Or I was, yesterday. About 2000 feet off the valley floor, suspended by 2 9.4 mm ropes anchored by webbing slings attached to a bolt drilled into the rock by some porch swing hardware. Simultaneously beautiful, and quiet, and terrifying.
Yesterday was our 3rd Rock Day--the culmination of all the rock skillz we've been learning. We set off from NCAR early--about 6:30AM, in order to avoid traffic jams at the rock. It looked much like it looked a year ago out there--the snow finally gone, the grass temporarily green, super pretty, remembering how I got so taken by this place so quickly.
Kevin was out with some nasty sinus infection, and our fearless senior leader Deb got rear-ended the day before and could barely extend or rotate her neck, so she came in with us and made sure we got off the ground ok and bid us adieu. I was bummed, because I really like Deb and she loves to teach rock and she's a fantastic climber, but she offered to go out with us after the class was over--said she trusted our skills enough, which is a huge compliment.
Frank and Jason led us up in teams of 4 and 3, respectively. The leaders got to wear rock shoes, while we got to wear our clunky mountaineering boots. We were, to be fair, only following, and didn't really need them. But trying to climb in them was an experience all the same. Good thing the crack route up Seal isn't too vertical. Frank figured out a masterful scheme of rope management whereby we all got to try cleaning routes and anchors but we never had to untie from our initial tie-ins. Oh wait, Tim and Cindy had to switch places at the end of Frank's rope, but that was it. We also learned how helpful it could be to have radios at the top of the 3rd pitch, after Frank and Tim had climbed up to the top of the 4th and final pitch. The pitch was about the full length of the rope, and because of the way the rock curved you couldn't see or hear above or below you. There was so much drag on the rope you couldn't feel rope drag either. Apparently Tim (belaying me from the top) and I (waiting patiently at the bottom for him to pull up all the slack and signal that he was ready to have me on belay so I could climb) were yanking on either end of the ropes like ringing a church bell but neither of us could feel it. Finally they heard me scream "Climbing!!!" and two climbers waiting patiently behind us confirmed they heard "Climb on, Laura!" so up I went. About halfway up I found a nut someone had left in the crack--obviously left because they couldn't get it out, and I had no cleaning tool, but I thought I'd try anyway. It worked! I thought I scored a piece to begin building my rack. Turned out it was Frank's, and Tim wasn't able to get it out. Oh well.
The whole climb was super fun--technical enough that you could practice different moves and techniques but not so steep it was impossible for newbs like us. I climbed better than I thought I would, even not considering the boots--I felt like I was problem solving better than I ever had, and not nervous at all. Of course, I was trying not to think of the rap at the end.
Ah, the rap down. Most that I've done start with some sort of flat ground at the top, with a horizontal lip over which you have to hang your butt into space so your legs are about 90º to the rock and you just kind of walk them down as you lower yourself through your belay device. This one was different. You don't start from the tippy-top of the rock, but rather about 20 feet below it. You scooch yourself through a narrow cleft between slabs until the whole rock drops away in a sheer (except for the overhung section!) face. When you get there, you clip into the anchor at then reach one leg around the corner (like around a corner in a hallway) only there's no floor. Then you hop out with the other one and let your autoblock hold you while you get situated. Now you are hanging completely out in the void, only your face is so right up against the rock you could kiss it, and your legs are hanging straight down. Somehow you have to lower yourself a little while kicking yourself away from the rock to get in that sitting position, which you figure out how to do, and then down you go. Except there is so much rope drag it isn't a smooth or even a fast ride at all, a lot of bouncy-bouncy (at least for me). But it was very controlled.
Then I saw beneath my feet that the overhang was approaching. I lowered over it, and then... I was in space! I continued to inch down, and then I began to spin slowly around to face out from the rock. I was only about halfway down, and I realized as I gazed out onto the foothills and Boulder and the plains in the 200 or so degree view before me, I am so very, very high. Hanging by two strands of nylon. It felt surreal. I even stopped for a minute to let my arms rest--that's how difficult it was to feed rope through with all that drag. It was just quiet, and everything felt far, far away. Even my classmates below me were still far away--all I could hear was a gentle wind. Just me dangling in space.
I kept lowering, lowering, lowering, finally got back to rock against my feet, and then I was down on the ground, and that was it. Cindy came down, it looked like she nearly flipped upside down when she hit the free rappel section, but she went fast and righted herself. Then came Frank, who said he nearly tipped upside down too from the weight of all his gear. Then it was time to pull down the ropes, coil them, and hike out to the cars in time to hit Southern Sun for beers and food.
I wish James were there. I can't wait for him to get here in June and take me climbing in the Flatirons. I think I finally, 15 years after starting, get climbing. I wish I had gotten a picture from the rappel, but I wasn't thinking and my camera pretty much stayed buried in my pack. Stay tuned for hard snow day next week, wherein we try not to slash our ropes, our clothes, or ourselves by mis-stepping while wearing crampons. And then I race to the airport and maybe have to courier Jamie's cat Agnes to LA. And try to pass my NBAO exam in spite of waiting until the last possible moment to study. Should be exciting!
