Hanging by a thread

Day 140 of the project,
Koh Lanta, Thailand

"More on your right foot. No, your other right. Now push and REACH for it! Good! Now move your left hand into the hole."

"What hole? There is no....oh wait, there it is."

After two days of sweat, swearing, scrapes and bruises, I was finally getting the hang of it. No pun intended.

One of the goals for the 30th Year Project was to get outside of my comfort zone. Sand boarding and high-altitude hiking aside, I had not really challenged myself physically. With only seven weeks to go, I decided the rock climbing mecca of Railay would be the perfect place to test my limits.

Rock climbing has always held a certain appeal, though I have never gone for it. There has been no shortage of opportunities. One of my best friends in high school was an active climber and there are many good places in Northwest Arkansas. I skipped the elective credit class in university. I have still not used my Christmas gift card for Mission Rocks (sorry Mom). My sister actively climbed when she lived in Santa Barbara.

My inaction stems from fear. I'm not afraid of heights and I trust my physical strength and body, in spite of my well-documented hand-eye-foot coordination issues. My hesitation has always centered around the rope. It goes against our gut survival instinct to trust a string the circumference of a pinky finger and connected to our bodies with a series of metal clips and rings. Especially when it is clumsy me tying it.

The first day of climbing school was excruciating. Like so many beginners, I relied almost solely on my arms. I completed four of seven climbs, sweated through three liters of water and acquired a generous collection of bruises on my knees and shins. My relationship with the rope improved, as I learned the basic figure eight knot and trusted it enough to let go during descent.

Day two started out quietly. After completing five climbs, the instructor decided it was time to expand my skill set. The first skill was lead climbing....and I was terrified. The lead climber sets up the belay rope on the wall for the rest of the climbers. It means there is no safety rope until you reach the first bolt on the wall and attach it. After several rounds of practice tying various knots and using a series of clips on the ground, I was deemed ready to go.

The first bolt was only about five meters off the ground, but it might as well have been fifty. Palms sweating and knees shaking, I made it to the first bolt and clipped in. I continued onward until I reached the top anchor. Using a thin safety sling rope and locking carabiener for support, one must untie oneself from the main rope in order to complete the set up. The waves of adrenaline washed over me, but I did it.

Day three marked the "advanced" skills. Abseiling or rappelling was quickly absorbed and completed. Now I faced the final "basic" skill; multi-level climbing. This occurs when the top of a course cannot be reached with one rope alone. So both climbers go up, with the lead climber setting the course and then supporting the second climber until she reaches the first tier. Rinse, wash and repeat until both climbers reach the top.

I wouldn't say that I failed this one; we both made it to the first tier. I simply found my current trust limits with the rope. Though I suspect my instructor was disappointed, I was beyond satisfied that I had at least attempted it.

At the end of three days, I completed 17 of 21 attempted climbs, learned four different ways to tie a knot, set up climbs and gotten down on my own steam. I have too many bruises to count and limp pad thai noodles for arms and legs. Above all, I tested myself and pushed well beyond my limits. The view from the top was pretty amazing too.