Paulo,

I heartily agree with your sentiments. We have had a great discussion about what constitutes mental toughness, and why it is important. Would anyone like to tell a story that illustrates the point?

Here's one from about 1993, Chilkoot Pass, Alaska. There is a 34 hike one-way from Dyea to Bennet Lake, British Columbia which follows the only overland trail between Seattle and the Klondike gold fields near Dawson City, Yukon. Peaking in 1898, one could take a steamer to the dock in Dyea up and over the Coast Range to Bennet, where people built boats and floated down the Yukon River to find fortune.

It was late August and all went well for a couple of days. At Sheep Camp at the base of the Golden Stairs it began to really rain for 30 hours straight. A lady the day before was packing up in her tent when a black bear unzipped the nylon with a claw and came in without knocking at 0900. She was shaken but unhurt. The Stairs were usually crossed in snow because the boulders vary from the size of refrigerators to cars. It was the first time serious knee arthritis showed up. Over the pass thru customs with the RCMP (Royal Canadian Mounted Police), and thinking about their requirement for 98ers to bring with them 1,000 pounds of food. Starvation was common in those days. The wind was gusting to 60 knots.

We reached a small hut past the pass, well above treeline which is only about 2,300 feet at that latitude. The hut, at 3,200 feet was full of wet people and smelled like Nepal- sweat, propane, white gas, wet wool, curry and had 100 percent humidity. Three guys with snores like Popeye, drove me outside in a tent. On Aug 31 the night was very windy with horizontal sleet. I committed a mortal sin and had allowed my down bag to get soaked, the only time in my career. (If you are going to wet country bring a pack cover, even in August). I spent a fitful night afraid to go to sleep for fear of not waking up. It was cold, windy, black and miserable. At first light, about 0400, my wife and I dejectedly trudged to lower elevations back into a beautiful forest of lodgepole pine with fuel to get warm. The trail in exteme northern BC was covered with animal tracks and few human tracks- wolf, bear, moose, and caribou. We sang in a loud voice to let them know we were coming.

We dragged ourselves and our heavy soaked packs about 8 miles and found an old cabin built by Parks Canada, a log affair with an iron stove and quickly built a fire after splitting some wood. We hung up our whole outfit in the rafters to dry, and made a hot meal. We were so low on calories, we cooked a whole other meal and consumed it with great relish. Then we had about three hours of sleep in the warm cabin.

Upon awakening we were clear-headed enough to reflect on the previous 24 hours. We had been the most tired, cold, and depressed of any time spent in the outdoors. Our normal limits had been greatly exceeded. The cabin had saved us from serious trouble, and changed our morale from a 1 to a 9 1/2 in about four hours. We learned later that several people on the trail had been evacuated by boat by Parks Canada. The narrow gauge train ride on the White Pass and Yukon Railroad back to Skagway seemed like real luxury.