'Fear is good because it keeps you alive': Erik Weihenmayer

At the age of 14, Erik Weihenmayer was diagnosed with retinoschisis, a condition that would eventually rob him of his vision. Instead of a resigned acceptance of his life-changing diagnosis, Weihenmayer embarked on a personal journey to push the limits of what was considered 'achievable' by a differently abled person. Today, that resilience has led him to become the first visually-impaired man to have reached the summit of Mount Everest, the world's highest mountain above sea level (a feat that saw him on the cover of Time magazine, as it featured a detailed account of his ascent in 2001). Not just Everest, he has already completed his ascent of the Seven Summits - the highest mountain peaks in seven continents. Today, he uses that experience of climbing as a metaphor to encourage people from different backgrounds and abilities to rise above perceived limitations. In town recently to address a gathering organised by Fine Hygienic Holding, Weihenmayer spoke at length about the lessons on endurance that a gruelling physical process can teach an individual.


Growing up, what did it take to live with the knowledge that, at some point, you would lose your vision?
The doctor said that I was going to be blind and there was no cure. While I lived with that knowledge, I didn't know what it really meant until it happened. I resented it and was even in denial for some time. I always wanted to push myself, but, as a blind person, I just didn't know how to do it. My father would drive me up to this camp for blind kids, and we would do activities - canoeing, sailing, skiing. One weekend, he took us rock climbing. I thought of keeping an open mind about it. As I began climbing, I could feel my way up the rock ways, and that was exciting.
In an interview with Oprah Winfrey, you talk about how a bus driver actually inspired you to push yourself. Can you revisit that episode?
It was quite abrupt. He took a basketball and threw it at me. I was hurt and really mad at him. He was going to do it a second time when he said, "I want you to catch the ball this time." And I did. The message was to stop fighting people and pushing everyone away because they will help you. You won't catch a ball thrown at you if you keep thinking that the person doing so only wants to hurt you.
What did the preparation entail as you set out to climb Everest?
It was learning how to do things without my eyes - how to put my crampons (spiked boots) on, how to cook meals on a stove, how to set up a tent without being able to see, to feel my way up the mountain. The biggest challenge was this perception that, in the Himalayas, you're not able to think after a certain altitude because there isn't too much oxygen and hence, the brain doesn't work very well. On top of that, if you cannot see, it's not a very good idea to climb Everest. But I found that I was able to think - it was slow, but I was definitely able to do it.
How did you navigate those challenging terrains?
I practised for hundreds and thousands of hours - trekking, walking, ice climbing. I invented things along the way to understand the spaces I was going to be in. For instance, when I climbed the waterfalls that were frozen, I had tools in my hands. I would tap them on the surface and listen to the sound and feel the vibrations to the ice. What I rely on the most when I am climbing is my sense of touch - when I am feeling the rocks, crevasses, drop-offs... It just helps me make sure I am balanced.

Photo: Juidin Bernarrd
What were your deepest fears when climbing?
Sometimes, fear is good because it keeps you alive. I think my deepest fear was that if I failed, people would say that it was because I was blind. And that may not have been true, by the way. It may just have been because I may not have trained enough or wasn't skilled enough or didn't have a good team.
That moment when you stood at the summit: how would you describe the feeling?
You know the summit is like a little island in the sky; it's not very big. It's a feeling of being isolated. I mean, you have a long way down, and most accidents happen when you're coming back. So, when people tell you that, at the summit, they were thinking about world peace or solving global issues, that's just rubbish. What you are really thinking at that point is, "I am cold, I am hungry. Let's take the photos and get down because a storm may just come in."
There is also an interesting account of Sherpas. The superstition among them is that climbing the mountain will bring bad luck. And yet you met one Sherpa who told you that we make our own destinies.
Superstitions are everywhere. How often are we told that if parents do something bad, children would be punished for it? When I was in Tibet, I took six blind children to climb a 7,000-metre peak. Now, these children were seen as being unlucky. What happens is that people with disabilities fall at the bottom of the 'caste' system, because there aren't always enough resources to help them. The Sherpas tend to think that if you climb the mountain, you will bring bad luck for the rest. They also believe in karma, so they think that if one is blind, it's their karma. Fortunately, at that time, we met one Sherpa who said you make your own luck.
You've said before that your biggest fear was being forgotten. After achieving these milestones, do you feel you have conquered those fears?
In some ways, yes. But I think as you get older, you worry about drifting away, and not being able to do things you love. All our lives are about breaking away from this fear. I didn't want to sit in this prison that the world had put me in. I wanted to break out of it.
In recent years, there has been a concern about Everest being commercialised, and safety of the Sherpas being compromised. What are your thoughts?
Everyone is on fast-track these days. They want to climb Everest very fast and don't want to go through with the training. When I decided to climb Everest, I trained very hard for two years, but I had also started climbing when I was 16 years old. In some ways, it's a good thing that there are more opportunities to climb Everest. But with every opportunity, there is responsibility. I don't know if there is a god on the mountain who says 'you can pass' and 'you can't'. People have to be responsible for themselves, and that's exactly where we've gotten into trouble.
You even got married in Kilimanjaro, didn't you?
It was funny. My wife did not have a wedding dress, so we wrapped her around in a table cloth (laughs). We got married and the next day we reached the summit after a long 20-hour climbing day. I told her it was our honeymoon. Most women probably wouldn't like that.
This lust for adventure, what exactly changes when you have fulfilled it?
I don't think reaching a summit gives you any kind of insight. It's the process that gives you wisdom because that also teaches you a thing or two about breaking barriers and challenging mindsets. For me, it's more about how do you take that process of climbing a mountain and bring it back to your life. Standing on the summit is just like icing on the cake.
As someone who has pushed the boundaries of what is considered 'achievable' for the differently-abled, do you feel you also carry a weight of expectations now?
I have to keep myself internally motivated. For me, it's not about what I can or cannot do. It's about time. We do not have a lot of time on earth, whatever time we do have, we need to use it well for meaningful things. I will never run out of things to do, but I will run out of my knees.
anamika@khaleejtimes.com