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This past winter, RMC members and friends were treated to a remarkable evening featuring two of the world's most accomplished climbers. Together, Dean Potter and Stephanie Davis have an array of mountaineering firsts to their credit. Dean is the only person to free climb Yosemite's Half Dome and El Capitan in a single day, and has a series of daring first solo ascents in Patagonia to his credit. His partner, Steph Davis, has made numerous first ascents of major peaks around the world, is the first woman to summit Fitzroy in Patagonia, and holds the record for the most free-climbing ascents of El Capitan. Dean has long family roots in Randolph and Gorham, and both his father Tony and Uncle Bob are Randolph residents. This story is from Yvon Chouinard’s autobiography, Let My People Go Surfing: The Education of a Reluctant Businessman, and is reprinted with permission of Dean and Yvon.—Editor. Zen Cold air from the valley drifts upward. It's predawn, and I've been moving on the Nose of El Cap through the night, focused on the rock in front of me in the faint light of my headlamp. Suddenly, I think of how tired and exposed I am, alone, rope-less, far past any point of retreat. A surge of panic courses through me. I try to think of the summit, but that thought is too dangerous. An image floats into my mind. I'm following my father in the early morning through a pasture in the White Mountains in New Hampshire. He strides towards Moose River, his favorite fishing spot. I'm not even half his height, and the frosty grass brushes all the way up to my waist. We reach the river. My dad skips from rock to rock, downstream to the first hole, and looks back for me. The water is freezing, and the rocks are covered in slime. I'm afraid to follow. I burrow painfully through the thickets of pricker bushes, swamp, and black flies as my father calls for me. The bugs chase me back to the river's edge, and I timidly wade in and try to catch up. Tense and anxious, I lose my footing and fall into the river. I gasp for breath in the icy water but manage to scramble onto a rock, where I bawl until my father comes back. "I don't like fishing. I want to go home." My father shakes his head at me, and his eyes sparkle. "Dean, put everything aside. There's nothing to be afraid of, except a little cold water. Just focus on the next step you are taking. I feel so happy running down the river, sun reflecting off the water, my body naturally going where it's supposed to. I almost don't think at all. I just respond to what's in front of me." He stops talking and heads downstream again. We slowly pick our way across the rocks, catching rainbows and brook trout. The day passes quickly, and my confidence rises. Soon I'm playing and racing down the rapids with eyes wide and senses alert, not knowing I've just received my first lesson in Zen. The air drifts over my body. I grasp the immediate. I reach for the next hold.
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