What Turns You On?

I was so warm and snug in my sleeping bag when the alarm went off at 4.30am. The air temperature would have been around -10°C with my nostrils were stinging with each breath. I was somewhat reluctant to get out of my sleeping bag. Kneeling at the tent entrance and reaching outside to grab my boot, I wasn’t surprised to find it well frozen. I should have kept it in my sleeping bag, along with my prosthetic leg. I slowly brought myself to life and stood upright in a cold boot and a warm socket. Looking skywards I was greeted by a few billion bright stars. Getting out of bed was already worth it. 

We were a short walk from the base Mt. Ngauruhoe and our world was quiet and beautiful. We kept plugging away for over an hour until I saw a good photo opportunity, at least half way up the mountain. I steadied myself on the 45 degree icy slope, felt my crampons slip a little on the bullet-proof ice and took my pack off to reach my camera and tri-pod. I was fixated in the moment and ignored a comment from a mate suggesting I ensure my belongings we attached to either myself or the mountain. Satisfied with the photographs of the breath-taking environment that lay below, I reached for my pack to re-pack the camera gear, but it was gone. The damn pack must have jumped off my ice axe and slid to the bottom of the mountain all by itself. Bugger! 

All my essential gear (including sunglasses/goggles) was gone and in less than an hour I knew I would find it difficult to see with the sun’s reflection bouncing off the blue ice and into my eyes. I had got up early, braved the cold, steep ice, lost my gear and now I had to turn around. I watched my mates soldier on towards the top of Mt. Ngauruhoe. It was about that time I asked myself, what the hell am I doing up here?

Walking back down the mountain, I knew damn well why I was there – the mountains turn me on. I was chasing that feeling of elation and satisfaction I knew I’d get when standing on top of Mt. Ngauruhoe to watch the sunrise. Except, today clearly wasn’t my day.

As I picked my way down the mountain, I squinted into the sunlight and began to think about how lucky I was, to have a hobby that I’m so passionate about. Any opportunity to enjoy the great outdoors makes me want to jump out of my sleeping bag, no mater how cold or tired I am.

Without being so passionate about my hobby, I wondered what I would have to motivate me on a daily basis. How else would I be able to put that much excitement and adventure into my life? What would I have to put my daily life into perspective? 

I like being able to compare putting on a frozen boot and a cold leg to life’s daily squabbles that really are insignificant in the grand scheme of things. I like savoring a memory from an outdoor trip, or anticipating an upcoming adventure when I’m battling through projects at work. 

The outdoors certainly aren’t for everyone, but I reckon everyone needs to be passionate about something. What are you passionate about and what turns you on? 

P.s I did find my bag – nestled amongst a rocky outcrop a long, long way down the mountain with all it’s contents in one piece.