Extreme

Somewhere out there

in the oceans and mountains

is a place where time does not exist.

When we get to that place,

there is a voice in us that challenges us to go one step further.

And those who find that place

and then return to the presence of others

become the speakers.

They are the messengers.

The ocean talks to us in different ways.

It talks to everyone in different ways.

For me, because of my culture,

because of who I am, because of being Hawaiian.

Our ancestors have taught us to read the elements--

to read the wind, to read the earth, to read the ocean,

the waves, the water, the reefs,

the fish, the marine life,

because there are signs that tell you what is happening

or what is about to happen.

When there are certain currents that's moving,

certain tidal currents,

it's telling you that the surf is coming up.

When the clouds are moving in a certain direction,

or the color of the sunset is telling you

of different storms that's moving across.

There's so many different signs that the ocean,

the skies that will communicate to you

if you know what you're looking for.

Tow-in surfing is using a jet ski

to be towed into waves that is too big to paddle into.

It's a sport of a team, of a group.

You can only survive by your teammate,

from the man who's pulling you into the wave

to the man who's safetying you from the side.

When that lifeguard has to respond

to a worst case scenario,

it's a life and death situation.

These people are pulling into the biggest barrels

and the biggest waves in the deepest zone

and the hardest impact area

in the most extreme conditions.

There's no way humanly possible

you could paddle into these waves,

so when you wipe out

into these massive volumes of surf,

you're under for just a long, long time.

You really need to train not only your mind,

but your body and your soul

to get ready for that intense wipe-out.

What I've been doing lately

is I grab this 80-pound lava rock,

and we'll go running in the channel.

We'll just go back and forth and just keep going

until we pretty much just tire ourselves out.

My biggest strength is knowing my weaknesses

and try to strengthen my weaknesses in whatever I do.

Now the Wave riders, GQ here

with your special edition update,

your forecast for Big Wednesday.

It'll be the biggest swell we've seen all year.

Some spots could reach 30 feet,

and it's going to be an epic day for tow-ins and Waimea Bay.

We knew this day was coming.

This is the first time that anyone on the island of Oahu

has ever attempted to ride waves of this size.

We've been out there on 30-foot days before.

And this was bigger.

This was much larger.

January 28, 1 998--

the first time 35- and 45-foot waves were ever ridden.

It's a milestone that will be measured from now on.

When I am going out

to push against what l am capable of doing,

I have to have fear.

Fear is the thing that, uh, keeps you sane.

Without fear, you'd do something insane.

20 tears of climbing have taught me

to use that fear as kind of a friend and let it focus my concentration

and just bring me into the moment of what I'm doing

and really concentrate on the climbing and perform better.

I realize

that I've got to control that fear

and select from that fear

and determine what's real and what's imaginary.

There's a learning curve there,

and over time you get acclimated

to more technical steep terrain,

and you grow into it.

I like to get out into places

that no human has ever been before

and who knows what's there,

and often, that can take everything you've got

to get through the face

and up to the top or down to the bottom or halfway up and down.

Soloing's climbing without a rope,

climbing by yourself without a rope.

If you fall, you're going to fall all the way to the ground.

It's just you and the waterfall, and you're climbing.

The feeling is, uh, freedom.

It's just freedom.

When you're soloing, you're alone,

and that has rewards,

but l think you probably glean more rewards

from interacting with your partner,

or, in my case, going climbing with my wife.

I think the self-reliance aspect of climbing

can make you aware of the possibility of doing things you never imagined,

and I think it just makes you realize

how far a human being can push themselves.

If you do something like that with style and control,

that's a perfect day.

Yeah, I think

that the feeling of the mountains

is something that you have within you,

and I don't think I could ever live away from that.

I know that there are lots of powers and spirits.

I feel that every day.

The mountains in Alaska are just something spectacular.

You're just surrounded by mountains

as far as you can see,

and then you have the chance to be able to ski all that--

I mean to pick up a line

and say "I want to ski this" or "I want to ski that,"

and that's just incredible.

It's a weird feeling

in the pit of your stomach when you are out there,

and you feel like it's time travel,

and you could have been there millions of tears ago

and it wouldn't have been much different.

The snow quality up here is incredible.

The mountains are just really beautiful

and steep, very steep.

Earth, my body.

Skiing is an expression of style.

It's how you interpret the mountain.

It's how you use the mountain.

It's how you flow down the mountain

and what you choose to do with whatever's in front of you.

Earth, my body.

Water, my blood.

Wind, my breath.

Fire, my spirit.

Earth, my body.

Water, my blood.

Wind, my breath.

Fire, my spirit.

Earth, my body.

Water, my blood.

With snow safety,

I always check-- first of all, wherever I go,

I check with the people who are in the know,

the most knowledgeable people in the area,

and I find out from them what the snow pack's been doing.

Those are the people that are going to save your life

because if you don't check with someone

and you go out there on your own,

you can get smoked.

No, I don't think

you want to beat the mountain

because, again, you know that the mountain

will always be stronger than you.

But you just have to be in harmony with the mountain,

and once you can achieve that,

it means that you've understood a little bit,

Like a very little bit, of how the mountain functions.

Sloughing is one

of the finer things in Alaska.

It's when snow moves with you while you're skiing,

and it's not really an avalanche

in the sense that the slope fractures

and the whole slope starts moving with you.

It's more that the snow that you're skiing starts moving with you.

And once that snow starts moving,

it takes all the rest of the snow below it with it,

and then eventually it's this huge mass of snow

moving all around you,

and either you're in front of it, you're behind it, or you're in it.

If you're in it, you don't want to stay in it.

lf you're in front of it, you want to stay in front of it,

and if you're behind it, that's probably the safest place to be,

but it's not always the most fun because you have to go slow then.

It's an amazing feeling

skiing when the snow is moving.

I guess I got some firsthand knowledge

of how good a helmet is for you.

It wasn't a serious exposure on that line

that I was risking death.

I knew I could tumble,

otherwise I wouldn't have aired that top air.

I tried to recover as hard as I could,

and for a split second I thought I had it--

I guess that's what usually happens--

and l just couldn't pull it off,

and I knew the rocks were coming.

I also knew I could clear the cliff band,

so I was basically hoping I wouldn't hit my head,

and as it happened, I did hit my head,

and the helmet was there for me.

The addiction to adrenaline

is what gets most people into these action sports,