A Momentary Glance at The Scale of Things

In the 1990s, I used to teach folks basic rock climbing.  I would bring students to the local crags at Taylors Falls on the St. Croix River which separates Minnesota and Wisconsin.

Often, the students, in harness, roped and completely safe, would get about 10 or more feet up off the ground.  They'd pause before reaching for the next handhold and look down. Then, their legs would start to shake.  I would always have a firm hand on the rope which reached up above to a pulley and back down to their harness. They were completely safe. Should they slip and fall, they'd be caught and the climbing rope would not let them drop more than a couple feet. The climbing rope was rated for over 10,000 pounds of weight. It might stretch a little bit but no harm was to come from the fall and the climber was perfectly safe.  But the body was not willing to believe it!

Weekend Climbing On Local Crags

Nevertheless, the students often would start to shutter and get the "Yips".  It became hard for them to focus on the next move;  they could not keep their attention off the distance from where they were to the ground.

I'd counsel students to not think about the heights but rather to focus their concentration only on the next handhold and the next step up.  Sometimes the student would be able to refocus on the task at hand. Or not.  If not, I'd have them let go of the rock and then slowly lower them back down to the ground. Learn to trust the rope.  Time to let them take a breath and allow the adrenaline to clear out of their system. After a 'time out' usually they would retry and succeed in completing the climb.

The same principal holds true for big bike touring projects. Don't thinking about total distances.   Yet, this evening, I violated my own rules.  I looked at the map and contemplated on the scale of the distance to travel. 

I'd been fiddling on Google Maps this afternoon, drawing up some general corridors for my upcoming  trip.  I happened to lay out the route from Morris, Illinois to O'Neill, Nebraska.  After copying down some way-points, I panned back on the map to look at this section of the continent. The section is, a little over 600 miles, but when laid out against the entire continent it looked like Small Potatoes....  Yikes!

On The Edge of the "Big Empty"

It provides a daunting aspect. O'Neill, Nebraska is on the edge of the High Plains that stretch off into the distant west.  The Green, Moist Midwest is back behind the Missouri River and the winds and scarcity of the vast Great American Desert lies ahead. It's another 1600 miles of pedaling to the Pacific (Newport, Oregon). The Rocky Mountains lie between. On reaching the ocean, it not the end of the trip. From there, I'll have another 160 miles to get up to Portland, climbing back over the Cascade Mountains........    It's enough to make me momentarily shudder!!  

So, I give myself the same sort counsel I used to give new climbers: Focus on each step and not on the big picture.  Don't shake yourself up with imaginings and 'What If's? Be Tactical.  Each day is it's own package...