The Backstory Blog Post - Reflections from Oct. 2024
- Greg Luesink
- Jun 1, 2019
- 13 min read
Updated: Nov 16, 2024
Born in the year 2000... just kiddin! I will spare you the complete origin story of "who is Greg," that doesn't necessarily fit on this blog. Rather, I wanted to write as my "first" chronological piece a brief history of how I grew to appreciate the mountains. Hopefully this lays some meaningful groundwork for the future posts. (I set the publish date to be 2019 so it is at the "bottom" in the history).
I will try my best to keep it to the main highlights and signposts in my journey towards mountain and endurance sports.
Here goes...
Growing up, I occasionally went hiking with my dad and brother. We did overnight trips to places like Lindeman Lake starting when I was 5 years old. We did other smaller hikes over the years, but my first real hiking experience in the Chilliwack River Valley was going up Cheam at 12 years old. My Osgood Schlatter braces say it all: it was hard on my knees!
At 13 years old, I was told I had lumbar scoliosis. Going to physiotherapy launched me on a career path that I am still pursuing over a decade later. Those visits to physio began a fascination with the body and how it adapts to exercise. It led me to love strengthening my body. I believe that the focus on "core" to fix my scoliosis really helped me years down the line. After 2 years of consistent physio exercises for my core, my scoliosis basically disappeared.
Cool. What else can exercise do?
In my teenage years, I shifted my focus to sports like soccer and volleyball, but mostly basketball. I spent a lot of time trying to hone my skills, and I got to play on a high school team in Chilliwack. I didn't amount to much, since I ended up struggling with severe patellar tendonitis in both knees my senior year. It was so bad that I couldn't sit in a car for longer than 20 minutes without massive discomfort...
Physio round 2. Except this time it wasn't a good physio (big pharma, but in the form of a rehab clinic). I went back to the court too early, and the tendonitis just got worse. I sat on the bench for 4 months of the season, played the last 4 months, and then restarted my rehab after I graduated.
Summer 2018
I graduated high school, spent the summer working, and got to explore some mountains in the Chilliwack River Valley with my dad and brother. Here's us at the Webb-MacDonald col, sucking in ash from nearby fires. We didn't summit and my knees hurt the whole time, but it was a memorable backpacking trip. I liked the mountains, but the knee pain deterred me.
Fall 2018 to Spring 2019
I began my studies at the University of the Fraser Valley for my Bachelors of Kinesiology. This could be an entire chapter on its own, with a particularly fun tangent towards research. But, to summarize, I got a chance to learn about anatomy, physiology, and much more. That Fall, I also went on my longest hike, up Mount MacFarlane with my brother Eric. It was my 18th birthday, and it took us 10 hours car to car (partly due to Eric taking so many photos...). I was unbelievably tired and sore from it, but the views were astounding, and I relished the physical challenge that such a hike involved.
Throughout what would be 5 years at UFV, I began to develop my passions both in and out of the classroom. One class in particular piqued my interest early on: Kin 103 with Carl Nienhuis. In his class, he gave us an assignment to try one new physical activity that we'd never done before.
I chose to try out climbing.
So, I wrangled a few friends together to go check out Project Climbing Centre in Abbotsford. From day 1, I was hooked. I was both frustrated with how hard it was (I struggled to climb V1) and fascinated by this new medium of movement.
Carl's assignment launched me on a path that I never anticipated for myself, but one that I can't imagine my life without.
I spent the next few months going to the climbing gym whenever I could. I bought climbing shoes, a chalk bag, a climbing pass, and (because I didn't have a car...) convinced many of my friends to try out the sport as well so I could mooch a ride. Pretty soon, we had a regular group going weekly to climb at Project.
Along with this new-found passion for climbing, I still shared a joy for hiking with my brother, dad, and uncle. A really memorable trip from summer 2019 was overnighting on Flatiron, and scrambling up Needle the next morning. It felt cool to "climb" up Needle and practice all the moves I'd been honing in the gym.
In Fall of 2019, I went outdoor climbing for the first time at Harrison Bluffs, and absolutely fell in love with it. It felt like the logical progression for me. I enjoyed being outside, took to heights quite well, and was enchanted by the novelty of movement on rock. Sport climbing also involved a lot more gear, which I thoroughly enjoyed browsing for at Mt Waddingtons Outdoors, just a few minutes from my house. I bought a helmet, harness, and new shoes before I went climbing outside. That first day out, it felt like I was a warrior gearing up for battle with my weapons of choice.
Back to my knees for a moment. After high school, they still weren't great.
Physio round 3. I got referred by my doctor to an amazing guy named Jeff Brown in Chilliwack. He fixed me right up, teaching me many new techniques for rehab, especially the importance of stretching regularly. After working with Jeff for several months, my knees started to get a lot better. I finally played basketball without knee pain! I was in a men's league with some church friends, and our team was called "Prestige Worldwide" as I recall... alas, prestigious we were not. But just when things were looking up, the world came crashing down...
Covid-19 // Spring 2020
As with many people, the pandemic pushed me to explore alternative methods of physical activity. The basketball courts and climbing gyms were closed, and I needed a new outlet for my cardio desires. I purchased a Kona Rove from Vedder Mountain Bike Co., a pair of trail runners, and a running vest from MEC.
Along with climbing, I now had some really fantastic solo hobbies to do outside.
As I started running, I made some embarrassing mistakes with my training plan... especially for a Kinesiology student studying how to properly prescribe exercise. I decided that I only had time to run once a week with my work schedule... so I would increase by 10% each week. I ran 5k, 6, 7.... all the way to 16km on a diet of only one run per week. My calves were persistently sore, and I didn't figure out that frequency was more important than one long run if I wanted to improve at running.
Oh well. Lesson learned. Shorter, more frequent runs is best.
Summer 2020 - My Breakout Season
The end of summer had some exciting events. I went on a backpacking trip into the Middle Cheam Range with my friends TJ, Elyce, and Terrell. We summited Stewart, Baby Munday North, and Knight Peak, but bailed on The Still due to fog. Undoubtedly, the most stunning and remote location I'd been to thus far.
A few weeks later, for Eric's birthday, we hiked up to Conway Ridge aiming to get to the Lucky 4 Mine. While we didn't get to the mine, I saw the Cheam Range from a whole new perspective, leaving me more awestruck than before.
After that, I went on my first bikepacking trip with my friends Danika, Hannah, and Brayden. That's a story for another post... Paleface pass is steep and overgrown.
At the end of August, I went on my first multi-pitch climbing trip with Terrell to Canmore. Way in over my head, I took a 20 foot fall on the first pitch, and we got spooked beyond belief and called it quits. I was pretty bruised but had no broken bones thankfully. We decided to climb one pitch of a different climb to get "back on the horse", and we were both pretty shaky. Overall our big climbing trip was a bust, and we went home.
A few days later, I had the audacious invitation from my friend MK to ride 120 km with her and another friend Nich from Yarrow to Chilliwack Lake and back. I joined them and ended up riding to Columbia Valley and back too, tallying 160 km.
This progression of fitness was thrilling, and I was very keen on continuing to develop my climbing skills as well as my endurance. Now the challenge was to balance my new found passions for running, cycling, and climbing with school.
Fall 2020 to Winter 2021
A month into the school year, I did an overnight trip to MacFarlane with Eric. The mountain had become pretty significant to me, a testing ground of sorts. I also climbed some more outside at Harrison Bluffs (ironically, pictured in the same clothes below the same climb, just one year more experienced).
Not long after, I had a rough stretch. At the climbing gym, I strained my flexor digitorum profundus on my left ring finger, and the next day I crashed my bike descending Thornton Road. Thankfully, I was just bruised and scratched, despite hitting a concrete barrier in the rain, flying over it onto my back in the ditch. I felt pretty lucky with the recent events of falling in Canmore and crashing my bike. These helped me play it a bit more conservatively that winter.
Despite the finger injury, I found some excellent resources online for rehabbing my tendon and I made good progress towards returning to full strength. But then... disaster stroke! I was doing my rehab exercises, but got a bit too excited and didn't warm up enough. I was doing 2 finger pocket hangs with added weight when * Pop * - I felt the ring finger in my right hand do the exact same thing that happened in my left not 3 months before. These injuries ultimately led me to work on a research project in my 3rd to 5th years at UFV. More on that another time.
I was super bummed, but at least I knew exactly what to do. Rehab was much quicker and I was able to progress to having likely my strongest fingers ever. Spring of 2021, I climbed my second V8 at the gym. Yes, it was soft, but hey - I was still stoked! I also sent my first V5 boulder outside. Climbing was going well finally.
2021 Spring
In January of 2021, I had started taking running more seriously, running my first half marathon with some friends around the Vedder Rotary trail. That was really hard! But, it was a really rewarding achievement.
I proceeded to run at least one half marathon each month following. In April, I ran my first 30k around Cultus lake with my friend Nate and some others.
Before the 30k, I'd started dealing with some weird big toe pain in my right foot. I tried to rest before the big run but it flared up even worse after. It got so painful that I went to the doctor for x-rays. I found out that I had developed traumatic arthritis in my right Metatarasophalangeal (MTP) joint of my big toe. It was perpetually swollen and the doctor told me there wasn't anything I could do to reverse it. I was stuck with it, the only thing I could do was manage the pain.
But my toe injury didn't stop me from getting after it!
In August of 2021, I joined my friend Dustin last minute for his 50k run from Chilliwack Lake back home. It was incredibly hard, especially since I hadn't done much running that summer due to my toe situation. But, I made it through and really surprised myself with what was possible. Despite my toe pain, I was able to work through it and accomplish something I had all but relinquished as a dream after the arthritis diagnosis - my first marathon and 50k!
But not everything was sunshine and toe pain in 2021. I learned some valuable lessons that year.
The Accident on MacFarlane
A pivotal shift in my mindset in the mountains occurred on a hiking trip with some friends in May of 2021. Danika, Theo, Nathania, and I ventured up to the shrinking snowline to attempt MacFarlane. It's quite hard to write about this, because I still hold onto a lot of guilt, but I think it's important to share what happened and what I learned.
Near Upper Pierce Lake, I had traversed on a steep snow slope at the front of the group to check it out. I felt secure with mircospikes. As I looked back, I saw Danika lose her footing and start sliding down the snow. I yelled to self-arrest but she picked up speed too quickly and after 50 feet she slammed into a rotten tree. She let out a scream, and quicker than blinking Theo was making his way down to her.
Thankfully, Danika was conscious. At first glance looked totally fine other than some scratches. But, her right knee was aching terribly and she (also a Kinesiology student) immediately knew something was wrong.
At the time, I didn't own an inReach, so we didn't have one in our group. Confirmation bias had twisted my perception of safety in the mountains, leading me to think that just because nothing bad had happened prior, the chances of something happening now were negligible . Thus, I could probably get away without an inReach satellite device, right?
Wrong.
Well, first option was to self-extract. As Theo chopped steps in the snow with the shovel, I hoisted Danika up by the waist and she would plant her good leg. We did this for about 15 minutes, moving maybe 50 metres downhill. Quickly, I realized that this method would exhaust me before long. Without cell service, I couldn't call Search and Rescue (SAR), so I ran down to a snow-covered meadow hoping for a spot of service but no luck.
No luck. No cell service.
As I headed back uphill to get back to Danika, I heard the faint sound of voices lower on the trail.
HEY!!
WE NEED SEARCH AND RESCUE
COME QUICKLY
My voice boomed in the valley and I called as loudly and as clearly as I could to the group coming up behind us. This is where things get miraculous. In that group was an ACMG mountain guide, an ICU nurse, and two satellite devices. Rob, Valerie, Mikayla, Todd, Corinne, and Chuck got straight to work, hitting SOS on both their devices and helping get Danika more comfortable. Using the c-splint, tensor bandage from my first-aid kit and some packing tape (which Danika brought to seal her pants from snow), we fashioned a splint for her knee.
About three hours after the fall, we heard the helicopter overhead looking for us. Two SAR members long-lined down to us, disconnected, and rigged up Danika and Theo to get lifted out. A few minutes later and they were airborne and headed back to Chilliwack.
Danika was an absolute trooper, with a smile on her face through it all, despite the immense pain. Later, we found out that she had torn her ACL, MCL, and meniscus in her right knee as well as her left meniscus. The recovery time for ligaments is painstakingly longer than a bone break. So, while we had temporary relief that she had no broken bones made for an easier rescue, the severity of ligament damage led to a long recovery. Danika ended up having three knee surgeries and her knees have never been the same. Even so, after a over 3 years she is able to run, climb, bike, and even ski again! I'm relieved that Danika wasn't hurt more seriously, but I'm haunted by the impact that the accident has had on her.
Years later as I write this, I have several important lessons that I've taken with me throughout my adventures (many yet to be written about). I was the "trip planner" and leader on the trip. Even though Danika has made it repeatedly clear that she doesn't blame me for it, I still feel responsible in a way. There are many things I would do differently:
I was familiar with the route and the mountain, but only in Fall with no snow.
Different season, different mountain - don't underestimate it.
I thought that microspikes would be adequate for this trip. I even rented some shovels, probes, and beacons just in case there was an avalanche (although it was highly unlikely). We met a solo hiker wearing crampons and carrying an ice axe who bailed just past where the accident ended up happening. That should have been the sign to turn around.
Take the right gear. Over-prepared is better than under-prepared.
Cell service is often non-existent in the mountains, or spotty at best.
Always carry a satellite device (inReach, Zoleo).
As trip leader, I offered a "veto" card to everyone: whenever they felt uncomfortable they could turn the group around. I learned this from my trip in the Middle Cheam Range with TJ, Elyce, and Terrell. I used my Veto while on The Still, Elyce agreed with me, and we descended as a group. While this is a good premise in a group setting, I have realized that it is inherently flawed. Unless someone feels confident to voice their feelings (like I did on The Still), social pressure will cause most people to swallow their concerns, not wanting to slow everyone down or ruin the adventure. This is especially notable when a group has never been hiking together before (which was the case). I was the most "experienced" person, so I wasn't going to do anything that felt dangerous to me. But I missed the fact that others have different thresholds of comfort and risk tolerance. While I felt totally in control, Danika told me later than she was way beyond her comfort zone but didn't say anything.
As group leader, it is my responsibility to check-in with each member and to offer many opportunities to discuss turning around, not just offer a "veto" to each person.
There's a song that I think of that summarizes the lessons learned. The Gambler goes:
Know when to fold 'em, know when to walk away, and know when to run. You never count your money, when you're sittin' at the table. There'll be time enough for countin', when the dealin's done.
Know when to call it. Know when to turn around. Don't call it a victory standing on the summit, you still have to descend the mountain. Don't let the summit become the only focus, disregarding signs and safety of everyone involved. The only time to celebrate is when you are home safe. Don't take safety for granted.
I think I will leave it there for now. I could say a lot more, and probably could have said a lot less. But, I hope that this post provides some insight into what drives me, how I started out adventuring, and what things I learned early on.
The title page of this blog has a quote from Topher Donohue. Go check it out. It'll probably make a little more sense now.
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