Words and Photos by Carlos Buhler (Top image - Carlos on Everest summit with Pena Guara Club flag, China)
Climbing on Changabang N Face, India
A LITTLE BACKGROUND ON ME:
I grew up in a town about 20 miles outside of New York City called Harrison. I graduated from Huxley College of the Environment at Western Washington University in Bellingham, Washington, with a degree in Environmental Education and Human Ecology. Paralleling my academic studies was a passion I found for climbing. At first, I nurtured the two interests separately. But in my late 20s, I made a career decision to concentrate on the mountain climbing side of things. Initially, I earned my living as a tour guide in the adventure tourism sector of the mountain guiding profession. I worked as a trip leader for various adventure travel companies that organized active, mountain-oriented tourism in the Alaska Range, the North Cascades, the Andes, and the Himalaya. The work was a good introduction to the organization and logistics side of exploring off-the-beaten-path destinations.
Approaching Changabang N Face, India
It wasn't long before my delight and satisfaction from solving mountain climbing "puzzles" became obvious. These natural enigmas required solving a combination of both mental and physical stumpers. Each side of the equation relied on the other to open a pathway towards success. A passion for solving these climbing riddles drove my motivation for mountain exploration in the far-reaching ranges. I had been intellectually challenged at university and physically challenged through climbing outside of it. But bringing those two worlds together through the process of climbing in remote areas became more satisfying than either one of the two sides separately. Mountain climbing is, honestly, just an exercise in problem solving. It must be tackled by inventing a plan, which inevitably gets tested when you and your teammates attempt to implement it. Hopefully, you live long enough to learn what works for you and what doesn't.
Bivi on East ridge of University Peak, Alaska
Researching mountain areas, putting small teams together, finding financial support, and working within the outdoor industry was as fulfilling for me as the mental and physical challenges of learning to move over difficult natural terrain–ice, snow, rock in rarified air with a backpack weighing one down. When I witnessed how different teams behaved in stressful situations, I became interested in what team leadership consisted of and how it influenced group dynamics. My evolving career in offering presentations and talks brought me interaction with leaders in the business world. It wasn't long before I realized that leadership skills were, in many aspects, universal. Troop members' willingness to participate and their motivation to do so were clearly linked to leadership styles. Again and again, I observed wildly varying outcomes of similarly capable units. While some of differences could be explained by statistical chance, I concluded that the varying results were undeniably related to the quality of leadership within those squads. I've been studying that relationship between Luck and Leadership over the years.
(L) Climbing on Siula Grande West Face, Peru
(R) Hanging camp on Changabang N Face, India
THRU HIKING? NOT ME.
The last four weeks, I have been struggling with the intimidation of joining a professional thru hiker on a journey through the Canadian Rockies. It's been a rough road. I'm 70 now. I suffered a broken spine (my T5 was demolished) in a mountain bike crash five years ago and a construction project of bolts, rods and screws was used to put me back together, fusing me from my T2 to my T8. Luckily, I can still walk. But thru hiking? No. I couldn't imagine that.
Yet here I was, my kids safely working for the summer, and I found myself with some time on my hands. My encouraging friend Thaddeus offered me involvement with this project he's been dreaming up. I was aware that this might push me beyond my limits. So, being a mature, more or less serious guy, I decided that I would not go. I didn't want to disappoint people, much less myself.
Then he called me. We talked for two hours. I began to think, "Maybe I should just try–what have I got to lose?" So, I said, "Ok, let me look at this." All my stuff is for climbing in winter. It's robustly built. It was designed to hold up in 60 mph winds on a remote peak somewhere. But it weighs a good deal. By today's standards, it's heavy.
I have to learn to think "light"; light as can be. So light, in fact, that I'm not intimidated by the thought of carrying it on my back while cruising through the mountains. Now, I am in the process of figuring out where "light" and "durable" intersect. I called the people at Hyperlite and talked with the experts. It's a different world now. I have to think completely differently about the equation.
Not only is my body a far cry from what it used to be, but my mind is a far distance from committing to something that may not end very well. So, I am letting go of the destination and embracing the journey to get there. I don't know where this will lead me. But I'm going to give it a shot. I am still very intimidated as I put together my list of supplies.
Yikes! I can't believe I am doing this at this stage of my life!
Descending University Peak, Alaska
Talking together on the phone is taking over my existence as I go over the dozens of aspects of the coming hike with my partner, Thaddeus. We discuss much minutia about road heads, trail irregularities, and drop points for potential re-supplies. He schools me in every aspect of putting the right kit together for the trip. I have so many questions!
Will I deal successfully with chafing on my legs? What will we do at trail junctions when we are separated and hiking at different speeds? The curious thing is that all these details give me a sense of belonging with the project ahead. It’s a process that builds from a network of conversations and establishes some common knowledge that, in the long run, will keep us communicating better when we’re tired and cold in a rainstorm, wallowing up the trail. I am trying to imagine how I’ll feel when my first day of the trip arrives about eight days from now. I am still intimidated. But I think I’m looking forward to when we are on the journey and feeling the rhythm of daily activity. This week, I am concentrating on preparation for being separated from all the little life details that keep
us anchored to technology. I’ll have a smartphone and a power bank. But not a lot of power to use it much. I’ve got hearing aids that need to be charged. What a nuisance!
Like tender knees, these conditions of aging creep into my trip. I can’t let them stop me, I think.
The rundown from hike organizer, Thaddeus VanDenBerghe– “Earlier this spring I did a bunch of research, logistics, and phone calls and was able to lattice together a complete schedule of permits to properly thru hike the entire Great Divide Trail in the Canadian Rockies. This friggin' trail has the highest bureaucratic red tape barrier to cut through that I have ever tackled to date; but I put in the time and was able to get it sorted. The basics of the plan: we are meeting at the famous Looking Glass Hostel in East Glacier on July 17th, grabbing walk up permits to trace the last 100 miles of the CDT, tagging the northern CDT terminus/southern GDT terminus on the shore of Waterton Lake, crossing into Canada, and then sending the GDT all the way to the 55 northern parallel -about 800 miles of trail!”
HMG – We had the distinct pleasure of talking with Carlos to help him build a kit for this impressive adventure–we couldn't be more stoked to help him hit the trail and experience some backcountry travel–maybe just a little closer to the trees than the clouds! Going light with a reliable and distraction-free setup will be key, but so will being comfortable while recharging in the downtime at the end of each day. Here's where we landed on the majority of his first thru hiking kit:
Side Entry Pod 10L for the Quilt
Pods (3) 13L and (1) 9L Pod
Aquamira water purifying tablets
Stay tuned to see how everything went!
