Climbing Blind

It was one of those "you know you live in Colorado when..." moments.  My family and I had just moved to a small town in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains.  We visited a small church on Lookout Mountain overlooking the continental divide.  The time came when people prayed aloud and we heard, "... and please keep my husband safe.  He's climbing Mount Everest and might summit this week if the weather holds out.  Please help the whole team, especially Erik, who is blind.  Amen."

Blind?  Mt. Everest?  You've got to be kidding. 

Nope.

I had a chance to meet Erik Weihenmayer and see his slide show last month.  Here's a guy who won't let convention, common sense or genuine concern discourage him.  John Krakauer wrote to Erik, ""I am not at all enthusiastic about your trip to Everest next spring," he wrote. "It's not that I doubt you have what it takes to reach the summit.... It's just that I don't think you can get to the top of that particular hill without subjecting yourself to horrendous risk, the same horrendous risk all Everest climbers face, and then some."  Mountaineer Ed Viesturs and others also called to talk Erik out of the trip.   On May 25, 2001 Erik and his entire climbing team summited Everest - the first and only blind climber to reach the world's tallest peak.

Not only has Erik climbed Everest, but he can claim the elusive "Seven Summits" - the highest mountain on each of the seven continents. 

What struck me about Erik was his attitude.  I expected him to be egotistical, arrogant and defiant.  Maybe even careless.  Instead, I found him to be highly self-aware, a fast learner, humble, and very adaptable.  He learned to climb as a child, and knows his boundaries and how to work around them.  He recognizes that his accomplishments are not only the result of individual skill and strength, but equally the collaboration of a team.

Erik's web sites are ClimbingBlind.org  and  Touch the Top.  Here's a great article in Outside Magazine.  Click more for an interview with Fast Company.

Call Erik Weihenmayer, as he does, an "unrealistic optimist." Weihenmayer, 35, was the first blind climber to scale Mt. Everest--an adventure he described in Touch the Top of the World (Penguin Putnam, 2001). He still climbs 50 days a year. But he also plans climbs for blind Tibetan children and talks to corporate crowds about seeing the world in different ways. Fast Company spoke with Weihenmayer about blue ice, alchemy, and the view from the top.

Fast Company: Why climb mountains, when you can't see the view at the top?

Weihenmayer: I love the beauty of it. I love the feeling of the rock under my gloves. I love the idea of adventure. I love figuring things out. And I like strategically surrounding myself with good people who make me stronger.

FC: But needless to say, a blind guy faces a unique set of problems--and risks.

Weihenmayer: Definitely. When I started ice climbing--climbing frozen waterfalls--a lot of people said I was crazy, that I'd kill myself. A sighted person is looking for blue ice, healthy ice, instead of white, rotten ice. I can't do that. So I'd tap my tool against the ice and listen for the sound and learn to judge the quality of the ice by the sounds my tool makes. There are so many ways to climb a mountain. I think people get trapped into thinking about just one way of doing things. Figuring out ways to cross those lines, that's where the adventure lies.

FC: What do you look for in teammates?

Weihenmayer: I look for people who have an unrealistic optimism about life. I hear people say, "Seeing is believing." I want people who believe the opposite, "Believing is seeing." You've got to believe first in what you're doing and be sure you have a reason to believe it. You can tell who those people are. You say, "Hey, want to climb Everest with a blind guy?" Pretty quickly, you'll figure out who's a believer.

FC: So anything is possible?

Weihenmayer: No--there are limits. I mean, I can't drive a car. But there are good questions and bad questions in life. The bad questions are what-if questions. What if I were smarter, or stronger? What if I could see? Those are dead-end questions. A good question is, How do I do as much as I can with what I have?

FC: You turn lemons into lemonade.

Weihenmayer: Or more. My friend Hugh Herr lost both legs in an ice-climbing accident; he became an engineer and developed prosthetic legs and feet made out of rubber, and he's a better climber now than ever. I call people like him alchemists. You can pile a lot of lead on them, but they'll figure out a way to transform it into something good. Life isn't fair. You've just got to take what happens and make it work for you. So when I'm climbing some hard rock 1,000 feet up, I'm not thinking, "If I could see that hold up there, life would be so much easier." I just think, "Thank God I'm up here."

Comments

[Darlene Atwater]

I met Erik almost 17 years ago. I was dating his brother at the time. I spent two weeks with Erik in his Conneticut home while Ed was in Florida job searching.

Obviously Erik has matured since then but his spirit of adventure and optimism seems to be stronger than ever.

He was a joker, playful, and mischievous. He kept me entertained. We had toilet paper fights which would seem pretty unfair but his keen sense of hearing put one in the side of my head on more than one occasion.

We went water skiing. Surprise, surprise...Erik was up there! I got motion sickness on the boat. I was able to fall asleep in the hot sun only to have Erik throw a bucket of cold water on me.

When we went out to eat, he'd would push food out of his mouth and pretend he was "mentally challenged". I was so appalled but his lack of vision kept him from the embarassment.

I used to nude sunbathe. I didn't think much of it with him around until he told me he wasn't completely blind. He said he could see shadows and outlines. I got dressed pretty quick only to learn from his dad later that he wasn't telling the truth.

It's hard for me to imagine the dignified Erik portrayed in the media but knowing his father, it's not impossible. His father had high expectations for his children as any father should. I was impressed that he never treated Erik any different. It wasn't hard though. Erik made you forget he was blind.

I was fortunate to know and spend time with Erik. I can honestly say that I never heard him complain about his blindness or even remotely whine about the challenges he endured. He is truly a gift to this world.