Four things you can do to respond to racism wherever it exists: at the grocery store, local crag, trailhead and beyond.
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I wish I understood at an earlier age that your interests and passions are yours alone to choose. Don’t feel the need to fit perfectly inside a mold.
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And each time I turned around I felt like a complete failure! Maybe it’s the universe’s way of telling me to pick another hobby. A safer hobby. A warmer hobby. In fact, each time I fail, I tend to go through the complete stages of grief. Seriously! I go through denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and the hardest one, acceptance.
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I’ve purchased my flights and cleared my work schedule. This isn’t just another random vacation; today I’ve selected my next mountaineering objective. It’s no longer merely a lofty vision. There is a sense of palpability every time I glance at those chosen days on the calendar. This adventure that has captured my attention for years is coming nearer with each day. In these times of alpine anticipation, the wise will prepare and capture each valuable minute.
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I can't help but dwell on the idea of where my relentless drive and fiery passion for doing something different, something unusual, despite my race, gender, small stature, and yes, even fear of heights. Although, when I look back, it's easy to realize it was primarily due to my mom and people like her who believed in me, even when I went through phases of not believing in myself.
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I have always lived in predominately all-white communities, and with that, feminine beauty typically meant white or light skinned, tall, skinny, long hair, delicate features, and ladylike—the epitome of Eurocentric standards. Sorry, not sorry, I don't fit those standards...
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“You’re going to be alright,” I glanced down and whispered to a broken man struggling through an ice climbing nightmare. My eyes darted quickly between the Korean rescue worker helping to stabilize the opposite side of the stretcher, over my shoulder at the fifty feet of steep ice awaiting our descent, and back to the contorted face of the injured climber.
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Trekking is what I do to get to the mountain. Add a little bit of technicality and people drop right off, each increase of technicality allows you to have a little more solitude, more wilderness, you can go further and further.
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In the first few hundred feet up the Bukhan Mountain (Bukhansan) trail near Seoul, South Korea, I realized that I had found my second home. The mountains were full of eager weekend warriors all seeking altitude and grand vistas.
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I was struggling to stay warm and keep my food down, I was anxious to start moving again whether it was ascending or descending I didn't care.
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We spent the day covering crevasse travel and rescue, kick and plunge stepping, snow anchors, digging an avalanche snow pit, and taking turns sliding down a hill to practice self-arresting, a technique vital for mountaineering if you fall.
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