Facing fear of heights | Poor Penmanship

Above acrophobia

If you’ve ever strayed outside of your comfort zone, you’ll understand why I’m so proud of my friend Theresa.

Theresa went back to Michigan yesterday after a week in Utah. It was her second trip west of the Mississippi. It was the first time she’d ever seen a mountain.

Many of us Utahns are here because of the mountains. Seeing them is a comforting reminder that adventure is near. Driving into them is like Christmas morning.

For Theresa, driving into them was more like driving into a black hole. She fidgeted in her seat as we drove into the Stansburys for a weekend at Deseret Peak.

“People shouldn’t be here,” she muttered. Click, click, click of the camera. More fidgeting. “I don’t know how I feel about this.”

The hike, for me, was a walk in the park. We took a gradual ascent through wildflowers and tumbling brooks below a blue sky and limestone cliffs.

Theresa’s fun was more halting. She tiptoed delicately around rocks I’d just stomp over. She made feeble pleas to turn back at the first stream crossing. We pressed on, and she later said Deseret Peak was the most amazing thing she’d ever seen.

But with each obstacle, I saw more clearly how uncomfortable this was for her. She grew up in urban Flint and spent her vacations in cities. She probably never before had crossed a river without a bridge or stepped on a rock higher than her knee. Even in Iowa I spent a lot of my childhood playing in the woods, crawling on logs tipped over streams, hiking down small ditches that we called “cliffs.” It was what we did. It was the only reason the hike was easy for me.

By the time we reached the final water crossing, I realized this was Theresa’s equivalent of leaping over Class 4 rapids (boyfriend blocking her view of the scary stuff):

That is someone mustering a lot of courage.

We were in and out of the wilds all week. Each trip was a new challenge.

The rocks got wet in the rain above Red Butte Gardens.

You don’t have to be a city girl to feel agoraphobic in the salt flats.

But it was on Guardsman’s Pass, the highest road I’ve ever driven, that I understood how far Theresa had pushed herself. As we rounded a curve, she threw her jacket over her head and began to hyperventilate.

“Scenery’s pretty good up here,” I said. “Sure you want to miss it?”

“I can see it in pictures,” the jacket said.

Here you go, Theresa. You earned it.

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friends, outdoors | Erin Alberty | June 11, 2009 1:11 pm

19 Comments

By Sarah Bellum, June 11, 2009 @ 1:23 pm

Boyfriend is so patient! He’s a good guy.

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By Theresa, June 11, 2009 @ 1:29 pm

omg. i look like an idiot in that video! lol. i was not crying, fyi. i was whining. loudly.

good god. that is embarrassing! i swear the river looked um… bigger than that. oh well. it WAS really pretty in the mountains.

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By Jeremy, June 11, 2009 @ 1:45 pm

Looks like a good time to me.

Congrats Theresa!

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By Erin Alberty, June 11, 2009 @ 1:54 pm

The video is awesome. It’s not whining when you’re actually that scared!

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By soul-fusion, June 11, 2009 @ 2:34 pm

Impressive! I took advantage of how used to the mountains and nature I was until I took a NYC-raised friend on a tour of my home state. Two things I remember well – driving up the canyon (coincidentally towards Guardsman Pass) she pointed toward the mountain and asked “what’s back there,” when I failed to understand the question and answered “rocks, trees, bushs, deer . . .” she added “and psycho killers?” She also – on video – mocked my description of a favorite trail as having a “gentle slope” at the edge as being a tiny sliver of path on the side of a cliff. She helped acquaint me with city life so it was only fitting that I introduce her to mountain life.
LOVE the video by the way. I have that same terror when I’m supposed to jump into water. I’m just not hard core enough to cliff jump.

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By Sra, June 11, 2009 @ 3:08 pm

Interesting. It never occurred to me that people might have a difficult time adjusting to outdooring. But, adjusting to big cities can be difficult from the Utahn’s perspective, so I suppose it only makes sense.

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By heidikins, June 11, 2009 @ 3:24 pm

I remember when my cousins (bred in urban Texas) came to Utah for the first time, a jaunt up American Fork canyon was paralyzing–they thought the walls of the canyon were going to cave in on them.

I love the mountains, and Guardsman is gorgeous!

xox

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By Lil, June 11, 2009 @ 3:47 pm

Theresa’s discomfort totally resonates with me. I’m acrophobic and completely understand trying to move outside of that precious comfort zone. Good job, Theresa. :-)

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By Theresa, June 11, 2009 @ 3:59 pm

Aww! Thanks everyone. :)

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By dave eilers, June 11, 2009 @ 5:46 pm

Isaac Asimov talked about native city dwellers being claustrophillic and having a significant discomfort of open spaces in one of his novels.

Way to face your fears!

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By Randy, June 11, 2009 @ 6:07 pm

Theresa I know nothing of you but what ijust read. But I will say this. GOOD FOR YOU! I am an outdoor professional, I work as a cnslr. at a residential substance abuse center here in Utah. I do something calle Experiential therapy, it’s learning based on experienceing things.
We talk TONS about 4 zones
Comfort zone: dangerous place to be because we learn nothing, we are immersed in what we already know. Poor decisions come from having a comfortzone that has to do with dangerous situations ie: heights, playing in traffic, heroin use etc.
Groan Zone: not out of the comfort zone just yet but on the way. LOTS of whining and excuse making.
Learning Zone: Not totally sure of what the hell got you here or what you are doing here, but you’re WILLING to give it a go.
Panic Zone: fight or flight time here, crying, screaming, swearing, wetting of pants, vomiting etc. happens here. DANGEROUS place to be, reall poor decision making based on irrational thought patterns, resentments ie: ” I tried that once I’ll never do it again” all that stuff happens here.
You were solidly in YOUR learning zone. You challenged yourself and are today I would dare say better for it and proud of what you did and rightfully so! Keep it up. Come back. Hike something even tougher next time.

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By mongoliangirl, June 12, 2009 @ 6:13 am

THAT WAS AMAZING! WOW! What an excellent thing! I found myself rooting for her all the way! Excellent!

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By Summer, June 12, 2009 @ 12:12 pm

I love this! Way to go Teresa! I got chills. Thanks for sharing this. It’s crazy because I feel at home in the mountains and call them my sanity, but the city (not Salt Lake but other larger cities) on the other hand gives me anxiety attacks!

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By Gwen Jackson, June 12, 2009 @ 9:02 pm

Teresa is way more brave than I am. Good for her!

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By Garrett, June 13, 2009 @ 3:38 pm

Nice job, Theresa! I got nervous myself watching that.

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By Theresa Roach, June 15, 2009 @ 10:07 am

haha. you’re all so sweet! thanks!

erin, i’ll have to come back to utah for more crazy hiking soon. :)

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By rassles, June 17, 2009 @ 5:22 pm

Theresa, you are a big wuss.

(Kidding, of course.)

Congrats on leaping rivers in a single bound. I probably would have just walked through the damn thing. I mean, I KNOW I would have just walked through the damn thing, and then Erin would have snickered at me for being lame and anti-nimble.

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