It is strange to think that, two days from now, I will be about the furthest from Colorado that one can be on planet Earth, this time with no team or itinerary. Spontaneity has always played a significant role in my travels, but never to this degree. It is liberating to fully recognise that you have no power over the future by surrendering yourself to an environment, to allow it and your unspoken intentions to lead you in surprising directions.
Nothing has the cleansing power of releasing your grip on the future and of seeing old things from a new perspective. As I stood at the base of the rock after which my home town is named, I stared up at the wall before me, first at the typical ascent that I have climbed countless times in the past 10 years and then about 40 feet to the right of that route. I had never seen anyone on that part of the rock but I also wondered how many people had even tried to see if it were possible. Something inside of me told me that it was.
I scrambled up a quarter of the way, using laybacks in the crack to get to the next shelf. After some easy traverses, I came to Castle Rock's very own arch, which I had never noticed until today! I paused for a moment to appreciate the vibrant energy of dusk, smiling at the quaint town that surrounded me below.
Afterwards, I surveyed my options, searching for the next step in my project. Nothing to the right and left of the arch looked feasible. There was another crack to the left, but it was highly exposed and the rock looked somewhat chossy. To the right, the features began to disappear and the route became overhung. I sat in the cave, my arms hugging my legs, and craned my neck towards the sky. I could only see a marvelous sliver from where I was sitting, but that was all I needed. I knew that I could not fit through the crack by climbing straight up. But I could get in the crack and then traverse it by stemming my way across to a spot where it opened up to the face of the rock. I noticed passersby curiously staring up at me from where I had left my backpack. With a smile and a quick wave, I disappeared into the crevice above me.
From there, I successfully stemmed my way to the point where the crack opened up to the face. There was just enough room left on the boulder supporting me to stand on one leg, turn toward the rock, and mantle to the top. Because of the exposure, this was the mental crux of the climb. ...I took one breath in, one breath out.... All anxieties dissipated as softly as dandelion seeds scattering in a gentle breeze. In one swift motion, I swung my left leg over and pressed against the rock with the palms of my hands. I stood up and took my first step on the top, beholding the sun in the very moment that it tucked behind the horizon with a feeling of happiness and gratitude that is hard to describe.
As I watched the sun descend to the west, a wave of peace overcame me. I knew that it was time to travel East. Soon, I will begin my journey toward this unexplored horizon.
