By Jennifer Risi
Our Final Debrief of Climbing Camp
It’s around 10 p.m. and a balmy 89 degrees. There’s a glow emanating from the embers of a fire and all around it’s black as pitch. There’s a cacophony of insects and critters, chittering and creaking in the darkness, it feels louder than the music that played on the drive coming here. It’s the last day of the Rock Climbing Camp at Enchanted Rock, and everyone is absolutely knackered. But in a good way.
Gathered all around the embers, we twelve reflect on the ups and downs of the last five days, the connections we forged and shared, the challenges we took on, the skills we learned.
Processing the Memories and the Lessons
We start with shoutouts. Giving praise and showing appreciation for our camp comrades who have done exceptional things, showed us or others support, went above and beyond for their partners. The camaraderie, the esteem is palpable. Each of us has played a role. Each of us has something uplifting to say about our fellow climbers. More than one person commends Cruz for his honorary status as the main belayer of the camp. Immediately following, we recognize Sawyer for his status as backup belayer. We talk about our shared miseries (as Sawyer points out, those gnats were something awful, truly), our shared laughs (that time one of us laughed so hard, they bumped their head on the dashboard of the van, only to laugh even harder), and our shared triumphs. It’s a serene, bond-forming moment. Around the embers, as the shoutouts die down, it gets suddenly quiet. We all look up. Above us, in the darkness, the stars are shining, numerous and bright.
It’s been mind-meltingly hot each and every day, but we’ve pushed through together in a way that is truly commendable. On the first day, we go on a hike and try bouldering at “Carnivore Boulders”. Many of us are trying something new. Someone has to be that brave pioneer, so Will goes first. He slides into a pair of climbing shoes and, with impressive speed, ascends to the top. When he summits, he’s thrilled and gives a whoop while we cheer from below. Then comes the challenge of descending; he’s a bit intimidated by the height and not sure how to proceed. Tony offers some advice and encouragement. There is a crashpad for Will to land on when he’s close to the bottom. Will slowly lowers himself down the boulder, one step and two handholds at a time. When he makes it back to the ground, Sawyer approaches the boulder. Thanks to Will, he has a better idea of what to do. The rest of us at least attempt to boulder up the rock. Sometimes we get stuck, unsure what to do next. In the sweat, in the swarm, we figure it out together. Watching each other. Troubleshooting together. Learning from one another.
The afternoon after our first full day of climbing, we notice, mouths watering, a Kona snow cone truck at the head of the trail. The prospect, in 100 degree heat after being in the sun for six or so hours, is so tantalizing it’s almost painful. Armando offers to buy cones for everyone. Nearly everyone immediately, gratefully, agrees. He’s pretty much the man of the hour. Armando smiles while everyone thanks him, just happy to bring that simple joy to the group. It becomes something of a tradition after that. Each time we return from a long day of hiking and climbing in the heat and sun, we luxuriate in the ice-cold sweetness of snow cones.
Each person on this trip agrees it has been a memorable one. In one particularly profound moment, the final climb of the camp, performed by Alberto, results in the climber becoming frightened at the apex of his climb. Alberto hesitates to belay down to ground level. Unprompted, Kristen latches as an anchor onto the rear harness loop of Tony, who’s belaying, followed by another person latching on to anchor Kristen, and another, and another, until every member of the camp forms a train of anchors as a show of solidarity and support for Alberto. Will and Armando act as Alberto’s spotter’s receiving him as he reaches the ground to help stabilize him. A cheer goes up, and we all clap. We started out as a group of people, some strangers and some friends, but we end as a team. It is truly inspiring and emotional to witness.
After shoutouts, we talk about our highs, our lows, and our “buffalos.” The funny moments when something silly happened, something that we’ll remember for a while. Will mentions the dashboard incident first (“When Jennifer hit her head on the dash because she was laughing so hard, and, like, just started giggling even harder,” he recalls), and Kristen and Tony both say that was their buffalo, too. We all laugh about it. Several of us, including Armando and Araceli, commend Alberto for his bravery on the last climb. We acknowledge that conquering a fear does not always mean eradicating it; it most often means that we have faced a fear and not allowed it to overwhelm us. When we disperse to shower and to our tents, there’s a subtle bittersweetness. Everyone is, more or less, ready to go home (and sleep in their own beds, with air conditioning), but the beauty of the place around us, the beauty of what we’ve experienced and forged together, isn’t something we necessarily want to run away from. Luckily, we don’t have to. We’ll take those things with us.
Oh How We’ve Grown
It’s a funny thing, growth. It’s not always obvious. Sometimes it’s uncomfortable. Many times it involves us confronting something that intimidates us. The subtle signs of growth in everyone during our trip are there. Will, the first to climb every route, is also the first to give his shoutouts. He remarks his lows as, other than feeling a little under the weather, that first day when he reached the top of the boulder and found the height a bit intimidating. As the climbs progressed, so did his confidence. Sawyer, who had never climbed before, took a liking to belaying and belayed more than anyo
ne else during the trip, except for Cruz. Araceli often displayed extreme kindness, even to the point of self-sacrifice, even electing to carrying a particularly heavy backpack of climbing rope in Will’s place because she “saw ants climbing on it and didn’t want Will to get bitten.” These are the kinds of things you can expect from our climbers, I’ve come to learn. These are the traits that they’ve developed by working together, are still developing. In many ways, it’s been an uplifting and transformative experience, and I believe that every person on this trip had a positive impact on their fellow climbers and were positively impacted in return.
