Part I: The highlights
Climbing with Nathaniel at North Table Mountain
- Bro-ing out in the sunshine
- First-ever lead climb. We took turns reaching various bolts along the way, and may or may not have zigzagged up three adjacent routes to reach our anchor, but we did it. Moral of that story is that lead climbing is intensely terrifying. It is a terror that I've come to more or less expect while climbing class V pitches but for some reason simply cannot get used to. I am consistently caught by surprise with how out of control I feel while hanging thirty feet above terra firma. The omnipresent voice that whispers soothingly, "I can't do it," is only matched by the rush and sense of self-reliance (not to mention a huge amount of trust in the belayer... its a great incentive to keep dinner conversations cordial when entertaining in-laws. I'd hate to be perilously hanging atop a crag only to hear a mischievous voice call up, "So tell me again exactly how badly my climbing shoes smell?" For the record, and any future reference, they smell of spring lilies and butterflies frolicking hand-in-hand in abundant sunshine) that prevails once the objective is achieved.
- Note to self - multiple Del Taco gut bombs prior to climbing should henceforth be considered a poor choice and avoided whenever possible.
Camping at LHR and bouldering at Mt. Sanitas with Gigi, David and Tiffany
- New sleeping bag, fresh from the REI garage sale (60% off) fits me perfectly and is much like laying in a cloud of coziness.
- This was the first time that my lovely hammock has come camping. Hammock overlooking the reservoir + badass sleeping bag + starlit sky = an orgy of good outdoorsy vibrations.
- Speaking of hammocks and outdoorsy vibrations, I had the opportunity to spend an hour or so with Gigi reclining in our hammocks near the entrance to the access road while we waited for our companions to join us. In my opinion, some of the most attractive traits that another human being can possess are the ability to sit calmly and contentedly among trees, literacy (bonus points for utilizing this skill for leisure, and further bonus points for not reading intellectual black hole material like dieting books, Sean Hannity/Bill O'Reily, or this blog), and if they are not someone who also enjoys hiking/biking/skiing/running/jumping/climbing trees, then someone who understands and accepts the impulse for another human being do so. I feel privileged and elated that my partner is a sexy beast that possesses all of those qualities and more.
- Bouldering was hot! Tiffid was good company for the excursion, however, and we celebrated a successful afternoon's adventure by taking a swim. I love fantastic afternoons spent with fantastic people.
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| The author and Gigi, enjoying a game of rummy. |
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| Dave enjoying some hammock love. |
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| Awesome campsite. |
Part II: Meditations
The Deck
I had the privilege to sit on my deck and smoke a cigar the afternoon after bouldering with Tiffid. Anyone who has ever candidly philosophized with me at any length has heard of the fabled deck at my parents' home. Although I've recently identified as a non-theist in many respects, there are certain locales that I hold in the esteem of Holy Places. Things so-called "decks" live in my mind among the fine company that comprises the centerpiece of the Holy Table at which my soul dines. As I sat in the comfortable shade of the deck at my current residence, my mind took a walk among the pines and my sense of Self washed over my thoughts.
Summer is the time in which I recharge; there is room to think and grow, to try new things and to lay things to rest. During the school year there is time only for academia but in the summer there is time to pause. I realized (only last weekend?!) that I hadn't yet returned to this annual pilgrimage. Sitting on my deck in the evening shade - after a weekend of camping and climbing - I sat alone with myself in the knowledge that I am Home. It is a beautiful thing, and a gift that I only know how to give or receive when in proximity to the calm that is life out of doors. Summer has begun.
On The Loose
Since reading M. John Fayhee's Bottoms Up early this spring, I've wanted to track down a copy of and read On The Loose by Terry and Renny Russel. It is a book that chronicles the two brothers' collected philosophies and photographs of their travels into the backcountry leading up to 1966. I found it devoid of the angst-riddled prose that I would have expected to come from brothers 19- and 21-years old at the time of writing. All I ever wrote about at their age was how angsty my angst was; these were pages compiled by persons of intensely considerable humanity. When I read On The Loose, it jived with my youthful impulse to go run/climb/hike/bike/experience every mountain and valley that ever existed. I haven't been out as much as I would have liked to recently, but its all good because I know that adventure is out there waiting to be found.
In reflection of their time spent together and out in the wilderness, I am left with this quote from page 83:
"Well,
Have we guys learned our lesson?
You bet we have.
Have we learned to eschew irresponsible outdoorsmanship, to ask advice, to take care and plan fastidiously and to stay on the trail and to camp only in designated campgrounds and to inquire locally and take enough clothes and keep off the grass?
You bet we haven't.
Unfastidious outdoorsmanship is the best kind.
Adventure is not in the guidebook and Beauty is not on the map.
Seek and ye shall find."
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