Thrill to feel

Are extreme sport athletes reckless, or just in pursuit of something greater?

Ryan Leaming poses next to his skiing gear on top of Herman Saddle, a backcountry skiing trail located in the Mount Baker Backcountry, on May 15, 2021 // Photo by Bella Bedard

Written by Aryonna Willoughby

Being relatively new to backcountry skiing, Ryan Leaming struggled with the physicality of the sport and keeping up with his more-experienced peers as they embarked toward Stoneman Couloir, atop Mount Hermann. It didn’t seem to matter that Leaming spent most of his time being active outdoors — hiking trails, running cross country or rafting down rivers. Making the three-mile trek from the Mount Baker Ski Area to the mountainous gulch was exhausting work that required occasional breaks, or at the very least, a slower pace. Unfortunately, time wasn’t on Leaming’s side.

Once Leaming and his friends finally made it to the descent of the steep gully, the sun had been hitting the snow for longer than ideal or safe.

As soon as the group jumped down the snowy chute, the danger of the situation became clear. The snowpack, which looked impenetrable from the bottom of the mountain, loosened, and the surface of the snow rippled across the entire couloir. Sheets of snow raced by the skiers.

The snow only broke six inches deep, but the miniature avalanche was enough to spook the skiers. Thankful that the events hadn’t turned out worse, the group took great caution as they slowly made it to the bottom.

That moment was the first eye-opening experience that made Leaming realize how dangerous backcountry skiing can be. But instead of letting his fear deter him, he started using it as a tool to help pursue his passion even further.

The mountains and Leaming have never been strangers to each other. As early as an infant and way before he could ski, Leaming could be found on the slopes, secured in his father’s backpack. This lifelong exposure is what cemented Leaming’s passion for the outdoors.

Now, as a 22-year-old senior at Western Washington University, Leaming is a bit of an outdoor guru. He works at the school’s Outdoor Center as a trip leader, and off-campus he’s a whitewater rafting guide and ski instructor. While he has been involved with skiing his whole life, his hometown of Spokane didn’t provide many opportunities to acquaint himself with backcountry skiing, a slightly different animal. However, once he moved to Bellingham for college, Leaming was introduced to the sport and has grown to love it.

Instead of skiing within the boundaries of a ski resort, backcountry skiing is done in unpatrolled or unmarked areas. Backcountry skiers don’t use a ski lift to get to the top of a slope. Rather, they hike uphill using special bindings and climbing skins on their skis that keep them from slipping backwards. Because backcountry skiing takes place in uncontrolled environments, the risk of danger, especially from avalanches, can be high.

Despite these dangers, Leaming finds backcountry skiing and other outdoor sports to be “incredibly therapeutic.” Participating in outdoor sports helps him feel refreshed, and is also just fun. Fear is a present emotion, but Leaming thinks it’s a good thing. It keeps people a bit safer.

“I don’t think that anybody isn’t at least a little bit afraid of doing stuff like that. And that’s kind of been cool to realize,” Leaming said. “It’s not weird to be scared of doing things.”

Leaming’s insights mirror what scholars have discovered about extreme sports participants and their relationship with fear.

“In extreme sports, the general assumption is that participants must have either an unhealthy relationship to fear or they must be pathologically fearless,” Eric Brymer and Robert Schweitzer wrote in a 2012 article published in the Journal of Health Psychology. However, “extreme sport participants perceive the experience of fear as an essential element to their survival. Fear is spoken about as if it is a healthy, productive experience.”

Participation in extreme sports can also trigger many positive psychological benefits, researcher Carla Willig reported in a 2008 article published in the same journal.

“Participants talked about how extreme sports activities helped them to ‘ground’ themselves, to ‘get rid of negative energy’ or to ‘lift’ themselves to another level. They also felt that taking part in extreme sports had increased their levels of self-esteem and self-confidence,” Willig wrote.

Leaming’s philosophy about his participation in extreme sports is short but simple.

“I think adding a little bit of risk makes life exciting and worth living,” he said.

Risk doesn’t equate to recklessness, though.

Before setting off on any outdoor trip, Leaming always makes sure to conduct plenty of research. Perhaps even an excessive amount, he admitted. Knowing the terrain is what gives Leaming the confidence to embark on his adventures. Obsessively reviewing weather reports, avalanche forecasts and trip reports from previous travelers helps put his mind at ease.

When Leaming attended a wilderness first responder course, he noticed most of the videos he saw featured mountain bikers. “People just destroying themselves,” he noted.

“I wouldn’t necessarily draw a hard line there, but [mountain biking] is definitely something that intimidates me quite a bit,” Leaming said. “That scares me.”

But one person’s fear is another’s thrill.

Switching gears

Enter Hudson Soelter and Clara Copley, a pair of mountain biking enthusiasts and friends.

Clara Copley cruises down Cheech & Chong’s Wild Ride trail during a Whatcom World Cup race on June 1, 2022. The annual community racing event is hosted by The Whatcom Mountain Bike Coalition (WMBC) and Pacific Multisports once a week from May to August. The next race is scheduled for Wednesday, August 17. Registration is limited to WMBC members; more information about the event and becoming a WMBC member can be found here // Photo taken by Anthony James Lathrop via White Rectangle Photography.

Soelter, a 22-year-old senior at Western, has practically built his entire life around mountain biking. He’s from Port Angeles, and is studying composite engineering with the goal of designing his own bike frame someday. When he can find the time, Soelter hits the trails, predominantly cruising through the woods of Galbraith Mountain, a premiere mountain biking destination just southeast of Bellingham.

Soelter has been dabbling with mountain biking since high school, but he didn’t become seriously involved with it until college. Bellingham’s abundant offering of trails and the prevalence of the mountain biking community were the perfect motivators to pique his interest.

Mountain biking fills a special niche for Soelter that other outdoor activities don’t come close to.

“I like hiking … but I’ve always struggled with the pace of it. It’s not as action-packed as I’d like it to be,” Soelter said. “Mountain biking is a really good happy medium — I still get to go out in the woods and see beautiful waterfalls or go to really high points and look over the city of Bellingham, but it’s a lot more fast-paced.”

The physical challenge and pacing of mountain biking are important for Soelter; he sees it almost as a form of meditation.

“I’ve been diagnosed with ADHD, and when I was first starting to mountain bike, it was the only time I felt like my brain went quiet,” Soelter explained.

Since biking so frequently, those meditative moments have subsided, but they haven’t completely left.

“The better I’ve gotten, the less I feel that, because my mind is able to settle into it a little more. I get a little less of an adrenaline rush when things are casual,” Soelter said. “But I do feel that every once in a while when I try to push a new feature or if I’m hitting a really big jump.”

That pursuit doesn’t come without risks. Soelter has broken his collarbone twice while mountain biking. In both instances, he flew off his bike after hitting a jump wrong.

Nevertheless, these accidents never caused Soelter to question or doubt his commitment to the sport. In fact, it was the recovery time that he found most difficult to deal with.

“It’s just hard to sit and not be active for that long,” he said.

For Soelter, maintaining safety boils down to being aware of his own abilities.

Hudson Soelter assesses the trail ahead of him during a quick evening of riding around the Galbraith Mountain area on July 20, 2022 // Photo by Aryonna Willoughby

“I think there’s a very fine line … of pushing but knowing when to stop pushing,” Soelter said. “The number of times I’ve gone out riding and returned home totally fine far outweighs the times I’ve gotten hurt.”

Soelter’s friend, Copley, a 21-year-old Western senior studying environmental policy, has been consistently mountain biking for about two years.

Copley hails from Breckenridge, Colorado, a small ski town at the base of the Rocky Mountains and just under two hours west of Denver. She grew up participating in outdoor sports like alpine and backcountry skiing. She didn’t start mountain biking until she came to Bellingham.

Copley’s relationship with mountain biking wasn’t the love at first sight type. Growing up skiing, she was accustomed to falling on snow, not dirt and rocks. She recalled being terrified and not having much fun at first.

“It was intimidating to enter a town … where so many people [are] so good at biking,” Copley explained. “It’s a very male-dominated sport, and getting into it as a woman with little to no experience was difficult.”

Eventually, Copley was able to foster her own community, finding others who were at her same level or willing to be patient with her. That’s when her relationship with the sport really started to blossom.

Now, Copley goes mountain biking between three to five times a week, sometimes with friends and other times alone. She’s aware of the risks and always tries to look out for herself by bringing her phone and taking note of landmarks and checkpoint locations. She refers to these precautions as forming an “escape route.”

Wearing protective gear like a helmet, googles, gloves and, occasionally, knee pads is another way Copley prioritizes her safety. Having a bike that properly fits and makes her feel comfortable is a large aspect, as well. However, she recognizes that the associated costs can add up quickly.

“You reach a certain point where you might be able to do it, but the equipment you’re on can’t,” Copley said. “And I think that’s a big barrier in mountain biking and all outdoor sports, because to get the gear and to get the equipment that will keep you safe and be able to allow you to go beyond your limit is expensive.”

Being one of the leaders of Backcountry Squatters, a Western club aimed towards increasing accessibility and inclusion in outdoor spaces for women and nonbinary folks, Copley is committed to making sure mountain biking is as inclusive as possible.

She never wants someone to feel as isolated as she did when she first started.

“Earth is something we all share and we should all feel welcome to be a part of it,” Copley said.

Fear factors

Fear is a complex emotion. In moderate amounts, it can serve as a tool to guide people in their decision-making skills, but if left unchecked, it has the power to consume peoples’ minds. Copley categorizes fear into a binary system: the healthy kind and the unhealthy kind.

“The fear [you get when] you are scared but you know you can do it or you have the skill set [to do something] is different than the fear [you get when] you aren’t sure that you can do it, but feel like you’re going to try anyway,” she said.

When Copley first started mountain biking, she had a hard time differentiating between the two. She would push herself to keep up with her more experienced peers, even to the detriment of her own well-being.

“I’ve taken some pretty hard crashes and bumps and bruises along the way,” Copley said. “But I have developed a more healthy relationship with fear.”

Despite any setbacks or injuries she has sustained, Copley’s love for mountain biking is immense.

“I haven’t felt so much fulfillment from outdoor sports than I do with [mountain] biking … it’s one of the best sports.”

Out in the woods, a bus full of eager adventurers finally rolls up to their destination. The group excitedly piles out of the cramped vehicle and are met by their trip leader, Leaming.

“Alright!” Leaming shouts. “You’ve successfully made it through the most dangerous part of the trip!”

Cracked smiles meet his words.