My First Climb

Two weekends ago, we stayed overnight in Sacramento. We were trying to avoid getting up extra early to make the long drive up. We had to be at Peak Adventures, located on the Sacramento State campus, by six a.m. for a pre-trip meeting.

We were going outdoor rock climbing. After picking up our helmets, harnesses and climbing shoes, we all piled into a big blue van for the ride to Cosumnes River Gorge. Having never climbed before, I was full of nervous energy and adrenaline.

It was a short hike to the spot. The instructors took their time explaining everything. Before anyone attempted a single climb, we all practiced tying knots (figure eights and slip), checking equipment and belaying. Every climb involved a three-person team: the climber, belayer and secondary belayer.

I was one of the first people belaying, which felt more stressful than climbing. It required focusing on the climber, the rope and one's hands. The first time my climber fell, I never reacted to something so quickly in my life. I swung the rope in my right hand behind me to apply the brakes. He dropped two feet, the amount of slack on his end of the rope. I was so relieved once he was safely back on the ground.

The instructors set up three top-rope climbs for us. They were all crack climbs. I attempted and completed two out of three. Only two people, both indoor climbers, finished them all.

I was never worried about falling. I had faith in my belayer. The instructor told everyone, "It's not a matter of if you fall. You will fall." Oddly enough, those words eased my mind. When I climbed, I lost all track of height. I wouldn't realize how high I was until reaching the top and looking back down.

My arms, fingers and feet hurt slightly for the next couple of days. The climbing shoes provided excellent friction, but my soles could feel every square inch of rough surface as though I were climbing barefooted.

Before I go outdoor climbing again, I plan to visit someplace like Planet Granite in Santa Clara. It would be beneficial to learn proper techniques. Scrambling up a wall, like I did that day, is probably not the recommended approach.

By the end, I was stoked and exhausted. We had an early dinner before heading home that evening. I reached my front door by nine p.m. or so. I dropped my bag on the floor, took a long hot shower and then conked out on a bed that never seemed softer.