Invisible Warriors

                        

That radiant smile on my shoulder belongs to Cindy Gray, my partner, my wife, and the best friend I've ever had. 

She's also disabled.

People who see Cindy smiling and laughing in pictures, out at the crag or on the trail, often say, "Wow! She looks great for someone with MS."

What they too often mean is, "How can she have a disability?" 

They don't see the incision scars from reconstructive surgeries to her lumbar vertebrae, the silver dollar sized lesion on her brain stem or the three dime-sized ones scattered over her brain.

Cindy takes a break atop the Gypsy Dome, Elevenmile Canyon, CO

They don't have any concept of the determination it took for her to regain use of one side of her body following a stroke in 2001, and have no clue about the titanium stents inside her skull from a massive aneurysm that nearly claimed her life in 2016.

Few of us can even imagine the incredible effort it takes for her to walk on a repaired patella and meniscus while coping with a sense of balance that can feel like she's on the deck of a ship in a storm.

Few comprehend the hours and days of pain; when Cindy hurts so bad that this former athlete and firefighter weeps in agony and frustration.

They don't see that every hike or climb requires two or three days of recovery, or know about the days that we set out for an adventure, but an unpredictable flare-up of Multiple Sclerosis ends everything before we set foot on the trail.

Not every disease or disability waves a red flag; not every sick or disabled person behaves in a way that announces their condition.

Ironically, many who campaign  for diversity, inclusion and awareness treat those battling MS and other chronic but invisible diseases with a lack of sensitivity and awareness that manifests as impatience and borders on downright rudeness.

Too often, I've turned around on a steep, narrow crag trail that Cindy helped to build, to find a party of climbers who've never done a minute of trail work crowding her heels and mumbling, not quite under their breath, about this person impeding their blind rush to pose for selfies on a route Cindy helped to bring into existence.

Take a minute to understand that, as well as those with obvious disabilities, this world is filled with people who don't LOOK sick but who overcome more challenges getting to the trail or crag than most of us will ever know in a lifetime.

Take another to repair the trails you walk, to replace dislodged steps and stones in the trail, even if you didn't create the damage. 

Make a conscious effort to keep walkways clear of ropes, packs, dogs and hammocks. What you consider a minor inconvenience is a major obstacle to those with mobility issues from neurological diseases or reconstructive surgery.

Remember that "those people" never asked for their lot in life; many were once as healthy as you.

The kindness you show today may someday be the kindness you need from others.

Edit to illustrate the capricious nature of her disability: since this original post on Facebook, Cindy suffered a compressed L3-4 disc when the prosthesis in her back broke loose from her spine and hip while walking across the kitchen floor. 

No warning, out of the blue after three days of casual hiking and climbing a new trad line in the Canyon.

She spent months walking with a cane and living with extreme pain, awaiting surgical scheduling. 

In February of 2020, the old support screws and plates were removed and new hardware installed to fuse the lower 15 inches of her spine.

In March COVID-19 shut down WV and much of the world.

After 14 months of rehab, Cindy began hiking and climbing again in April of 2021, and was once again slaying trout with the best of them.

On Friday, the 13th of August, after a wonderful day in the Canyon and evening of good food and conversation, out of the blue, Cindy woke at midnight to dizziness and nausea. After 7 hours of fighting the inevitable, we drove to Virginia, where she was admitted to the hospital for two days.

A week later, we celebrated our slightly delayed 10th anniversary with a 2.5 mile hike up a steep ridge and back down along the creek below, then prepared and enjoyed dinner in a perfectly preserved CCC cabin.

In September, Cindy began a new treatment for MS, and was excited by an immediate improvement in her energy levels and greatly reduced symptoms of the disease.

On Monday, November 8, eleven months after her first hospitalization, doctors determined that she has Ménière's disease, effectively bringing to an end her ability to participate in climbing, hiking, or trail work.

The end of an era in Smoke Hole climbing and stewardship

Despite it all, Cindy refuses to surrender to despair or simply succumb to any affliction; between her weekend days at the Franklin town library, she's still leaf peeping on the North Fork, picking up trash along Canyon roads, chasing trout in the South Branch and watching for her big feathered friends.

Life goes on.

Remember that there is far more in Heaven and Earth than your rush to the crags or convenient sympathy for the obviously disabled and challenged.

Invisible warriors walk among you, many of them the very reason for the places in which you live and play.

Open yourself to the lessons and inspiration they offer, the history they would share, if not for blind eyes and deaf ears.

Thank you, Miss Pinkpants, for a decade spent cleaning up over half a ton of trash on Canyon area roads, of sponsoring, organizing and participating in over a dozen trail work events, feeding hundreds of hungry volunteers, putting up new lines, helping to rebolt old ones, and sharing your wisdom and experience with a new generation of young climbers.

It's no exaggeration to say that the last decade has been a milestone in the history of women, disabled climbers, and climbing in the USA, as well as a grand adventure of mishaps, lessons, magic and discovery that changed life forever for this Southern boy.

Thank you, my love.

MG

Cindy and Mike Gray: New Routes and FAs 

2009-2019

West Virginia: Franklin Gorge, Smoke Hole, Reed’s Creek and Germany Valley 

1. In Your Footsteps 2/28/08

2. Going on a Bender 8/24/08

3. Little Eagle 10/16/08

4. Fledgling 10/16/08

5. Really Bad Eggs 10/17/08

6. The Last Laugh 12/08

7. Feels Like the First Time 2/12/09

8. Like a Wirgin, Captain 2/12/09

9. Teeth of the Dragon 4/12/09

10. Orange Dihedral 08/09/09

11. Internal Dialogue 09/27/09

12. Thieves in the Temple 10/19/09

13. Second Rule 12/14/09 MF/CB 

14. SuperNatural 12/30/09

15. Winterharvest 01/18/10 

16. Flying Below Radar 04/01/10 

17. Hootenanny 05/05/10

18. Mixed Blessings 06/22/10

19. Gypsies 

20. River Song

21. Horse With No Name 

22. A Walk in the Park 

23. Blessed River

24. Infamous

25. Raindancer 08/18/10

26. Bridgeburners 11/14/10

27. Chasing Ghosts 12/24/10

28. My Silver Lining 

29. Castles Made of Sand 07/10/13

30. Nightshade 07/12/13

31. Ghosts of Christmas 12/25/13

32. Little Khumbu 06/23/14 

33. Jack in the Pulpit 07/05/14

34. Synergy MG/CG/JP 01/17/17

35. Pink Kung Fu 02/04/17

36. West End Girl  02/02/17

37. Windwalker 03/08/17

38. Ecstasy Loves Company 06/09/17

39. Pernicious Twits 07/08/17

40. Nick of Time 08/25/17 w/BB

41. Colors of the Fall 09/28/17

42. MPP 11/15/17

43. Fire on the Mountain 11/22/17

44. The Smoke Eater 11/30/17

45. New Kid on the Block 12/13/17

46. Let It Be 10/14/18

47. Afterglow 12/18/18

48. Take It To the Limit 01/01/19

49. Not Very Sporting 03/25/19

50. Running Against the Clock (est. w/MH) 04/26/21

 

Arizona: Northern Ga’an Canyon 

51. Pink Cadillac 03/18/12

52. Three-toned Gs 03/19/12

53. Fisher King 10/4-5/12

54. Working Class 12/08/12

55. Gypsy Conditions 12/25/12

56. Resolution 02/04/13

57. Stoneblind 02/04/13

58. Troll’s Shoulder 02/04/13

59. Trolls Under the Bridge 02/04/13

Colorado: Elevenmile Canyon

60. Gypsy Road 08/28/15

61. Tenuous 08/29/15

62. Owl, My Calves Are Burning 08/30/15 

63. Gypsy Rain 09/06/16

64. Calle Esposa 09/16/16 

65. Li’l Sumpin’ Sumpin’ 09/25/16

High Hopes

Beyond the horizon of the place we lived when we were young

In a world of magnets and miracles

Our thoughts strayed constantly and without boundary

The ringing of the division bell had begun

Along the Long Road and on down the Causeway

Do they still meet there by the Cut?

There was a ragged band that followed in our footsteps

Running before times took our dreams away

Leaving the myriad small creatures trying to tie us to the ground

To a life consumed by slow decay

The grass was greener

The light was brighter

When friends surrounded

The nights of wonder

Looking beyond the embers of bridges glowing behind us

To a glimpse of how green it was on the other side

Steps taken forwards but sleepwalking back again

Dragged by the force of some inner tide

At a higher altitude with flag unfurled

We reached the dizzy heights of that dreamed of world

Encumbered forever by desire and ambition

There's a hunger still unsatisfied

Our weary eyes still stray to the horizon

Though down this road we've been so many times

The grass was greener

The light was brighter

The taste was sweeter

The nights of wonder

With friends surrounded

The dawn mist glowing

The water flowing

The endless river

Forever and ever

Source: LyricFind

Songwriters: David Jon Gilmour / Polly Anne Samson

She

... is amazing, artistic, astounding, audacious, beautiful, brilliant, calm, captivating, caring, caustic, classy, comical, creative, curious, delightful, determined, direct, effervescent, earthy, faithful, fashionable, fierce, feminine, funny, gentle, generous, gracious, gutsy, helpful, humble, hilarious, indestructible, inspiring, inquisitive, insightful, imaginative, inventive, jealous (just a bit), kind, laconic, loving, misunderstood, maternal, maddening, moody, musical, naive, natural, no-nonsense, old school, original, outgoing, perceptive, personable, quiet, reserved, romantic, sarcastic, serious, singing in the rain silly, tasteful, tactful, undaunted, understated, unstoppable, untamed, unwavering, vivacious, voracious, watchful, wonderful, wilful, wild, wise, young at heart and filled with a zeal for life that nothing can hide.

She is Cindy.

And I'm lucky, because out of all the people wandering this old world, she chose to spend her days and nights with me.

Unsung Heroes; Melissa Wine

Writing about Melissa Wine is always a challenge.  Melissa was, like most of us, a riddle wrapped in an enigma surrounded by a mystery. She loved quiet mountains and riversides, heavy metal and loud bars, could drink like a fish and swear like a sailor, had a temper like a thunderstorm and a heart that was sometimes as tough as whale bone and others as fragile as spun glass. 

She was my best friend in a time when that meant much more than it does in the Facebook age. 

We drove up to Reddish Knob to watch meteor showers over the VA/WV border, listened to jazz and bluegrass on the Oldies Show on NPR, read and loved (or hated) the same novels and had long discussions about them, shopped kitschy pawn shops and backstreet jewelry stores, and once sang the entirety of Pink Floyd's "The Wall" while preparing lasangne for my housemates, who laughed at us the entire time. 

Before we were bolting lines at any crag, Melissa and I were devouring climbing; we top roped and learned to place and fall on gear and set-up simple lines on the short cliffs of the Shenandoah Valley: Hidden Rocks, Hone Quarry, Lover’s Leap, Goshen Pass, honing our skills for the challenging sandbagged classics of Seneca Rocks. 

Melissa at the base of Snakeskin Cowboys, Riven Rock Park, Rawley Springs, VA

We were humbled and challenged by the bulletproof sandstone of New River and the granite of Old Rag. We bouldered almost every stone over the height of ten feet in Gum Run and Rawley Springs, on Dictum Ridge and Second Mountain.  We spent a lot of time in a little shop called Wilderness Voyagers, with a great crew of hard-climbing outdoors loving men and women. 

  

One absolutely frigid winter morning, as Melissa and I faced the prospect of another cold day at Hidden Rocks, store manager and NRG hard person Tracy Ramm handed us a set of topos to a place called Franklin, a sunny little river gorge which was only thirty minutes further from Harrisonburg. 

We found our way to Pendleton County, and to Franklin, where our lives changed, forever.

Working into the crux of Potential Energy, Contact Zone, Franklin Gorge

One run up the juggy faces, and we were hooked.  Weeks were spent plotting, and our climbing days were spent learning at light speed around a core group whose names could be found in any guidebook to Eastern United States climbing; Burcham, Tracy and her future husband Eddie Begoon, George Powell, Howard and Amy Clark, Darrell Hensley, Angie McGinnis, Mike Artz, Tony Barnes, Tom Cecil, and Harrison Shull. These folks had created a climbing community which became a nursery for young climbers, a place for testing personal limits, pushing the grade and learning about the basics of bolting and the ethics of sport versus traditional climbing.

It was here that George Powell and I completed the first ascent of Anchor's Away, and shortly thereafter Melissa and I put up our first sport route together, Belly of the Whale.  

Over the next four years, we put up Aloha and Hard Thang, and assisted Darrell and John with their routes Edge-U-Cation, Walk the Plank, and Rock Your World. Melissa spent countless hours in freezing conditions working with me trying to carve a working line out of the face just left of Belly before admitting that it just wasn't going to go. We climbed every line below 5.12 at Franklin and fell off several of the 12s with determined laughter.

Melissa on the first ascent of Aloha, Franklin Gorge, Franklin, WV

Setting up for another day on the route that just wouldn't go, Franklin Gorge

We met some amazing climbers from across the nation and learned some hard lessons about impact when the area was included in several publications and traffic increased exponentially overnight. We watched and read as the problems plaguing our secret garden were debated and dissected in the national climbing press and, in some cases, the global climbing community.

And, eventually, with a nudge from the previous generation, we found Smoke Hole.

Leading Batteries Not Included, Long Branch, Smoke Hole Canyon

After Troy Johnson and I had broken ground, so to speak, Melissa Wine and Rachel Levinson joined us in a wave of stoke, and between the four of us routes began falling like dominoes.

The lady crushers ran up the FAs of routes like Hummingbird and Hippo's Head, repeated Through the Looking Glass and Hawk, then, further afield, bouldered in the Rawley Maze, on Second Mountain and Dictum, redpointed classics like Four Sheets to the Wind, Triple S, Rico Suave, and The Entertainer and kept coming back for more.

In the course of one frigid winter, Melissa and I put up six routes, including Batteries Not included and Overtime in Smoke Hole, and The Mushroom Tower and Rock of Ages in Germany Valley. 

Cleaning gear and crushing moves on Four Sheets to the Wind, NRG

We were pushing our envelope, each exploring the boundaries of their own comfort level; sometimes progressing rapidly, cleaning and drilling a line in a single day on rappel, sometimes forging ground-up, often solo, in fits and starts. 

Leaving the Endless Wall after a full day of sending.

I was working a construction job that had very little to offer the soul, and took the toll of a Titan on the body; pouring and finishing concrete three to five days a week, ten to twelve hours each day of wading shin-deep in material with the consistency of thick oatmeal, kneeling and trowelling for hours around some architect’s insane idea of a retaining wall; running jackhammer and building forms, tying rebar and then turning around to take it all apart again. 

The mountains were my only haven of sanity and balance.  My small cadre of climbing partners was my family.

L to R: Troy Johnson, Melissa, Tom Bunk and Owen Gartland, Ninja Walls, Smoke Hole Canyon

And Melissa was the star by which I steered, the sun that shone on my world, my enthusiastic partner in every hare-brained misadventure and exploration. 

Whether setting out into a -20F day to bolt new lines (we bailed), riding my GPz 750 Kawasaki down to Goshen to boulder and swim and just hang out, heading out at midnight to hear a band in a new bar with people we just met at the last one, or putting up new trad lines on lead with sketchy gear and bad landings, Melissa Wine was always good to go.

Gunsight to South Peak top-out, Seneca Rocks, WV. Melissa led this as her first gear lead a week later, and went on to put up a dozen trad routes in the next year.

Time passed, friends moved on or moved away, life changed, and the distance between two friends who fell in love with each other and climbing began to tell. A series of bad climbing falls, one on Critter Crack at Seneca and two more on a trad project in Smoke Hole, left Melissa with a hairline fracture in her ankle. Desperate for money, she took a job in the poultry industry, working in the nastiest of conditions, on an egg farm, in winter.

After 6 months of this, she quit and accepted a job as a cashier at Wal-Mart, where she soon began to make new friends and move up through the ranks of employees.

Melissa and Caspian, North Peak of Seneca

When I decided to quit my hellish construction job and spend the fall and winter exploring the West, Melissa told me that she couldn't just walk away from her family, her new job and her life in the Valley. Three days later, she moved out of our cabin in Rawley Springs, and one of the most amazing chapters of my life came to an end.

The rest is history; I went west and had many trials, epics and misadventures in Yosemite, Red Rocks, the Sierra, Joshua Tree, Owens River Gorge, and Flagstaff, the beginning of a life that has taken me to 47 of 50 states, putting up 200 routes and dozens of new boulder problems along the way, and finding the woman who has weathered every storm, shared every victory, and stood by me through thick and thin, famine and plenty, sunshine and storm, despite all my rough edges, extreme opinions, and un-PC judgements, the amazing Cindy Bender, who honored me by taking the last name of Gray. 

Melissa doesn't climb, now; she manages the Dollar General in a quiet little town just over the mountain from my home, and occasionally we run into each other in the grocery store or around town. She has weathered the years far better than I have, and her smile is just as bright when she thinks back on those days with a wistful nostalgia, those times "when my life was so much more exciting and interesting".

Melissa will forever be the amazing woman with whom I discovered so much of myself, the Shenandoah Valley, country life, and climbing, a country girl and old soul with whom I fell deeply in and never quite out of love with, not for many years after we parted company. 

If I often wish things had gone differently, it is not for myself or what-could-have been, but because I wish her life had gone down a different road, to a place of happiness and realization of her amazing potential, surrounded by friends.

Soloing up into the Gunsight Notch of Seneca Rocks

I've been trying to write this for seven or eight months, and it has been a challenge, for all the reasons above and because I lost my Dad in June and things with my family and that of my wife have just taken precedence.

Today I sat down and decided to finish this part, at least, to share with you, gentle reader, a glimpse, a snapshot, and my memories of an incredible woman who shared the journey and was a cornerstone of Smoke Hole climbing.

We all know heroes; friends and strangers who go out of their way for no better reason than to to pay it forward from a place of plenty, to hold themselves accountable, if only for a while, to a standard that we can be better, all of us. 

To fail is to be human, to overcome defeat, to try to be more is inspiring and to succeed, divine. To spend as much time and love lifting up others as we do in pursuit of our own dreams is the highest path we can aspire to walk.

It is important to acknowledge and remember; we stand on the shoulders of giants.

These are the unsung heroes of Smoke Hole Canyon; I'm just the guy who was lucky enough to climb with them and call them my friends.

Days of Future, Passed

2011/11/15