Present day nostalgia

Sitting here reading through my google reader subscriptions I followed a few links and was not only inspired but somewhat humbled. As a climber and skier my values are often challenged, every season the market is flooded with a new line up of skis, new climbing shoes with stickier rubber, new jackets with the latest in breathable weather protection. It's easy to be drawn into the materialism of new and better, perhaps skiing or climbing will be just that much more enjoyable if I have the latest or greatest "thing" out there.

At the same time I am often reminded of my roots. No, I wasn't born back in the age of hemp ropes or woolen sweaters. I grew up and learned to climb in the days of Patagonia fleece, dynamic ropes, and boreal fires (remember how to pronounce that). Yet from even in my early childhood I was drawn to the simple life, there was always something about that era of leather boots and wooden skis that gives me a sense of nostalgia. Perhaps it wasn't so much the equipment, but the personalities of eras past. Maybe I'm romanticizing, but there was something about the determination of those that inhabited and sought beauty in the alpine environment that leaves much to be desired in our fast paced modern lives. We've managed to minimize risk and make the alpine world more accessible, but by removing some of the challenge have we also removed some of the reward? I'm not necessarily referring to those that are constantly pushing the envelope in good style, the Steve House's and the Chris Sharma's, but to those everyday climbers and skiers that depend entirely upon technology for their achievements.



Am I willing to trade in my dynamic 70m 10 mm rope for a heave static hemp rope, and swap my softshell for a boiled wool sweather and oiled cotton anorak? Probably not, but the search for pristine alpine granite, untouched and untracked powder far beyond the crowds is still an ideal. It's not about the grades, it's not about how steep or deep. It's about communing with nature, being out in a beautiful place. Yet, it's also about being aware of our own place and our own impact. Learning when to say enough is enough, that I can squeeze another year or two out of my current skis even though they aren't "wide enough" by today's standards. It's about learning to say that my jacket still serves it's purpose despite not being the latest technology or color scheme.

We can't go back to the golden ages of alpinism, but we can still find our own challenges and define our own values. We can still question our own motives and define our own criteria for success. I am convinced that it's not about the highest mountains or the hardest lines, but about style.