My Big Wall

It was June and I was in Yosemite National Park in California, 2,000-feet off the ground. I was climbing El Capitan, a majestic 3,000-foot high, mile-wide granite monolith--one of the most sought after and spectacular rock climbs in the world. After three days of climbing on its sheer face, and having completed the most difficult part of the route, my partner and I were heading down. A thunderstorm lasting all night and into the morning had soaked our tiny perch and all our worldly possessions. We began rappelling down the vertical wall by sliding to the ends of two 50meter ropes tied together and looped through a set of fixed rings bolted into the rock. At the end of the ropes was another rappel station consisting of a set of rings, placed by previous climbers for retreating parties, which we used to anchor ourselves to the rock face. We then pulled the ropes down from the rings above, threaded the ones in front of our noses and started down another rope length. Everything we brought up for our five-day climb to the summit we had to bring back down with us: ropes, climbing gear of every sort, sleeping bags, extra clothes, food, water, and other essentials. All this we either stuffed into a haul bag (an oversized reinforced duffel bag) or slung over our shoulders. The retreat was slow and methodical, akin to a train backing down a mountain, giving me ample time to think. My situation made me think about my work, mostly, about all the projects I have managed, or been involved in managing. As a NASA project manager, I have worked on a number of successful projects. I have also been involved in a number of projects I never saw the end of. I thought about all the projects I transferred off of for other opportunities, projects that were in full stride and ran out of funding, and ones put on the shelf because they would not meet a flight date. Oh yes, I have had many success, to be sure, or I would have burned out years ago. Lessons from both the successful and not-so-successful projects have taught me valuable lessons, but it has always been the failures where I've learned the most.