I was ready to get going. A few others reached the summit as we departed. We scrambled back to the rappel station and began our decent, three rappels to solid ground. A party below us relayed up that my cam was below waiting for me. At the last station I was happy to see that #4 hanging from the chains.

Insulin and blood glucose meter are only some of the tools we rely on to survive in the mountains. This shiny little marvel of engineering caught Jeffrey’s fall!

Jenny and I reached the bottom, changed shoes and made our way back to the Stair Master. The way down took quite a toll on my knees, but we made it out. Driving back to our campsite we passed a car parked by the restrooms. There was Skip sitting in the passenger seat. I pulled over and the four of us talked for a while. Matt told me how much difficulty Ecstasy, another 5.7, gave him that morning. I mentioned how we saw Skip up there as we hiked in. I thanked them again for retrieving my gear and offered to buy them a round. They declined because of the long drive ahead of them. Jenny vowed to pay it forward. We went on to break down camp, pack the car, and grab a bite to eat at the Front Porch Restaurant. I took another look at the guidebook and there it was, Conn’s West Corner Start, a 5.7 dihedral with two small trees near the base. Not sure how I missed reading that the night before, but oh well. It definitely made the trip a bit more interesting. Jenny and I finished dinner as the sun set. We hopped in the car and headed home thoroughly exhausted.

Boom. This picture says it all-diabetes empowerment and a wonderful climbing experience-what a great message to leave in the summit register.

I’ll admit, my eyes welled up as we drove off. I was just so incredibly happy to share such a fun, exciting, and challenging experience with my love, Jennifer. And to give her a first hand tour to some of my fondest childhood memories. I was so proud and thankful for her patience and positivity. From battling the camp stove, to a torrential downpour, from treacherous bushwhacking, to catching my fall, Jennifer was by my side, encouraging me every step of the way. Without her, that trip would have been a miserable disaster. Thank you, dear, for such an amazing time.

What originates on a farm but doesn’t smell like one? (my shirt, for one)

By MainAdmin on May 16, 2013 in LivingVertical

About two days ago, summer arrived in Zion. It had been spring for the allotted week or so that usually falls just between the damp and clammy chills of winter and the scorching summer heat. As it turns out, this transitional time is a pretty opportune chance to put to the test a new piece of clothing! Ibex Wool offered me a shirt and told me to do my worst to it-just to see how it performed (you can see their new, fully interactive e-catalog here).

I have never been one to turn down a good opportunity, and I have always been a huge fan of wool. A few weeks back it was typical “wool weather”- a bit chilly and blustery-but this shirt has really come into its own as the springtime transition occurred and the searing heat arrived. You might think that this would be the time to put wool away for the winter, in favor of lighter, cooler fabrics. Well, you’d be wrong!

During Project 365 I spent a lot of time paring my clothing down to the bare essentials in order to travel light, so I like to think that I know somewhat about minimalism-and I like to avoid taking time away from my climbing and video editing to do laundry (to say nothing about the environmental issues surrounding water usage in the desert). So, having a shirt that I have been able to wear for over two weeks without washing is a good and useful thing. Now, before you recoil in horror, wondering how I can live with myself with such a skewed set of priorities, let me assure you that this shirt smells as good as the day I took it out of the package.

Not that smelling good is always the biggest priority when you are climbing hard or hiking, but it certainly doesn’t hurt when you factor in the following other obvious benefits of the Ibex wool line:

wicks moisture
fast drying
organic/biodegradable
SUPER durable
keeps you cool in the heat

It’s not itchy (a classic wool stereotype) and actually feels super soft and smooth. It’s also not stiflingly hot because it breathes remarkably well while still blocking the suns heat (I won’t pretend to understand how or why this occurs, but I am happy that it works-oh-it’s also burly enough to stand up to all the abuse of climbing (and helping Rob of Zion Jeeps with some of the heavy lifting and engine work). Thin enough to stay cool, tough enough to stay together.

These shirts aren’t cheap to buy-as is the case with most things that are well made. And that may not be a bad thing if you think about it-I can’t necessarily afford to have the biggest and most beautiful car or house-but I figure that if I can have high quality essentials that really affect my ability to climb and take my diabetes adventuring, then I can still have luxury where I depend on it most. Plus…you can sell all your other t-shirts on ebay once you have a couple of these-they’re that good.

*I didn’t get any money to write this review and I wasn’t coerced into sharing my opinion or altering it. I got a shirt and was told to try it out and see what I thought. Wool is where it’s at, and Ibex makes tough stuff. That’s what I thought. Just sayin’. Now I plan to keep wearing this shirt for another several weeks, just to make sure I wasn’t being premature in my assertions here-so you might want to follow us on Facebook and Twitter just to make sure you catch all the diabetes desert fun (read:suffering) as it unfolds!

Nothing fancy, just diabetes on a friday night.

By MainAdmin on May 14, 2013 in LivingVertical

It’s Friday night and everyone in town is out at Karaoke. Springdale UT is a small town, and most everyone in town knows me as the stick in the mud that can’t be convinced to go out and party. I’m not really worried about being seen as a curmudgeon right now though-I am staring at my Dexcom which has been showing a downward arrow for the last half hour.

110.

98.

87.

74.

We are still southbound and this pain train doesn’t want to slow down. After 14 years I have seen some low numbers. But the feeling of rapidly falling blood glucose levels is unmistakeable. It’s comparable to that feeling you get a split second after you see the cop and realize that you were driving 20 over the limit. Impending doom-only worse because you’re not thinking about money, you’re thinking about the fact that all your friends are out getting s—t-faced and they might come back to find you unconscious. Or worse.

My blood sugar is plummeting and I only took two units of insulin. I wasn’t super active and I didn’t forget to eat. I’m grilling myself trying to think what I did wrong. What did I do to make this happen. I am supposed to be a role model. I should be able to do better.

I begin to think about what I have heard or what I have told people in the past. I try to maintain my grip on panic and avoid gorging. I am determined to take it down to the wire and correct perfectly. I have eaten some “correction carbs” and now I just have to wait for them to hit my bloodstream so my sugar will start to rise. This waiting period is the great divide, the dark before the dawn, the leap of faith. You have eaten what you know you need to correct, but those minutes before it hits your bloodstream and makes you “feel” it-those are the hardest moments for me in relation to my diabetes.

What if I didn’t eat enough? What if my sugar doesn’t come up? What if I’m falling too fast? What if I go unconscious? There are several minutes during the mental grappling match that ensues while you wait-during which you are forced to confront the realization that if you don’t treat this low correctly, you could die. There is the ultimate realization that for all the support that exists in the diabetes community, or from my friends or spouse- I face this battle entirely alone in this moment.

It seems like hours, but the clock on my phone confirms about 10 minutes have passed by the time I begin to feel the “crash” subsiding. I am starting to emerge on the other side of this low, and sharing my experience on Instagram makes me feel better, makes me feel more connected. Knowing that other people are out there with me going through the same thing makes me feel stronger and more confident. I passed through the test, and I am reconnected with the world.

I feel like I have been reborn. I am not a victim of diabetes, and I do not suffer from it. I have just climbed a horrendous runout, and taken the whip. I have faced the fear, and while it felt awful in the moment, confronting that risk has given me more skills to overcome that fear on my next attempt. Diabetes is my training ground for the mountains. It is a privilege to struggle, not a burden.

Many people don’t see the connection between climbing and diabetes. Both are misunderstood. Both are constant risk management. Both have physical and mental implications based on the effectiveness of said risk management. Both force you to confront fear and manage it in moments of serious crisis. Both involve stacking the odds in your favor by leveraging constants against variables.

Hmmm…come to think of it, they don’t have that much in common…

Project 365, still making waves!

By MainAdmin on May 9, 2013 in LivingVertical

A short time ago, Duracell created this video below, with our help, to promote the diabetes empowerment message of Project 365. Back in the beginning of the project when Stefanie and I were packing up our lives possessions into the Dragon Wagon, she jokingly said, “Someday you will be in ‘one of those Duracell commercials’”. I laughed it off and didn’t even give it a second thought. Now, a year and a half later, we are reaching more people than we ever thought possible with the message that life with diabetes is still about LIFE! This was a really big step for us and while it has been exciting, it has stirred up a little controversy.

Today I was looking at the video post on Duracell’s Facebook page and found a comment that made me feel like clarifying a few of the salient points surrounding Project 365 that might not be apparent from a 30 second highlight reel. This comment was probably not worth responding to, but Project 365 is my baby. It has been and still IS my life. I do not suffer fools gladly:

“Good for him WHITE MIDDLE UPPER CLASS, can go around the world, enjoying himself, without having to worry about daily survival in a factory, or living in the slum in a war zone, hey MONEY TALKS, and makes more money advertising and being sponsored -easy ride baby!”

I don’t really entertain internet “flame wars” but the person making the comment is correct about my ethnicity and not much else. I have done a lot of soul searching about the opportunities I have had, and I am always conscious of the fact that I have been blessed to have been able to complete the project despite all of the sacrifices it has entailed and the fact that we had no monetary sponsorship in Project 365 from the outset besides what our friends and family contributed because they believed in our idea of diabetes empowerment.

Having said that, my response to the idea that Project 365 has been a cakewalk based on my ethnicity or “economic privilege” followed thusly:

“Not that a person’s color or wealth should matter, but I’m married to a woman who is not white, Stefanie Richert, and I am sure she would be happy to share some stories of the “easy ride” that our life has been, sleeping in rest areas in my car, for months at a time, couch surfing and living in the dirt. Not that I am complaining-we chose that life because we wanted to do what we could, where we were to make a difference about how people with diabetes see themselves and their possibilities in life.

You are accurate in saying that I dont work in a factory or live in a war zone. I am not going to apologize for that fact, but I will say that I have always felt empathy for those who really suffer, and part of my mission is to have enough visibility to be able to bring aid and support to those less fortunate. Its difficult or even impossible to make a difference on another continent if you haven’t started first with what is in your own back yard.

Lastly, not that it should matter, but since you seem to be hung up on the concept of sponsorship, Stefanie and I took on this project without a single sponsor to start, funded by friends and family and by selling all the “stuff” we had that wasn’t integral to climbing. We were living out of her parents basement at the time, married for 4 years. She was bartending and I was a part time teacher.

Im not sure if answering your complaints is useful or if you even care-I know that it is much easier to make snap judgements than to really examine the people you choose to tear down-and that is totally your call. I don’t think I deserve credit or praise for anything I have done. I have been incredibly blessed to have these opportunities and I try to use them as best I can. “

In closing, I am still excited for the visibility that diabetes empowerment is gaining, through ALL of the channels available to us. I can only hope to find more projects and more ways to extend the impact further afield-so if you are out there lurking on this blog post, hating on the fact that I am finally able to put a roof over my head for the first time in my adult life, shoot me an email about a way that together we can do something to help make a bigger difference. It’s usually more effective that way.

Unsuspecting adventure

By MainAdmin on May 7, 2013 in LivingVertical

Over the last few weeks I have been slammed with work-which is good because it’s always good to be busy. There are lots of new things coming along between SweetestSummit programs gelling and opportunities for LivingVertical-and of course, the daily grind of editing the documentary from Project 365. I can say without question that the physical challenge of Project 365 (climbing every day plus balancing blood sugar!) was every bit as difficult as making this movie. It is like a complex maze in which you can’t tell just how lost you are until you have wandered around for days-by which point your frame of reference is completely gone!

So this weekend I decided to step away from the computer and spend time with some friends out climbing and adventuring. On friday I headed out with Chris and Rob to climb a lesser traveled route on the east side of Zion called “Led by Sheep”. We all swapped off turns carrying the camera and it felt good to get a few hundred feet off the ground and onto a beautiful summit that feels quite remote!

Rob and Chris on the approach above Petroglyph Canyon

More from the approach up the white sandstone

overlooking petroglyph canyon on the approach.

A quick blood sugar measurement before getting roped up at the base of the route (Photo Chris Mahoney)

A quick blood sugar measurement before getting roped up at the base of the route (Photo: C. Jon Mahoney)

I should mention here that I am always a bit concerned with transitions; going from sitting at a computer predominately for the last few weeks to a weekend of climbing can cause my sensitivity to insulin to shift. This can create unexpected highs or lows which can be very problematic on days like this. But I was pleased to find that my sugar was around 130 when I tested after the approach which was perfect for me-room to go up or down a little without any problem!

Starting up the base of the route to the first pitch, Rob belaying me. (Photo: Chris Mahoney

Starting up the base of the route to the first pitch, Rob belaying me. (Photo: C. Jon Mahoney)

This route was not steep-it felt a lot more like mountaineering than rock climbing. “Rockaneering” is a common term for this sort of climbing where simply pulling hard is not the point (or even possible due to the low angle) (Photo: C. Jon Mahoney)

After clipping the first bolt the “business” started. It was physically quite manageable, but there were some places where bolts were 30 feet apart and falling was not an option. (Photo: C. Jon Mahoney)

I wore my approach shoes for the route and found that they were sufficient-there were some places where it was a bit scary having to make moves in larger shoes, but despite the distance between many of the bolts, there was always a bolt where a hard move demanded protection-so while it WAS in reality runout, it didn’t feel like it. (Photo: C. Jon Mahoney)

It was so fun to just be up high off the ground, not worrying about editing video or getting permits or overhauling websites! (Photo: Chris Mahoney)

It was so fun to just be up high off the ground, not worrying about editing video or getting permits or overhauling websites! (Photo: C. Jon Mahoney)

Just Rob. (Photo: C. Jon Mahoney)

Chris belaying Rob up the final pitch.

Chris and Rob taking in the views from the summit of Aries Butte.

Capturing some sunshine to recharge on the summit-thanks to Goal Zero for the power! (Photo: C. Jon Mahoney)

Rob and I found the summit register and we all added our names to the collection of people who have stood on this summit. (Photo: C. Jon Mahoney)

After this adventure I headed out to Las Vegas to pick up my middle-school friend Aaron who I hadn’t seen in over ten years. He and I had reconnected during Project 365 and we had been trying to find an opportunity to get together so he could try out climbing for the first time-Zion style!

Aaron climbing Ashtar Command in Zion National Park.

But the “real” adventure this past weekend began after we got done climbing and decided to do some photography. We wanted our last day to be a rest day and we all enjoy taking photos, so we decided to explore areas outside the park proper where there would be fewer people.

Aaron getting a different perspective of the Virgin River

Driftwood

We drove my car (Honda CRV) up to the Kolob Reservoir which is on the west side of the park and rarely visited, relative to the main canyon. The Kolob area is pretty remote and we decided that it would be fun to follow the dirt roads around the reservoir to get some photos. It looked like the road went all the way around, so we figured we could just circumnavigate the water. The difference in elevation between our current location and Zion canyon was about 4000 feet-and it was properly cold where we were.

We were enjoying just looking at the aquatic birds as we drove next to the water without a care in the world. Until we came to a point where the road was washed out. Chris got out and ran ahead, testing the depth of the water and scouting a line that I could drive through this “obstacle”. He guided me through the first washout without a great deal of difficulty. On the other side I felt relieved to have made it through-until we drove around the next corner to find another similar obstacle that was even muddier, wetter and right at the edge of the lake.

We repeated the procedure from the first obstacle-and the subsequent disappointment of realizing that we were not “in the clear” several times over. By this point we started to realize that our assumption that “the road will get better and we can just drive on around” was getting less realistic. And the last several muddy, rutted sections of the road were so risky that going back was getting to be less and less feasible of an option.

IMG 2556 from Living Vertical on Vimeo.

It looked like the road went all the way around from the other side. It should go. One more section of steep mud, rocks and roots.

I tried not to think about what would happen if we got stuck out here. There was no cell service and no one around. Oh-and then the gas light came on. And then it started to rain, which would make the mud even more difficult to navigate. After narrowly passing our seventh obstacle, Chris got out to walk the next bit of the road—and came back with great news: “The road dead ends here-there’s a barbed wire fence and no way to get around it”.

We had to find a way to turn the car around on a mangled dirt road and then reverse our course through a minefield of mud, rocks and exposed tree roots-which were bordered by the edge of the reservoir, which loomed on one side, threatening to punish any error in driving.

How do I get myself into these situations? It looked passable. What if…

I had expended my daily quota of adrenaline. I was pretty sure I was about to be stranded in a very inopportune place with my friends who had just wanted a fun afternoon of shooting photos…If the terrain didn’t get us, surely the gas would run out-or vice versa. So I asked Chris to take a shot at reversing our course and rescuing us. Off road driving isnt my strong point. I was totally out of my element and I was starting to freak out. I can be comfortable on the side of a cliff, hundreds of feet up, but this situation was simply too far outside my comfort zone.

Fear is a very relative thing. Many people assume from my love for climbing that I don’t have fear or that I have conquered it to the point that I can just do any old thing without too much effort. This is far from the truth, and I was gripped for the entirety of this “adventure”. Fortunately, Chris was able to take over and put his USMC off road driving training to good use…and he made the reversal look really easy. We were soon out of the dirt and mud and back on the pavement where we were able to coast on “E” down 15 miles to the nearest gas station.

It always an adventure out here-but its great being able to share those adventures with friends. I pushed my limits outside of where I was comfortable. My horizon got just a little bit bigger this weekend.

D-Family Adventure Weekend 2013 and Project365 film premiere!

By MainAdmin on April 30, 2013 in LivingVertical

Juggling is a new skill set for me. Editing the documentary for hours a day while working out permits and camp logistics for this summers SweetestSummit D-Family Adventure Weekend while we are getting websites overhauled, and trying to grow the outreach of SweetestSummit-and attending community events like the JDRF Hope and Health event in Orange Cty CA! Climbing has taken a backseat for now-although that is a temporary adjustment necessary to get things up and running.

And while “up and running” may be an ongoing process for some time, it is coming along. There are five spots that can be spoken for and reserved before we actually being the registration process. Many of the salient points are in the image below-and further questions are always welcome!

Join us!

Also, if you look closely, you will notice that Sunday July 28th WILL BE THE PREMIER OF THE PROJECT365 DOCUMENTARY!!!! Our goal was to share the first finished viewing of the documentary with the families attending the first adventure weekend we are running-and to share the results of that first program with those of you who are able to make it to Springdale UT to attend the premiere! Mark your calendars, it’s going to be a great weekend!

SweetestSummit

By MainAdmin on April 16, 2013 in LivingVertical

The last week has been quiet on the blog-but things have been busy nonetheless. As you know from the previous blog, we have been dealing with the differing directions available to us and began moving forward with plans to host our first outdoor adventure program for families with diabetes in Zion National Park from July 24-29th.

This new development left us at a momentary impasse-one organization with a lot of different “things on its plate” would not do justice to the awareness efforts of Project365 or the actual activity programs we want to run starting in July. The reality is that Project365 was only scratching the surface of what I have had in mind for similar awareness projects-and running a four-day adventure program only scratches the surface of the activities we are poised to offer for people with diabetes. What to do?

LivingVertical originally began with the intent of offering adventure programs-Project365 was going to be a vehicle to raise awareness and get people with diabetes excited about getting outside and active with us. As it turned out, Project365 and the documentary took on a life of its own and spawned the possibility to do more (and bigger!) awareness projects by including more climbers with diabetes. Rather than trying to redirect this momentum into other offerings, we believe that a second organization should stand alone to facilitate the adventure programs-and so we give you SweetestSummit!

SweetestSummit Inc is a not-for-profit adaptive guide service for people with diabetes operating in and around Zion National Park in Utah. I will be volunteering my services as a guide along with several other climbing and canyoneering experts that I have worked extensively with-professionally and recreationally-to offer exciting programs that will empower the diabetes community and bring us together through vertical adventures. SweetestSummit is a 501c3 non profit organization whose name came from the idea that the sweetest summits are the ones we can share together!

LivingVertical will continue to promote diabetes awareness through climbing and the corresponding imagery and media you have come to enjoy-as well as promoting the outdoor programming of SweetestSummit to enable PWD to DO more outdoors and push their limits in new ways. Completing the documentary and making that available to the public as a free educational resource through our website is still going to be the foremost task for now. It is scary to start a second “new” endeavor on some level-but it also seems to make a lot of sense to separate the two endeavors we are working with so that each may grow to its full potential with clarity rather than attempting to juggle roles within a single organization.

I know that every solution comes at a cost-and risk is part of that cost. From the outset I have sought to follow the simplest path that would allow the greatest impact. This transition may or may not go off like a Swiss watch, but I believe that we will sort it out and make it fly. I am so thankful for all of the support we have received so far and I can promise that this new endeavor will build on what has been accomplished so far and compliment it (and vice versa). I would like to ask for your support as we launch the SweetestSummit Facebook and Twitter accounts today-and in the coming weeks as we launch brand-spanking new websites for both LivingVertical and SweetestSummit.

This is a work in progress-a concept which at one time would have been really intimidating to me. Looking back at the arc of Project365 and seeing it grow from literally nothing but dreams, inspiration and your support-well, all I see is possibilities and opportunities now!

I want to close by thanking Daniel Quintana for donating his expertise in graphic design and creativity-he designed the SweetestSummit logo brilliantly!

The results are in!

By Steve on April 3, 2013 in LivingVertical

Last week I asked you to check out the poll on our facebook page and weigh in, sharing your opinion with us. We have been looking at a variety of different things that we can do and we are looking at how best to focus our energies.

Here are the totals!

We only had the poll up for a couple of days but clearly the majority of people are interested in seeing outdoor adventure programs FOR people with diabetes guided BY people with diabetes! The initial conception of Project 365 was as a tool to raise awareness for the importance of adventure in the treatment of diabetes-and we think we made a good dent during the last year-but we have felt strongly inclined to be able to DO more with the community, to really get people with diabetes out here with us-ultimately motivating them to find their own expertise in adventuring independently.

Many of our readers know that I worked as a commercial climbing and canyoneering guide for several years before starting LivingVertical-and working with people in a technical environment (where ropes and special gear are necessary for safety) showed me how much a days adventure could change someones life. That is what I have wanted to share with other people with diabetes and now…that is what we will do.

I also feel like it adds to the empowerment message to stress the role of people with diabetes in a leadership context outdoors, not just as participants guided by non diabetics who have only a peripheral knowledge of the condition we live with. Beyond running small trips for families living with diabetes and camps for PWD who want a taste of adventure, we will be offering mentorship clinics where PWD who want to become proficient on their own can come and learn to lead!

Many steps need to be taken to make this vision a reality, and we are in a transitionary period-but we are excited and we want to share the process of development with you as we bring this all together! Here is the information we have so far, that we would like to offer for your consideration:

What: Diabetes family adventure weekend (group camping for the family, two days of guided technical programs for the kids-climbing, hiking and canyoneering and one day of guided family exploration-and a last day wrap up meal followed by the premiere showing of the Project 365 documentary “In the Blood”!

Where: Springdale UT/Zion National Park (a scenic 2 hour drive from the Las Vegas Airport, this small town is one of the best places to take a vacation-LOTS to do and see and Springdale is small enough that you can park your car once you arrive and walk or take the free shuttles through town and into the park!)

When: July 25th (arrive thursday PM)- July 29th (depart monday AM)

Who: I will be leading all activities with assistance from one or two other guides depending on total enrollment. We will have a nurse along on all trips who is also a Type 1 Diabetic/adventure athlete. All guides will have Wilderness First Responder certification or higher and years of experience working with PWD and technical guiding in and around Zion National Park.

How: Very carefully. I have personally led over two hundred people (as young as 4 years and as old as 79 years) through these canyons over the years leading up to Project 365 and these are the places that I learned how to take my diabetes management to the next level. I know these canyons and climbing routes thoroughly and I am proud that I will be able to share them with you.

This announcement will hopefully spark some interest as we continue the process of getting the details sorted out and finalized. It will also raise many questions: Is this safe? Is this activity suitable for a 8 or 9 year old child with no experience in a desert environment? How will accommodations work? What is the cost? Is it too hot in July? The good news is that most of these questions have very simple answers and those that don’t soon will-over the coming weeks we will be addressing these and other questions by putting together a formal website dedicated to our diabetes adventure programs and registration! In the meantime, please let us know if you have interest or questions!- [email protected]. or leave us a comment here!

Climbing ‘Safe’ in Pennsylvania

By Steve on March 13, 2013 in LivingVertical

I want to thank Jeffrey for sharing the following trip report and his photos with all of us. I met Jeffrey through our Facebook Page where I learned that he has reconnected to climbing at age 32 after a diagnosis with type 1 diabetes this past fall (Black Friday 2012). I was immediately inspired when he shared his story with me and how his approach to management and adjustment was all about teamwork, positivity and determination to find a way to get after it. I am excited to be able to share this guest post and content from others like us who are living powerfully with diabetes in the vertical world. (Steve)

Meet Jeffrey: fellow “pancreatic enthusiast” and climber!

Climbing last Sunday (March 3, 2013) was kinda dumb and awesome at the same time. I’ll tell you right away, my partners Jonathan and Jillian are from New England; they are conditioned for the cold. I unfortunately, am not. The weekend’s temps were supposed to be in the mid-40′s. I was already hesitant to climb in the cold and thought I might skip out. Saturday I got their email saying they wanted to check out Safe Harbor, a sport climbing area just outside of Lancaster PA, an hour and a half north of Baltimore. I couldn’t say no and met up with them at 6:30 the next morning. There were flurries as I left my place; so— we’re off to a great start! We get there around 8am, we’re the only ones there, first to arrive. We walk to the crag to find icicles hanging from a good portion of all the blocky overhangs. Jonathan exclaimed that he should have brought his ice ax and crampons for mixed climbing!

Jonathan Jillian and Jeffrey braving northeast temperatures to get in a solid day of climbing!

Safe Harbor is a section of blasted railroad cut along the Susquehanna River, maybe 300 yards long. Only in 2011 did it officially open up to climbing and the rails were replaced with a gravel hike-n-bike trail. There are about 90 routes approx 70-90ft in height. All routes are bolted, from smooth slabs to sustained overhangs ranging 5.7-5.13. There are a LOT of stout routes. I’m not a power climber by any stretch. I love low angle, thin, technical footwork climbs. Bulges and overhangs always get me, but I’m determined to work on that as I recently purchased a hang board for training at home.

We weren’t even harnessed up yet and already pretty cold. It was probably in the high 20′s factoring in the breeze. Our first route was ‘Econoline’, a 5.8*. A smooth face climb bisected with a grassy ledge two thirds up. A decent warm up but nothing to write home about. Jonathan led it. Jillian and I TR’d it. The next route I led. It was an 8+**, ‘Eminent Domain’. By then my hands and feet were completely numb. I’ll tell you what though, it is INSANE what you’re willing to hold onto and step up on when you can not feel a thing. Talk about trusting your holds. Despite all that, I flashed it. It was a fun route for sure, thin holds, a little dihedral and mantle action at the top. Jonathan pulled the rope and led it himself. Jillian TR’d it and cleaned anchors.

Jonathan leading ‘Eminent Domain’

Jillian climbing on TR (Top Rope)

The third route was Jonathan’s pick. He chose ‘Tonga’ a 9+**. I had previously climbed last fall, but this time I was not as successful. The crux is an awkward bulge between the first and second bolt. Did I fail to mention Jonathan is 6’3″? He reaches right past the toughest move to a key flake (NO FAIR!!) Both Jillian and I flailed and bailed. In our defense, the one slopey foothold to get us to that flake was seeping water and we kept slipping right off. I hate making excuses, so I’ll be gunning for that route on my next visit.

Next Jonathan thought the route right next to him looked fun and he’d give that a whirl, ‘Wild Palms’. He sent it like a champ without knowing its rating. He came down to a surprise when I told him it was a 5.11b*! NoBigDeal! Yeah, I wasn’t even gonna bother with that mess. I’ll be honest, I’m just not there yet.***

So we thought we’d be the only climbers out, but low and behold we saw a few other partys along the cliffs. None of them lasted too long though. A pitch or two and they’d vanish. One couple described the day as, “just south of miserable“; we felt otherwise. We had some lunch and the rest of our coffee and tea. I checked my blood sugar a few times throughout the day. Only once did I feel low, 74. Actually my meter was erroring out cause of its minimum operating temperature; so I had to warm it up in my armpit to use it! As I changed back into my climbing shoes Jillian mentioned that my feet were awfully white. Another good sign….

Despite the frigid temps we were stoked on good climbing and good company, so we pressed on. It was my turn on the sharp end. I chose a slabby 5.7* ‘Pro Bono’ and zipped right up. It was definitely easy, but still fun. Jillian and Jonathan had no trouble with it either. Next Jonathan led ‘Who Shot Bambi’ a 9-* right next to it. That climb was a blast and it was more technical than ‘Eminent Domain’ earlier. The crux was just past a thick overlap, walking up a rising diagonal seam that was no thicker than a quarter’s width. Below the overlap was another great move matching hands in a two finger pocket - so fun! Jillian is still a relatively new to the whole climbing thing, but she kept her cool and made it up. I cleaned the anchors, rapped down, and swung over to booty some one’s leaver-biner. Bonus!

Jeffrey leading Eminent Domain

By that time it was around 5pm so we packed up and hiked out, the last ones to leave. We stopped for more coffee on the the ride home. I crashed out in the back seat for half the drive. What a great day! EXCEPT for the dumb part: my right foot still, after four days, has only partial feeling in the big toe due to the cold. Pretty crazy. I’ve given myself plenty of warm foot baths and have been taking ibuprofen. It feels like when novocain starts wear off, but your mouth is kinda tingly numb and hypersensitive at the same time. The affected area is slowly shrinking, and there’s no discoloration or blistering so I doubt I’ll loose my toe or anything. I’m my own experiment and now I know how much cold I can tolerate, or not. Next time I’ll DEFINITELY be bringing those hot hands things for my feet, lesson learned!

This weekend the temps are supposed to be in the high 50s and I have another call out to Jonathan and Jillian for more adventures. They are great climbing partners and all around good people. They get me outta the house while my girlfriend studies for grad school. I’m always thrilled to be tying in with them. Their three rules are: Be safe, Have Fun, and Maintain A Positive Attitude. Pretty simple.

***This past weekend Jeffrey went back out to Safe Harbor with his friends Jonathan and Jillian-he climbed that 5.11a/b route that he was “just not there” on a week ago! Here’s to raising the bar!

Honesty: the double edged sword

By Steve on March 8, 2013 in LivingVertical

This week has been an amalgam of complex emotions. My blood sugar has been “adjusting” to a new exercise regimen, I have some big plans (relatively speaking) in the works that I am thrilled about but can’t really disclose yet, and of course there was the “hopelash” discussion about the DRI’s Biohub announcement.

I have always sought to be honest and real in my posting, above all else-which I know is partly what interests people in reading my rambling monologues (for some odd reason). I also know that I have a tendency to occasionally speak from raw emotion and that such manifestations of honesty aren’t always as clear as they could be. I have spent a lot of time questioning my reaction to the handling of the Biohub announcement because I feel some of my ire in the moment overshadowed the full scope of my position on diabetes research.

I am not a curmudgeon on a witch hunt. I am a skeptic. I choose not to suspend my skepticism when the words “diabetes” and “cure” appear together in the same sentence. However; I do believe that research is important and that it has given us advancements that we (myself included) benefit from every day and so there is no desire on my part to see support for these efforts abandoned. My issue is with invoking the word “cure” into research pledge drives with seeming flippancy. That sort of messaging pushes my buttons-because a cure is the “low probability/high risk investment” of which I ranted in my previous blog.

The fact that research hasn’t yet given us a cure is not my beef. I know that these things take a long time and that we are constantly learning new things, not to mention getting research past the FDA represents a Gordian knot of red tape-and those are perfectly valid reasons for the rate of progression. When those facts are presented without “sugaring the pill”, that is research that I can get behind-not because of likelihood of success (however that is even defined!) but because I respect a realistic, honest approach in the face of grim odds.

My personal focus in my years with diabetes has never been research; cure-related or treatment-related, because that avenue of progress has not spoken to me, on a visceral level. That fact does not mean that I wish to dissuade others who have a different perspective or motivation in the world of diabetes from supporting research that passes their personal “sniff test”. It doesn’t mean that I consider research to be trivial or unimportant. It simply means that I feel moved in other directions that are less visible to the public and so I have focused the majority of my energies accordingly-and I make no apology for that.

I absolutely believe that while research is one important avenue of progress, it doesn’t (and shouldn’t) represent the whole map to improving life with diabetes. There are so many great things that I have gotten to witness and write about over the last year; programs that help people and change lives here and now-and people and organizations that deserve to be recognized right alongside research because of their impact. To be clear I am not nominating myself or Project365 for inclusion in that category. There are many others I have rubbed elbows with over this past year who motivate that preceding statement.

I have personally been denounced and reviled (sometimes in very colorful terms) for even trying to make my mark in that same arena by doing something that isn’t cure-research related. Seeing people hate you for things they can’t really understand, well it hurts, even if “they don’t matter”. So yeah, the whole cure terminology touches a nerve for me, but I have honestly tried (and I am constantly striving) to make sure that I don’t throw the baby out with the bathwater, and sometimes that objective is harder to meet than others!

I do want to see a complete picture of “getting involved in diabetes” presented to the world and I don’t want to crusade for anything other than people making their own, well informed choices and being positive about and active life with diabetes.

Project 365 questions answered!

By Steve on March 4, 2013 in LivingVertical

Anything you would’ve done differently over the year?

Hindsight is 20/20, so there are many things I would do differently. However, I don’t regret any of the decisions I made in regards to the project. This may seem like a negligible distinction but I feel like it is significant. I went into Project 365 expecting to have strikes and gutters-wins and losses. Going back to settle some of the scores of the “losses” would be satisfying on some level but I really feel like the big picture needed to include the struggle and failure.

In responding to this question, I have just written and deleted several things I would have done differently. I really cant see myself doing things any different way! Sometimes I think that I should have shot more photos and video and climbed harder and left the blogging as an afterthought-but if I had done that, I might have missed out on connecting with some amazing people and opportunities. I feel like I could have prepared more in terms of getting sponsors for the project-but if we had everything all locked up beforehand, that would have killed a large part of the story!

A few definite things that I would have done differently though:

Use Instagram more! Pictures are worth so much more than words-especially when you are in picturesque locations
Spend more time in Yosemite: I got in over my head in the valley and while it was good to test the waters, I could have had a more productive time there if I had gotten my feet wet on smaller objectives before diving in!
Spend more time in the Bugaboos with Martin and his family: Logistics limited us in British Columbia time-wise, but the few days we had there unquestionably changed my life.
Should have laid out the money for a full frame sensor camera from the get go. Having recently upgraded to the Nikon D600, I now see that I had been rubbing sticks together instead of using a zippo!
Should have gotten an iPhone from beginning too. That dramatically increased my ability to keep social media channels updated without having to get stuck behind a computer.

Plans to do something like this again?

Yes. Unquestionably. I have done many multi-month road trips with Stefanie over the preceding years and so Project 365 was more of a culmination of previous efforts than a “new” thing. Through the course of the project I had a chance to meet some amazing T1D climbers, and moving forward I want to take on bigger objectives with them.

I don’t foresee another 365 consecutive day climbing challenge because of the logistics and cost-however I will put this out there (sort of kidding, but also not entirely) that if the funding and logistic support were in place, I would do it again and try to break the 79,000 feet climbed.

My vision is more towards harder, wilder, more remote climbing objectives with other T1s. A few examples of what are in my mind: Patagonia, Yukon Territory, Baffin Island, Greenland, Bugaboos, Himalaya. There is also a great deal of amazing climbing to share as inspiration to the diabetes community in the US too-for me this is a way of life so it never truly stops.

Your favorite day/climb??

Ok, I have to cop out here and say that I can’t select one day or climb. I can try to do a top 5 list:

Pigeon Spire with Martin
Day 365 sending my hardest route with Jason
World Diabetes Day at Roche headquarters in IN
Day 298 I sent 4 hard boulder problems in the Gunks in NY that had crushed me in the past
My 30th birthday- almost got struck by lightning but it was awesome!

Did you ever want to give up? What kept you going?

I frequently felt like I was failing completely and despair was rarely far from me. Being separated from my wife, my family and my friends made me feel incredibly isolated despite the fact that I wasn’t always in the backcountry or up on a bigwall. Despite this, I never wanted to give up because I didn’t want to lose everything I had put in. We sold everything we had to take on this project. We left our jobs and home-it was full commitment. There really was no option to give up or turn back. What would we go back to? From the beginning I believed that this project was my path. I did not have a specific vision as to what it would lead to, but I knew that accepting the suffering up front was part of that.

When I signed up for the project I knew the road ahead of me would be filled with both peaks and valleys. Summit experiences are few and far between when compared with the valleys, but that was something I prepared for. Staying task oriented helped me keep going. Instead of thinking about the next month, I would focus on the day at hand, getting climbing done safely and cooking and sleeping. Living on the road added to the process of living and those added tasks helped keep me in the moment when I could have gone crazy worrying if I had let it get away from me.

What kind of vehicle made the trip? Year make model? Did you nickname it something awesome like the “diabetes demon”? The “injection train”?

The first half of Project 365 was taken on in my Toyota Tercel (1987, Wagon). I called it the “Dragon Wagon” which was a reference to it’s bright red color and to a song by a metal band I like called The Red Chord. This car was dear to me, but it was a clunker. It represented more than just a mascot of sorts, it was a rejection of materialism and the idea that doing great things and being healthy are related to how shiny your “stuff” is. It was very sad for me when the Dragon Wagon died in early July, leaving me and my partner Rob stranded in Sioux Falls South Dakota. We had to rent a car and blitz for the east coast in a 23 hour push-without getting a chance to really say goodbye.

What is a comfort that you took with you? Something to keep you grounded when it seems like all hell was breaking loose?

Having the iPhone let me play games on the phone even when cell service was non existent. I was able to keep it charged up thanks to the support we got from Goal Zero and their solar equipment. I am not a big video game aficionado -I stopped caring about video games after SNES came out. Once they went beyond 32 bit graphics, I lost my appetite. However being able to have a bit of mindless entertainment made some of the more dire and lonely situations seem less hopeless. I also brought an MP3 player with me that I have all 7 seasons of “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia” on-as well as selected episodes of “Seinfeld”, “Curb Your Enthusiasm” and “Arrested Development”. Driving across Kansas at night (which I did at least 3 times during the year) makes you thankful for a little bit of hilarity to pass the time.

Back to normal!

By Steve on February 27, 2013 in LivingVertical

Climbing is pretty exciting. So was Project 365. Now I am working on the documentary about the past year called “In the blood”. I think that it will be exciting-or at least engaging once it’s finished. For now though it’s honestly pretty low key. Wading through hours of footage shot without a script or direction, trying to work backwards and put the pieces back together in some semblance of what I experienced.

I am basically reliving the experience-and this process which will take at least several months of steady work, makes me itch to run off to the mountains again. But I am also enjoying the change of pace. It’s very easy to look forward so much that we never get the chance to “digest” our recent past-in a healthy way, not in an “emotional baggage” way…

So as I am sorting through footage and adding photo galleries to the homepage I am in an unusual position: I don’t have a glut of amazing new photos to blog about or a crisis of sorts to share. I am becalmed in a sea of…dare I say…normalcy?

I have been experimenting with new Dexcom sensor placements-I departed from the back of the arm in search of deeper fatty tissue. I decided to try my upper buttock because the sensor would sit below the harness waist belt and above the leg loops. I know the abdomen is the only area approved by the FDA…but until they send the black helicopters to get me for improper sensor location, I am going to find a way, dammit, to wear that sensor in such a way that I can climb at my limit.

To make a long story excruciating, I am not thrilled with the performance of this location although it’s easy to install and seems to be super low maintenance. I have been getting readings all over the map. It’s honestly kind of distracting to be told by this little device that usually is right on the money, that my sugar is 39…when I am driving on the highway and feeling right as rain, with no fast-acting insulin on board!

It has, however, given me a chance to reignite a love affair with my meter. Its funny how I test my blood more now when I am wearing my Dexcom than I would if I were “flying blind”. All told though, it’s exciting to do research on my diabetes and keep fine tuning the system! I know that when I am using the Dexcom outside the recommended sensor sites that I am venturing into murky waters-and so that is some adventure to add to the mix!

Of course I don’t want you all to think that my life is all desk work and computer slavery. I am keeping my list of projects close to home-Zion has no shortage of amazing climbing routes that will challenge and humble me. You may remember this unclimbed boulder problem that I blogged about last week-as well as plenty of bigwall routes. I am hoping to repeat moonlight buttress again this spring and tick off a few other big climbs. They are close to home so I can get after it without having to take much time away from finishing the documentary!

I am hoping to shoot some video on my boulder problem at some point…in the next month or two and share that with you all. I need to get a little further and work out the moves though-at this point it’s all pretty rough! Also my next blog post will address some of the questions I received at the conclusion of Project 365 so stay tuned!

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