Great Oak Gazette

Mariam Marwan M Shamel

I hear the water flowing beneath me, rushing through the lush boreal forest and releasing an aroma of pine and timber. Above, a hawk screeches while hunting its prey, circling the skies like a threat. Below, a blanket of black nothingness marks the scorched remains of a forest fire. To my right, a Great Horned Owl guards her nest, her beaming yellow pupils fixed on me. To my left, a tiny blue dot winds down the curvy mountain roads in the distance. 

My grip is strong, but my hands are bleeding. My back muscles are tightening, and I sense a cramp creeping in, so I set an anchor to hangdog. With shaky hands, I grab a carabiner and haul my weight up to clip into my harness. I barely make it, clinging to the granite for dear life while trying to ignore the 1,000-foot drop beneath my worn climbing boots. 

My watch buzzes: thirty minutes until sunset. I need to set up my portaledge for the night. The mountain air bites at my scratched cheeks, and my lips are peeling from the seemingless countless hours of heavy breathing. I’ve reached maximum steepness on the slope, and the crimps have slowly become even narrower with every thrust above. Just fifty more feet, I tell myself as my eyes scurry for the next pocket. Just fifty feet to the cliff’s ledge. 

Suddenly, my Ray-Bans hit the granite as I hug the wall, attempting to shift my fragile center of gravity; I watch the overpriced plastic shatter against the stone fall below. Even though I just lost my favorite pair of glasses, I smile and take in a deep breath of my surroundings. Nature is terrifying, but it’s beautiful, and there is no place in the world I’d rather be right now.