Entries RSSI have found myself on an exposed ledge no wider than 5 inches. The air around me is hot and sticky. Sandstone cliffs rise above my head giving way to blue skies. Thousands of feet below me, a vast, barren landscape of waterless, desert valleys drop away. I am gripping to the rock for dear life. I have no rope, and to my knowledge, there is no one around to hear me if I yell out for help. I am painfully aware that the next step I take could very well be my solo launch into oblivion. I am frozen with fear, tears are rolling down my cheeks, I am starting to break into a nervous sweat and I am at a desperate loss for what to do next. I feel as if I am about to die. Suddenly, I wake up. I am sweating in real life, but I am in my bed, not on a cliff looking into emptiness. I have had this dream so many times since I was a little girl. I often wondered if, in my waking life, I would find myself in this place.
I got fed up with wigging out any time I found myself on a curvy road with steep drop offs, a ladder cleaning the gutters on my house, or a trail that was even the least bit exposed. I grew tired of the fear. Not just the obvious one of falling but of the unknown and of change, I grew tired of making decisions out of fear. Everything in my body, spirit and mind was screaming at me to face these issues head on. I couldn’t ignore it any longer. With the encouragement from my friend, I decided to take a class at the climbing gym. Maybe within those walls, I would find the strength to push my inner limits.
This little step freaked me out. While reading all the “risks” involved that I can’t hold the gym responsible for, I nearly walked out in the middle of signing all my release forms. What’s a belay? A carabiner?, It sounded naughty, where does that go? Why are my toes curled under my feet and I’m walking like a cowboy in ballet shoes? Is it really necessary to say “climbing”? Isn’t it obvious what I am doing? I was by myself, I was intimidated by all the testosterone around me and nervous of making a fool of myself not to mention, flat out scared. I mustered everything in me, and stayed for the course.
Nerves and shaky legs aside, to my absolute dismay I had a blast. At the end of class, the woman I got partnered with and I decided to stay for another 4 hours and play. This was just the beginning. We became quick friends and started climbing regularly at the gym, and each time I got a little more comfortable in my own skin and mind. I also learned I could take my shoes off when not on the wall.
Slowly, I began to climb outside. Single pitch climbs that felt just like the gym, but with fresh air, eased me in to multi-pitch adventures. A little bit too long of a gaze downward, and I was convinced that this was it, this is where my dream becomes reality and I fall into nothingness. At a difficult move, crying hysterically was a better choice than actually dealing with the task at hand which was to get to the top as fast as possible. While wildly trying to find my next hold, I made promises to myself I would never do this again. What was I thinking? Surely there is a better way to conquer my neuroses than this. Perhaps a soft couch in a doctors office sipping a hot cup of tea? Eventually though, I would get to the top, a patient friend there to receive me, and all was right again. Fear mixed with elation. I could reflect and be proud of my accomplishment, embarrassed by my meltdown and remarkably, able to appreciate the stunning views around me. The peaceful silence or the swish of a bird flying by, were reminders of my love of the outdoors. I found a deep strength developing.
This past September, I climbed Cathedral Peak in Yosemite. Not the most difficult climb, but a long, exposed, 7 pitches to the summit. A perfect granite slab that slims as it ascends towards its tiny summit.
A cold wind passes by the rock face, giving me the shivers. I am on a ledge, not moving. Several hundred feet below me, is a lake reflecting like a mirror the peaks all around me. Gray rock leads to hazy blue skies. I am waiting for the bottleneck of other climbers to clear so we can head up the chimney. I feel so peaceful as if I could hang there all day and watch the ghost like shadow of Half Dome in the distance. I feel blessed to have this bird’s nest view of the world around me. I realize that this is the place in my dream. The sandstone walls, dry valleys, and feelings of desperation have now been replaced by a simple smile and feeling of exhilaration. There is still fear but it doesn’t grip me or own me anymore.
I climb because it takes me to beautiful perches on mountainsides, it feeds my soul and I enjoy it. It encourages me to keep that commitment to myself that I made so long ago to embrace that which I am afraid of. It reminds me how precious life is, how beautiful the world can be, and that I can call up the courage I need to be fully engaged in life. From this small effort of taking a climbing class have come lessons bigger and more powerful than I had imagined. It is all this that keeps me coming back for more.
