Skibummery

When I started this blog almost 2 years ago, I wanted to accomplish 2 things with it. First, I wanted some sort of record of our big adventure so that when I was old and senile, I had proof that we did something big. The second and more important reason, was to be able to share our thoughts, feelings, and experiences with family and friends (you). Since talking about feelings makes everyone uncomfortable, that is what we are going to talk about today.

Last night, as I was sitting on the edge of a volcanic crater here in central Oregon, with my feet dangling down over the edge and waiting for the sunset (Mom, I was perfectly safe), I had a reoccurring feeling that I've had quite often in the last couple of years. I'm not sure there is an actual word for the feeling I had, but the best way I can describe it is that I just felt alive.

Eating, sleeping, breathing, and pooping. Technically speaking, those things mean you are alive. But actually feeling alive is a whole other story. I've touched on this topic a couple of times in the last 2 years of our adventure and I'm sure you may be tired of hearing about it, but hey, it's my blog and I can write about anything I want.

I am not any sort of adrenaline junky. Safety first is my motto. I want to live to see what tomorrow will bring, so this feeling alive thing has nothing to do with a different feeling that is more along the lines of feeling lucky to be alive. There are lots of people in this world who need to be close to death to feel like they are living. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about. Skydiving, bungee jumping, scuba diving with sharks, or jumping off of cliffs with skis strapped to your feet. When you survive those types of things, which I have, of course you feel lucky to be alive and excited and jacked up on adrenaline, but for me, after those activities I never once had this feeling. I always just felt lucky to be alive and that maybe those weren't the smartest things I've ever done.

For me, this alive feeling is hard to describe. It's a moment of clarity. It's a feeling of fulfillment and contentment. It's a calming and peaceful slice of time that doesn't last more than just a moment. But more than anything, it's just a rather nice feeling.

Some would call this feeling a religious experience, some would call it being a Zen Master, some would call it warm and fuzzy's, and other's would probably say that I may have scurvy and have gone loony-toons.  Call it what you will.

So, as I was sitting on the edge of this volcano waiting for the sunset last night, with my feet dangling over the edge (again Mom, I was perfectly safe), I was hit again with this feeling. There was no adrenaline, there was no fanfare, and there were no sparks or magic. I just felt alive. This isn't a feeling that comes along every day or even every week, so the only thing I could do was take a deep breath, admire the beautiful sunset, and enjoy it while it lasted.

The funny thing is that this morning, my good friend Marcus and I climbed one of the local peaks here in central Oregon, and just as we were standing on the summit getting ready to ski down it's slippery white slopes, the feeling hit me again. No sparks or magic, no adrenaline, and no fanfare. Just a rather nice feeling that I was living. The feeling is always fleeting, so again the only thing to do is take a deep breath and soak it in while it lasts.

In these last 2 years as professional adventurers, this feeling has come to me more than the rest of my life combined. I think it's because I now have the time to recognize it. Back in our working life, with all of the stress that comes with trying to survive the daily grind, just to repeat it again tomorrow, my mind was never clear enough to notice or appreciate the feeling if it was there. And realistically, that feeling of living probably wasn't actually there to begin with. I think the feeling was more like surviving. Or at least, trying to survive. Especially the last 10 years or so of work and insanity before we left.

I've had quite a few people ask me how we are able to do this at such a young age (thank you people who included the young age part...that makes me feel much younger than I am). Did we win the lottery? Are we trust fund babies? Does Brenda have a secret sugar daddy? No, no, and no (that I know of...it wouldn't be a secret sugar daddy if I knew about it). The quick answer is that we made a plan and then worked really, really, really hard to make the plan a reality and then we actually left. I often tell people that I traded 10 years of my life for this adventure.

Was the 10 years lost worth what we are doing now? If you would have asked me in the middle of the grind, while I was deep in survival mode, I probably would have said no, but now, I would definitely say yes.

On my bucket list is a line that reads “Ski Bum for a winter”. For me, the past 3 months of being a ski bum has really been a dream come true. If I could take a pencil and paper and sketch out my perfect winter, this would have been it. Of course I would have much preferred to have Brenda here with me, but there is an old saying that goes something like: When life gives you lemons, throw those lemons in your neighbors yard...or something like that. I don't remember the punch line from that old saying, but I do know that I love a nice cold glass of lemonade. Well, guess what? That “Ski Bum” line gets to be crossed off my bucket list. Now that's living.

Since this blog automatically posts on Facebook, some of you who are reading this from Facebook may have already seen the video below.  If we aren't BFF's on Facebook and you haven't seen the video, please take a few minutes to watch it. It's a true story and the ending always gets me. I shed a tear every time.

Another summit in the bag and just about to drop in for the best part...the ski down.