One Journey Through
A World of Stories
"We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us."
- Joseph Campbell
Spring Break, On a Dollar and a Dream
It all started with an unseasonably beautiful March day in Hamilton NY. Because Colgate students and faculty generally experience such long and frigid winters, we are quick to jump at the first sign of good weather, ushering in the beautiful upstate spring by holding classes outside, playing frisbee on "the quad" and all kinds of other "classic college"-looking activities.
To start off my break I took a day to walk with friends, ride my board, and otherwise revel in the fresh air and warm sun, while letting the stress of the past week become a distant memory.
Next I met up with Morgan and we headed North the Adirondacks. Morgan is a friend from high school who now goes to Syracuse U. Morgan and I have planned a road trip around the country for the summer so we planned this spring break trip as a test drive of sorts.
Once in the Dacks, Morgan and I met up with Glenna and Hailey (friends from Colgate), who were staying in a family cabin for the week.
Our days were planned over hot tea and this was followed by bountiful breakfast spreads to keep us through the morning.
One day we spent hiking along the Boreas river through a mix of rain, snow, sleet and hail.
The next day we climbed Crane Mountain and did a little bit of rock climbing and rappelling.
We filled our evenings with writing, reading, painting and cooking and we spent our nights: huddled around fires, playing games and talking deep into the night, about the world, our growing awareness of its problems, how we can help, and always coming back to the simple joy of warmth and good people.
The second half of my break began by heading south, dropping Morgan off at SYRU, and then continuing on down to the Catskills. As I drove I was struck again and again by the different way of life that many people in rural NY lead.
The silence and stillness, the great expanses of farm country and forest; compared to the bustling metropolis of NYC or even suburban communities, central NY seems almost eerily quiet. However, seen in a different light, this rural landscape resembled the epitome of peace and freedom.
Upon arriving in the Shawangunk Mountains, I met up with my friend Danny and a fellow he had brought. Danny's friend went by the name Snaps and quickly lived up to the unusual title.
Over the next 4 days, Danny, Snaps and I climbed a few thousand feet through a vertical world of stone.
The Gunks are renowned for blocky-featured rock, strewn with horizontal cracks and gigantic roofs. Needless to say, I thoroughly enjoyed the daily journey, stepping, gripping, pulling, and swinging my way through the natural architecture.
After a long day of climbing our crew would find a spot to park the cars for the night, cook a simple meal over a small stove, and swap laughs and smiles into the fresh, dark air.
During the trip I met a few characters that furthered my opinion of the climbing community as an eccentric group of capable and friendly individuals, who as a whole have a deep appreciation for nature and willingness to share their knowledge and stories with those who take an interest.
One night we met a fellow named Bruno Paciulli. We quickly learned that Bruno was creative director of an online magazine, RadicalHer.com , that features competitive women's stories. In only a few minutes of talking to Bruno I had learned about his education in art and his continued passion for creative expression. Bruno was one more supportive figure, inspiring me to really believe that there is a way to craft a career that is meaningful, rigorous, and allows me the lifestyle that I want to live.
One afternoon while attempting a challenging climb, a sage older gent sauntered up and started giving me advice. I soon learned his name was Michael Emelianoff and that he was a lifetime climber who has put up routes all over the east coast.
Like many of the knarled aging climbers I have had the pleasure of meeting, I found Michael to be an artist, philosopher, all-around outdoorsman, and generally an interesting and instightful fellow.
Talking to Michael really helped to solidify my understanding of why I do "this".
Why I spend spring bread in a tent.
Why i drive for hours just to find a barren rock face, or silent forest.
Why i spend hours hanging from a rope or wrapped in a struggle for my life against the pervasive force of gravity and the cold uncaring rock.
For the simplicity, for the challenge, to do something under my own power, and as a contrast to the technologically enhanced, over-stimulating "modern western world".
