Seneca Rocks, West Virginia, “Go to the stop sign. There is only one. Turn left and then turn left again across the
bridge. We’ll be camped next to the big
tree in a quarter mile.” These were my
directions for October 9-11, 2009. My
job was to show up, with a tent and sleeping bag, but even that was understood
to be optional. It was time to climb
something.
Let’s back up a bit though.
As a child, I loved being outdoors and my parents and grandparents encouraged
exploring. We were outside a lot. I would read books and magazines about far
off places and the high reaches of the mountains held a mystique all their
own. Epic tales were told about these
peaks and the challenges they presented.
I needed to go. As John Muir
said, “The mountains are calling and I must go.” But I lived in Toledo, Ohio and was active in
team sports, so the mountains would have to wait.
I was fortunate to meet Chris Rice in 2006. Chris at 60 years old, was a retired walking US
Postal carrier and had climbed around the country and world for 20 years and invited
me down after a grip sport competition. He
gave me the above date and directions.
If I showed up, we’d climb. I
arrived late Friday night, set up my tent and tried to sleep with the unknown
ahead of me. Saturday morning came soon
enough with a cool 30 degrees. I rolled
out of my tent and looked East. The
Seneca Rocks south summit stood highlighted in the morning light, 900ft. above
where we slept. Chris just looked at me
and said, “That’s where we’re going.
Lets eat.”
Eggs, bacon, coffee and then loaded up our packs for the 30
minute hike to the base of the climb.
Our climbing route was to be ‘Banana’ to ‘Gunsight to South Peak’, three
plus pitches of climbing. ‘Banana’ was
our most technical pitch rated at 5.6, but I managed the moves with Elvis
legs. I forgot to mention I have a fear
of heights, but I was committed.
‘Gunsight to South Peak’ was easier climbing, 5.3, BUT it’s exposed with
200ft. of air under you. I had lots of
self-talk going on and kept my nose glued to the wall in front of me. We sat on what I believed to be the smallest
ledge ever as I belayed Chris across the south peak traverse to the
summit.
The guidebook states to “walk, crawl or slither” across (oh
wow) 200-300ft. of open air on either side of 2ft. of rock, I slithered and
shaked. At the summit, Chris asked if I
wanted to stand? Nope, I’m good
sitting. I’ve never been so scared and
so excited at the same time. After a few
pictures, we down-climbed a short section to our rappels. Back on the ground, I could finally breathe
normally again. I was enthralled and
could not wait for more.
The explorer bug that sat dormant for years was
reawaken. The call and mystique of the
outside was ever-present, and I must go.
I have now also had the ability to lead others to these magical
places. Jack Keroauc wrote in The Dharma Bums,
“Because in the end, you won’t
remember the time you spent working in the office or mowing your lawn. Climb
that goddamn mountain.”
So if you are tired of the confining walls and someone
else’s Youtube adventure, come with me and #findyouroutside.
