The Hostel will reopen

[TrueNorth]

On January 30th of 2004 the hostel owned and operated by True North Outfitters was completely destroyed when a fire swept through the entire facility. The fire consumed everything, kitchen equipment, gear, kayaks, etc. The negative financial impact for this five year old company was devastating. Our ability to provide services to the public was completely stifled, resulting in the total elimination of all income. We did re-invest in the required gear to provide guide services for outings already booked for 2004. Even this became threatened on Oct 25th 2004 when I suffered a heart attack while setting the anchors on the second pitch of “Pinch en Tight”. John Haight was the second guide working with us that day. With his help, Don Fig, the Search and Rescue team, the young men on the trip, and a tremendous amount of undeserving karma, we made it to the helicopter and I was air lifted to the UK hospital in Lexington.

A short time before this, I had attended the very emotional, beautiful and touching Torrent Falls memorial service for John. With three kids nearing college, a beautiful wife and an 18 month old little girl, no one had to explain that I arrived at one of life’s major crossroads. Climbing and guiding had moved past a sport or hobby, it had become my livelihood and more importantly my family’s livelihood. I was now forty-five years of age and had stepped out of the corporate world five years earlier. I had left a pretty lucrative income to chase what many construed as an irresponsible, if not foolish dream, of tromping around in the Gorge.

Now I felt obligated to wear a heart patient medical ID and pack Nitroglycerin in the top of the backpack. Facing the reality that 1 out of 15 individuals, with similar symptoms would suffer a fatal coronary failure over the next 5 years, I turned down the Doctor’s recommendation to install an internal defibrillator. That was a personal decision made by my wife and me. I was still haunted however, by the ethical question of rather or not my physical condition eliminated me from being part of the climbing/mountaineering community. And did I have the right to team or be someone’s partner when lives are at stake?

I had the privilege to climb with Malcolm Daly (President of Trango Holdings) previous to my incident. Malcolm had lost a leg in an alpine accident years ago and had also suffered a heart attack a short time before we climbed. I wanted his input on how one measured their reliability and responsibilities to climbing partners and team members. Climbing and mountaineering is an odd sport where we try to minimize unknown, uncontrollable, and unpredictable risk through self preparation and analytical thinking. In reality, its damn near impossible to totally prepare for, or to analyze, an unknown problem. Those of us who have participated in these activities, for any length of time, are aware of this little paradox. Perhaps we ignore its reality as a defensive mechanism that allows us to “continue on”. Malcolm’s advice was simple, “stop” or “move forward”. In regards to the safety of those on the team, give them the facts and let them decide.

A year earlier two of the True North guides, Jim Wilson and Valio Viti, had reached the summit of Pico de Orizaba. At 18,700 feet Orizaba ranks as the third highest mountain in North America. John Haight and I had been invited to be part of this team; however the fire and John’s impromptu shoulder operation had prevented us from joining the team. Disappointed, John and I planned to be on the mountain in February the following year. Now my recent heart attack threatened these plans. After talking to Malcolm I decided to “move forward” and go to Mexico. I had dealt with the reality of dying that evening on “Pinch en Tight” and as strange as it may seem, I found the act of facing death astonishingly non-emotional. I found living life with a constant nagging fear a lot more disconcerting.

Two more True North guides, Stephanie Ross and Josh Roe, decided to join the team. Our goal was to travel to Mexico and summit Orizaba and two neighboring peaks in ten days. Two of these peaks included glacier work and could require two or three man rope teams. Malcolm’s advice regarding “letting them decide” sounded simple until we had to address the mechanics of this reality. It made for several interesting personal and intimate discussions. These conversations are too emotionally raw to be shared in a public forum. However I can say that I am blessed to be surrounded with close personal friends.

The entire trip went very well. We put at least one team member on each summit. On Orizaba John and Stephanie left base camp at 12:00 midnight and made a push for the summit. Josh had suffered from AMS since arriving at base camp. To give Josh a little more time to acclimate, Josh and I decided to leave base camp later at 5:30 AM. We monitored John and Stephanie’s progress, via radio, as they struggled to find the route in the dark. Being off route threatened their safety and progress through out the night. Somewhere above 16,000 feet, John became separated from Stephanie and found he had bottlenecked into a shear cliff face. Not wanting to back track he decided a technical climb was in order. I could sense what John was about to attempt, I sat in quiet amazement until he reached the cliff line above. When his radio crackled back to life, all I could do was shake my head in admiration and disbelief. His only comment to Stephanie was, “perhaps that wasn’t the best way to come”. Which has an interpretation of: John had just competed one kick ass highly technical climb, with a backpack, above 16,000 feet, in the dark. John was now above Stephanie. Stephanie eventually found a weakness where ice had formed in a runoff. Throwing on her crampons she ice climbed out of the box canyon to the cliff line above.

By day break both had reached the foot of the glacier. The night’s adventures had taken their toll. John had reached this point first and decided to push on for the summit. Although Stephanie had made a gallant effort, by the time she reached the glacier AMS and dehydration were setting in. Considering her options, she elected to bivy at 17,000 plus feet under an emergency blanket. By this time, Josh and I had left base camp and were moving up the mountain. At some point Stephanie realized she needed to keep moving and began her decent. John found his rhythm on the glacier and eventually we got the radio call that he was on the summit. He began his decent and eventually caught up with Stephanie. By now, both had been on the mountain for an extreme amount of time. John knew Josh and I were making headway up the mountain and he still had a long ways to go to base camp with limited water and energy. Stephanie convinced him to keep moving towards base camp. John passed us a short time later near one of the area used for a high camp. About an hour later we met up with Stephanie, clipped her pack, and began to assist with her decent. By this time Stephanie was completely dehydrated and beginning to hallucinate. Although she was still walking under her own power and communicating properly, my boot tracks began to make faces at her and boulders began to appear as naked baby dolls. Steph is one hell of a fighter. Somehow she held it together. A few days later, Stephanie would go on and be the only one on the team to summit the third mountain. (Josh and John hit a false summit)

The ten days came and went fast. Three mountains, and just for good measure, we threw in some white water before we left Mexico. We had put at least one team member on each peak and although I did not summit Orizaba, I had found answers and friendships buried within the cracks and crevices of those mountains.

When we returned, we all suffered some sort of depression. I know my depression came in an odd way. For three months, I had lived with the fact that I might die, either from a heart attack or on the mountain. I had used it as an escape from day to day responsibilities. One has a tendency not to worry too much about the telephone bill if death may be near. Upon returning from Mexico, reality began to set in. The bills did need to be paid and I probably wasn’t going to get off the hook for the kids college tuition. Believe me, I'm thankful now for this, but then it was a very odd realization.

I have taken a rather long approach to announcing some of the decisions that have been made since our trip to Mexico. We are happy to announce that True North will re-open the hostel. The old facility has been completely gutted and remodeled. The construction will be completed this week. We have added approximately 500 square feet of living space. We need a month to furnish the facility and train the staff. I see no reason why we can not be open for business by the middle of May.

The hostel’s new footprint will accommodate 25 single beds, a full commercial kitchen, yoga classes on Saturday morning (open to the public, 6:30 to 7:30, mats available), an enlarged dining area, internet, washer and dryer and all the wonderful atmosphere you had come to expect in years past. Our operations will remain the same as you remember, including our menu items and particularly our breakfast.

With guides such as Stephanie Ross, Josh Roe, John Haight, Jim Wilson, Valio Viti, and myself, True North will continue providing premier guide services in the Red and marketing plans are under way to expand these services to national and international adventures. The third annual adventure race, the Fig III, will be run on the first weekend of November. John is interested in adding mountain biking and the kayaks will reappear on the porch.

It’s been a long year, but I consider myself one of the luckiest individuals alive. I am surrounded by good friends, good kids and a wife who loves me. I’m doing what I love to do, even if it does involve tromping around in the Gorge.

God bless you all

Jeff Kennedy
True North Outfitters

[t bone]

Thats great news Jeff, i cant wait till i can ride my motorcycle down and stay at the hostel. You are great host and cook!!

[Zspider]

Jesus Christ, dude. Write a book.

Haha! Just kidding. Glad to hear the hostel is reopening.

ZSpider

[TrueNorth]

Man, your looking at the effects of a year of pent up frustration.

[squeezindlemmon]

That almost made me cry!!!

Oh, and congrats with the re-opening!

[weber]

What a year, Jeff -- a real emotional roller coaster for you and your family.

Malcolm Daly's advice is good; I'm glad you chose the "move forward" alternative. Helen Keller put it nicely: "Life is either a daring adventure or nothing. Security does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than exposure."

As I'm almost 20 years your senior, I'm seeing friends in my age range dropping like flies. It puts things in perspective and makes me stiffle my whinning that most 5.11's give me fits.

Liz and I wish you all the best in the re-opening of your hostel. Your "tromping around the Gorge" sounds a lot like John Muir's "sauntering around the Valley." Let's hook up sometime soon and do some of that tromping together.

Rick Weber

[J-Rock]

Great story! 8)

[Lateralus]

Wow that must have took some guts to write Jeff. I wish I could give you some business in a few weeks when I am in the Red, but there is always next time. I applaud your courage to "go forward" and to offer something so good for the climbing community!

[captain static]

Nothing like an epic trip into the mountains to refresh your perspective on life. I had a climbing friend who continued to climb after having triple bypass surgery. He never belayed after that but always thoroughly enjoyed being outdoors and climbing. My wife is a cancer survivor so I know how hard a serious illness can be on a family. Your story reminds me of an inspirational picture we have on the wall at home. It says, "Whenever God closes a door, he always opens a window."

[ynot]

Think I'll be staying on those cold nights. I'm getting to old for sleeping in the cold