By Guest Blogger, Eli VanderBilt, Climb for a Cause climber
Climb for a Cause is a program in which community members and employees from local companies and foundations show their love for Washington’s national parks by participating in fundraising climbs on Mount Rainier, Mount Shuksan (North Cascades) or Mount Olympus (Olympics).
Eli VanderBilt is a 3D Technical Artist at the Allen Institute for AI in Seattle, Washington. He joined Washington’s National Park Fund staff and Board members on a climb of Mount Rainier, led by guides from Alpine Ascents International (AAI), at the end of July 2021. While the group ultimately didn’t summit due to weather, all who participated had an incredible experience learning about authentic mountaineering. After the team safely made it off the Mountain, Eli shared his perspective on the climb:
As most of you know, I took on Mount Rainier last weekend for a third time, thanks to the wonderful fundraising efforts of friends, family, and all-around nature-lovers. And on the morning of our climb, the shared stories of mutual activism between everyone involved made new friendships easy, and fast.
You see, for nearly a year and a half now, this pandemic has been a foil to everything that drives my life.
I consider myself a goal-oriented person, unfazed by setbacks or failures so long as I have the opportunity to learn from them and achieve the milestones I set for myself. But COVID was unique. Piece-by-piece, all of the factors that steered my ambition were taken away. My connections to coworkers became restricted behind plates of rigid, digital glass. My desire to socialize plummeted as even the most basic safety precautions between strangers were by-and-large ignored. Even my spiritual health suffered, forbidden from its therapeutic exercise at my local gym. And when I lamented these sacrifices to some of my newer friends, I lost them too, finding only overzealous scorn and disdain for not giving them up sooner. COVID forced me to confront a new challenge: how do you act to overcome a crisis where action itself is the first casualty?
The answer is still a mystery to me, and frankly, I have no desire to dwell on it. No one knows, and nobody got through this pandemic unscathed. But even as things steadily improved, breaking out of my somber rut proved far more difficult than expected. Somewhere along the line, my penchant for chasing after new horizons had diminished. Whether it was insulation from society, less-than-responsible lifestyle choices, or just getting more cynical, I couldn’t say. But ultimately, this is the perspective from which I jumped at the opportunity to attempt Rainier. Because if I could just achieve one clear, old-fashioned goal, reaching a mountaintop that I’d had my sights on long before COVID ever existed, perhaps it would rekindle some of that fire. I had no idea how right I was…
When you commit yourself to an overnight expedition across steep, rocky slopes, crevasse-filled glaciers, and long, exhausting stretches of blinding-white snow, it demands clear direction, physical fitness, mental fortitude, and strong communication between everyone involved.
In other words, it’s the confluence of everything COVID is not. And for three days, I was fully entrenched in that environment, surrounded by some of the coolest and most authentic hikers I’d ever met.
Our lead guide in particular, one David Gottlieb, was an incredible storyteller with a relatable, down-to-earth passion for life. He was fully transparent about our progress as well, from Paradise Inn, to Camp Muir, all the way up to Ingraham Flats, where we spent our last night camped out on the glacier. Throughout the journey, all of the skills I’d neglected during the pandemic came rushing back in full force, like recalling a long-forgotten memory.
Strength, determination, and positivity were all critical to our success, and everyone involved brought their A-game, sharing food, breaking each others’ falls, and exchanging ideas no matter how hard things got. In a true testament to this affinity, when we were ultimately rained out of going any further than Ingraham Flats, on account of treacherous rockslides caused by water-slicked cliffs, I barely cared. Somehow, on this desolate, rain-soaked excursion that had ended in failure, I felt more fulfilled than I had in over a year.
It’s a skill, and just like any skill, it must be actively cultivated and reinforced down to the most fundamental level. It’s the eagerness you feel to get out of bed each morning. It’s the passion you carry to work, professional or otherwise. It’s the natural kinship that manifests from good values when you engage with other thinkers. It’s the momentum you discover as you find yourself shifting seamlessly from one task to the next, turning your day into something akin to art, greater than the sum of its pieces. And at the end of that day, it’s the peace of mind you feel in a life well-lived.
I, for one, intend to deliberately seek out more peace from now on, thanks to my journey up a snowy mountain called Rainier…
Thanks for sharing, Eli! Interested readers can learn more about Climb for a Cause on our website.