Prelude
Before I get into this adventure, I’d like to give the reader some background info. If you just want to hear about the Linville Story, skip down to “Chapter Two: Adventure Time”. I apologize for how long this blog post gets. The subsequent ones are much shorter, I promise lol. In August 2017, I transferred to the University of Georgia. In this time, I became a math major, tried to expand my horizons, by joining new school clubs and what not. In short, I felt I should spend my time seeking out new experiences, something that I felt embarrassed or scared to do most of my life.
I’m not quite sure why I felt that way when I was younger. My mother had always pushed me to get into sports, music, and other activities, but I hated not knowing what I was doing. I wanted the mastery of the skill without putting in the effort and perhaps, I let my life be dictated by the Western philosophy that “A genius is born and not made.”
This idea is prevalent in Mathematics especially, where US students continue to lag behind peers in East Asia and Europe, based on exam results. Now, without getting too deep into my personal philosophy on examination, I will say that the majority of the people I met claim that they hate Mathematics. My younger self included. So why did I study Mathematics? It was a challenge to myself. I was quite lost at the end of high school. My parents always wanted me to be a doctor and I enjoyed Biology, so I thought maybe I’d pursue that route. At the same time, I didn’t want to be locked into any profession. And I didn’t want to become a researcher. So I thought, I’ll do Biomedical Engineering. Again, I didn’t really think this through, as someone who didn’t like Math. I spent countless summers being tutored just to pull average grades in IB Standard Math. Oh well. My grandfather always called me Doctor Mohandes (Mohandes means Engineer in Farsi) Nikou Zarrabi Kashani. I didn’t have a clear objective other than to make my family proud. I started my studies at Kennesaw State University, in Mechanical Engineering, after not getting into any other of my programs. Georgia Tech offered the program I wanted so that was my goal, to work hard and transfer eventually.
Unfortunately, that’s easier said than done. My first semester, I had health issues and had small procedures done every two weeks and Calculus I kicked my ass. I failed and appealed for medical withdrawal but to no avail. I didn’t want to lose the rest of my progress from the semester so I took the F and retook the class next semester. I was stuck with the same teacher, who gave the most assignments and tasks I’ve ever had in my entire life. I’m not exaggerating when I say this, we had 10 pop quizzes, a worksheet every day of class, 2 different textbooks with both online and written homework, 3 tests and 3 portfolios where we had to correct EVERY mistake we ever made on our assignments. To this day, I’ve still never worked this hard. It felt crappy at the time but I finally believed in the Eastern philosophy. You can be a genius of hard work. I took calc II, calc III and differential equations for engineers and it all felt easy. And you know what? I finally got Math. And I finally enjoyed it. When it came time to transfer, my grades were good enough to overcome that first semester failure. I decided to do Math at UGA and for once in my life, I actually felt capable.
I thought about other things I hated after that. Running, social clubs, etc.. I joined them. I thought, what do I have to lose? Maybe I was wrong about those things like I was with Math. I met a good buddy of mine who got me into bouldering. I was afraid of heights but the social aspect of bouldering got me through it. However, I didn’t care for it as much as my newfound love for running. I pushed myself more and more, signed up for the AthHalf in Athens, GA. I just barely crossed the finish line after 3 months of training. I signed up for another one immediately when I got home, even when I was hurting. The Thanksgiving Half Marathon took place about a month later. It gave me a chance to do the Half Marathon that my best friend Jack always talked about. He’d do it with his dad and I’d just stare in awe. “Couldn’t be me”
Then came another obstacle in my life. I started dealing with really bad inflammation. For 6 months I went from being in the best shape of my life, to feeling like a grandpa when I’d walk. My knees would ache, my jaw was so inflamed I could hardly even eat. The brain fog made my classes even harder to deal with and I thought, maybe I was wrong to have hope. I just felt really depressed. Until…
Chapter One
After the flare up, I returned to climbing and decided to give it a more serious try. I had given up running so I had nothing else preventing me from being serious with it. I climbed at Active in Athens and I eventually took some family and friends to Stone Summit Atlanta.
One day, I met this guy named Wally at Active, while I was bouldering. Originally, I just asked if he was getting back on the wall, trying to see if it was my turn yet. He’s never met a stranger, so he started chatting me up. At first, his disheveled appearance made me feel a little bit uneasy. I wasn’t quite sure whether or not to be wary of this person, what his circumstances were or anything like that. Really, I wondered if this homeless looking person should really be spending money on a gym pass and maybe not something more essential. But we began talking about Math and he started talking to me about how he hates when people claim they never use Math in their life. I dropped my guard a little bit as I saw he was educated. So we talked some and he asked me if I’d ever been outside. Meanwhile, I had recently seen some climbing movies, such as Valley Uprising (A Must-Watch btw). So, I took him up on his offer. But not until a couple months passed. So we climbed in North Georgia, on an East facing wall, in the middle of the day, end of summer. I definitely felt the rubber of my shoes burning my toes but I enjoyed being outside. Nice views, freedom, and good fun. I get to know Wally a little bit better. But now the story truly starts, when Wally asks if I want to do multipitch climbing in North Carolina.
Sounds like a thing. We’ll be in Linville Gorge, NC. Let me know when you can be there. The hike sounds like a bear. And the easiest route is 5.5, three or four pitch. 500 ft trad follow.
What the hell is a bear of a hike? And didn’t I just get outside for the first time in my life like.. 2 weeks ago? Young Nikou, I have a bad feeling about this…
Chapter Two: Adventure Time
So apparently the guys are meeting up at Wendy’s in Morganton, NC. Well.. I just asked Wally if he has extra room in his tent and he says: “We’re car camping”. Hmm.. What is car camping? I didn’t even know that was an option. Alright, let me get the car somewhat comfortable so I can sleep out of it. This little maneuver’s gonna cost us 51 years… I’m packing up and leave the house at 6pm and google the first thing I find for Linville Gorge camping. I try to reach Wally but I just can’t get service. Once I reach the RV (paid) campgrounds, I managed to get service but it turns out that the guys aren’t there and the campgrounds are booked and have been for the last 2 months. It’s 11pm and I know I have to get up early. I try to tell the guy that I’m fine to camp wherever. Eventually, I tell him I’ll pay $15 to sleep in the back of my car in the parking lot and will leave when they open up in the morning. So he takes my money and leaves me be. The next morning, I google the first thing for Linville Gorge. Wrong. I get to this lookout (Linville Gorge Wilderness Area). I barely see a trail off the side of the mountain. Maybe that’s what Wally means by “A Bear of a Hike”. I wait for some time until I eventually realize that I must be in the wrong place. I search for signal and download the North Carolina information on Mountain Project. I find out I have to drive to Table Rock parking lot, 40 minutes away. I get there and the lot is practically full. Ok, that seems a little better.
I have probably 3 pieces of info from Wally, before the radio silence. Linville Gorge, Amphitheater and the Daddy. So I ask a hiker there, where the amphitheater is. Apparently, hikers don’t look for the amphitheater, because they aren’t climbers. Great. But he eventually lets on that he’s going to the Chimneys. Ah! The instructions on Mountain Project (MP) mention this. Off we go. After a good bit of searching, I finally find the amphitheater. It was a good little hike getting there. I yell: “WALLY!!!”. Some group says: “Wally?” So I get up on a boulder and ask if they know where The Daddy (climb) is. Ok, apparently it’s a little further in. Off I go. Then I run into this couple, who I also ask where The Daddy is. They tell me I’m actually not far from it, but at the top of the rock. Oh no. Even I, with my lack of experience, know that this is not good, as my team is probably anywhere between the top and bottom. I explain my situation. We introduce ourselves. Steven and Kathryn tell me that there is a way down to the Daddy, which involves rappelling off a fixed line that someone added recently. I tell them I don’t know how to rappel. Steven looks at Kathryn and asks if she wants to teach how to rappel. She agrees and they turn back around. I follow them, feeling a little bit relieved that I’m with someone who knows what they’re doing. I rappel down after receiving their instructions. We all get down and I eventually say: I’ve been looking for my team for the last 24hrs with no avail. I don’t even know that I care to actually find them. Steven responds by saying: Well, three isn’t much different from two. I quickly learned that he was being nice, as there was a little bit more work involved for him, but he lead up the pitch and we all climbed our way to the top. As we walk back, the sun comes out and starts beaming hard on top of us. I realize I’m out of water and more tired than I expected to be. Eventually, I slow down, bug spray and sweat filling my eyes as they begin to sting. They look concerned and give me water. “Here, take as much as you need and take your time”. Or something to that effect. I hand the water back after hydrating and once I give him confirmation that I’m ok to carry on, we move forward. They ask me if I’m planning on staying another night. I tell them I’m out of supplies and had only planned to climb for the day. So they tell me, “Well, regardless we have plenty of food, if you’d like a sandwich for the way back. Their kindness just doesn’t stop. In Persian culture, if you receive a container of food, you usually return it to the person with another dish. It’s hard for me to accept a gift, which is truly what I considered that day that I spent with them. So I just ponder until we make it back to the parking lot. Maybe we exchange a couple more words here and there. This part I remember the least because I was more focused on how I felt after such a huge experience.
Finally, we get back to the parking lot. I tell them I’d like to change clothes and clean up a little before hanging out with them. After going to my car and changing my clothes, I see a little silhouette through some bushes on top of the hill. I look up and at first, I see someone I don’t recognize. They’re a little bit loud and I remember feeling somewhat judgmental towards their group. As I prepare to walk back, I see Wally across from these guys, sat down in a chair while eating food. I yell out to him and he says: “Nikou, man. Where you been??”. Where have I been? Where have y’all been this whole time?! After some exchanges across the bush, I walk up to their camp site and explain my story. Apparently, Wally had a struggle of his own that day, leaving his climbing shoes behind at the rack rock. So we both shared this look of exhaustion on our face, as I explained my story to the group. The North Carolina climbers are praising me for even being able to find the location on my own. Wally’s expression changed. His weary eyes grew a little bigger and he cracked a smile as he said, I have a nickname for you: “Pathfinder”. You managed to find your own rope team and that’s a big deal. I don’t know that it was enough to make up for that feeling I had, that I had been stranded. Maybe I was just tired and didn’t have it in me to get upset. Everyone apologized profusely and invited me to eat with them, offered supplies for me to stay another day and climb with them. I was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sleep at home. Plus, my first trip out had my parents a little bit worried. I felt like I had the duty to return home. I took some food from the guys and told them I had to say bye to my new friends.
I went to see Steven and Kathryn. I told them thank you for everything, I don’t need anything more after all you’ve done and well.. I ran into my rope team finally. They offered some food so I’ll be alright to make it home. It’s the least they could do after ditching me, after all. They laughed and I asked if we could exchange numbers. They gave me their blog info and phone numbers. I asked if they’ve ever met someone on a trip and met up with them later on. They said that occasionally it works out that way. And I went on my own way.