I was at the top of the ledge. There was a shelf that I was standing on and this made me look directly down the route I had just scaled. My mind is blurry and my hands are shaking. There are two strings of thought clogging the tubes in my head. 1. Focus, clean the route and head down, focus, calm down, focus. 2. OK. I’m alright, I’m anchored, well to one bolt. Don’t slip. Let’s not test that bolt out.
I untie the rope and pull the quick draws. At this point the only thing protecting me from a fall is the one bolt that I am attached to and I’m not in the mode or position to try and get the second bolt attached. I’ll just NOT slip. I thread the rope throw both anchors. Both? Yes, double check. OK. Now tie the not. Is that right? Double check. Looks good from here. Attach the rope to my harness. Am I through both loops? Yes. Finish out the knot. Looks good. OK, the moment of truth. Test what I just did.
Before I step back off that ledge, I take one last look at the set up. I am relieved that everything looks the way it should and that I can feel my weight slink back into my harness. Slowly, slowly I am lowered back down the ledge.
My day started out a little rough and then went straight to hell.
There’s the typical hangover that makes you wish you hadn’t ever drank. And then there’s hangovers that make you wish you were never born. The latter was what I was experiencing.
KB and I started out our day, once again, at the Peace Tree. This time they remembered my Grapefruit juice. It didn’t matter how much coffee I poured down my throat, my brain would not clear. We made it back to Wall Street and I pulled my chair out of the car and sat my ass down. I only moved to get my Funyons. And then to get my Mountain Dew. When I finally stood up to go pee and I didn’t get dizzy I thought I could do the route I had been watching everyone play on.
I stopped three times before I hit the anchors at the top. The first two times were because I blacked out and suddenly couldn’t figure out where the holds were. The third one was because I suck at climbing and I had to figure out how to get through the crux. After I was lowered, I noticed my throat was tight and my mouth was so dry I could barely talk. And then the shakes set in.
I was second to last to do the route. As I sat there waiting for the climbing to be over, acid starting flowing back up my throat. If I was one to throw in the towel and just let myself off easy by vomiting that would have happened at this point. Unfortunately, my body doesn’t really work that way and instead I had acid reflux that could have lit up the entire city of Moab.
KB drove.
The plan for the second half of the day was to ride Slickrock. By the time we got to the trailhead, my throat hurt so bad the thought of breathing hard made me reconsider my career choices. But I also knew that a good ride would clear my head and stomach of what was making me ill.
We headed out on the trail. The sky was blue and I felt like I was floating. There wasn’t much going through my head so it’s a good thing this trail is easy. Flow down, climb up. Repeat. Soon the wind started to pick up and the some wispy clouds appeared in the horizon. We knew the wind was going to pick up, that’s why we staked down the tent before we left. We continued our ride.
At some point, my head cleared and I actually started riding my bike. Everyone else noticed this being the case because I started to smile. We rode and watched as those wispy clouds turned into a darker mass and started moving toward us. I started looking for alternative lines and riding anything that looked rideable. I wish I had the time to really play as the roller possibilities are almost endless. The rock is so smooth and transitions nicely. Getting vertical is not only possible, it’s something to seek out. And we did.
We reached the edge and started making our way back. The wind continued to howl and the dark cloud grew and moved closer. Soon, it became evident that we may have wanted to put the rain fly on the tent in addition to staking it down. As we began to worry about precipitation, the pace quickened and we found ourselves at the end of the loop meaning we just had a short jaunt back to the car. Sean had a roller that he wanted us all to try. We made our way to his line and rode it once just as it started to sprinkle. Seeing that KB’s and my tent was the only one sans rain fly, we took off for the car.
You can tell it was windy because I’m falling over.
We made it to the car as the rain continued to lightly come down. We put our things on the car as quickly as possible and made our way back to camp. I drove.
We rolled into the parking lot and scratched our heads. It took us a minute to figure out why we could see the inside of our tent. There was a huge hole in the side. Upon inspection, we found that a pole had snapped allowing the rest of the tent to go limp and released another pole that then ripped a huge hole in the side. We did what we could to remedy the situation, but it was clear that if it rained or continued to be windy, we would be camping in a hotel. It wasn’t until the next morning, when I was taking down the tent, that I found the steel pegs to be bent at a 45 degree angle. That was some fucking wind.
The group was meeting for dinner at the brewery, so we made like, you know, our way over there. Luckily, the crowded had dissipated and getting a table was not an issue. The faces were sunburned, tired and maybe even a little cranky. But we all ate our fill, drained our glasses and then worried about the next four hours or so of being back out in the elements. Back at camp things weren’t as bad as we had feared. There was wood. The wind died, but it did get cold.
We hunkered down around the hippy TV not wanting to go to bed too early. Except those who didn’t care and went to bed at 8. Who happened to also be the last ones out of bed the next morning. I never thought I would meet someone who could sleep more than KB, but her match has been met.
We awoke the next morning to a cold day. We packed everything up, got some breakfast and then didn’t ride. The plan was to do a quick ride that morning and then head home, but the cold weather and the sore throat that had settled in the night before made that plan less than appealing. We headed home.
P. L. and R.