The air was thick with Juniper as we ascended the trail opposite the mine. Upon noticing this domination of fragrance a thought flashed through my mind, “it is already done.” This moment of clarity assured me that I had prepared rightly for the send and I made a pact with myself and audibly with Kelsey as we continued up the well worn path furthering ourselves from the now deserted coal excavation project in the right fork of Joe’s Valley. I felt the great strength of those vows, as infrequently they come, but always rich in vigor and boosting confidence. We knew not the name of this problem nor it’s grade and therefore felt more intrigued by the shear size of the bloc, the contour of it’s varied shapes and it’s delicate line of holds.
The thick resinous scent of the junipers was quickly replaced by the sweet smell of various sages as we approached the boulders and the sky grew dark. The acuteness of odor made our travel light and swift and as our faithful four-legged companion bounded effortlessly through the fresh field of foxtails, I knew the struggle was over before I put hand to stone. Standing under the overhang the rain-laden darkness had penetrated the entirety of the sky and made me even more hungry to crush every hold and finish the problem first try of the day.
In the rarity of such moments I like to remember Churchill; for he has portrayed the emotion I experienced flawlessly: "I felt as if I were walking with destiny, and that all my past life had been but a preparation for this hour and this trial.”
Baited in the silence offered only to confident warriors I began my ritual, for now I was in my church, the church of stone: Arrange the pads, approach shoes off allowing my feet to cool to the proper fit of my Projects, the sound as I crush the minute particles of White Dirt deep into my hardened pads, eyes closed, the swing of my arms testing the thickness of moisture in the surrounding air and pushing the blood-energy toward the necessary extremities, deep uji breath to bring the heart rate down, relax the mind, and quell the adrenaline in my system.
“It is already done” flowed so effortlessly through me that I could not decipher whether I had just thought of it or if it had always been there, and all my skill and strength was pushed into the proper channels ready for use.
In my next realization, and with still relaxed breathing, I was standing on top and again it echoed, “It is already done.”
Before I became conscious of it, like a man possessed, I had made the first move to the small incut,
high-stepped left to the edge under my hand, matched and floated effortlessly to the jug with so much power that I could hardly believe I had subjectively done the work required. When it was finished, I could not recall how I made these effortless movements… it was as if I was being moved, as a queen on a chessboard with no hindrance in direction. I was but an object, and whether I was moved by the mover, attractor, skill, or fate: the all-encompassing feeling of unadulterated movement was my Presence and I knew instantly why I climb: mind, body, soul and nature become one, and I am finally free.
“There is an ecstasy that marks the summit of life, and beyond which life cannot rise. And such is the paradox of living, this ecstasy comes when one is most alive, and it comes as a complete forgetfulness that one is alive.” -Jack London, The Call of the Wild
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