Hello, fear. I see you're still with me. How's it going?
I have this thought as I cling to the side of a 30ft wall of orange desert rock. My toes are balanced on little nubs of sandstone and I am unsure if they will hold my weight. My hands are beginning to sweat through the chalk I applied at the bottom of the pitch and I can feel my right leg beginning to bounce up and down doing the "Elvis Shake." My adrenaline and fear are in control at this moment although my head knows that I am safe. I am on top rope, climbing a 5.9 pitch at Smith Rock State Park. I have done tougher climbs in my life but this one is getting to me and I'm not sure why. I feel the fear coursing through me and I acknowledge it.
Ok, fear. I see what you're doing here but it's not helpful at all. Can you just chill for a minute?
I take a few calming breaths and surprisingly the fear does fade a little. I am able to take in my surroundings and look at the spectacular view. Gigantic umber cliffs create an amphitheater towering into the sky. As the sun begins to set the cliffs create long shadows across the river. The sun hangs in a gap between two cliffs and the fleeting beam of sunshine warms the rock I am climbing. Having taken in my fill of the surrounding landscape I turn again to the pitch before me. The rock here is tacky and grippy but there is little in the way of features to hold onto. A little nub of rock here or a small crack there. It's nothing like the granite rock of North Carolina where I learned to climb. I know granite will hold and I know how to find the veins of white quartz running through the grey rock. Granite is solid. Sandstone is not. Here, the brittle wall can crumble without notice and you have to learn by feel if the rock you are holding onto is a good one or not. I could call Jeremiah and ask him to lower me, but I know if I can just keep moving, I can do this. Usually, when I climb I am able to let my fear go, but today it just won't leave me.
Alright, fear. I hear you, I feel you and I see that you are along for the ride. Let's do this.
With shaking arms and legs I continue to inch my way up the climb. I am not a fast climber nor am I a very skilled climber, but I am a persistent one. I am the tortoise on the wall. Thankfully Jeremiah is a patient belayer and he never rushes me or gets annoyed with the speed of my climbs. For both of us, just being out here is a gift and we treasure every minute of it. When I reach the top, I let out a huge breath of relief and take in my surroundings again. The sun is even lower and will move past the gap in the cliffs soon.
"Ready to lower!" I call out.
When my feet hit the ground I received fist bumps from Jeremiah and my two friends, James and Ari. They encourage me saying I did a great job. I know that wasn't my best climb ever, but it felt monumental to me. My fear was with me all the way up the wall and I still did it anyways. Fear can be a good thing, but it can also hold you back. Don't let it hold you back. Push through and enjoy the view.
