Once upon a time, Honnold tells me, he would have been afraid-his word, not mine-to have psychologists and scientists looking at his brain, probing his behavior, surveying his personality. After looking at gruesome and arousing images inside, he commented, “I was like, whatever.” ©2016 NGC Network International, LLC and NGC Network US, LLC Joseph put Honnold into an MRI tube to measure his brain’s fear levels. The concerned scientist leaned in close, shot a glance toward Honnold, and said, “That kid’s amygdala isn’t firing.” NO BIG DEAL: Technician James Purl and neuroscientist Jane E. In one of them, a neurobiologist waited to share a few words with Synnott about the part of the brain that triggers fear. When the Explorers Hall presentation concluded, the adventurers sat down to autograph posters. Synnott summed up the villagers’ reaction: “Basically, they think Alex is a witch.” (“The rock quality wasn’t the best,” Honnold said later.) He was alone and without a rope. There was Honnold, the same casual dude who was sitting on stage in a grey hoodie and khakis, now looking like a toy as he scaled a huge, bone-colored wall behind the town. Up came the photograph for the gasp from the crowd.
And we’re like, ‘What’s going on?’ And of course I’m thinking, ‘Well, I’m pretty sure I know.’ ” “At a certain point,” Synnott said, “these guys start yelling and they’re pointing up at the cliff.
Coming upon an isolated village, they went ashore to mix with the locals. Synnott got the biggest response from a story set in Oman, where the team had traveled by sailboat to visit the remote mountains of the Musandam Peninsula, which reaches like a skeletal hand into the mouth of the Persian Gulf. The audience was there to hear from climbing photographer Jimmy Chin and veteran explorer Mark Synnott, but above all they had gathered to gasp at tales about Honnold. In 2014, he gave a presentation at Explorers Hall, at the National Geographic Society headquarters in Washington, D.C. He also inspires no shortage of peanut-gallery commentary that something is wrong with his wiring. He might insist that he feels fear (he describes standing on Thank God Ledge as “surprisingly scary”), but he has become a paramount symbol of fearlessness. He has appeared on the cover of National Geographic, on 60 Minutes, in commercials for Citibank and BMW, and in a trove of viral videos. Even Honnold has said that his palms sweat when he watches himself on film.Īll of this has made Honnold the most famous climber in the world. Just watching a video of Honnold climbing will trigger some degree of vertigo, heart palpitations, or nausea in most people, and that’s if they can watch them at all. On the hardest parts of some climbing routes, his fingers will have no more contact with the rock than most people have with the touchscreens of their phones, while his toes press down on edges as thin as sticks of gum. Above about 50 feet, any fall would likely be lethal, which means that, on epic days of soloing, he might spend 12 or more hours in the Death Zone.
Whats the difference between braina pro and braina free free#
Honnold is history’s greatest ever climber in the free solo style, meaning he ascends without a rope or protective equipment of any kind.
Had he lost his balance, he would have fallen for 10 long seconds to his death on the ground far below. Honnold side-shuffled across this narrow sill of stone, heels to the wall, toes touching the void, when, in 2008, he became the first rock climber ever to scale the sheer granite face of Half Dome alone and without a rope. The verb was inspired by photographs of Honnold in precisely that position on Thank God Ledge, located 1,800 feet off the deck in Yosemite National Park. “To honnold”-usually written as “honnolding”-is to stand in some high, precarious place with your back to the wall, looking straight into the abyss.
0 kommentar(er)
