The Trip D

After my shower, I shaved, flossed, brushed, slicked the hair, robed, smiled for the camera, and snapped off a couple of digitally enhanced black and whites. I was off to get rugged, to become a part of nature. The rocks awaited my presence, and I longed to be one swung arm away from the top of the boulder, and one slipped foot away from a cracked skull. What can bouldering teach me? It’s synonymous with life, isn’t it? Can’t you always see a way to the top, while acknowledging a single misstep could lead to a cracked skull? That credit card debt of yours, it wouldn’t go away if your superiors increased your salary. “Dang, if I only made thismuch, everything would be all right.” Not true. If you made thatmuch, you would find a way to squander that as well. Outdoor bouldering is an exhausting and not always rewarding experience. It should be, but it isn’t. The sun has its way with you, the dust on the rocks gets blown in your face, and splinterings of tiny pebbles always seem to find their way into the corners of my eyes. Climbing indoors can be taxing, certainly, but not nearly to the same extent as climbing outdoors. You have to prepare yourself, mentally and physically, before attempting to scale a giant rock armed with nothing but shorts, shoes, and some chalk. The ground is an unforgiving slab, so you are not afforded the luxury of falling and bouncing like in an indoor rock gym. If you are interested in this sport, and you live in or around Los Angeles, visit Rockreation. It is one of the best I’ve seen. Although it isn’t exactly a sport of leisure, and people perish every year engaging in rock-related activity, I am predicting a surge in interest. Not related to this article, of course, just a general increase in the amount of climbers. Even the most adamant homebodies are still captivated by the prospect of a person hanging by one arm off a cliff, or pulling themselves upward by the use of two fingers. Some of these heads around can literally propel their bodies vertically by having just fingertips in the tiniest divot. It is quite an amazing site.

Before the phone call, I decided a shower and shave was in order. It had been a few days, and I had not even been at home since yesterday morning. I was becoming singular in my thinking, close-minded in my dealings. Work was all I knew, and I needed to become refreshed, and maybe even get a little exercise, before I continued on. When was the last time I saw the inside of the gym? Three weeks ago? A month?  For years I was a model of diligence when it came to fitness. Hopefully that dedication will return. When I picked up the cordless, she sounded at first desperate, and then scared, and then the fright turned to panic. I thought it was supposed to be the other way around. Don’t you typically panic first, and then get scared? Or are they simultaneous? I guess it varies. “He wanted to get some exercise, or something. But he said he wasn’t going to the gym. I thought he was running or hiking, but I guess he went climbing. He hasn’t climbed in years.”

During the ascension, it occurred to me that I needed to buy a mat. With only my hands and feet and body attached to this mass of sediment, I should take more precautions. If not moreprecautions, at least one precaution, being a mat. It would do a lot of good if I were to, oh, say, land on my head. Didn’t I predict an upswing in the number of rock climbers? This is Sunday afternoon, with the NFL raging and the weather blistering, yet there are quite a few people out here on the rocks today. Some are gazing, some taking pictures, and some happy couples tag teaming the boulders and having a happy-go-go time of it. The smiles met my scowls, the perspiration hair gel combo met my pupils and stung so that my eyes reddened and began to tear. Why would I put gel in my hair prior to climbing? I know I was to go to lunch prior, but after it didn’t work out due to her cancellation, I should have washed it out or something. Why did she terminate today’s afternoon engagement? Was it me? Was it her? Of course it was me. So I climbed. And the pictures met my back. No, I will not turn my head so you can capture my agony. When I get to the top I will not stand and pump my fists in achievement. Nothing has been accomplished. Not yet. I will lie down and covet the gritty surface, spreading out in meditation for the trip to come. The trip down.