Thank you. I'm sorry that it had to be written at all but seeing the misrepresentation/ exploitation of Balin and his life on top of the loss itself was too terrible to let pass. As a community we have lost much. The anniversaries in the first week of October alone are heavy; Alex, Hayden, Inge, and now Balin. We need to keep these spirits alive, and never forget how they lived and inspired.
My first thought reading this was that sometimes horrible things are best left to sit and hopefully they eventually become consonant with ourselves and the story we carry with us. We all try to eventually end up at that place, I think…
In your words about Balin, I was struck by how you seemed hopeful for a future that’s now gone. He seemed like a real gem and to be honest, as an “influencer”, he seemed to be a very authentic person and a refreshing wind in the world of climbing.
Anyways, what comes to mind is the luck of you having met him. The encounter where you described you both speaking to the crowd about your 22nd birthday and the year that ensued reminds me of a quantum physics experiment where they put the same atom in two places at the same time… impossible to observe except in very rare instances.
From your writing it seems like you got to see yourself in a quantum way where the past, present, and future were all in the moment, while you two being of a similar “atom”, shared that moment.
I hope you feel gratitude and extreme reverence for your luck, what you can currently hold tight, love, fear, etc… and keep living hard.
My thoughts go out to those who knew Balin and lost him. He seemed like a very special person and I’m sorry it hurts.
Thank for this. I've been reading Junger's book, "In My Time Of Dying' within which he describes some of Schrödinger's work in the quantum, among others, so your analogy here struck an already ringing bell. I do indeed feel fortunate to have shared the space and time with Balin, seeing flashes of my younger self in him, of course, but also simultaneously observing me seeing both "atoms", which strained the rational and also felt perfectly organic and natural. Much food for thought 🙏🏻
Thank you. Those two words, "duty" and "responsibility" were weighing heavily as I wrote. To quote an old climbing partner, "It doesn't have to be fun but it's got to be done."
And speaking of climbers who became writers ... I remember "Sans Ami".
I'm talking to all of Balin's partners trying to get his story right. There's a climbing revolution going on in AK and Balin's gang is the reason. I want to honor them and let them know we want them to live till their washed up and become writers
Mark, I know this isn’t the point of the article, but you’ve made a fan with your beautiful, honest words. I’m sorry you had to write this tribute and sorry to everyone that knew Balin. Among those that live their lives primarily online there’s a disdain for those who exist fully in the physical world. Your words are the first I’ve seen that do honor and Justice to the life that was Balin’s. Some Buddhists believe that the more suddenly a being is severed from life, the more likely it is to retain its memories and attributes into the next. Buddhists also knew that matter was primarily empty space several millennia before modern physicists confirmed the same. So, why not? Either way, I’m confident that your positive influence on Balin was more profound than you would allow yourself to imagine. Take peace in knowing that he isn’t gone, he’s just out of sight up around the next corner.
You chopped me at the knees with this observation, "Among those that live their lives primarily online there’s a disdain for those who exist fully in the physical world." This never occurred to me but suddenly many pieces fell into place. I read your note in the wake of having sat up in bed to furiously write something down so it wouldn't keep me awake all night; All of the shit-posting is done by people who think they aren’t going to die, that they are immune to death and therefore have no perspective. They armor themselves against death with their devotion to images of superficial (material) happiness. Not fully formed, and maybe even wrong but I've been asking myself how it's possible to be so vicious and keep coming up short, with no answer. Now I've a different train of thought to explore.
Continuing the Buddhist thread, well, sort of, perhaps too few on this plane (for lack of a better term) were ready for such a being so he returned to that empty space, carrying with him the knowing that, "I am the heir to my actions."
Another beautiful and worthy tribute to Ballin. And for those of us who remain in this plane, “How needing of compassion are suffering, sentient beings, right here, who are driven in through cyclic existence by delusion and confusion.” It is critical to remember that nothing about the internet came about organically. The toll that a life spent online takes on the psyche is by design. The desensitization and lack of real world experience are the point.
This essay provides a lot of punch, less boxing than karate, in all sorts of directions tied to a young man’s death.
For me, the following is what hit closest to home:
“I might tell younger Mark to, ‘take care of yourself and your body just in case you do survive this meteoric trajectory.’ That seems more relatable than, ‘don’t fly too close to the sun,’ but still clumsy. How can we foster the energy that might produce great things without giving the flame so much oxygen that it burns up itself and the things around it?” seem most important to me.”
This hits home when all around us “old guys” (who were once young, ambitious, and perhaps oblivious to what loss means to those who lose loved ones) are young guys of incredible skill dying in the mountains.
And isn’t it true that for many of these guys--so very good in body and heart, with talent and skill--in the end all of that didn’t really matter?
I worry telling young climbers I know out there climbing in the great ranges how awed I am by what they do. Because I wonder if that’s not—as you, Mark, so poignantly point out—somehow instigating something we might regret.
Is it possible that when we see these guys do amazing, just amazing, feats, that by encouraging them with praise we might lose them?
And it does feel as if that way of thinking (“Very cool, but pump the breaks.”) is actually selfish, on our part. It is their life after all.
Still, it’s hard to watch someone you love as they die from an overdose, even if accidental.
I am just restating what you’ve said, what you said so eloquently with imagery and more, but where can I find the courage to say the right words to young climbers I care about and what exactly are the right words?
Is it really just as simple as: “Amazing! Keep it up. It’s great what you’re doing. Just don’t kill yourself”?
Or is there something else to say?
A dead climber feels nothing. The rest of us maybe feel too much.
Roman, thank you for this, and for all of the inspiration (and sometimes, terror) your grand adventures provided for me back in the day.
I sure do wish we had some answers to these questions regarding the issues of admiration and restraint, of encouragement and caution but I guess what we get is conversation, and hope. Your observation that saying, "Very cool, but pump the brakes" can be a selfish statement had me asking myself why I hadn't seen that for what it is; an unconscious attempt to protect ourselves from a (future) terrible feeling of loss delivered to a young, hard-charger as wise counsel. I do know that I was deaf to this sort of advice when I was that ambitious young man. There was no way I could have accurately understood these (your) words back then, "the people we leave behind, the people who love us the most, those are the people who hurt the most."
Perhaps what we 'should' do is listen more than we talk, and when we share those stories of what we got away with when we were in the grip of the same beast that is driving them, we point out how much luck played a part, how random some events are. I mean, when I heard those stories back then I often attributed good outcomes to the protagonists being badass and capable, who drew a line then dared fate to cross it. It took some many years on the clock to recognize and admit how luck was just as much a teammate as the partner belaying me, and even more of a factor when I was out there on my own.
I will try to be more mindful in the future because our words affect, and they don't come with a volume knob.
You're an exceptional writer Mark - please keep writing about everything, I enjoy your viewpoint on things and life greatly - this is written with the spice and humanity that an alpinist like Balin deserves.
Thank you. I admit that I was quite nervous to share this writing but things had to be said, and a young man had to be honored, to be seen. And celebrated.
I mean, I was floored when I read your account of Reality Bath in your book - then just seeing, somewhat casually, Balin posting about doing it a year after I read that, I had to do a triple-take, like, who tf is this guy. Amazing stuff
Thank you Mark! This World of click bait and quick to throw “under the bus” is saddening…
Yours and Andy K’s article are exemplary articles that everyone in the climbing community should reflect upon instead of the armchair keyboard warrior mountaineers that know nothing about purity and commitment…
When I met Balin I knew I was meeting that inspired person that was like a younger Mark. Although, I never met you I knew it was inspiring.
I saw him several times in the Range this spring, every time I asked him... What's on the menu this days? And loosely thinking about what he wanted to do and thinking about it. I checked him out at the Ranger Station... After 51 days of Glacier living, a tourist next to him asked him: have you been on the mountain? Did you summit? His face was in shock and didn't know what to tell her, humble, sincere, and simple. I told the lady, I think you asked this young man the hardest question someone else did. He walked away to eat fresh food.
The morning I received the news, I texted your "tenant"... I figured you needed to know and I'm glad Blair took the lead on this.
I'm glad you met him, write about him, and recognized for what he did and was. The sadness still is present and I look forward to be guided by that start in the other side of the window...
Thank you. Your anecdote about checkout at the Talkeetna Ranger Station took me back in time to similar interactions, one involving Scott who, when asked if we'd climbed the "Big One" in 1994 replied, "No, we aren't that good yet but we're practicing. This year we climbed a smaller peak nearby called Mount Hunter." The tourist said that we sounded like sensible young men and advised us to take our time preparing for that higher summit.
And thank you for thinking of us and sending that text, a fine reminder of how small and connected this community is. Let's all keep looking for that star, now among many others, to guide and inspire.
Well written with tons of compassion. Balin's dad forwarded to me. His partners and friends need this. Thank you
Thank you. I'm sorry that it had to be written at all but seeing the misrepresentation/ exploitation of Balin and his life on top of the loss itself was too terrible to let pass. As a community we have lost much. The anniversaries in the first week of October alone are heavy; Alex, Hayden, Inge, and now Balin. We need to keep these spirits alive, and never forget how they lived and inspired.
My first thought reading this was that sometimes horrible things are best left to sit and hopefully they eventually become consonant with ourselves and the story we carry with us. We all try to eventually end up at that place, I think…
In your words about Balin, I was struck by how you seemed hopeful for a future that’s now gone. He seemed like a real gem and to be honest, as an “influencer”, he seemed to be a very authentic person and a refreshing wind in the world of climbing.
Anyways, what comes to mind is the luck of you having met him. The encounter where you described you both speaking to the crowd about your 22nd birthday and the year that ensued reminds me of a quantum physics experiment where they put the same atom in two places at the same time… impossible to observe except in very rare instances.
From your writing it seems like you got to see yourself in a quantum way where the past, present, and future were all in the moment, while you two being of a similar “atom”, shared that moment.
I hope you feel gratitude and extreme reverence for your luck, what you can currently hold tight, love, fear, etc… and keep living hard.
My thoughts go out to those who knew Balin and lost him. He seemed like a very special person and I’m sorry it hurts.
Thank for this. I've been reading Junger's book, "In My Time Of Dying' within which he describes some of Schrödinger's work in the quantum, among others, so your analogy here struck an already ringing bell. I do indeed feel fortunate to have shared the space and time with Balin, seeing flashes of my younger self in him, of course, but also simultaneously observing me seeing both "atoms", which strained the rational and also felt perfectly organic and natural. Much food for thought 🙏🏻
I just spoke with Balin's best partner. Your story means a lot right now. Writing is a duty and responsibility and you did good.
Thank you. Those two words, "duty" and "responsibility" were weighing heavily as I wrote. To quote an old climbing partner, "It doesn't have to be fun but it's got to be done."
And speaking of climbers who became writers ... I remember "Sans Ami".
I'm talking to all of Balin's partners trying to get his story right. There's a climbing revolution going on in AK and Balin's gang is the reason. I want to honor them and let them know we want them to live till their washed up and become writers
Mark, I know this isn’t the point of the article, but you’ve made a fan with your beautiful, honest words. I’m sorry you had to write this tribute and sorry to everyone that knew Balin. Among those that live their lives primarily online there’s a disdain for those who exist fully in the physical world. Your words are the first I’ve seen that do honor and Justice to the life that was Balin’s. Some Buddhists believe that the more suddenly a being is severed from life, the more likely it is to retain its memories and attributes into the next. Buddhists also knew that matter was primarily empty space several millennia before modern physicists confirmed the same. So, why not? Either way, I’m confident that your positive influence on Balin was more profound than you would allow yourself to imagine. Take peace in knowing that he isn’t gone, he’s just out of sight up around the next corner.
You chopped me at the knees with this observation, "Among those that live their lives primarily online there’s a disdain for those who exist fully in the physical world." This never occurred to me but suddenly many pieces fell into place. I read your note in the wake of having sat up in bed to furiously write something down so it wouldn't keep me awake all night; All of the shit-posting is done by people who think they aren’t going to die, that they are immune to death and therefore have no perspective. They armor themselves against death with their devotion to images of superficial (material) happiness. Not fully formed, and maybe even wrong but I've been asking myself how it's possible to be so vicious and keep coming up short, with no answer. Now I've a different train of thought to explore.
Continuing the Buddhist thread, well, sort of, perhaps too few on this plane (for lack of a better term) were ready for such a being so he returned to that empty space, carrying with him the knowing that, "I am the heir to my actions."
Another beautiful and worthy tribute to Ballin. And for those of us who remain in this plane, “How needing of compassion are suffering, sentient beings, right here, who are driven in through cyclic existence by delusion and confusion.” It is critical to remember that nothing about the internet came about organically. The toll that a life spent online takes on the psyche is by design. The desensitization and lack of real world experience are the point.
I’m not sure how exactly to articulate it, but that was beautifully written. I hope that his parents somehow find, and read, that.
They read it and like Balin are Mark's fans.
This essay provides a lot of punch, less boxing than karate, in all sorts of directions tied to a young man’s death.
For me, the following is what hit closest to home:
“I might tell younger Mark to, ‘take care of yourself and your body just in case you do survive this meteoric trajectory.’ That seems more relatable than, ‘don’t fly too close to the sun,’ but still clumsy. How can we foster the energy that might produce great things without giving the flame so much oxygen that it burns up itself and the things around it?” seem most important to me.”
This hits home when all around us “old guys” (who were once young, ambitious, and perhaps oblivious to what loss means to those who lose loved ones) are young guys of incredible skill dying in the mountains.
And isn’t it true that for many of these guys--so very good in body and heart, with talent and skill--in the end all of that didn’t really matter?
I worry telling young climbers I know out there climbing in the great ranges how awed I am by what they do. Because I wonder if that’s not—as you, Mark, so poignantly point out—somehow instigating something we might regret.
Is it possible that when we see these guys do amazing, just amazing, feats, that by encouraging them with praise we might lose them?
And it does feel as if that way of thinking (“Very cool, but pump the breaks.”) is actually selfish, on our part. It is their life after all.
Still, it’s hard to watch someone you love as they die from an overdose, even if accidental.
I am just restating what you’ve said, what you said so eloquently with imagery and more, but where can I find the courage to say the right words to young climbers I care about and what exactly are the right words?
Is it really just as simple as: “Amazing! Keep it up. It’s great what you’re doing. Just don’t kill yourself”?
Or is there something else to say?
A dead climber feels nothing. The rest of us maybe feel too much.
Roman, thank you for this, and for all of the inspiration (and sometimes, terror) your grand adventures provided for me back in the day.
I sure do wish we had some answers to these questions regarding the issues of admiration and restraint, of encouragement and caution but I guess what we get is conversation, and hope. Your observation that saying, "Very cool, but pump the brakes" can be a selfish statement had me asking myself why I hadn't seen that for what it is; an unconscious attempt to protect ourselves from a (future) terrible feeling of loss delivered to a young, hard-charger as wise counsel. I do know that I was deaf to this sort of advice when I was that ambitious young man. There was no way I could have accurately understood these (your) words back then, "the people we leave behind, the people who love us the most, those are the people who hurt the most."
Perhaps what we 'should' do is listen more than we talk, and when we share those stories of what we got away with when we were in the grip of the same beast that is driving them, we point out how much luck played a part, how random some events are. I mean, when I heard those stories back then I often attributed good outcomes to the protagonists being badass and capable, who drew a line then dared fate to cross it. It took some many years on the clock to recognize and admit how luck was just as much a teammate as the partner belaying me, and even more of a factor when I was out there on my own.
I will try to be more mindful in the future because our words affect, and they don't come with a volume knob.
You're an exceptional writer Mark - please keep writing about everything, I enjoy your viewpoint on things and life greatly - this is written with the spice and humanity that an alpinist like Balin deserves.
Thank you. I admit that I was quite nervous to share this writing but things had to be said, and a young man had to be honored, to be seen. And celebrated.
I mean, I was floored when I read your account of Reality Bath in your book - then just seeing, somewhat casually, Balin posting about doing it a year after I read that, I had to do a triple-take, like, who tf is this guy. Amazing stuff
Thank you Mark! This World of click bait and quick to throw “under the bus” is saddening…
Yours and Andy K’s article are exemplary articles that everyone in the climbing community should reflect upon instead of the armchair keyboard warrior mountaineers that know nothing about purity and commitment…
All the best! Sorry for your loss, our loss…
Sylvain
When I met Balin I knew I was meeting that inspired person that was like a younger Mark. Although, I never met you I knew it was inspiring.
I saw him several times in the Range this spring, every time I asked him... What's on the menu this days? And loosely thinking about what he wanted to do and thinking about it. I checked him out at the Ranger Station... After 51 days of Glacier living, a tourist next to him asked him: have you been on the mountain? Did you summit? His face was in shock and didn't know what to tell her, humble, sincere, and simple. I told the lady, I think you asked this young man the hardest question someone else did. He walked away to eat fresh food.
The morning I received the news, I texted your "tenant"... I figured you needed to know and I'm glad Blair took the lead on this.
I'm glad you met him, write about him, and recognized for what he did and was. The sadness still is present and I look forward to be guided by that start in the other side of the window...
Thank you. Your anecdote about checkout at the Talkeetna Ranger Station took me back in time to similar interactions, one involving Scott who, when asked if we'd climbed the "Big One" in 1994 replied, "No, we aren't that good yet but we're practicing. This year we climbed a smaller peak nearby called Mount Hunter." The tourist said that we sounded like sensible young men and advised us to take our time preparing for that higher summit.
And thank you for thinking of us and sending that text, a fine reminder of how small and connected this community is. Let's all keep looking for that star, now among many others, to guide and inspire.