Saturday, October 31, 2020

Life and Death

Bhim Mountain a.k.a. Razor Peak
Last week I was in the Polo Forest, 150km outside of Ahmedabad. A beautiful and rugged rocky area with vast untamed forest toward the border of Rajasthan. It's most known for some really stunning ancient Jain temples, which I'd spent time around on earlier visits. I was there for a relaxing break from work and nature immersion. Which I got, but also found myself in an unexpected and thrilling adventure.

I almost died climbing Razor Peak (which I later found out is called Bhim Mountain).

It is maybe a couple thousand feet tall, with an accelerating steepness to the rocky peak. The most outstanding feature is that getting to the top is a straight ascent up one of its solid rock edges, which starts as an upright walk but gets to a point where the rock is a tightrope of no more than 6 inches in width, with a severe drop on either side.

In India hiking trails are not really a mainstream concept. When climbing a mountain like Razor Peak or even walking through Polo Forest, the trails are more like suggesstions. They often break in the middle or fade completely. Sometimes trails are just a river or a mountain you should follow or stay on one side of or keep within sight of. Despite having done a lot of outdoors since I was a kid, I have felt in danger while hiking only handful of times in my life, and most of those have been in India because of lack of trails. One notable case was with Paras in Ladakh where we lost a trail couple days into the Markha Valley.

The point I turned back on day one
For Razor Peak I was sure I was going to climb it and asked some locals how to get to it (there was no obvious way to get to the base from the main Polo Forest visitor spaces, indicating that it's seldom climbed by visitors). Few locals looked at me funny and asked if I had anyone else with me. That was a red flag. One of them said to be careful finding the way otherwise you could end up in Rajasthan. Finally a young friendly buffalo herder lead me to the "trailhead" which was behind one of the temples with a very faint meandering line of rocks to follow. He kept saying it's a straight line. There was definitely no straight line at first but trusting something of a trail I eventually got to a rock path leading straight up the mountain along an edge. I followed it to about 80% to the top when I hit a part with a really narrow walk up a steep rock edge where you could easily plummet and die. 

I saw no real way to go further so I turned back, figuring that was the "top" since there was actually no further anyone could really go. Both soles of my hiking shoes also came apart, so I was working with my ripped Crocs so that was another issue. Later I was at another part of the forest with a view of Razor Peak. Another local came by and I shared I'd gone up but couldn't find the way to the top. He said there is a temple at the top and there is a way if you take a detour around the razor's edge. He made it seem that the detour was pretty obvious and easy to find, so I figured I just didn't look hard enough. So I decided to try again the next day.

Next day I started up again with lot of confidene and sure that I'd find the detour around the severe edge and get to pay my respects at the temple at the top and enjoy the view in a couple hours round trip.

I hit the point I got to the day before pretty quickly. Not really seeing a detour, I just started walking around the side of the edge. It quickly became nearly sheer and I was scaling the side of the rock's edge with hand and foot clinging to rock. There was a huge drop and it was clear a false step would at least badly maim if not kill me. Also the wind was blowing so I clung tightly to the side of the rock face as I gingerly pressed ahead, thinking this is the "detour" the local told me about.

But I kept making riskier and riskier moves to get ahead, and a couple times I felt stuck, unable to easily move forward or back. At one point I texted Jay to let him know I'm stuck on this mountain and I was going to try to turn around and would text him once I was in safety. Implication being if he doesn't hear from me to send the search party to recover the body. So at this point fear had unexpectedly but definitely entered the scene.

After texting Jay I saw some opportunity to press ahead to what seemed like the actual detour the local was referring to, a walkable rather than climbable path up the mountain 100 meters or so further around the side of the mountain. So I figured if I could just get there I could confidently get up and probably back down. But getting to that actual detour was getting more and more dangerous and I cursed myself for getting myself in the positions I was in. It was windy and I was bouldering with hand and footholds rather than walking a trail upright on the soles of my feet.
Finally I reached a point where I could clearly see the correct detour, but it just seemed way too dangerous to get there on the path I was on. No way this was the path the locals were advising. Around that time I also got a really painful bite from a large ant which I took as the ant's way of telling me I was on a part of the mountain that no human was supposed to be. I convinced myself to turn around and look for a way to get on the detour further down the mountain. Meanwhile I had taken 2-3 really risky moves to get to where I was so I was mentally preparing myself to have to make them in the reverse direction. Around that time I got a work-related call and responded to impatient queries. I noted the calmness in my tone and ability to respond completely normally despite having to context switch while in a life or death situation hanging on the side of a mountain.

It was intense and incredibly mentally taxing to get back as I gave my utmost concentration to each step I was taking. I knew the only way I'd be in danger is if I slipped a hand or foothold, so everything had to be super sure. I went slow, which compounded the tax. There were many really thorny bushes and prickly cactus and I was cut up on legs and hands even as I carefully avoided them. But soon enough I got back to the 80% point and right around there found a much longer but walkable route leading to the actual detour. I was exhausted mentally and physically so the easy decision would have been to just admit defeat and head all the way back down. But I felt there would be real glory to complete the journey. Being able to have the sense to turn around before it was too late, but then not just take the L but have the control to retry felt like a full mental and physical conquering of the mountain.

Eventually I found the detour and hiked up to the peak from the adjacent, non-sheer side. There were still some sketchy points and my legs were not responding well from exhaustion, so it was touch and go. But I made it. The "temple" was more a painted stone idol. I planted one of Pancho's Earth flags there. Although I really couldn't fully enjoy the breathtaking view and the triumph of the summit since legs were shaking from the exertion and mind was shaking from the fear of the death-defying moments just 20-30 mins earlier.

I learned a lot about myself from this experience. I learned I can stay calm and make smart decisions even my when life feels on the line. I was definitely feeling fear during those sketchy moves on the side of mountain with the wind blowing, but the mind was clear. The fear wasn't crippling but rather caused heightened alertness, deep concentration, and extreme focus. I also learned I can override my stubborness (which got me in the bad spot in the first place) with logic. After a while I realized that the temple at top means people have gotten there, and the route I was taking was clearly not something a tourist or even a local could take. I was clearly doing something wrong so I acknowledged my mistake before it got more out of hand. I learned that I really have a handle on my limits. Though I was stubborn and got myself in trouble, I had enough awareness to turn around when I knew I couldn't go forward. And I never made an unsure step going forward or back.

Ultimately I felt very triumphant. The expereince gave me confidence in my mind and body and my ability to calmly face my fears. All the years of mental and physical training felt validated and put to good used in this adventure. I also felt very alive, in a new way after a long time. It's ironic that being so close to death can make you feel more alive. I thought of Ed Norton's character in Fight Club coming into his office on Monday, quietly taking in the stark contrast between that dull existence and the technicolor experience he had over the weekend.

During the ordeal I flashed to Alex Honold, who climbs in this way as a matter of routine/default, going alone and with no safety net. And of John Muir who explored an entire wild country where no one had before been. If he took a wrong step there was no one to text to recover the body. And even Jay who recently was in a life or death situation on a rock climb but pulled through with sheer will and fearlessness. Nothing I did compares to them so I feel gratitude for their Roger Bannister-like inspiration to help me get through.

I have been reading Dune, which though doesn't stack up to Red Risng series in terms of drama, story-telling, character development, and excitement, has a similar thread of wisdom. Among many Bene Gesserit axioms, and Muad'Dib sayings, the Litany Against Fear stands out most:
I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain