Letter To My Dad
Dear dad,
The opportunity to take you on your first climb, at age 61, was a dream come true for both of us on so many levels. After all the things you taught me to do; to walk, to talk, to read and write, to be confident, to blow my nose, and to think for myself, teaching you to climb was the most valuable thing I had hoped to repay you with. You taught me what not to do as well, rarely by force, more often by example. I’ve learned so much from you, far more than you ever thought to teach me.
My dad near Big Sur in 2006
Last month I had the opportunity that every child hopes to do on some level or another, which is to teach their parents what they have learned…to trade the role of the student for that of the master, even if for a relative instant. But those brief hours, hiking through the foothills of Boulder and climbing to the top of the 1st Flatiron, were enough to realize a goal I have had had since the day I started climbing. More than just getting you on a rope, perhaps to a summit, I wanted you to experience what has become a driving force in my life; the pursuit of self-awareness through climbing. And that’s what I saw you grasp on that climb. 30 feet off the ground you whined that it was too hard, that you couldn’t surmount the next step. And I told you that you didn’t have a choice. Thats when you got a sweet glimpse of one facet of climbing that has helped make me the person I am; the control of your fears. You surmounted that step, and that moment was just as triumphant to me as any summit I have ever realized.
My dad at the top of the 1st Flatiron
Sometimes I wonder if you’re going a bit loony. Perhaps thats a constant suspicion all children have of their parents. Your rants are often outlandish. But I got over the typical embarrassment children often experience when their parents let loose their goofy side. Beyond that, I’ve come to heed your words and recognize the mosaics you paint with, what might seem at times, brushes of madness.
While we hiked up the trails, you talked about some invention you had read about or glimpsed on the inter-webs; artificial wings that flap and let the wearer fly like a bird. You swore to me that was the future of climbing, and I laughed at your naivety. Perhaps I was even a bit insulted by the fact that your suggestion was an attack on the very nature of climbing, reducing its advancements to the pursuit of pure ends with no regard for the real benefit, which we derive from the means of the trade. But I knew that 2 pitches of climbing would reveal to you what its all about.
My dad and I having a dinner with a view in 2006
I found myself thinking about your wings a lot after our climb. Not about the actual idea of using flapping wings to get to the top of a mountain, but a more metaphorical wing. The wings I speak of are not feathered means of flight to be flapped up and down, but rather ideas. Like your wings, mine are tools to help a person go higher and farther. They cannot be bought or sold. They are the tools we use to improve our lives…the skill sets we learn and practice. For me those wings are my mountain skills, and all the ways I have applied those to my life in and out of the hills. But wings have to be earned. And I finally realized that we earn our wings when we pass on our experiences to others. Father to son, friend to friend, and sometimes even child to parent.
My dad and I were going to blast the Nose in a day, but something came up
You made it to the top of the Flatiron and got a feel for the essence of my lifestyle. You got a bird’s eye view of the place I’ve chosen to call home. You got a little taste of what drives me to live out of my van for half the year. Perhaps even more important than having that experience to bond with your son, you tasted that high that I seek in the mountains. Hopefully you came away from that climb with the realization that no matter how old you may perceive yourself to be, accomplishing new things is always a possibility.
Maybe next year we’ll climb El Capitan, maybe we wont. But now you have the experience to really listen to my stories, and now I have the experience of teaching my father to do the thing I love the most. Now I know the joy you must have felt over and over again when you saw your children benefit from the lessons you taught us. We both have our wings dad, and I can’t wait to go flying with you again.
Posted in Climbing, Colorado | 13 Comments
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One of the greatest moments of my climbing career was taking my dad up Intersection Rock for our annual IRBBQ. Half way up, he had the same fears and hesitations and I had to talk him through it. Once he got past the crux, and we were standing on a ledge, I hugged him told him he was doing great. My dad smiled and told me, “Climbing with you was on my bucket list.” It was a truly special moment. He still talks about it when I call him, half a year later.
Great story Josh, thanks for sharing. My daughter is a climber but I’m afraid of a 6ft ladder:) Please be careful. Climber parents love all climbers and their parents.
To Gil’s Dad, I read a post on Facebook about an accident involving your son. First let me say that I am so very sorry for your loss.
I am a father of a young climber as well, and have some appreciation for the dichotomy of emotions a parent of an extreme athlete feels when their child participates in the sport that they love.
From reading his posts, your son lived his time on Earth to its fullest, which not many can say.
I know that it is little comfort right now – but you raised an amazing young man!!
So sorry,
Joe
Thank you Joe!
I too am a parent of a young climber. She is a skilled climbing guide but that doesn’t comfort me too much as even the best of the best have a time clock. Something we don’t like to think about but when they are into extreme sports….it does cross our minds a time or two….million. I appreciate her love and dedication of the sport….me, I’m afraid of a 6ft ladder:) Today she is at a memorial of Michael Ybarra in Yosmite. He too was an extreme climber an writer of the sport. Climbing fall was his final. So so sad….makes for a very heavy heart. And now Gil and Ben. It takes the best of the best. It felt good to talk to all of you today. Blessings to all!!
Joe, your response is lovely.
Reading comments about my son Gil Weiss is an assurance for me that Gil was a good person, and did not have people that dissliked him, Gil had everything a father wants in a son, except a pair of wings, I was always hovering aroud him on all his climbs, but on this one last climb, on the Palcaraju mountain, he left for the climb with Ben Horne in a secret, sneaking out thru a side door, and I was not around on his climb hovering with my wings to catch his fall, I still love him, my anger is not allowed in, and that is how it will stay forever. Gil did not quite understand wheen I told him that I have wings, and my mention of them seemed to him that I am a bit looney, but I did not care, because I was always was flying behind him on his climbs, and was around him while he was climbing, and I could prevent any disaster, at this moment Gil also has wings, thru the Angels Association of the havens, and can climb anywhere without any chance of a foul play, I want him to stay forever on the Palcaraju mountain where he can stay and move to his next adventure, His conquest is etched in everybody’ hearts, and deeper into mine leaving a big painful scar, I will not celebrate or grieve his new Angel status, he is still inside and around me just the same, and I can feell constantly his face covered with short stubbles each I time I kiss him, and the strong body that I feel in my arms when I kiss and hug him, these feelings I will miss forever. The space left for writing here is getting shorter, and my feelings are infinite, A Ford Mustang car has a mustang statue as a shield on it’s hood, and Gil is my shield on my forehead, And I will keep polishing it forever, I never quite understood fully his passion for climbing, not beacuse of the lack of my ability to understand, but maybe the resistance of my subconsience as a father to to go there, I always had thoughts about the dreadful day in the future when the news about him will reach me willbe be bad news, and when he had an accident late last year and fractured his ankle and was out of commision for almost 2 month, I hoped he would never heal enough to be able to continue with his passion for climbing, but my wish did not come through. When I was notified by a phone call from Ted Alexander in Huaraz on July 25 that that Gil was missing for 5 days, I did not understand that left to the climb on July 11, hence he is missing over 12 days, they lied to me, well, the Rescue and Search mission have started that day, actualy it was only a Search mission, but I did not understand it fully only till the day after, when I realized how long realy Gil and Ben Horne are missing, which was already over 10 days, I do want Gil placed forever on the Palcaraju mountain, so he can continue to plan his next trip, and also to be a scarecrow for all the climbers in the future on that mountain. I wish my thumb woul be bigger, I could go to all the mountain peaks around the world and flattan them a bit and make sure the are not ateep enough to fall, and you can loose your footing or grip, andyou can only roll down gently in a misshap, well I should have been able to it to the palcaraju on July 10, 2012. Gary Weiss. (dad)
Dear Gary,
I am the mother of a climber. Annie had me enter her FB page today to look up the exact place Michael Ybarra’s memorial. She was in Yosemite on her way. She spent time with Michael in Zion and he as a good friend of hers. This was the first death of a climber friend she has lost. She is devastated but not enough for me. This is the time a parent wishes that their child open their eyes to the dangers and stops the climb.. That’s not going to happen. Now Gil has lost his life and I’m so so sorry for your loss. I read your letter of course and I too think of the dreadful day when I receive the news of a disaster. It’s sad to say but it’s almost a preparation of fate. Yes, they die doing what they love but I’ll bet they would have loved to climb a lot longer. You never know when your time is up and it’s always a shock, something we never want to hear. Gil was a young highly skilled climber, photographer, writer and was also adventurous, and passionate about all he’s done. He accomplished a lot in his short life and all his ambition I’m sure he learned from you. Seems one of his biggest dreams and accomplishments was to climb with you and it’s awesome that you both shared that time together. He had all he wanted except more time to enjoy his craft. Now he can watch over all the others and become their wings. Gary, I join in your sadness, I didn’t know Gil, I just know I share the love of a child that loves adventure and climbing. So many people loved and respected Gil, may you find comfort and healing. My blessings for you and your family and all Gil’s friends at this sad time.
gary, i love the image of your thumb squishing all the mountains just a bit lower, just a bit less steep…
gil was a special person and he talked about you often, totally adored and respected you. i am so sorry for your loss…i am so sorry he’s gone. you and galit are in my thoughts. -kari
I have been drawn into this story by the obvious exceptional nature of your son, and now, yours as well. My son, Asher, was killed in a fall in Colca Canyon, Peru, 4 yr. ago. He wasn’t an expert at all, like Gil. Just wanted to be in one of the most beautiful places in the world. His body was also retrieved by the Peruvian High Mountain Rescue Team, who searched faithfully for him for 6 weeks when he disappeared. may their memories be a blessing.
Hi Judith,
I wanted to say I’m sorry to hear about your son Asher. I have a daughter that is a skilled climber, she’s had some falls but none fatal thank God. We never know when our time is up and it may not even be on a rock. Asher is now in one of the most beautiful places he’d ever want to see. It’s just so sad when they are so young. I hope you’ve found some healing, my heart breaks for you.
To Gils dad
Your son is still alive in heaven and everything you have said Im sure he was listening to you. I hope you find comfort in the memories of him climbing with you. God bless you.
I am so touched to read Gil’s letter to his Dad…and then see his Dad’s response <3 This is a true testimony that life is short and we all need to tell those we love, how we feel…and lastly, that we all have wings and where/how we choose to use them & fly is up to us! But, we must use them…..
Hello Gary,
Just finished reading Gil’s letter to you and your response after the accident. Really too bad I met him too short and too long ago. Even than, he was much stronger than a child this age. And, full of life and active. He could have been a good student of mine in the Ninjutsu, and he lived not to far in Colorado and me in AZ http://www.1stfarsight.com/ninjutsu
Just wanted to let you know, Gary, that I am with you and Gil will keep climbing up to some unheard destinations.
Gabi
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