Guy et moi...

I am in Bozeman watching the light come upon the land long dark cold night that it was. Over coffee I ponder the death of Guy Lacelle what if anything it all means. Having watched the Doug Chabot video I see how he died but the why eludes me. Was this competition and these lifeless gulleys worth a man's life?

No. They cannot be. Over Facebook I chat with Stephanie who knows Guy she is French possessed of that uniquely French fatalism, yes Rob, it could ahve been you but it could be any of us. Rob Fullerton has more the tally, his Freezing Gravity image exhibition now has 3 of the ten featured climbers now deceased, I am one of the seven still standing and frankly the math disturbs me.

Just the same I AM excited very much about my climbing, the new Fusion 2 is a remarkable instrument which I have used gleefully in my wooden cave almost every day so that my shoulders ache my tendinitis growls like a hurt animal in the corner. But what fun and climbing should be fun so it should not kill you nor your treasured friends.

After all, if Eric Deglerc should ever come back from Afghanistan and hold Festiglace du Quebec again who would be my partner? Not Guy, now... There is a hole in the universe in his leaving that I have stepped into stumbling over my own mortality. Last week on my birthday my partner was too drunk/stoned/disinterested to show up for our day of climbing so I went alone. I went up Secret Probation solo on a very cold morning with the ice like marble talking myself through this madness I say out loud "CONTROL YOUR FEAR" so I am not a crumpled bleeding heap on the cruel ground.

But Fusion 2 carried me through that and the years spent off the ground without a rope, that and my new outfit which made me FEEL strong competent. Which I really am toiling away in my home-made cave running across the frozen golf-course huffing like an old dog, so what?

For this is all gravy now, isn't it? I've done my climbs let others do their's let them eat cake. There is no one to impress now the younger climbers can phone me when the are over 40 or 45 let me know if they can still climb if they are even alive to do so. I have tried to puzzle this Guy thing out but truly there is no kharmic lesson gravity never fails in its task always vigilant ever patient. It's just that the Craig Luebben-John Bachar-Guy Lacelle trilogy in the last six months featured three older "masters" two of whom I've climbed with all of whom were accomplished soloists. I see the circle constrict with me still at the dwindling center most climbers of my generation having ceded to fat bald-dom or oblivion so should I continue if so, why?

Becasue it's fun I suppose. Buried somewhere in all the events amid the gear-mannequin poseurs resides this great activity, ice-climbing.

For that it's worth continuing...