Last night I had the opportunity to meet one of the most accomplished mountain and river expedition leaders in the world. Pasquale Scaturro, a geophysicist, adventurer and expedition leader, has been exploring the far reaches of the planet for over 25 years.

Scaturro is best known for his recent IMAX film, Mystery of the Nile, which documented the first complete descent of the 3,260-mile Blue Nile and Nile River--from its source high in the mountains of Ethiopia to the Nile delta spilling into the Mediterranean Sea.

Scaturro’s three successful climbs of Mount Everest were not a part of the presentation, but I feel compelled to include them because he was the expedition leader for the National Federation of the Blind 2001 Everest Expedition, which made history when it put the first blind climber on the 29,035-foot summit of Mount Everest.

Scaturro’s presentation at REI was for a small audience, and the intimate setting offered an exciting element to the breathtaking slideshow. His pictures were coupled with personal stories of the river setting, rapids and geography, as well as the cultures of the people that live along the shores of wild rivers in South America and Africa, including the Bio Bio in Chile, and the Omo, Zambezi and Tekeze in Africa.

Scaturro included discussion of the drastic environmental and development changes that have taken place since his first visit to remote areas of northeastern Africa 11 years ago. As a river expedition leader, the construction of dams along the great rivers of the world concerns him the most. As one of the most knowledgeable people in the world on the subject, it is his belief that there will no longer be raft-able rivers because of the impending environmental pressures from energy companies looking to produce hydroelectric power.

I’m thrilled to have had the opportunity to speak with someone who not only shares a love for adventure and exploration, but has been at the forefront of some of the greatest expeditions of our time. To me, he is a role model with a proven commitment to dreaming big and overcoming insurmountable obstacles. After the show, I purchased my own copy of the Mystery of the Nile from Scaturro to watch when I’m confined to the couch on Saturday following the Noble Canyon 50K.

Tuesday night my relay team did a training swim sans wetsuit to simulate Sunday morning’s La Jolla 10-mile Relay Swim. It was approximately 62 F in the water as the sun was setting. For all of you cold-weather freaks who consider me a wuss for thinking it was cold out therethat doesn’t faze meit was freezing! I lost sensation in my fingertips during the swim and it took close to a half-hour afterwards to come back. The water temperature has gone up since, so last night was more bearable during the SportsQuest Direct Aquathon with the Triathlon Club of San Diego. The 1,000-meter swim took me 15 minutes and I felt unorganized and rushed. My form was off for the entire swim and I never settled into a groove. This will be different on Sunday, when the swimmers are more spread out. I’m looking forward to that.

Anyhow, my transition to the run went quickly and I was into my 5K run in a minute’s time. The run along the beach to Scripps Pier and back, twice, went well. There were piles of washed up kelp to hurdle along the way and confused-looking beach goers to dodge. I liked the out-and-back format of the run because I got to see how fast some of the other club members are. My 5K took me 21 minutes, which is a solid pace, and I felt good about it. But when I saw some of these guys and ladies blow by me in a sprint, during both laps, I was really impressed--and motivated.

Photo Courtesy of TCSD

I’ve been working on my race schedule for 2008 for the last week, and with the help of our Active Expert Gale Bernhardt, I’ve decided on the schedule below. My main events for the year will be the Vineman Ironman in July and the San Diego 100-mile Trail Run in October. The races in between are still open to debate, but this is my first draft for the time being. What do you think? A little too ambitious? I’m feeling good about it. 2008 will be a big year, but I feel like it all becomes relative along the way, right?

I woke at 3:30 a.m. to the beat of my heart working hard to counterbalance the altitude. I had been at sea level in San Diego less than a day ago and had just spent a restless night camped at 12,000 feet. My watch alarm was set to go off at 4 a.m., making me solely responsible for waking my three companions for our big day.

Our two-hour approach to get to the base of Mount Russell, the eighth-highest mountain in California, consisted of a 1,000-foot elevation gain that traversed a massive boulder-covered ridge. We marched through the darkness guided by the dim glow of our headlamps which we turned off when the sun’s rays finally crested the ridge and began to warm the bitter cold rock face.

Gil and I got organized and roped up while Jake and Albert started climbing the first pitch at 8:30 a.m. Albert and Jake went first because they would be moving faster while alternating who was on lead and who was following. The lead climber carefully places spring-loaded camming devices in the rock. When a spring-loaded trigger wire is pulled, it retracts to make the device narrower. This allows the climber to slide the unit inside a crack. When the trigger is released, the cams expand to fit the rock and then the rope is clipped into the device to prevent the climber from falling. Once the leader makes it to the top of the pitch, an anchor is set for the follower to begin removing the camming devices while climbing to where the leader is stationed.

Gil’s level of experience with leading routes far surpassed my limited knowledge, so it was quite simple: He would lead all seven pitches of the climb and I would follow. This was the most efficient means for our 1,000-foot rock climb to the 14,088-foot summit of Mount Russell.

We estimated the climb itself would take eight hours, providing ample time to think over each move and be as careful as possible. Gil was strong on lead all day as he negotiated each move and placement of gear in the rock.

We powered our way up each pitch, and remained calm and focused even when the freezing-cold hail storm closed in on us while fully exposed on pitch five. The winds and hail pinned us against the mountainside for an hour until the storm continued north through the Sierra Nevada.

This pitch was rated the hardest pitch of the day by the guide book. The fact that my hands were wet and numb made it a formidable challenge. I literally had to wipe the hail off of the rock in search of hand holds while climbing with a 20-pound backpack.

The panoramic view from the summit was impressive. Getting to the top was incredible but by no means the most challenging aspect of our day. It was five o’clock in the afternoon and we still had a 2,000-foot descent to our base camp through the massive boulder field. By the time we packed up base camp and began the 3,500-foot descent of Mount Whitney’s mountaineer’s route, it was 8:30 p.m. This was the most difficult part of our day—each lugging 45 pounds on our backs down what at the time seemed like an endless staircase of switchbacks into the darkness below. Arriving at the car by 11:30 p.m. was a great relief to the group as we all were showing signs of extreme exhaustion.

After nourishment from a local late-night diner, we began the final leg of our journey: a four-hour drive back to San Diego during which my watch alarm sounded for the second time that day. We all took turns driving to battle the severe onset of exhaustion and arrived home safely after our 26-hour day.

This was the first installment in my journey to climb all 15 peaks in California over 14,000 feet. Please watch my ActiveVideo and be sure to join me on my next journey. Active Toby