Weber State Comment, Fall 1990 A Lone Striker He knew another place, a wood, And in it, tall as trees, were cliffs; And if he stood on one of these, ’Twould be among the tops of the trees, Their upper branches round him wreathing, Wa Their breathing mingled with his breathing. If—if he stood! He knew a Enough of ifs! path that wanted walking; He knew a spring that wanted drinking; A thought that wanted further thinking; Excerpt from A love that wanted re-renewing. A Lone Striker Nor was this just a way of talking by Robert Frost To save him the expense of doing. With him it boded action, deed. The factory was very fine; He wished it all the modern speed. Yet, after all, ’twas not divine, That is to say, ’twas not a church. He never would assume that he’d Be any institution’s need. But he said then and still would say If there should ever come a day When industry seemed like to die Because he left it in the lurch, Or even merely seemed to pine For want of his approval, why, Come get hin—they knew where to search. Dr. Mikel Vause: Gentleman Climber he hot July sun beat on Mikel Vause as he gripped the face of the rocky cliff with fingers and toes. Perspiration beaded on his forehead. “It scares you to death sometimes,” Dr. Vause said later. “But I guess the reason I climb is that there’s always that thrill.” Dr. Vause stands 6 feet 1 inch, weighs in at over 200 pounds, and looks nothing like the stereotype of the professor of English literature that he is. He bristles at the suggestion that English literature is only for the bookish and the anemic. “A sensitivity to the arts has been sissified only in the American context. For some reason in our social system unless men are doing manual labor they are not a real man,” he said. One female student recently told Dr. Vause her husband had said English was a good field for women because of its feminine nature. Dr. Mikel Vause, shown here in his office, decided to become an English professor when his boss in Ogden's youth correction system told him he ought to become a poet. He did so, and his poem included here recalls a visit to his father's old shop on ‘-E” Avenue in West Ogden. “T told her I would very much like to meet her husband,” he said. “Once in a while I used to challenge male students like that to three rounds in the ring. If they won I bought dinner, and if I won they’d buy. I had few takers,” Dr. Vause added. A graduate of Weber State, Dr. Vause has climbed since his youth. He grew up at the base of Mt. Ogden, and climbing, he said, seemed “the natural thing to do.” “Hunting and fishing are the ways most men enjoy the outdoors, but I don’t like to hunt and fish. I enjoy climbing,” he said. ~ He worked for awhile in the Ogden area youth correction system in outdoor and recreational therapy programs. Part of his job included taking young men and women into the mountains for wilderness experiences, a practice he continues now with business executives, he said. “My boss in the mental health program had a Ph.D. in English and mental health. One day he said that I ought to be a poet. I’ve always enjoyed writing and reading so I went back to Weber State and earned my bachelor of arts degree in English,” he said. He continued his education at Bowling Green University where he was a Fellow — and earned his Ph.D. in English, specializing in 19th Century wilderness writers. He spent his spare time climbing buildings, (“University towns sort of expect that kind of lunacy,” he said.) and has since climbed Mt. Rainier, the Tetons, most of the famous rock climbing locations in England and hundreds of other cliffs in Utah and Idaho. “I had a chance to go to the Himalayas, but could not make the arrangements. Someday,” he said. He said he climbs most often without a rope to help his ascent, but does use a line as a safety precaution. “There always has to be someone who is the first up, and I like going up much better than coming down,” he said. Only once has he had a major injury, and that when he was teaching a rock climbing class. He fell off a boulder and broke his arm in five places, he said. “Rock climbing is a problem-solving process. There’s the physical problem of the rock—deciding how to deal with outcroppings and other obstacles—and there’s the psychological side. Being psychologically strong is almost more important than the physical strength,” he said. After he broke his arm, two or three years passed before he felt he had the mental stamina to aggressively work his way up the stone walls that were both physical and mental, he said. “Climbers go into this knowing full well that accidents can happen,” he said. “You have to know when you’re pushing your limits and when you’re being stupid.” “For me,” he said, “climbing combines my love of academics and my love of the mountains.” Dr. Vause, pausing in his ascent of the Teton Mountains. Scaling a cliff in Ogden Canyon... Dr. Vause began climbing as a teenager. “EK” Ave. — West Ogden The machine shop Stands old and grey and wrinkled. It was always old, The difference is the silence. Presses and lathes — its heart and organs Have stopped. The only life is the weeds, Growing over the path that led from industry To the pastures and barn, To the horses and the smell of hay and oats And excitement Now a graveyard of empty corrals. The once soft, hoof-marked ground Concrete hard, not yielding. Once Eden and alive The horses gone for glue that has dried And cracked. Ghosts live here now, Decay Reclaiming the old skeletons.