Flying High

I've been in some amazing places, and am grateful for the things I've seen and experienced. There are a few situations I never expected to be in and soaring over the Canadian Rockies in a Cessna 180 is one of them.

I found myself with pilot Jim Hrymack in his plane, exploring the mountains from a vantage point which never occurred to me that some (a few) are privileged to experience. I hadn't run into too many pilots before, mostly just the ones to-ing and fro-ing paying customers on commercial flights. I've never met someone who is as passionate about flying as climbers can be about climbing and found out there are plenty more than just him. For some reason I didn't see pilots as obsessed individuals whose hearts are floating on the updrafts as surely as mine is residing within the beauty of frozen ice. On a prior afternoon I was watching Jim perform acrobatics in a small airport and I ended up shooting the breeze with a couple pilots in the observation lounge and listening with rapt attention to their favorite flying stories. I've come to appreciate that the passion of flying and climbing isn't that much different. These guys had all come into contact with climbers at various times in their flying careers, whether they were flying them to remote locations or rescuing them. They seemed to have a respect for climbers, not unlike the respect I had for them as pilots.

We left the Springbank airport with a few objectives; to check out how the ice is forming in the Ghost and Wiaprous range and to fly over the Columbia Ice Fields. May I just add that being able to do an aerial reconnaissance of ice climbs is about the COOLEST thing ever! However I had no idea what I was in for, even though Jim did try to warn me about it. "It could get bumpy" he says. Which in retrospect I realize is akin to when a doctor is going to perform some really lousy procedure on you with no freezing and calmly says "This might feel uncomfortable". In both cases, understatement is the key.

We were flying towards the mountains and I saw some ice and excitedly I pointed and said "There!". Jim says "Lets get closer". Next thing I know we're heading towards the climb, and really fucking close to it and we bank sharply and then I'm looking down at it, and bumpy means the little plane is moving quite energetically and I start screaming while saying something like "Wholly FUUUUCK!!" I can't remember if the scream was preceded by words or if the words were actually part of the scream.

My body temperature shot up and I was bathed in sweat and I realized how stressed I was. Stressed in a different way then when I've been scared on a mountain or fearful that I could die (that feeling really sucks btw). Climbing fear has more low grade tension and anxiety but you can still make decisions because things are happening slower. This fear had equal wieghting of adrenaline and terror. I think it ignited the flight or fight response in a primal way I couldn't really control. I imagine though that after some repeated exposure I would get better at dealing with it, if I didn't have a heart attack first.

Jim was always able to navigate away from the turbulence but a few times the small plane took a sudden drop that would elicit more involuntary screams on my part. Think roller coaster way high in the air and close to big mountains.

I was happy to leave the front range and head west to Jim's objective, the Columbia Ice Fields.

We were following the highway below to get our bearing and Jim was referring to his flying map while I had my mountaineering topo map. I was amazed how this wasn't that much different than using a map when on the highway just wwwaaay farther up.

I was in awe when I realized that we were flying right by Mt Patterson, the mountain I had climbed in the summer with Barry Blanchard and Jason Billings. To see it from this vantage point was stunning. I was able to point out the ridge where we bivvied for the night. The mountain looked so massive, I had a hard time believing I was able to climb it, and there seemed to be a dichotomy between my memories and the scope of what we did when looking at the mountain.

The mountains are incredible from the air and I had a chance to look at some of the giants of that area, Columbia, the North and South Twins. I saw ice fields I never knew existed back there. I also saw where Jim and his buddy Steve have landed their planes outside of the park boundary to climb some of the peaks. When he told me about his adventures with Steve it seemed like a cool and somewhat crazy concept. When I was actually there I changed my assessment to focus more on crazy. On that flight, we were only checking it out in preparation for when Jim and his buddy would go back there later in the winter, when the crevasses that could eat planes would be filled with snow. Both of these guys are experienced pilots and have earned the abilities to try this type of endeavour. I put them in the "hotshot" category of piloting. I've met guys like Jim before but in the climbing arena. Individuals who are in love with an activity and have been doing it most of their lives and are professionals. These are the guys you want to be with because, a) they've kept themselves alive for a long time. b) they've been in enough challenging situations to know their limits. c) they have deep respect for their environments. d) they stay calm.

Which is good because a situation came up when I needed Jim to stay calm and cool. Early in the flight I had a sobering realization, what happens when I have to pee? For some reason I hadn't thought of this fact - at all. Which is really stupid because I have a bladder the size of a walnut at the best of times let alone when I was being buffeted by turbulence with a harness seat belt pressing against my bladder and kidneys!

I knew we were going to stop at the Golden Airport to refuel and eat lunch. I waited as long as I could within my limits and then had to ask how far we were from the airport because I was going to have to pee soon. Jim didn't question my statement for a second when I told him my holding power was about 30minutes.

We wrapped up our flying and we started to head to Golden. I am pretty good about assessing the length of time I can hold my pee, born of years of experience of having to do so. But in this situation I probably cut it closer than I should have since I really didn't want to have to pee and I really didn't want to cut this amazing flight short. But eventually I had to acquiesce to the request of my bladder.

By the time we are over Golden I am in that slightly rocking stage of intensity, trying hard to not think of my bladder while at the same time beseeching it to hold out just abit longer. Golden is shrouded in low cloud cover. I can tell by Jim's tone of voice that something is amiss. Finally I have to ask, "What does this cloud cover mean?". He looks over at me and calmly but firmly says "We can't land, we'll have to continue to Calgary and that's another half hour"

I would have liked to seen the look on my face because I wonder what worry, shock and desperation look like. I look over at him and less calmly but just as firmly state "I will not make it that far Jim, I'm going to have to pee in the plane"

I've pee'd in a fair amount of adverse situations while climbing and in some cases with my partner standing fairly close beside me. But that is nothing, not even close to being in a very small plane, strapped into my seat, shoulder to shoulder with a guy I don't know very well. This takes going to the bathroom to a whole other level. For some of you who have read my previous blogs you may recall my failed attempts to use a devise called "the Whiz". It's designed to help women pee in weird situations as well as standing up. My attempts with this device resulted in me peeing all over myself - more than once! But having said that I do have a fair amount of experience peeing into ziplock baggies, nalgene bottles etc but normally while in a tent. Can't say I've ever tried to pee into a barf bag while strapped in a plane with my pilot right beside me. That my readers, was a whole new experience. But I had no choice; it was either at least attempt it or pee my pants.

Jim was a prince throughout the whole situation. He knew it had to be done and he knew I was in a very exposed and embarrassing situation. I asked him to please, PLEASE just keep looking forward until I said it was ok.

Mustering all the concentration I could, I managed to pee in this small little barf bag, don't ask me how I did it. I think I had a couple urinary angels helping me out. The barf bag was dangerously full, I'm tying it off with a twist tie heaving a huge sigh of relief and dare I say sense of accomplishment when to my horror, the bag springs a leak! Then another, and I realize the bag is disintegrating before my eyes. I yell to Jim the situation and again as calm as calm can be he says "We'll have to do a drop" which is fine with me! I worked hard to not spill anything in his plane and now all my hard work is quickly going to drain out of the bag and onto his floor! Going at 175miles an hour he opens the window and I quickly throw the vile bag out the window. We were over forest at the time so at best some poor bear or cougar is going to get thumped on the head but even that's a slim possibility.

I look over at Jim and start to laugh at the unreality of the whole situation. I try profusely to apologize for peeing in his plane, maybe it was less apologizing and more babbling. Perhaps I had reached my threshold for pretending to be a calm rational person while way out of my element. I laughed in relief, embarrassment and because when you think about it, it was a damn funny situation.

Jim seemed unfazed by the whole situation although I can't help but wonder if at some point, while he's sitting in the airport recounting flying stories with his buddies, he'll start with "Oh man, I had this woman in my plane one time....."

I'll wrap up this blog with a quote as I think it could apply to pilots and climbers alike and maybe can explain to others some of our motivations...

"For once you have tasted flight you will walk the earth with your eyes turned skywards, for there you have been and there you will long to return." - Leonardo Da Vinci