By Jim Herson
It is a surprisingly thin line between nurturing a child's wanderlust and a restraining order.
Mathematicians, not given to hyperbole, prefer the term "transfinite cardinal" to describe large numbers. Like really big. Like the number of different shades of non-gloss basic white paint the corner hardware store feels compelled to stock. Or the number of wildly diverse, diametrically opposed, scientifically proven parenting philosophies. The latter, being transfinite, is just slightly larger than the number of bay area children.
Hedging our bets, with a limited sample size of two, we embraced the extremes in what we like to call 'differential parenting'. Thus Connor goes to what we affectionately refer to as the 'Bubble school.' A safer, more nurturing, "whole child" environment you can not find. Not that I'm not sympathetic to the sandbox emotional complexities of a 2nd grader. But I'm thinking the two full time counselors for 100 of the nicest, most well behaved, and coddled over 5-10 year olds have a bit of spare time on their hands. They fill it with things like sending home 3 page memos on coping strategies for the emotional trauma associated with the unfamiliarity of the new eco-designed-out-of-recycled-baby-panda-hair play structure. Kara, by contrast, goes to the local, hard bitten, down trodden, public middle school. There the teacher marches in on the first day and bellows out in her most empathetic drill Sergeant nurturing tone "You are 7th graders and you smell!", whereupon she launched into the most creative and terrifying lecture on puberty and personal hygiene. The precipitous drop in Redwood City water pressure that evening followed the next morning by 93 of the sweetest, cleanest smelling 7th graders ever assembled suggests a rather effective alternative to tip toeing around the emotional eggshells of puberty.
Similarly, Connor gets to do a gentle 300' approach and enjoy a gorgeous, friendly, casual romp up Royal Arches on a warm, delightful fall day while Kara gets to grind up the treacherous approach slabs for 4hrs, teetering under a crushing load, to kick steps up the ice encased NW face of Half Dome in late November.
The results are unsurprising. Kara quietly gets it done while Connor is comfortable expressing his feelings that perhaps not everyone on Royal Arches is progressing at an optimal pace. The good natured Royal Arches parties were thankfully forgiving when the 8yo punk spewed "Come on dad! Why are you waiting for these guys! Just pass them!!" Or at least more forgiving than when Chan pulls those shenanigans.
Diplomacy skills aside, Connor did great on RA. We had a blast while rudely passing six parties although I would not have thought it possible to talk that much and climb. And I climbed with Jeff!
The North Dome descent gully provided challenges for the little guy so the next morning we chilled and had a blast tooling around Yosemite Falls
with some outstanding caving
before enjoying the 300yrd flat approach to Nutcracker which he styled but mostly he just chatted.
As a way to introduce him to "belaying" I anchored two long loops in the rope which he was to untie as they became tight while I climbed. And so 100' out when the first loop became tight the "Whoops! I untied the wrong loop!" was not comforting although no worse than the usual nonsense my partners pull.
Since Half Dome last summer, Kara has been one busy child which tragically did not include granite other than a stunning labor day hike/climb up Charlotte Dome . Between soccer, cross country, bouldering, flute, piano, and a crazy amount of homework -- a standard carefree slacker childhood these days -- I, admittedly with a bit of melancholy, had to accept that Kara's interests might have moved on. But then with a small window in the soccer schedule and a gorgeous forecast she jumped at my suggestion of picking up where we left off with a one day ascent of Half Dome.
To paraphrase, you don't climb on the weekends you want, you climb on the weekends you have. It now being late November, Anne greeted my HDiaD brainstorm with slightly less flexibility and accommodation than a congressional debt commission. She thought it prudent to wait six months for longer, warmer days. Honestly, for such a smart woman she has some wacky ideas.
Clearly Kara would have to go it alone in securing mom's permission. After 25 years, any hint of my complicity would have been like having Anthony Weiner advocate for unfettered internet access. Regardless of the merits, we just weren't going to help our respective causes. Things weren't looking promising when I excitedly showed Kara the stellar Thanksgiving forecast. "Yeah, but mom showed me the Half Dome webcam and pointed out all the snowy ledges." After 25 years I would have been worried had Anne not launched this predictable preemptive strike which I easily rebuffed by pointing out "Yeah but 90% of the face has no snow!" Armed only with reasonableness, Anne never stood a chance. Because beneath that responsible maternal thin veneer lies a climber. Kara, admittedly with dad's prodding, pulled out the bambi eyes and the motherly facade quickly melted away. Permission was granted with a large sigh "To climb in the valley and use appropriate judgment in route selection." The HD gear was hastily packed.
Actually it was more complicated than that. First we submitted to binding arbitration. Unfortunately Ashok's look of astonishment that I need ask if HD in late Nov was a good idea required I recuse him on grounds of excessive rationality. As usual when in such a bind I went to my goto man Greg which is sort of like consulting with the Octomom on birth control. Anne, who feels strongly that Greg need not be consulted in matters beyond beer and bubbly, was not swayed by my argument that Greg is his company's new Safety Officer! I'm not sure what that entails though, as his wife Annie was howling with laughter when she tried to tell us about it.
Captain Safety came through as expected pointing out that it technically wouldn't be a winter ascent. Well, ok, actually it was the bambi eyes that clinched it.