What Self-Reliance Means for Teamwork
…especially on Mount Shasta.
People frequently ask me if I played soccer or ice hockey as a kid. They also ask if I have worked at Ericsson. I do understand why and I muse about the stereoptyping. I don’t mind at all. It makes for a great conversation starter. You see, I grew up in Sweden, the home of team sports and Ericsson. The answer to these questions is “NO”. What a shocker!
As a kid, I was very independent-minded, which made it hard for me to conform to rules or to play a defined position. I felt it was restricting. Instead of team sports, I gravitated to activities where I alone was in control of the outcome. I turned to skateboarding, surfing and snowboarding. They are all board board sports, attracting a motley crew of outcasts, the kids who did not fit the mold, the misunderstood and the unruly. I am still friends with most of these kids today, at least the ones still alive. Some went on to have successful careers or becoming business men, great entrepreneurs or artists. Others became alcoholics and a few died from drug overdose.
The friendships remain and are as strong today as they were then. We bonded over our shared passion and our mission to disrupt stereotypes. The bond remains, the passion is still there and the mission remains equally relevant today.
It may seem like a lack of teamworking experience at a young age can be a hindrance later in life and, especially in your professional career. However, what drove me to individual sports, is today my strongest contribution to teamwork — self-reliance. Contradiction, you say. Counter-intuitive for sure. But, hear me out. I will tell you the story about Mount Shasta.
Mount Shasta is a prominent volcano in northern California, 14,177 feet (4,322 m) high. My daughter, Ellie, and I have conquered a few iconic peaks, like Half Dome and Mount Whitney. In looking at what would be next, Mount Shasta seemed like a challenge worthy of our attention.
We have a deal at home. I can take the kids on little adventures provided I know what it will require to succeed. Consequently, I solo each mountain before taking anyone else with me. I like everything about mountaineering. The research, planning, preparations, logistics and execution. I like the exposure of the expedition itself, especially since it is so dramatically different than the office environment. And, I like the solo experience. Succeed or fail, it is on me alone.
Anyway, early May I headed up to Mount Shasta and parked at the Bunny Flat trailhead at 7,000 feet around 11 am. From there, I made my way up to Helen Lake, at 10,000 feet (3,000 m), where I set up base camp around 5:30 pm. There were 4 other tents there as well. After making some food and repacking for the summit attempt, I struck up a conversation with my fellow adventurers, about eight of them. We were an international crowd. South Korea, Turkey, Germany and Sweden. We were joined by our love for the outdoors and life in Silicon Valley. We agreed to start off together at 4 am the next morning. We also agreed that we were only bound by the arrangements we had prior to meeting. In my case, it meant I was going solo and therefore accept being left behind if I could not keep up or felt that I could not continue for any reason. In other words: I was responsible for me, period.
After breakfast, we put on crampons, helmets, headlamps and backpacks. With ice axe in hand, we began the push up the main face of the Avalanche Gulch route on Mount Shasta. It was 4 am. Very soon, the initial group naturally sub-divided into 3 smaller teams. I paired up with Aydin, who was in the lead, since we were moving at the same pace and got along quite well. A natural collaboration emerged. He was the lead and I was the sounding board, helping strategize about route. It was dark and there is no trail, just a massive snow and ice covered face with an intimidating steepness. You know the general direction (up!) but have to make incremental assessments and decisions.
After 3 hours, we reached our first milestone, which is a ridge above an area of vertical rock, called the Red Banks. Along the way, we had passed another group that was somewhat dispersed. It was now 7 am, the sun was coming up, the wind was picking up and it was cold. We stopped to adjust clothing, eat and drink. Two people from the other group caught up with us. We were busy tending to ourselves but feeling that something was wrong, Looking over to my right, I could see another person struggling to maintain traction on the ice. One of her crampons was no longer attached to her boot, instead dangling on the side. Her partner did not seem to know how to manage the situation. It seemed, he had enough just dealing with himself.
So, here we were, four people with shared passion for the outdoors and shared mission of reaching the summit. I decided to help and asked her to scramble over to me. I handed my gloves to Aydin and began triaging her crampon. I hoped it was just a case of bad attachment to her boot, but it was worse. The crampon was missing a part, making it impossible to fit it to the size of her boot. Using the crampon straps, I was able to fashion a makeshift solution that, hopefully would keep the crampon attached going forward. We talked about the seriousness of the situation and the decision she would have to make — turn around or push forward. Neither she, nor her partner, seemed to be all that experienced. We were hoping she would return down.
Up there, on that ridge, we came together, formed a team, solved a problem, devised a solution and executed. Where one team member struggled, another stepped in to help. This is key to teamwork. You play your position until you cannot. You play your position until you have to do more. Being self-reliant puts you in a position to add value to others. This is not just true on Mount Shasta, it applies in the office too.
And, yes. We all made the summit!
