Off The Grid

For 37 years, I have been so very lucky to go on an annual summer mountaineering trip with a group of my closest friends from college. We all love the outdoors, but got into rock climbing and eventually started using guides to ascend peaks throughout the Western part of the US. When we started doing this, we were young strong men, carrying heaving packs with 7-days of food, cooking gear, tents, sleeping bags, climbing equipment, and about 50 pounds of gear in total.

In those carefree times, we explored the remote wilderness of Wyoming, Alaska, California, and Montana—before we had children, took ourselves too seriously, or were tethered to mobile phones (well, there were no mobile phones when started doing this). Before any of us married, we made a pact: we would continue this tradition every year, no matter what, leaving behind work, girlfriends, and family, and truly getting off the grid.

And for the last 37 years, we took the concept of these trips as rare windows of time to fully disconnect and be in this little bubble of a self-reliant team, not know or care what was happening in the outside world. But that mindset has pretty much become impossible All of our work lives has gotten more intense; our families have changed—we had kids we worry about and some living parents who we really worry about. What do we do, if God forbid, something happened. How would we get back, how would we know.

On a trip in Colorado many years ago, I talked to my 93-year Grandma before going on the 7-day journey who assured me she was doing great, and I should “not worry and be with my friends”. After hiking 10 miles and setting up camp night one, I used our Satellite phone, to call home to check one last time before I could not return and learned that she had died. I had to get back to the trailhead alone (in a thunder storm no less), to find a way to the airport and make the funeral.

The point Is, when we went off the grid we really did. No cell phone connection, can’t keep the battery of a satellite phone on the whole time to receive incoming, we did a Garland device for a while where someone could send us a text signal if there was an emergency at home and then we could communicate with a text back if needed. Technology offered some solution for these remote places to be almost fully off the grid, but not totally.

I’m on a current mountain trip with the smallest amount of the guys this year, and able to write this substack. I’m not only NOT off the grid, but here in Italy, I’m integrated into the grid. Mountaineering in the Dolomites is very different given the mobile infrastructure in Europe. Being a 63-year old guy, I can’t carry those heavy packs from 30-years ago, we need to find a way to either have Jeff Bezos drop a gourmet dinner to me from a drone, have personal donkey carry my stuff, or as they have here, “Refugios”--little mountain huts that have a few dorm rooms, a kitchen and dining area stocked with good wine, beer, and grub. There is also WIFI or LTE service with 3 or 4 bars on every mountain top. Above 3,000 meters on Peaks, people are looking at their phones with maps giving precise guidance down the mountain. So while our mobile units are excellent for guidance and safety, they also make it impossible to fully disconnect and turn off everything.

Europe has consistently demonstrated a higher level of technological integration, particularly with the swift adoption of credit card handheld devices in restaurants—a trend that emerged over a decade before similar practices were embraced in the United States. In today's era of trekking, hiking, and mountaineering, having a fully charged mobile phone has become essential, not just for safety but also for navigating the modern wilderness. However, it takes a significant degree of self-discipline to disconnect from the demands of work and truly immerse oneself in nature. Unfortunately, this year, I found myself unable to afford that luxury, as the pressures of the outside world intruded on my outdoor experience, underscoring the ongoing struggle to maintain a balance between technology and tranquility in our lives.

While in highest parts of the Dolomites, I negotiated and DocuSigned a new lease for our Nashville location, I dealt with some challenging work operational issues in a few locations and made some signage decisions with a designer. In other days, I guess I was able to better arrange for my work team to better handle things in the office. But not this year! And not with ability to connect so easily. Let’s be clear, I was not looking at my phone like I do sometimes, mindlessly walking down the street bumping into other pedestrians on the way to a meeting. I was looking at the most amazing peaks, breathing fresh air, and watching my steps closely. But I also could take a break and drink some water, eat some gorp, and check my messages. I never left the grid. Kinda sad.

In some ways, it’s disheartening. What began as an adventure into the depths of nature has morphed into a balancing act between exploration and obligation. Perhaps the essence of my mountain treks has shifted, but amid the breathtaking vistas and exhilarating climbs, I must remind myself of what it means to reconnect—not just with the land and my friends but with the spirit of adventure that originally called me away from the grid.