Post - Lesson Collective

The Twenty-Two Project

“The project was about finding new things. But you can find yourself in it. I’m another person now than six years ago.”

— Henrik Westling

On a sunny Saturday morning at 10:30 AM, seven of my friends and I stood on the summit of Spiller Peak (13,123’): the 22nd and final peak of my Twenty-Two Project.. Over the course of 51 days, I slowly and methodically put the work in to stand and ski off all of the prominent summits of my backyard mountain range. During my journey, I experienced the seasons change from cold and harsh into warm and hopeful. The depths of winter slowly receded into life giving moisture, prompting the high mountain forest to emerge from its slumber to bloom forth with energy.

Diana kicking steps up the final snowfield of the Twenty-Two project on Spiller Peak (13,123’ - #22).

As I watched my friends prepare for the descent of the couloir and back into the basin below, my mind started to reflect on this experience that was inspired by a kindred spirit from Sweden. Henrik Westling and I do not know one another other; speak the same language; or share cultural customs. We do, however, know the sound of a boot clicking into a binding. The urge to wake up before the rest of the world to get a head start on a long day in the mountains. The sting of spin drift carried by a biting wind colliding with an exposed cheek. The trepidation of whether or not our ski edges will find purchase on steep, exposed, and icy slopes. We both know what it is like to stand on top of a summit and watch the first rays of the day pierce the surrounding purple sky. The resignation of simply putting one foot in front of the other to create forward progress. The feeling of accomplishment from reaching a goal that at one time seemed so far-off and unattainable. Despite being unknowns to each other, we share a connection to our natural world and the brief brush strokes we paint upon it.

Henrik mentions that his One Seven Eight project changed him; that he became another person during the six years it took him to accomplish his goal. It would be an embellishment if I stated that my personal project spurred in me some profound change. Our endeavors are very different with mine far less committing on all fronts. This is not to say that the Twenty-Two Project is any less meaningful to me. The lessons I learned through the simple act of setting a goal and then working to reach it are valuable and leave a lasting impact:

1. Make It Personal

In a world of hyper competition where firsts, one up-man ship, and going bigger and better are lauded, the simple act of doing the seemingly routine is made meaningless or perceived as that way. Nothing is further from the truth. Years ago, my ego learned that the race for being at the top is one that will never be won no matter how talented one is or how many resources are at one’s disposal. A more powerful mindset is to set goals without comparison to others. Make them personal and meaningful to oneself. In doing so, real growth and authenticity will be experienced. As a sidenote to goal setting, the motivation to complete a goal is a key element to personal growth that may or may not take place during the journey. If one is motivated by external factors, such as the number of likes, followers, or public notoriety, the experience of going after a goal may be fleeting and meaningless.

Ashley dropping in for the final descent.

2. Having Some Resolve is the Key

Extraordinary things are accomplished by completing many little things. Henrik wanted to stand on top of 178 peaks. I wanted to summit a mere 22 peaks. No matter the difference, neither of us would stand on a single peak without the resignation that we would have to do the work to make our goals a reality. For me that meant biking 106 miles; skiing and hiking 88 miles; and climbing nearly 60,000 vertical feet. When starting the Twenty-Two Project, I committed myself to breaking the whole down to its simplest parts, which were a single pedal stroke and a single step. By doing those over and over, one peak after another was reached.

3. Time is our Most Valuable Resource

In a world of increasing distraction and complexity, it is easy to squander what we all have in life. Social media companies create products to grab our attention and compromise our focus on meaningful work. The news media does the same. Employers often control a large chunk of our time and if allowed, will gladly demand or take more. With all of the attention seekers in our world, it’s no wonder that many of us find ourselves in a stupor just going through the motions of scrolling, swiping, and placating the masters of our time. We are no longer in control. In order to accomplish my project, I had to step out of the world described above. In doing so, I experienced a perspective shift. I found a balance between giving my time to others and utilizing it for my own purposes.

Michael enjoying soft conditions on the final snowfield.

4. Solitude is Good for the Soul

Given my profession and personal affliction for needing to be in wild places, I seem to have ample opportunities for solitude. It wasn’t until my first solo night in my project headquarters, the walled tent, that I realized how fleeting solitude had been in my life. Just as we are continually distracted by the attention economy, we are nearly always surrounded by others—whether it be our co-workers, our kids, spouses, friends, customers, complete strangers, etc. People are everywhere.

Lying in my cot while listening to the wind howl overhead and the wood stove hiss and crackle as it provided the tent with heat, I felt my mind go quiet for the first time in too long. My thoughts stopped racing on day-to-day tasks or from anxiety induced spin. I could hear my breath and feel it flow in and out of my body. I relaxed. I entered the present.

This moment was powerful. It would become one I would seek to duplicate with every return to my headquarters. It would be silently celebrated when others were not available to join me for a mission and I would have to tackle it solo. There were only four such forays, but these experiences are remembered in technicolor, as to climb and ski off mountains solo, requires a heightened focus and full emersion in the present task at hand. The act of living is raw in these moments, an opportunity to look inward and investigate one’s own essence.

My partners for the final summit toasting the completion of the project (Graham, Ashley, Nan and Diana).

As we popped the cork on the champagne that Diana had biked and carried up into the high country, my feelings varied as they usually do when completing a sought-after goal. There was the immediate elation and feelings of accomplishment. This project had been on the list for quite some time. The above lessons spurred in me a feeling of disappointment as well. If I only knew what I had learned through the pointless pursuits of biking to, climbing and skiing the 22 peaks in my backyard in a single season, I could have completed it years before. I would have tempered the need to push for professional and material success and instead, focused a little more on drawing some lines in the snow. This would have taken me deeper sooner and allowed me more encounters with solitude.

They say everything happens for a reason and in its own time. A feeling of gratefulness overcomes all else with this thought. Though I am the one who is most responsible for the Twenty-Two Project taking as long as it did, I am glad that it is finally completed and not left for someday. I now have learned the strategies to move items off of my extensive “save for later” list and onto the “have experienced” list. Wahoo!