This is a map of ways I'd ascended through Lost Creek up till 2014.	This was our trip Sept 16, 2023	We are nearing the top of the trail to the Sandstone North Peak, view W to "Tio Grande."
Damsel (aka Pincushion) to ENE
Top 120' rap
		I handline down
	We used to crawl underneath this boulder
	My helmet after the fall. My neck is still sore 2 months later.	View back at where I fell.
	Place with very long webbing strap to start rap.
Down last rap	Last rap

Most people know that I have a serious problem with distraction, when I’m attempting tasks that normally require the cerebellum. I use the upper part of my brain (cerebrum) to stead for the missing part of my cerebellum. That’s a very inefficient process. If something suddenly needs my cerebrum – like intensive tasks that requires parsing of speech, or talking – well, bad things can happen very quickly.

But can’t I just ask people to stop talking, when I sense that I’m getting overwhelmed? Simply put: no, not always. For one, I am a friendly guy, and like talking. I normally deal with the situations by being slightly in front of people when there is anything that requires cerebellum.

The dangerous state comes on very quickly; and the feeling is euphoric. I can see that my current situation may be dangerous, but there is no alarm signal sent to my amygdala; potentially scary things seem scary only in an abstract way.  And my ability to talk becomes very limited. The first time this happened to me (in a place that mattered) was in 2004; I was about to lunge, when I realized that lunging might cause my head to hit a branch. That seemed like a bad outcome, but there was no fear, and I lunged anyway, and knocked myself out, then tumbled 20 feet. What distracted me then was that I heard 3 separate conversations in the background, and there were questions I thought I had to answer. I learned how to give myself mental “pinches,” to filter out conversations, and that is *usually* enough.

On this day, I was so much enjoying conversation, that I let my guard down. The lead set up to rap on a single strand, but both strands were hanging down. I kept track of the strand the lead took; but I got distracted, trying to answer questions, and there was a seconds-long hole in my perception, during which the strands were flipped. I could sense that I couldn't deal with the questions, and wanted to leave before the I lost control of reality. And I went down the wrong strand.

If you have ever had total anesthesia, you know there is a moment when you are about to go under, when you feel euphoric, and all fear is gone, and you don’t care about doing anything. That’s how it feels; and that would be a bad feeling to have if you were driving a car, coming to a stoplight.