Ate some cereal, had a look off the back deck toward the massive suspension bridge being built nearby. Alex and I later talked a bit about how those things are put up, apparently he worked with someone who'd helped winch up the suspension cables so I got an interesting breakdown on how those bridges are assembled. I got some writing done, and sent some e-mails out to make plans for Japan.
I did have one plan for today, and that was to go and interview Alex at work. I wanted to see what it was like to build elevators all day, where he ended up, what the work was like, how much he enjoyed it...it was pretty interesting to get to step inside a half-built building and see the space on top of an elevator that I'd heard so much about from Alex (and from my uncle, who also works with elevators) that had previously existed only in my imagination.
Alex answered a bunch of questions for me that were very interesting to hear about while in the environment we were discussing...it was much more immersive...i'd love to interview more people AS they do what they love to do. I'm going to try and do more of that.
My day was a little more mundane after my chat with Alex. Picked up a hard drive to back up my stuff, had a sandwich, putted around Vancouver. Alex had mentioned in passing the Grouse Grind, which is a mountain climb you can do nearby in Capilano. Grouse is a ski hill most of the year, but in the summer months, there's an incredibly steep trail to take you up the mountain. I did some reading on it, and this is what I learned....
The trail is 2.9 kilometres long.
There are 2830 stairs (that's about as many as the CN tower).
The elevation gain is 2800 feet (that's a little over 1000 feet taller than the CN tower.)
And, oh yes, there are eleven year old kids that do this on a weekly basis. Just to make you feel better about the shape you're in.
After a quick drive out to Capilano, we stepped into the woods at the side of the mountain. The trail was fairly packed...at no point were we alone, and every person of every persuasion, every level of physicality, every age group, everyone was on that hike. It's really funny though noticing how the people change as you climb. The first ten minutes, people are chatting amicably with each other, setting their headphones in their ears, cracking jokes to each other, and some kids coming down (which you aren't supposed to do) will joke at you going, oh yeah, no problem, you're nearly there!
This all changes quite quickly.
After about 15, 20 minutes, all you hear is laboured breathing. People concentrate only on their feet, and the ground one step in front of them. People linger on one side of the path or the other, either to pass, or to let someone by. You hear footsteps, the occasional bird, and heavy, constant breathing. Most of it is your own.
After about half an hour, you start seeing people stopped. Some for water, some just to catch their breath. Some to take in the view but most people are just there to grind, not to look. The most hardcore just keep on pressing on. The average time for the grind is between an hour, and an hour and a half. The record holder has done it in 23 minutes. I shudder to think of the effort that requires.
Once you pass the halfway marker, it starts to get easier. You have a brief moment of fear and doubt where you think "Good god....i've only come halfway? I was sure this was three quarters of the way or more" and then you think, "Well, I've already done this distance once, might as well do it a second time. Can't be that much harder!"
And it's not.
It's strange how much you get inside your own head when your concentration is so sharp and specific. Your breathing pulls you right inside, behind your eyes, and you feel like you're all alone. You remember being alone, and you think the way you do when you're alone, and yet in truth, you're surrounded by dozens, even hundreds of people on the trail, upward and down, panting, lifting tired legs, and trying to move onward the same as you. But you don't process them exactly, they're just background noise. Part of the landscape. You're all by yourself on those steps.
I start thinking about strange things when i'm alone. I start thinking about how the halfway sign messes with your head. I felt a little manipulated by the mountain, and I started thinking about how it would be funny to post extremely convoluted signs: "Halfway to the three-quarter mark of part-way to the signpost for the halfway point!" You wouldn't have time to be elated or overcome...you'd just be puzzled and retreat inside your head going "Halfway to the...and so that's the mark at around...and how far is that from...hmm..." and before you know it, you'd be at the top.
You start to glimpse mountaintops through the trees instead of just more trees. You start to feel the lightness of the air, and hear the background sounds of the city fall away. You start hearing helicopters whiz past at eye level. But as the trail grows steeper. all you hear is your breathing, and the pounding of your blood in your ears, through your head.
Eventually you start hearing the whoops of joy, as people pass beyond the tree barrier and break out into the open sky. The grind has been ground, the steps ascended and life can go on as it once did, horizontally. We discovered at the top that there's a further peak with a windmill on top. Most folks take a chairlift up there, so being the stubborn folks we are, we decided to walk up.
Alex, with windmill.
We found snow! In July! None of the Revelstoke water-as-soon-as-it-hits-the-ground sort of snow that I encountered on the drive in, but real, live, make-snowballs-if-you-want snow! Naturally, we made snowballs!
It was absolutely surreal, you climb up a mountain, sweating out everything you've ever had to drink, take in a beautiful panoramic sun-soaked view, and then throw snowballs. This is why people are attracted to the west coast I think...it defies logic, and the power nature has here is far more imposing, far more tangible. Far more bizarre.
I asked Alex what he'd thought about the Grind, while it was still fresh in his head. Mountaintop interviews are the best kind...you feel awfully uninhibited.
Vancouver, from above
On the chairlift back down we relaxed, and talked about how satisfied we were. Both of us felt really energized, in spite of our earlier efforts, and we came to the conclusion that it's the sense of accomplishment that energizes you. Yes, exercise has a hand in it too, but when you set out to do something that's difficult and potentially beyond your means, and you do it, and complete it, and this whole cycle from beginning to end takes place over the course of a very short time (less than a day) it's overwhelmingly satisfying, and that feeling of accomplishment can take you places. That's what powers you...that's what energizes you...that sense of "Yes...I did that. Now, I can do anything."
The big question is, what do we do now?
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