Making it Happen

So often teachers come to our centre talking about cuts; lack of money and resources or unsupportive management and parents. All of which makes the visit to us harder and harder.

Last week was a little more refreshing, a head teacher had come with his school and one morning, on a whim, he enquired about the possibility of doing a follow up kayak river trip in a few weeks time. My boss found a vacancy for him and by the afternoon he was on the phone to his secretary asking her to send a letter out to parents. Just like that a decision was made that will enrich the lives of the children who get to go and possibly become a pivotal moment for them, be that through increased confidence, making new friends or even starting a new hobby.

It made me stop and think about what it really is that holds us back, sometimes it is easier to blame others than to accept responsibility yourself. It reminded me of how I got my job. I had wanted to be a windsurfing instructor since I was in school, but in my floaty way I ended up on a fine art degree, so when I graduated I naturally began work in galleries and museums. My floating eventually swept me to dry land and I realised that I was working in an IT suite as an outreach worker, with a boss who appeared to be agoraphobic. I blamed several things for not having my dream instructor job, my location, lack of qualifications, even my partner. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my degree and enjoyed lost of things about the job I had. I’m still in touch with some of the people I worked with, but I knew things were headed in a direction I didn’t want to go and so I had to get out.

One afternoon I googled outdoor pursuits companies in my local area and sent out a letter asking for advice on how to get into working in the outdoor industry. I expected the response to be at most ‘no qualifications equals no job’, really I expected nothing and looked for other avenues of escape. A few weeks later I got a response, in the form of two letters and two interviews. After all that time, all I needed to do was ask. The only thing holding me back was me.

I’m glad that this head teacher came to visit last week; I’m glad that he has reminded me that you can’t just wait for things to happen. A small action can make a big change… Imagine what a big action can do!!

Being an Artist Again

I graduated in 2006 with a degree in fine art, I spent almost 6 years volunteering as a board member at an art gallery, was a studio artist, took part in exhibitions, projects, commissions and residencies. I was totally immersed in my life as an artist and I absolutely loved it. My artwork had meaning and it was thought provoking, I was producing work about Alzheimer’s and was even invited to talk about it at events. It was more than pretty pictures and far from the clichéd watercolour painting of a fox.

Two years ago I got my current job as an outdoor education instructor and gradually I’ve slipped away from the art scene, I left the art gallery due to lack of time, I have a shed studio now but I never go in and let my website lapse. I hadn’t quite realised how far it had got until my boyfriend told me he struggled to describe what kind of artwork I do to one of his friends.

This was a turning point for me, it really shocked me and I immediately started work looking at the limited artwork I had done over the last two years. It consisted of drawings, some prints and some photographs. Putting together a new website really helped me to feel better about my past and current artwork. See it here www.katiemayshipley.blogspot.co.uk It has even sparked new ideas for artwork.

I’m nowhere near ready to start applying for exhibitions and projects, but I have got a few things up my sleeve…

BFF & Banff Film Festival 2013

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Last weekend I went to the Banff Film Festival in Stafford, I nestled in to my seat in the theatre full of down jackets and 40 something year old men and watched with awe, excitement and sometimes fear as the intrepid jumped, climbed and paddled their way across the screen. As inspiring as the dare devil acts were, for me there was one overwhelming theme that ran through the first few films: Crossing the Ice, Wide Boyz and Flow Hunters were all about groups of friends doing the things that they love… together.

I had a heart-warming moment as I thought of a friend’s birthday trip I was part of only a few weeks ago in Snowdonia. A T4, T5 and a VW Golf estate parked up in a lay-by housed 6 sleeping climbers one Friday night after work. We woke early took in the snowy views, yawned and headed off up to the Llanberis Pass. We walked up and up and up in low visibility, navigating through gaps in the clouds toward Parson’s Nose. As two groups of three we roped up and started the ascent with two more groups hot at our heels. We topped out on Crib Y Ddysgl and gently strode to the top of Snowdon in almost white out conditions, then gingerly descended down the Miner’s Path in the ensuing darkness. It felt good to get to Eric’s Café in Tremadog that evening to eat birthday cake, drink wine and chat about the day.

The highlight of the trip for me was at one point during the climb, a solo climber pranced quietly passed us stopping only to ask quickly ‘are you with a guide or instructor?’ to which I responded ‘no, we are just a group of friends!’ As I answered I was hit with a huge sense of pride and I can still feel it now, I’m so happy and constantly amazed that my friends and I have the ability and inclination to go on these adventurous trips. We all look after each other, without the need for baby-sitting or hand holding, there is little or no fear and no drama queens. Having capable friends around you makes these trips even more memorable experiences, knowing you can trust them with your life and that they are willing to trust theirs to you makes the experience and the friendship much stronger. Plus it’s just more fun to do things with your friends!

There was sadly one massive thing missing from the film festival, this was the inclusion of films about women (and no a cute film about a dog called Lily doesn’t count!). I know there are excellent films out there for example Jen Randall’s film Push It about her and her friend Jackie’s fun but remarkable ascent up El Cap; it even fits in with the friendship theme. There is only one thing for it, I’ve decided that I and a few of my female friends are going to have to get out there and start making films about the things we are up to. I’ll have to start saving for a video camera!

Check out a taster of Push It by clicking here...

Venting: Pros and Cons of Staff Housing

 

When I first started looking at working in the Outdoor Industry I was massively put off jobs/apprenticeships that required you to live on site. I had my own life, was renting a house close to my friends and didn’t want to have to up sticks for a job, it felt like it would be a backwards step. However, since getting my lovely, rare, 9-5 outdoor education job one thing has led to another and I am currently living in the staff housing. 
 

I’ve always told myself that it’s different to any other staff accommodation. Yes you can hear the evening or weekend activities when you’re trying to relax on the days you’re not working, but nobody ever expects you to do anything for work once you’re home or to work longer hours or anything like that. In fact it’s almost like not living at work at all. It’s actually really good quality accommodation and somehow I’ve managed to end up with a three-bed semi on my own for the last 6 months, well with a semi-permanent live-in boyfriend. And it’s cheap, although my savings don’t reflect that after the recent ski trip! But a few weeks ago something clicked and I haven’t been able to help taking a less positive look on the whole living at work thing.

It started when I got a bit fed up of people assuming they could access the house whenever they wanted, without giving notice. I never thought I was a prude but I just don’t want the fire inspector seeing my underwear drying in the spare room. I asked that we get 24 hours notice; the request was ignored twice until I shut myself in with my boss in his office until he saw clearly my point of view. I now get notice, but not about what they are doing in there. To cut a long story short a private company is buying out our service and they are doing all over surveys quickly before they take over in about a months time. I found out today that part of the survey involved them having to go into my built-in wardrobe; I officially have no private space and I was really pissed off. At least the guy who did the survey looked suitably more embarrassed about it than I felt angry. Now even innocent comments that are only slightly related to the fact that I live at work are met with a forced smile/grimace.

Apparently the new companies plan C for the staff accommodation is ‘holiday lets.’ Who knows what plan A, B, D, E or F are. We could be out on our ear in who knows how long and I can’t really afford to move out, so I have no other option than just to try and relax and ride it out. I am, therefore, going to make the most of being able to save, walk to work, live in the countryside and have a big house to myself with off road parking! Maybe I can live with a few unexpected visitors after all…

Ski Trip... finally!

I've always wanted to go on a ski holiday, but you know the story... loads of people all say 'yeah let's do it' 'we should go as a group it's always better in a group!' but when it comes to the crunch nobody ever actually pulls their finger out and books. Well I'm happy to say I finally found a man who books! So a few weeks ago I was setting my alarm for 3am to catch a flight to Geneva.

I’d be lying a bit if I said I'd never ski'd before, I did spend a day in Scotland on very little snow, lifts closed, trudging up the slopes in my boots and trying to film a friend whilst ploughing slowly down. But when we woke up for our first day in the Aosta valley, I knew I was in for something completely different. Everyday of the holiday I was struck by the magnificent beauty of Mont Blanc and the surrounding mountains, how clean the streets were and how much fun it was to communicate in French with the Italian locals.

After the initial semi-stress of finding the lifts, ski hire and ski school, I was happy to bumble around on my skis with Alessio my instructor whilst the other more experienced of the group bombed off around the mountains. I quickly became confident on the skis but not so much with navigating the slopes and the lifts. My fear was that I would end up at the top of a black with no way of escape but down.

On my first day without lessons I got really fed up. I was on my own skiing the same slope over and over, getting quicker but stuck in a blue rut. I didn't have the confidence to try a red on my own and I didn't want to drag one of the boys with me. I was going to ask for the apartment keys, go back and never ski again... The two snowboarders in our group bumped into me at exactly the right time...'if you can do that blue you can definitely do this red... come on.' I was nervous but something clicked half way down. I could do reds! Now most of the mountain was open for me, my boyfriend showed me some more lifts and red slopes and I was off! Every slope left me more confident and I even started skiing down unknown slopes and getting unfamiliar lifts. I was so excited; of course Simon was too cool to be excited just saying 'I knew you'd be good at it' (not even a smile… tut).

By the end of the week I'd fallen lots, messed up so much my skis had popped off, had a ski tantrum, was happily skiing on reds and had seen most of the mountain. More than I thought I would ever achieve on the trip. It was tiring but worth it, up for the first lift every day, only coming down when the last lift had closed. Leaving us with barely enough energy for drinking and eating in the evening.

I hadn't really realised how much fun I had until I was putting my shoes on for work on the following Monday. I found myself thinking 'the last time I wore these was walking back to the apartment after my last day on the slopes.' Since then I've wished I were back there shooshing around. Before the trip I was so nervous about every aspect of the holiday, when people asked if I was excited I'd say 'I'm excited about the next ski trip, when I know what I'm doing.' It's still true; I'm so excited about my next trip, whenever it will be.

A bit more than sledging...

I’ve been reading Andy Kirkpatrick’s Psycho Vertical and it’s making me very excited about getting back out climbing after my sprain. I’m going skiing in Italy in Feb and have already fantasised about taking in a climb while I’m there. My fantasies however were stalled when I heard the news about the six climbers in Scotland. How tragic for the climbers and their families.

The news article took me back to last winter when I went up to Scotland with some colleagues for a week over February half term. I’d never done anything beyond sledging in the snow before, so I was a bit nervous. I’d borrowed some crampons and an ice axe and we headed off to the Cairngorms, staying in a log cabin that was really just a glorified static caravan. On the first day one of our party slipped whilst learning to use crampons and damaged her ankle, it was scary how quickly an injury like that can happen.

The following day five of us climbed Fiacaill Ridge. As we got up high the view disappeared behind clouds and mist and there was a strong wind. We opted for a gulley climb instead of a scramble and kitted up, attached by a rope to four guys I hardly knew and only my second time using crampons and an ice axe I stepped out onto possibly the steepest face I’ve ever walked on (well it felt that way given the conditions). There wasn’t much of a view but it was one of the most exciting walks/climbs of my life. At one point I was concentrating so much on my hands and feet I didn’t notice how high and steep the slope we were on was until a strange sound caught my ear, I looked across and saw a small bit of snow tumbling down hundreds of meters of slope to a very rocky coire bottom. I quickly shook myself back to the task at hand but I’ll never forget that stomach churning moment.

The trip was so much fun it was easy, I even earned the name ‘the iron lady’ from the guys we were with, luckily not because they thought I look like Maggie Thatcher but because apparently I am, and I quote, ‘nails!’

The most fun part was getting the down hill directions wrong and ending up sliding down the side of a red ski slope on our bums!

When taking part in these kinds of activities there is always a risk, but sometimes that is what makes it so exciting to do. Andy K describes it as a fire, one that burns inside you and is only satisfied with exciting and usually dangerous activities. Admittedly my fire burns at a slightly lower temperature than Andy K’s, I can’t see myself solo climbing El Cap, but the feeling is addictive none the less. Although my fantasies were stalled by the tragic news, stalling is all it is, the risk will never stop me dreaming up new adventures and doing the things that I love.

Inspired to be better

Last week I started writing a blog post about teaching kids climbing etiquette, in the text I got on my high horse and moaned about kids pushing in on bouldering problems at walls and having no manners, I politely asked that walls and parents considered adding etiquette to their coaching sessions. I have now paid the price for my nagative moanings, karma has come up and bitten me on the bum, well the ankle to be more accurate. Before publishing said post I went back to the offending kids haunt, the same wall where the kids had pushed in between my friend and I as we took it in turns to solve various problems. A few climbs in and I was reaching for the last hold of a climb on an overhang, I was pretty sure I was going to get it but I missed and came tumbling down. I landed on the outside of my right foot and felt it go pop! I have never broken anything, or torn ligaments, I’ve been pretty lucky. I can’t describe the pain, but I remember waiting for it to ease, I could hear my friend and the guy from the wall asking me questions and I was thinking ‘I’ll just wait until the pain goes before I respond,’ but it didn’t go anywhere. I think I then started repeating my friend’s name, just to say something, looking back on it now I probably sounded like a bit of a weirdo.

Four days later and I’m sitting on my sofa, leg propped up; at the hospital they said it was inconclusive, it could be a fracture or a bad sprain. Either way I’ve got a week of not doing anything with my ankle, three weeks of not walking outside (a mean feat for an Outdoor Education Instructor) and then a further eight weeks of no ‘adventurous activities’. I didn’t ask for a definition of ‘adventurous’ what is adventurous for a doctor who had never heard the word ‘bouldering’ before is most certainly different to what I consider to be adventurous. I’m skiing in February no matter what they say.

The worst bit is having to ask people to do things for me, some friends are great and just help you without you even noticing, others have to be asked and I hate asking for help. Without wanting to sound too dramatic, I feel like a burden, I’m usually very independent. If I was reaching for something and there was a tall guy around the corner, I’d much rather stand on a chair balanced on a table, with a yard brush in my hand and get it myself than have to ask. This week I’ve had to ask. I was in a shop yesterday on my crutches and I wanted to buy something, I sheepishly asked the woman on the counter if she wouldn’t mind picking up the bits that I wanted, she could tell I was a bit ashamed to do it. When we got to the counter she quietly said to me ‘Don’t’ worry, lots of people ask me to do this for them when there is nothing wrong with them at all!’

So if I can’t climb, or walk outside, what am I going to do for the next three and a half weeks? I remember seeing a stop motion video made by a climber who had broken his toe. He recorded himself campusing on the underneath of the stairs on a road bridge, his upper body strength improved massively over the time of the video; I need to improve my upper body strength but I’m a bit afraid of landing on the offending ankle and making it worse. I’m sure I’ll think of something, in the mean time I’m reading, starting with ‘Annapurna: The great adventure of our time’ and I’ve got a pile of other books. Perhaps they will inspire me.

If there is one thing this experience has already inspired me to do, it is to be a better climber… and practice my landing.