DAVETHOMAS90 said:
Hoseyb said:
Acceptable risk depends on perceived risk.
At no point had I entered into a scenario where I wasn't confident I could mitigate the risk of death for instance.
Risks I have accepted are injury (non permanent), pain, and the aftermath of trauma.
A climbing example would be the fa of Twll Love in Twll Mawr. I was confident enough that I could reverse thrusters to safety if I could detect the wheels coming off. Indeed when my chosen line ramped up the technicalities above a cobweb of inadequate gear. Rather than giving in to the sirens call, I looked for the exits and accepted an inferior line. Close call though as the moves looked delicious, but probably deadly.
A non climbing adventure was my doomed attempt to coasteer Cilan Head. Again a lot of planning went in, but then a navigational error led us to start from the other end (Doris) from our plan. Unforeseen risk (strong easterly currents and a sea floor magnifying the swell) almost chopped me, however my partner in the adventure was able to organise a rescue and retreat. I guess he was my planned for mitigating factor. However, it was a close call.
I love your use of language Hosey. The video is great too.
I grew up on a diet of coasteering and dicey retreats on the North Devon coast 8)
The relative scale of you and the big hole captures the essence well. The big flake reminds me of Spacewalk on Lundy. That was a great adventure, snuck in quickly before catching the ferry back, although it fell down later..!
Regarding risk - or rather consequences - on anything harder, I'd mentally prepare for the worst, mainly because you can't really climb well enough if you're not fully committed. I believe there's an element of that at all levels though. If you're soloing something because "you know you can do it", you're probably in a very dangerous position.
I have never been a bold climber, despite all my scrapes and adventures. I am, in truth, desperately scared of heights (I don’t believe I’ve actually told anybody that before, that wasn’t a very close friend) and it’s always been the biggest single drag on my climbing. If I don’t spend enough time, in enough exposure, to maintain a level of acclimatisation, I have to start from scratch and that takes a great deal of emotional effort. Learning to pilot helicopters was both a deliberate attempt to overcome that fear and an internal ordeal as great as any in my life. I find it easier to cope with mountaineering exposure than pure rockface exposure, too, and I don’t know why. I have Fast Roped out of Helo’s and jumped from them and still go and deliberately jump off very high cliffs and it’s really me, still, trying to quash that weakness and trying to convince myself that it hasn’t taken every ounce of my will power to do so. When climbing, I will make all sorts of excuses about being pumped out etc, when I’m actually just unable to overcome my fear on that day, because I just can’t get my head straight. Yet I have still made some quite hard ascents in places like the Verdon and the Dolomites etc and been leading multi pitch trad since I was 12. I’ve never been able to muster more than E4/5 though. I backed off Eroica three times as a youngster (18/19) before I manage to push through. Darkinbad, went down with similar angst and a very understanding buddy, but a good three years later.
I have, frequently, gone into situations and expeditions, with very real expectations of not coming back or not coming back whole. I don’t think I ever did any sort of mental preparation for that, though, just lots and lots of physical training and theoretical prep and planning, as if that could control the dice. I can pin point the exact moment I stopped (woke up?). I was really quite obsessed with getting back onto the U533 (and my career, but different story) and the whole Technical Diving world. However, my life had changed, without my actually acknowledging it yet. My wife was six months pregnant with No.1.
Technical Diving, at that level, was months of training and planning, for 10 minutes at depth and a couple of hours of decompression and ascent in the blue. We were still predominantly open circuit divers, but a couple of the team had begun a transition into closed circuit rebreathers. We were on a training dive on the wreck of the Innes, around 25km off Fujairah when one of those rebreathers exploded (O2 leak and a spark/compression ignition, who knows. There was a pop and it went off like a rocket pack, burning almost instantly through the Fiberglass deck of our boat and igniting the fuel tank).
Anyway, bobbing around in the Indian Ocean, with a chunk of plastic shrapnel in my leg, watching all of our carefully prepared survival equipment and multiple comms devices/radios/flares etc, vanish in smoke; lead to a realisation that I really wasn’t in any sort of control over my own destiny, in any shape or form and that continuing wasn’t an option (actually, at that moment I had no real hope of being rescued or making a miraculous swim to shore).
It wasn’t the first epic of my life, but it was the first where I had neglected a responsibility to another human that depended on me. Breaking a loved one’s heart was a selfishly acceptable risk, leaving my child without a parent, I realised was unacceptable. Unfortunately I had to have that beaten into my thick skull the hard way.
So, I went from simply dealing with risk, by ignoring it, to using it as my primary determinant.
I am, 16 years later, finding that surprisingly difficult and have very itchy feet. All of my kids are quite independent and I am actively seeking other ways to increase my “risk” without going too far. Essentially I need a new job, with some excitement/interest value, rather than heading right back into full on shit. Watch this space, because my RN stuff went back on hold again (18 moths of being messed around), I interviewed for something else, passed and hopefully will begin training in November, assuming my security clearances all go through, medicals all done and nothing except a second MMR jab on the 23rd, so fingers crossed. I digress, but I’m excited at the prospect of a new adventure, even if I don’t want to jinx it.
That last line sums it up, doesn’t it? I am excited for the prospect of a new adventure, because, without that prospect, I feel like I am just treading water, watching the boat of my life burning and the planning and execution of a project (the greater and riskier the better) gives me a sense of meaning and purpose.
For reference, having kids and the whole family thing, might be the biggest and scariest, adventure I’ve ever had. However, I have to realise that my part in that has significantly reduced and that expedition leadership has to be handed over to the next generation, pretty soon.