Climb to Service

Join one first responder as he serves those who chose a life of service with Veterans Expeditions.
It is Friday evening. I am sitting on the front porch of The Gendarme, one of the oldest climbing gear shops in North America at Seneca Rocks in West Virginia. This place has felt like home to me for a long time.  Climbing, talking about climbing, climbing rants, climbing games, climbing parties, climbing challenges, and climbing family. If there is a hub for mid-Atlantic trad climbers, it is here. You can’t see Seneca behind Yokum’s store, which sits right next to Harper’s store. These two country businesses are right next to each other and have been there for more than 100 years. People like to think of the two families as the local Hatfields and McCoys, even though they get along just fine. But if you walk around the corner, there it is.  Almost 1,000 feet from the river to the summit. The tallest technical summit east of Devils Tower in Wyoming.  There are a lot that are taller, but you can hike to the top of those, so as far as I’m concerned, they don’t count. I am sitting on the front porch with my feet kicked up waiting for participants to arrive. Some are driving in from a few hours away and some have flown from or driven from the west coast to climb with us. At 1900 hrs, Veterans Expeditions’ September 11th event series begins. With as many participants as I can herd together at once, I lean into a casual safety brief. This is who I am. This is where you are. This is why you are. This is what you will do. This is what you will do if things go sideways. This is when we step off. Everyone sleep well.

The first time I heard Veterans Expeditions (VetEx) (Opens in a new window)was from Fitz Cahall on a podcast called Dirtbag Diaries(Opens in a new window) in an episode titled Homefront. They talked about the difficulty some members of the military community experience reintegrating into “normal” life. They had found comfort in the outdoors and in the mountains, with the same sort of team environment they had leaned on while serving. I had not served in the military. Could I help? I wanted to help. It is the same system I lean on as a firefighter in our nation’s capital. I had been a climbing guide for a decade at the time. I cold called VetEx with an email asking to help and offering to sponsor an event at my home crag, Seneca. No response. Months later I tried again. Nothing. After talking with some of the leadership and having a buddy in the organization vouch for me and for Seneca, they gave me a shot. That was almost a decade ago. Since then, the Seneca event has grown to require a participant cap and we started a New York ice climbing trip. I have climbed with VetEx in North Carolina, Virginia, West Virginia, New York, New Hampshire, Colorado, Michigan, and Alaska.

Saturday morning, I get up early. Mostly because I’m paying for all my mistakes from my 20s now in my 40s and the vitamin “I” has worn off. OK, neck, shoulders, lower back, and knees are all sore. Good, nothing is out of the ordinary. Packing for a day out is like breathing, so it doesn’t take long to get downstairs and start making coffee for everyone.  At 0800 hrs., almost everyone is here. There are always one or two in a group that size that have some trouble with posting on time. Everyone is partnered up with VetEx leadership based on known or perceived ability. Another quick safety spiel and we are off. A quick stop in the meadow for the required group shot and we start the casual approach.

The rain looked like it would hold off. It didn’t. For once, the forecast here was accurate.  Everyone looked for a sheltered area where we could make the best of our time out. We hung out in the cave, a spot with some hard sport routes. There we discussed gear, placements, anchor building, belay techniques, haul systems, and anything else we could think of. Almost right at noon the rain stopped, the clouds started to burn off. Dry as a bone we began the quad workout up the Stairmaster, a stone staircase built as an access trail by climbers for climbers.

Seneca is a unique place. It is steep and either beautiful bullet-hard Tuscarora Sandstone or fractured questionable Quartzite. A vertical fin that stands straight up out of the valley floor. A fin that is just as vertical on both sides. In fact, walking north/south along the summit ridge can be nerve-racking. It is three or four feet wide in some places with a vertical drop of several hundred feet to the east and the west. There is a north and a south summit. The north side you can hike to, so it is not considered a technical summit. The two features make up what looks like the rear sight on a rifle. In the center of the saddle between the two fins once stood a small pinnacle that stood just over 30 feet called the Gendarme, our shop’s namesake. From the valley, the combination of features looked like your rifle was lined up and ready. In the 1940’s the US Army trained soldiers here. Preparing them for what they might face in the Alps. Sometimes you still find some of their old ring pins hiding in the rock.

My party motored up routes that I have been guiding for close to two decades. My guys moved well and as a team, as if we had been climbing together longer than a few hours. Smiles all around. How could you not? It didn’t even look like it had been raining a few hours ago. Up the summit ledges and one last 4th class scramble to the top. We wrote something poetic in the summit register and hung out. I still get a kick out of looking down at the ravens as they fly past. Off the summit and we are heading down the Conn’s West rappels. With two ropes, we are back on terra firma, the trail not the route. A short scramble down and we get to walk down the Stairmaster.  As we walk out the three of us debrief. Did you have a good time? What did you love? What did you hate? What did you learn? What would you like to see again? I always love the feedback. What can I do better next time?

After we get back down, everyone goes their separate ways for a while. Gotta square away gear, or change your clothes, or take a shower, or put on the post-climb flip flops, or get an ice-cold Coke. Whatever gets you going. But don’t stray too long. Phil, another local guide and all around great person, is down and already on the grill. Every year, Phil comes through with donated food and feeds all of us and anyone who may have tagged along like families and children. He cooks burgers, brats, dogs, potato salad, baked beans, chips and salsa, cookies, brownies, and whatever else he has surprised us with this time. If anyone ever gets to meet Phil, just another person, give him a high five, or a hug, or a firm open handed slap on the — . Generating the resources to run these events can be the most difficult part. Phil coming forward with food, Seneca Rocks Climbing School providing a venue, equipment, and camping, the KAJ Foundation giving funding, and other individuals and organizations contributing help make our trips possible and inexpensive for participants.

Everyone is now milling around the front porch of the Gendarme, eating and drinking, and here is where it happens. We have been broken up into small groups all day. Now everyone here is one team and one community. Whether we talk about service or what we do now, our families, our struggles, our successes, or our failures; we are all talking. Taking part in that community and team that some are still familiar with and some still miss. Here again we rely on the person in front and behind us, to our left and right. Everyone has a job, knows their job, and does their job. Here friendships are made. Personal connections are formed. Everyone leaves feeling as if they are a part of something.

Service. To be of service. Service is why Veterans Expeditions does this. To be of service for those who chose a life of service. A life of service to others is a life to be proud of.