The young mother was beyond frustrated with her toddler. He wasn’t so much rebellious as passive/aggressive; obedient when she had his undivided attention, completely ignoring her at other times. Finally, in a flash of inspiration she crept up silently behind him where he was playing on the floor. Quietly she asked,
Rod, do you want a cookie?
The boy, who like all little boys, loved cookies completely ignored his mother.
That little boy was me. (No, I’m not deaf and my mother calls me Rod, you can call me Rodney.) I ended up at the Washington State University audiology lab with a pile of M&Ms in front of me.
But, I’m getting ahead of the story, or more accurately, too far behind, too soon.
For the last two days, I’ve been in the most valuable training classes I’ve ever had the pleasure to attend. It was at the VitalSmarts headquarters in Provo, UT. The course was Influencer. This wasn’t my first exposure to Influencer. (Book Review: Influencer, My Top Five Business Books)
I’ve read the book, and I’ve listened to the book on the CD. The material is brilliant. This class was a different and unique experience. Rather than attempt to cover the material in the book, the course focused on the core concepts; the six areas of influence.
I spent many years as a course developer for WordPerfect and Microsoft. There is a difference between a book and a course. The focus over the past two days was teaching. As class members, we worked collaboratively. The course requires the attendees to interact with each other. I spent a lot of time with Neil. He’s working on influencing a member of his family. I also interacted with Daniel who is working on a fascinating secret project. I may write about it at some point when he’s completed it.
At my table was my friend Robert and a new friend Phil. We were at times competing with the other 5 tables. The course incorporated a series of “chips” that each table could win. The table with the most chips at the end of the class won a fabulous prize.
As an Instructional Designer, I understood the purpose for the “competition” in the course. What was interesting was that not only could you gain chips by giving the right answer, you could also lose them. Our table went from 12 to 11 chips when we missed an answer.
We missed out on the fabulous prize, but got to know each other a lot better. This class was a “friends and family” class. In other words, we were mostly a bunch of strangers who were in the class because we knew someone. However, the course is designed to be delivered to a workgroup. The bonding aspect is important. It helps to make class members feel responsible for each other’s learning.
As Ashley, our instructor took the poker chip for our wrong answer, I was reminded of being a little kid all those years ago at WSU. I worked with an audiologiest. While I wasn’t deaf, they figured out that I needed some training to recognize sounds.
The test was pretty simple. Wearing a set of headphones, I was supposed to raise my hand when I heard a beep. When I answered correctly I got an M&M candy which I promptly ate. After awhile I decided that a single M&M was kind of unsatisfying. I decided to save them up and eat a big handful all at once. My plan worked well for the first six or seven beeps. I soon had a small pile of M&Ms in front of me. At that point I missed one. I raised my hand, but there hadn’t been a beep. The woman I was working with reached out and took back one of the M&Ms. I hadn’t considered that possibility. I quickly scooped up my remaining M&Ms and stuffed them in my mouth.
That wasn’t an option with the poker chips.
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday at 7:00 AM Mountain Time. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com(c) 2015 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved
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nerd
a foolish or contemptible person who lacks social skills or is boringly studious.
“one of those nerds who never asked a girl to dance”
– a single-minded expert in a particular technical field
“a computer nerd”
- What is the Prime Directive?
- What is the inherent contradiction in the phrase, “the ship that made the Kessel run in less than 12 parsecs”?
- What is the air speed velocity of a sparrow?
What do these questions have in common?
They all common lore in nerd-culture. Nerd is a funny word. In many ways it is similar to the term Redneck. If you call someone a Redneck their likelihood of being offended is directly related to whether they actually consider themselves a Redneck. In other words, call a non-Redneck that label and they’ll be offended. Tell a true Redneck that he’s a Redneck and he’ll thank you. Nerds are the same way. True nerds don’t mind the label. In fact, it’s a badge of honor. Being a nerd requires a certain level of competence in two areas: technical and cultural.
The technical aspects of being a nerd are evident when they interact with non-nerds. The IT guy who shows up to fix your computer is very likely a computer nerd. The programmers that seem to live in their office surviving on pizza and Mt Dew and shunning sunlight are very likely nerds. (Don’t bother them, they’re working.)
Your nephew that built your website? Yup. Likely a nerd. (BTW, the website is technically strong, but you shouldn’t let him do the design work. Get your niece the art-major to do that part.)
The cultural aspects of being are nerd are evident when they interact with each other. Cosplay, comic-con, comic books, shouting out technical flaws while watching movies; these are nerd-dom activities.
Nerds don’t really appreciate it when you attempt to “fix” your own computers.
The error said it had a problem with the NTLDR file so I deleted it, but that didn’t seem to help.
It just makes the IT guy’s job harder. Oh, and the nerds reading this know that #1 You can’t delete the NTLDR file while your system is running and #2 if you could, it would destroy your installation of Windows so badly, you’d have to reinstall.
But, most nerds are just as resistant to non-nerds trying to talk to them at a culture level. You might think you are “bonding” with your IT guy by mentioning that you watched Monty Python. You’ll never understand it at the level he does. He’ll nod, mumble and then mock you when he’s back at his cubicle. Well, he won’t actually mock you, but you will become an example of people who just don’t get nerd culture.
Just realize that your IT-nerds have a unique culture and like the appeal of vegemite, nerd-culture is something you will probably never really understand. But, the IT guy will fix your computer anyway.
The answers to the above questions;
- The Prime Directive is the rule that prohibits Star Fleet personal from interfering with the development of alien civiliations. Oh, and the crew of the Enterprise ignore it on a regular basis.
- The inherent contradiction in the idea that a ship made the Kessel run in under 12 parsecs, is the fact that parsecs is a description of distance, not time. Most people would assume that either Harrison Fdrk got the line wrong, or George Lucas wrote it wrong. Nerds understand that Han Solo knew exactly what he was saying and somehow he managed to cut the 18 parsec distance down to less than 12. This most likely involved some manner of time travel, but that’s simply speculation at this point.
- The air-speed velocity of a sparrow is a trick question, of course. You cannot answer this without first establishing whether it’s an African sparrow or a European sparrow. But, if you are guarding the bridge of death, you need to know this before the King Arthur shows up.
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday at 7:00 AM Mountain Time. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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There were 8 of them. They all looked at me with that expectant look as if to say,
Go on. Teach us.
I remembered what a friend told me when I started: They can sense fear.
Okay, maybe not that last part, but coaching a youth basketball team did involve a fair amount of “fake it until you make it.” I’d played basketball since I was a kid. I’d watched basketball just as long. I could watch a play by my favorite team, the Seattle Sonics and tell you if the players were performing well or poorly.
But, until I got behind the whistle, I didn’t realize just how much different coaching is than playing, or watching.
Those who can, do.
Those who can’t teach.
That has got to be one of the stupidest things ever written. It implies there is an ability spectrum that has player at one end and coach at the other. In reality they are two seperate skill sets. Comparable in the same sense that the president of the United States and a world famous pop star both speak english. But, we are not going to try to put them on the same scale.
I currently play basketball a couple of times per week. I get to the gym (which happens to be located in a church. It’s a Mormon thing) about 6:00 AM and we play for 90 minutes. Most of the guys there are old. None of us are ever going to play competitively. We’re there to sweat for an hour or so and try to push back the advent of old age just a little.
We don’t run plays. We typically play a zone defense. That means the biggest guy stands in the middle of the key right under the basket. The next two tallest guys stand to his left and right toward the out of bounds. The two shortest guys stand on each side of the foul line. Each player defends his zone. It’s a defense built for old men slow of foot.
On offense, we pretty much run around and try to get open for a clear shot. Some guys are better at it than others. We throw them the ball more.
As I set out to coach this youth team, I realized that my experience playing was not going to be the most help. I had to actually teach the boys plays. We adopted what was called the Stanford offense. It involved a point guard, two wings, the center stationed at the high post and a power forward that played low post. I had mostly short kids, that’s why I went with a three guard offense.
We practiced plays. We drilled them over and over. First we’d run the play to the right side, then to the left. We introduced an option where the center would take the initial pass. We NEVER just let the boys come down and run around looking for an open shot. The boys, like most young men who love basketball, but are not part of an organized team, were new to set plays. It remained to be seen if my plan would work in a game, or if I had doomed them to an obsolete dance while everyone else ran past them.
My basketball lessons apply in business as well. A team is more than a collection of individuals. Or at least it should be. If everyone shows up at work and “runs around looking for an open shot” you are going to see two things happen. First, just like in basketball, some will be better at finding the open shot. You will have some team members who shine. They will get the most sales. Write the most courseware. Build the most widgets.
But, if there isn’t an overriding plan that everyone is working under, you are going to ultimately have chaos. That’s okay at 6:00 in the morning with a bunch of overweight programmers sweating through a workout, but it’s horrible for business.
It’s why I hate individual recognition awards. You know, the employee of the month type? What about the employee who is just as hard working, just as dedicated, but doesn’t have a flaire for self promotion? Or what if their function is to be a support role? They are doomed to labor in obscurity while the shooters get the glory.
Instead, you, as the manager should have a strategy. You should be building and running your team based on a plan. You probably cannot do the things your team members do. At least not as well. Michael Jordan, never played for a coach that was as talented as he was as a player. And yet, Jordan’s coaching career was lackluster at best. We all have skills that a team needs to succeed. A team full of shooting guards, no matter how talented isn’t going to do well against a balanced, well coached team.
The first game with my youth team, I was a nervous wreck. We’d practiced. The boys knew the offense well. Everyone knew his role. It remained only to see how they would do against competitors. The first team we played had some kids who were bigger and faster than my team. I mentioned we were a small team and had adopted a three-guard offense as a result.
The first couple of times down the court the boys timing was off just a little. And then it started to click. The first basket gave them confidence. The hours of practice started to show. The boys realized that running the offense, following the plan gave them the best opportunity for success. The Standford offense, like many coaching strategies relies on timing and a little bit of misdirection. You pull the defenders away from the baket just as a player is cutting behind them.
The final score: 72-40.
A well coached team will outplay a more talented team every time.
If you are the manager, coach your team.
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday at 7:00 AM Mountain Time. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com(c) 2015 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved
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Have you ever revisited somewhere and not recognized your route?
I went back up on Mt Timpanogos yesterday. It was a holiday and my family and I decided to hike to Scout Falls. This is the hike I got lost on two weeks ago. This time was different, but the difference was very slight.
As I hiked the 1.5 miles to the falls, I watched for the spot I got off the trail last week. The only place I could find was a fork in the trail that has a log across one side of it. I don’t remember climbing over a log, but I guess I must have.
We didn’t go that way this time. In addition to last weeks experience, I had also checked a map.
As we arrived at the fork that points us to Scout Falls, I looked for familiar landmarks from last week. I didn’t see any. In fact, from checking maps and trail descriptions, I knew that Scout Falls was only 100′ off the Timpanookeke trail. That 100′ was literally climbing through a pine tree’s roots and then edging along a thin ledge while hugging the granite wall.
The falls looked the same.
And as we were admiring them, a couple came up the route that I had traversed. They came straight up the rockslide.
They were clearly disoriented. We were sure to point them back toward the main trail. I stood at the falls and tried and reconstruct why I had misjudged the right route. Here’s the route that I should have taken.
It doesn’t look like much from the falls. Now, here’s the route that I took instead.
It looks steep, but passable. My son wanted to know if he could climb it. “Go ahead.” He disappeared for a few minutes and quickly returned. The trail pretty much disappears right around that bend.
How often do we get ourselves into trouble because we take what looks to be the right path? The actual trail looked less appealing, but was only hard for about 50′ or so. The wrong trail resulted in about an hour of scrambling over cliffs and pushing through swamps.
I’ve been guilty at times of taking that path of least resistance. Of shying away from the hard path even though I know it’s only a short amount of pain and I’ll be on the right path. If I were a better philosopher than a storyteller, this would be the point at which I would provide some clever bit of information that would help you and me to push through that hard part.
I don’t have that nugget of knowledge. I do know that everytime I try it, I feel better on the other end. I don’t think there is any magic phrase that makes us do the hard, but necessary thing. Just keep trying.
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday at 7:00 AM Mountain Time. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com(c) 2015 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved
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I’m constantly reading business books. Typically I have one open and a list of several that I want to get to. Here are my top five. They cover different aspects of business. I have read them many times and will undoubtably read them many more.
5. Crossing The Chasm – Geoffrey A. Moore
This book was a recommendation from my brother Richard, who has written his own book on marketing (Stealing the Show.) I like to describe myself as not a salesman. But, in reality we are all salesmen. Sometimes it’s more formal, but if you have to sell an idea to your boss, or sell your team on a new initiative, you are selling. Crossing the Chasm does a great job of explaing the process of going from a startup to an established company. I once mistook a client for an early adoptor. It cost my company a lot of money and a lot of frustration. I should have paid better attention to Moore’s explanation.
4. Never Eat Alone And Other Secrets to Success – Keith Ferrazzi
I don’t remember where I got my copy of Never Eat Alone. Very likely I overpaid for it in some airport bookstore. Ferrazzi explains networking better than I have ever seen. I tend to feel guilty every time I eat lunch by myself. You will too.
3. Influencer – Joseph Grenny, Kerry Patterson, David Maxfield, Ron McMillan, Al Switzler
My top three are really hard to rank. Influencer is from a research group. It explains why people do certain things. And just as importantly, it explains why people do not do certain things. My job as a Project Manager is to get people to do things for me when I have no direct influence over them. This book has been invaluable in helping me succeed as a PM. This week I’ll be attending a class on how to train people to be influencers. I’ve been anxiously awaiting this class for six months.
2. First Break All The Rules – Marcus Buckingham, Curt Coffman
I was tempted to put this book number 1. It’s the book I actively refer to most often as a leader. I hated the title. I still do. I’m suspicious of people who flout the conventional wisdom. In this case, the title was accurate. The authors did thousands of survey’s to find out why people leave companies. Their research is much more involved, but the it boils down to people join a company for it’s benefits, they leave because of their manager. Fortunately, Buckingham and Coffman explain how to keep them from leaving. It’s not about money. In fact, salary figures into it very little.
1. How to Win Friends and Influence People – Dale Carnegie
This was the first business book I ever read. I didn’t understand it was a business book at the time. I was 17 and a junior in HS. I thought it was a book about how to make friends. Later I figured out that the two things are really teh same thing. It’s hard to believe this book has been around for over 75 years. The concepts are as old as civilization. The theme is simply “Be nice to people.” Not because you have to, not even because it is the right thing to do. But, being nice to people actually is a winning business strategy.
There are dozens of other business books I’ve read and hundreds more on the shelves. I’ve typically found portions of each book that I really enjoy. But, these five are my favorites because the authors took a business problem and crafted solutions. Solutions that I, as a business person, can immediately apply.
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday at 7:00 AM Mountain Time. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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- When boys lead, they often have more enthusiasm than sense
- Hike in groups, or at the least use the buddy system
- Don’t let your small goals get in the way of the big goals
- Keep moving forward
- 3:00 AM is really dark. Seriously, if you’re away from town, it’s pitch dark
- Cold water will not cook your freeze dried meal, not even it was hot “when I left that tent over there”
- The Timpanooke trail is noisy all night long. Expect it
- When good hiking boots wear out, you bruise your feet
- Take lots of pictures, you can always delete some later
- Stay on the path
- Leave rock cairns for those coming behind
- Camping “At Scout Falls” doesn’t mean you will actually SEE Scout Falls
- If lost, don’t head for Scout Falls
- The view from the summit, is worth every step
- Ibuprophen is your friend. Take enough
- Water is heavy. . .many essential things are
- Carry extra water UP the mountain. Don’t carry extra water DOWN the mountain
- Most people on the trail are nice people. . .be one of those people
- The summit is windy. . and cold. Don’t leave your jacket at camp
- I’m old
- But, not too old to make it to the top
- My son is one of the nicest people I know
- Walking sticks are not fashion statements. They are tools
- Utah has some beautiful country
- If you don’t want to see more of it than you bargined for. . .bring your own map!
This week I’m writing a series of posts about climbing Mt Timpanogos.
Monday: Getting Lost in the Wasatch Mountains
Tuesday: Not Just Up, but Way, Way, Up and Away
Wednesday: The Temptation To Give Up Once You Can See The Goal
Thursday: Racing The Sun To the Summit
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday at 7:00 AM Mountain Time. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
Follow him on
Twitter (@rodneymbliss)
Facebook (www.facebook.com/rbliss)
LinkedIn (www.LinkedIn.com/in/rbliss)
or email him at rbliss at msn dot com(c) 2015 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved
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It was going to be close. After a seven mile hike that took three and a half hours, the final 100 yards was going to determine if we won. The silly thing was it was a race with ourselves. The sun didn’t really care.
Mt Timpanogos is 11,752 feet high.
While it would be awesome to say we climbed 11,752 feet in two days, that’s not exactly correct. Actually, it’s a long ways from being correct. My house is about 4500 feet above sea level. The lowest point in Utah is Beaver dam and it’s 2180 feet. The parking lot of the Timpanokee campground, where we had started our hike is 8000 feet. Still, 3700 vertical feet over 9 miles was not a walk in the park. I know, I’ve walked in the park and my knees didn’t hurt nearly this bad.
We’d camped at Scout Falls and got up at 3:00 to hike in the dark and chase the sun to the top of the mountain.
For the past hour, the eastern sky had been giving us warning that the race was coming to a conclusion.
I have a friend who is doing the 30 days No Excuse challenge. The objective is to set a goal and accomplish 30 specific things every day. My friend did it for his health. He cut out soda and has dropped 16 lbs in 2 weeks. He said something interesting today.
I have not yet managed to accomplish all 30 goals in a single day.
I tried the 30 challenge and found myself frustrated because there were not enough hours in the day. (One of the goals was go to bed early, so I couldn’t simply burn the midnight oil.) I was failing at my challenge. I had plenty of excuses. I beat myself up a little over it. My friend followed up the above statement with one more.
It doesn’t matter since I know that I’m improving.
Oops, I guess I missed that. My sense of perfection kicked in. I turned my goals into an all or nothing competition. I was either winning or I was losing, and winning meant doing all 30. Clearly I had lost sight of the true goal which was to improve; do a little better today than you did yesterday. Our goals are less a race than a journey. We don’t suddenly arrive a state of “now I’m in shape,” “now I’m healthy,” “now I’m thin.”
I thought of that as we scrambled over the rocks trying to beat the sun to the summit. Was the goal to get there before the sunrise? Or was it to accomplish the goal of climbing a mountain?
My son and I were 50 feet from the top when a cheer went up from the people at the summit. They cheered the return of the sun. My son could have easily been at the top by sunrise. He’s in great shape and spent the summer running up and down mountains, building trails for the forst service. He chose to stick with me, even knowing that he might miss the sunrise.
In fact, he was the reason I was on this hike. I didn’t have time to take a couple days and climb a mountain. But, when he decided he was going, I decided I really had no choice. I chose to go with him. I think the trip to the summit was his way of saying he chose to go with me too.
The view from the top was spectacular.
We found the rest of our group. They’d made much better time. They hadn’t needed to wait for the old man and his weak knees.
It was kind of fun to share the sunrise with a group of people who had been through the same journey we had. They might have arrived a little earlier, but we’d all made it. We were all part of the same tribe for a few minutes. And we had the sunlight all to ourselves. We paused for one more picture before starting down.
We had 3700 feet and 9 miles to get back to the trucks and on about our day. Did the sun beat me to the top? Yup. Did I care? Not a bit. Racing the sun was an intermediate goal, the mountain top was a destination. Spending 9 hours hiking with my son was the reward.
This week I’m writing a series of posts about climbing Mt Timpanogos.
Monday: Getting Lost in the Wasatch Mountains
Tuesday: Not Just Up, but Way, Way, Up and Away
Wednesday: The Temptation To Give Up Once You Can See The Goal
Tomorrow: Lessons learned from Timp
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday at 7:00 AM Mountain Time. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com(c) 2015 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved
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What do you want to do Dad? We can stay here at the saddle and watch the sunrise, or press on for the summit.
I don’t know if I’lll ever hike this mountain again. I think I’d like to press on for the summit even if it means we miss watching the sunrise rather than stay here at the lower elevation and risk not getting to summit.
The eastern horizon was already glowing a warm yellow, heralding the dawn of a new day.
This day was starting out differently than other days had. I’ve often seen the sunrise, but never from 11,000 feet. We got at 3:00 AM and had hiked for 3 hours. In that time we had covered about 6 miles.
It was a race now, a race between my son and me versus the approaching dawn. The problem was, I was tired. I was beyond tired. My feet were bruised through my boots. My knees were complaining with every step. The thin air was making it hard for me to get a breath. I had to stop frequently to rest and catch my breath.
My son, if he was feeling any of the effects of the hike, didn’t show them. And yet, he matched pace with me the whole way. He was content to let me set the pace. If I wanted to stop, he was willing to make that the end of his hike.
Crossing the saddle, we found ourselves on the west slope of Mt Timpanogos for the first time. This change in geography presented a problem for us. The mountain blocked our view of the eastern horizon. We might completely miss the sunrise while toiling along in the shadow of the ridgeline.
This is what I call the “Life Scout” Award location of a trip.
We were taking one of many breaks. Coming across the saddle, we could see our objective. It was hard to judge just exactly how much farther the summit was. But, we had a good view of the tortuous trail.
How do you mean?
What rank comes after Life Scout?
Eagle Scout.
Exactly. Eagle Scout. There are countless boys who make it to Life Scout, they can see the goal in sight, and they choose instead to give up.
The temptation to give up got stronger with every step. My knees screamed “Make it stop!” after every step. The entire sky was now bright enough that we no longer needed our headlamps. We appeared to be the only two still hiking the trail. Everyone else had found a place to sit and watch the sun come up. Finally, only a single stretch of trail lay between us and the summit.
Lacking a good view of the sky, it was impossible to know how many minutes remained before the sun broke through.
Sure you don’t want to stop, Dad?
I’ve seen plenty of sunrises. I’ve never been to the top of this mountain, in who’s shadow we live. We’ll press on.
I earned my Eagle Scout award when I was 15. I did not intend to be stopped by the “Life Scout” temptation at this point.
This week, I’m telling the story of hiking Mt Timpanogos with my son.
Monday: How I Got Lost In The Wasatch Mountains On My Way To The Summit
Tuesday: Not Only Up Before The Sun, But Up, Up And Away Up Before The Sun
Tomorrow: The Race To The Top
Friday: Lessons From A Mountain
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday at 7:00 AM Mountain Time. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
Follow him on
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com(c) 2015 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved
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Hey son, it’s after 3:00 AM. Wake up.
Yeah, I’m awake.
Let’s get going. We don’t want to be late.
I heard him start to gather his gear in the darkened tent. Most people picture the wilderness as a place to get away. Solitude. Communing with nature. They don’t think of it as a place where it’s impossible to get a good night’s sleep because of the 24 hour party.
Welcome to the Timpooneke trail to Mt Timpanogos. We had selected what seemed to be a somewhat out of the way campsite. We were off the main trail about 200 yards. Unfortunately, the thin mountain air, and the surrounding granite walls meant that sound travelled incredibly well. Other campers, some as far as a quarter mile away, were less interested in a good night’s sleep and an early start.
I woke up at 3:05 without the need of an alarm. Of course, I had also woken up at 12:30, 1:45 and 2:15 thanks to our raucous neighbors.
I work in a call center. Our agents start their first shift at 5:30 AM. As I struggled into my clothes in the dark of the tent, I thought about the fact that some agents got up at this time every morning. It made me grateful for my job. I can pretty much show up whenever I choose to in the morning. I work in Salt Lake City and live 40 miles south in Pleasant Grove. It’s 90% freeway driving, but 50% of that Freeway is being renovated. I choose to start the 45 minute drive to work around 5:45 most days. It beats the traffic.
Our hike had similar logistics. Mt Timpanogos is the most climbed peak in Utah. Those members of our group who had done the hike before warned us to expect a lot of people.
Pretty much the trail stays busy all night long.
Our hike was the night of the epic moon. It was huge in the sky.
As soon as we hit the trail the moon was masked by the trees and canyon walls. Each of us was walking in a tiny glow of our own headlamp.
At times we could look up and see the headlamps of previous hikers marking the trail like a string of Christmas lights in the darkness.
After my misadventures of the previous day (How I Got Lost For The First Time) my son opted to hike with me. I’m a slow hiker. My knees are about 20 years older than I am. Even in the best of times they pop and creak. We’d hiked four miles the previous day. Today was 16 miles; seven to get to the top and 9 to get back to the parking lot. Our group leader was worried about me. He wasn’t the only one.
Rodney, how you holding up?
You go ahead. I’ll make it. But, if I don’t, pick me up on the way down.
Ibuprofen was my friend; breakfast of champions. Eventually, our group got spread out on the trail. My son and I were hiking with another dad and his son. None of us were setting any speed records. My son, I’m sure could have.
When he was 12, we went on a scout hike that involved about 8,000 feet of vertical rise and fall. My son, is short, and his pack was big. The scoutmaster and I hiked at the back with my son right in front of us. It was hours on the trail. My knees protested and we limped along, the scoutmaster refusing to leave us. Eventually, we dragged into the springs were we were having dinner. The scoutmaster pulled me aside.
Rodney, I have to say, I’m impressed with your boy.
Why’s that?
I’ve done this hike every year. There’s always that scout who is slow. But, normally about half way to the springs they want to give up. Your son kept going and never once asked us to carry his gear.
Yeah, he’s kind of like that. He spent this last summer building trails in the LaSal mountains of southern Utah. When we went to pick him up his crew chief commented that he was one of the hardest workers on the crew. . .and the fastest up the trail.
He certainly didn’t have to slow his pace to hike with me. I have to admit, I was glad he did. The milies crawled by. As we climbed we eventually caught sight of the cities in the valley below.
The trail became more agressive and our rests became more frequent. The other boy in our group was really laboring. His father was trying the find various ways to encourage him and keep him going. The clock was not our friend. The three AM start time was designed to get us to the peak just before sunrise. We had been well off the pace from the beginning. Finally, the other dad made a decision.
You guys go on ahead. We’re not going to make the summit, but we don’t want to slow you down.
If the kid was hiking slower than me, he was really doing poorly. The ibeprofen had kicked in and my knees were not complaining at the moment. My son and I pushed on. Or rather, I pushed, he pulled me. Not physcially, but he set a pace just fast enough to pull me along.
Other than the lights snaking up the mountain, it was impossible to see anything. I thought how much harder it is to pursue a goal you can’t see. It was 7 miles from our camp to the peak. How far is seven miles? 36,960 feet. But, in the darkness, it was endless. One foot in front of the other. Stumble over a rock. Recover. Next step. One foot at a time.
And then, off to our left we noticed a change. It was subtle at first, just a hint of slightly fewer stars. But, eventually, we recognized that dawn was approaching. I still had no idea how far we were from the summit. And I had no idea if my knees, which had started aching again, were up to the miles of trail and hundreds of vertical feet we still had to go.
Yesterday: How I Got Lost In the Wasatch On My Way to the Summit
Tomorrow: The Make Or Break Point
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday at 7:00 AM Mountain Time. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
Follow him on
Twitter (@rodneymbliss)
Facebook (www.facebook.com/rbliss)
LinkedIn (www.LinkedIn.com/in/rbliss)
or email him at rbliss at msn dot com(c) 2015 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved
Tell your friends about this!
No. I’m not lost. The trail is right there behind me.
Okay, so how come there is no trail in front of you?
I’m not lost. I just have to get to the meadow above Scout Falls.
There’s no trail.
That wide spot in the bush looks like it leads to the top.
That’s a wide spot because bushes can’t grow on rock walls.
I can make it up that wall.
It’s a cliff.
It’s a SMALL cliff.
If you fall and injure yourself, no one will EVER find you here.
Shut up, Conscience!
Last weekend I did two things I had never done before. The first was I attempted to climb Mt Timpanogos. It’s the most dominate mountain in the Utah county portion of the Wasatch range. It’s 11, 752 feet tall. Our 14 and 15 year old scouts do this hike every year. I didn’t have time to go. I’ve got a ton of stuff that I should have done.
My 15 year old son decided he wanted to go.
My schedule suddenly cleared up. It actually didn’t, but I went through one of those, “Twenty years from now, what do I want to remember about this weekend?” exercises. Do I want to remember that I spent it studying and working, or do I want to remember that I climbed 2 miles into the sky with my son.
It was an easy choice.
I’m a scout leader for our younger scouts (12 and 13 year olds.) When you are the leader, you have to be responsible. You have to plan. You have to keep track of boys. You have to bring extra gear “just in case.”
When you are not the leader, but instead are just going as a dad, you are just responsible for yourself. In fact, since I wasn’t sure I was going until the last minute, I even took my own food. This was a backpacking trip. We were planning to hike in about 2 miles on Friday, camp Friday night and get up early Saturday morning to try for the summit at sunrise.
The trip started well enough. I have a very comfortable backback and while my water was a little heavy, overall, my pack was pretty comfortable. It was about 40 lbs. Sixteen pounds of that was water. This is Utah, and it’s a desert, and it’s August. The other leaders were taking water purifiers. But, I wasn’t taking chances. I packed 8 liters of water, about 2 gallons.
As we started from the parking lot, the boys ran on ahead. The adults took a more leisurely pace. I enjoyed my lack of responsibility. I had even forgone my normal practice of taking a map. I wouldn’t need it. I was hiking with a group and they were experienced with the area.
We hiked for the first mile and a half in the wrong direction.
Is that a road down there?
Yeah, I don’t remember hiking next to a road last year.
Hang on. Was there a sign on that bridge back there?
The boys in their enthusiasm had picked the wrong trail and we simply followed them. As we turned around (after one leader ran ahead to chase down the boys) I remarked, “Next time, I’m bringing my own map.”
We retraced our steps all the way to the parking lot before we found the right trail. Funny thing, the right trail had a sign pointing us toward the summit.
Again, the young men set the pace. This time led by the leader who’d done the hike previously. I, as always was part of the last group. I’m a slow hiker. I know it. I don’t even try to keep up with the youth. I could tell I was also holding back the other two adults I was with. Finally, they left me with a “just follow the trail, we’re camping in the meadow above Scout Falls,” and picked up their pace.
Okay, simple enough. I’ve hiked many canyons in Utah. There are very few turns. (Canyons make that difficult.) I trudged on, my creaky knees already warning me about the pain to come.
I didn’t expect the fork in the trail. I also didn’t see a rock cairn. A cairn is a pile of rocks that serves as a road maker for those following behind you. I kind of wished I’d brought a map. I looked at the two paths and both looked equally likely. A verse from Robert Frost sprang to mind.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;. . .
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I –
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
– The Road Not Taken-
I turned left. I later learned my group had turned right.
Earlier I mentioned I did two things I’d never done before. The first was to attempt to climb Timp. The second? I got lost. Right there with Robert Frost whispering in my ear, I became lost. I didn’t know I was lost for a long time. If I had know, I might have turned back sooner. Okay, I never actually turned back. But, I might have if I’d know.
My trail looked just as appealing
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
As I walked I could hear water. Ah ha! Scout Falls. I was headed in the right direction. My wrong path didn’t immediately look bad. The first indication that I might be on the wrong path was the rock slide. It was very stable, very rocky and very tall. About 300 feet at a fairly steep angle. Would you assume it was the wrong way? We were climbing a mountain! This seemed perfectly normal.
The scramble up the rock slide was also the first time I seriously thought about what a pecarious position I was in. I was off the main trail, I was alone, and serveral times I nearly lost my balance and toppled over backward. Remember that 40 lbs backpack? Yeah, it kept throwing off my balance.
After a sweat-soaked scramble up the rocks, I was rewarded by the falls themselves. And best of all, there was a clearly defined trail. Unfortunately, it went left and right. The falls were not the end point.
Now what? Left or right? Robert Frost was really not helping. I gazed left as far as possible and then looked right. The trail to the left seems slightly more worn. (Had I gone right, I would have hit the main trail in 100 ft.) So, off I went to the left. And it was at this point I started having conversations with my conscience. The trail curve toward the rock wall. The angle got steeper. I secured my walking stick to my pack so I could have both hands free to climb. The trail got narrower and narrower, and then I hit the wall.
Literally, there was a wall. It appeared to be the last obstacle keeping me from the top of the falls. Remember, the boys and we were camping in the meadow above the falls. I only had another 15 feet, and once I got clear from the underbrush, I’d be there, although by an unconventional route.
A tree grew along the top of the wall, It’s trunk twisted over time by the harsh Alpine winters. Taking my maple walking stick I wedged it between two sections of the trunk. keeping a firm grip on it, I clawed for toeholds, my heavy leather boots slipping on the granite wall. A toehold here, a knee brace there, my free hand clutching at tree limbs, all the while my backpack and its protruding tent and sleeping pad pulling me backwards, I finally scrambled over the top. I literally fell against the branches blocking my path to force them to give way.
But, I made it. I was above the falls. Now to get out of this thicket and find the meadow.
I made it out of the thicket. I found the meadow. But, there were no boys. There were no camping spots. There was no trail. There was a 70 ft granite wall that stretched from one side of the canyon to the other, a distance of about a mile or more.
For the first time, I seriously considered that I might not be getting out of here tonight. The sun was headed for the horizon. Night comes quickly to the canyons. I figured I had about two hours of daylight left.
I wasn’t scared. I was annoyed. I admit I was lost. And I kicked myself for not bringing my own map. But, I had a fully stocked backpack. I had food for two days. I had eight liters of water, plenty for two days. I had a lighter and a good knife. There was plenty of dry wood if I needed a fire. I was carrying the tent that my son and I were planning to use.
But, I was still lost. I finally decided that I was willing to ask for help.
HELLO!!
My voice echoed off the wall on the far side of the canyon. But, other than my own voice, and my annoying conscience, there was no answering call. I made my way across the meadow to the base of the granite cliff. There was no chance I was scaling this cliff. It now became obvious that the trail was to the right, not the left.I found a thin game trail along the base of the cliff. I turned right and continued on.
Was I lost? Mostly. I knew that if I walked far enough to the right, which was North, I would either cross the trail or I would reach the granite wall that I could see a mile ahead running perpendicular to the wall I was hugging.
I decided I was going to stay at the base of the cliff as long as possible. It would keep me from walking in circles, and it was also a highly visible location, no vegitation to block the search and rescue planes. (Yes, I was seriously thinking what I would say to the S&R teams when they were called out to find me.)
The trail eventually turned away from the cliff and headed down into a swamp. I stood and stared for a long time at that swamp. I wanted no part of it. A couple hundred feet below me a bull moose stared out at me from under a group of trees. I could tell he was saying, “You’re lost, buddy.”
There was really no other choice but to try to make my way through the mass of broken branches, devil’s club, thistles and five foot high grasses that are the parodoxical high-mountain-desert-swamp. The cliff was still to my left and I could see I was less than a quarter mile from the connecting cliff. If I didn’t stumble across the trail soon, it would mean that I was REALLY lost and the trail was actually on the other side of the cliff facing me.
The swamp was as bad as I had feared. I stumpled over logs, and pushed through branches. Thorns scratched at my legs through my thin hiking pants. (I was really happy I don’t wear shorts.)
DAD!
The voice of my son caught me off guard. Glancing up at the cliff to my left, I saw him standing and waving his arms.
DAD, ARE YOU ON THE TRAIL?
Not exactly.
I found out that the other leader had left a note scratched in the dirt at the fork in the trail. Either someone walked over it, or I simply didn’t see it. Amazingly, I was only about 15 minutes behind the rest of the group arriving at the second meadow above the falls.. They didn’t even realize I had been missing.
An inauspicious beginning. My knees hurt. My back hurt. And we hadn’t even started the challenging part of the hike.
Tomorrow: Waking up at 3:00 AM for a climb in the dark.
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday at 7:00 AM Mountain Time. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
Follow him on
Twitter (@rodneymbliss)
Facebook (www.facebook.com/rbliss)
LinkedIn (www.LinkedIn.com/in/rbliss)
or email him at rbliss at msn dot com(c) 2015 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved
