First Descents: Graduation Day Part 2: Onward & Upward

“Real friends are very special, but you have to be careful because sometimes you have a friend and you think they are made of rock, then suddenly you realise they're only made of sand.”
- Maria Callas

I wasn't expecting the burn. No, my muscles weren't burning, nor was my skin burning. It was my shins and calves. They were scorching with pain as I scraped the flesh off bit by bit against the rock. I hear some of my friends referring to it as the "cheese grater." But I have no choice - my legs are so much thicker, and carrying a much greater burden that I have to use every inch of flesh on them in the climb - whether it be kneeling and pulling my way up, dragging the skin against the rough surface of rock, or standing up straight, allowing the razor to shred skin off. I wince with every maneuver, but there is no choice. I must go up.

By now, we're between one third to halfway up the rock. We climb section by section in a rotation - grey ropes first, red ropes second, green ropes third, purple rope last. I'm the first red rope - red stripe - so I'm the third to climb each section. Some sections go smoothly and swiftly - my climbing skills have increased since Day 1, and I'm not afraid of any of these rocks. Some I struggle with, requiring McStillin to boost me by either placing a foot or two onto an invisible foothold while I concentrate on holding my body up over a ledge or by, gawd bless him, using his hands to shove my sorry ass over a hump in the rock.

At the moment, there is a pine tree whose wiry roots have woven a nest for itself in the crease of the rock. A light purple rope with loops tied into it every few inches dangling my way, hanging off the tree. A teal mesh ladder hangs down from the tree as well, and my left foot is trying to stabilize itself. The ladder is loose - closer to a net, so my weakened ankles keep rolling from one side to the other, putting me at the risk of a sprain or worse every time I put pressure on it. Poor McStillin, whose nose, I'm quite certain, is halfway into my anus, is trying to position my foot in such a way to prevent that rolling so I can take the pressure off my forearms, now mantling this ledge.

"I think this counts as our third date, McStillin."

"Yep."

"Am I good to go?"

"I think so. On the count of three. 1... 2... 3..."

I stand on my left, slowly, feeling another ribbon of skin tearing off my leg and I place my right foot next to my right hand, allowing me to take my right hand and wrap it around the purple rope in between loops. In my mind, I repeat, "Happy little tree!" as I watch the pine tree ache, with roots quivering, and tiny bits of grit sliding my way. I drag my left leg up in a similar fashion, and I reach up, over several loops knowing that the rope will give a bit, and pull with every inch of my body. Little Bits stands over me, cheering me on, and I see Spare Parts pacing, in what appears to be impatience, looking over the rocks above me, his jowls taught until he retreats back to the cluster of ropes. In one move, I swing my left arm around the base of the pine tree, dislodge my left foot from the ladder, swing my right arm around the tree, and schmear my right foot while my left foot flattens against the rock. I rise, standing, and I hear some clapping.

"Yeah, Hit 'n' Run! Yeah!"

"Whoop, whoop!"

"Thank you, little tree," and I lean over and hug the tree. I toe my way to the left, then up, then to the right and join Mermaid, Hot Pink & Spare Parts. At this point, despite the slightly mirrored lenses he wore, you could see the ballet of multicolored ropes Spare Parts is choreographing in his mind as each climber, associated with yet another rope in his tangle of ropes and caribiners, makes progress up the rock. McStillin comes up next, and he tells him to go under one rope, stand over another, untwist another pair of ropes, and then help belay so he can get ready to set up the next climb.

I apologize again to my new boyfriend, McStillin (after all, I think it's safe to say that after our third date, we're exclusive), for making him have to shove his hands into the bulbous mass of my ass. He laughs, shakes his head, and says it's a pleasure. I purr and tell him I look forward to our fourth date, but I think I have to introduce him to my parents next. Lilac crests the rock next, and Spare Parts bounds down, shouting placement instructions to Lilac and McStillin. Lilac and McStillin dance around the ropes until they take their places.

I sit back, and find I'm still struggling to breathe. Could the chemo have caused this much damage to my lungs? This week, surely, has tested my aerobic threshold more than anything since last October, but this is absurd. My concern grows as I feel that rattle that my son gets when he's on the verge of a major asthma attack. Earlier in the ascent, McStillin took my backpack with his, and he's in the middle of some double-belaying - I can't ask him to give me my pack yet. Unfortunately, that means no water. I close my eyes and try and slow down my breathing - in through the nose, out through the mouth.

I clap and cheer folks on as they tumble over the last ledge, regroup, and get ready for the next ascent. Little Bits, already anticipating my need for the ladder, sets it up. Mermaid & Hot Pink head up - I see Hot Pinks delicate hands and feet start to quake - she's starting to fatigue on her right side. I cheer her on, even giving her butt cheek a boost McStillin style. She and I have a lot in common, not the least of which is that we're the most recently out of treatment. Hot Pink's hair is a little bit farther behind mine in progress of regrowth, but we're both still feeling the effects of chemo. It wasn't until this trip, actually, that I'd realized I was still recovering - I mean, I knew it would take a full year for the toxins to leave my body, and that the weight gained during chemo would take a while, but this is different. I think there was a mutual empathy at the realization that our hairstyles were not lifestyle choices, but still the aftereffects of a battle thrust upon us, ready or not.

That's kind of how I was feeling on this trip at times - that there were challenges thrust upon me, ready or not. The difference was that I invited this adventure, barbs and all. I was not, however, thrilled with this breathing situation.

The next ledge was deceptively tricky. I literally held myself up by the boobs (the real testament to Dr. Nordberg's skills - would they, literally, hold up?). You see, my fingers slipped from the handholds, my feet couldn't find anything to grip, and the rope had gotten tangled and caught in a crevice in the rock. So I hung by the tatas. (Good thing they are silicone - good grip!)

"McStillin - Time for date number four!" and, without missing a beat, he was there, helping me get my feet into a place from which I could boost myself up, grabbing onto the purple knotted rope and hoisting my sorry ass over this ledge. I crawled up, yay more grated skin, and got to the next climb. There was Spare Parts, pacing, muttering, grumbling in between the rocks, but I also saw some of the other gals from another group! We were nearing the top and regrouping! Cool! They were sitting, backs against a large rock, relaxing. Sidetrack was there... Three J... and I think Snapjacks?

I don't even bother telling Spare Parts that I'm climbing at this point - he seems to know that as soon as one rope quivers, it's time to tighten the slack. Besides, I keep getting that command wrong. "Red rope climbing... er... red stripe... on belay? Oh, hell, I'm coming up, Parts!" is usually all that I ended up blurting out. This climb was easy except for the last bit. I pull myself up, must have looked a bit like Kilroy, and no one is paying attention.

"Hellooooooo? What's next?" Nothing. I shrug (at least in my head, I'm a little occupied,) and I climb over the last bit, sitting in the clearing. I look over and see Whatevs and Three J kind of meditating on this landing they found, Sidetrack bubbling as usual with Hot Pink, and I realize I'm hungry. And thirsty. McStillin comes over and I ask if, for our fifth date, he can take me out to lunch. He gets my backpack out of his and I pull out my cheese sandwich and apple and my water bottle. I scarf down the sandwich, despite the near choking I experience as I literally inhaled my food, start drinking (but it's not going down), and pull out my apple. I'm feeling good - quite good - despite the trickles of blood dripping down my legs. But that's no biggie, despite the gawks I get from the others. I tell them the truth - that I'm so used to bleeding that I don't even notice anymore. (Like, at the beginning, when Ranier insisted on putting a band-aid on the first cut. I laughed and told her it wouldn't be the last and that it wasn't worth it.)

I'm just about to have something to drink and eat my apple when we're told to get up and keep moving. We look off to the distance and we see that strange grey streaking in the sky - there's rain in the mountains. (I'd never seen anything like that before this trip. I'd seen rain clouds - heavy, dark, pregnant with rain, but I'd never seen what it looks like with the clouds birth the sheets of rain of a storm). Where there's rain, there's going to be thunder and lightning. I reluctantly close up my water bottle, of which I've had 1 or 2 swigs at the max, pack that and the remaining lunch back into my backpack and McStillin snatches it away. I do decide I am going to keep my apple, so I start eating it as we casually walk on some soft ground towards the next bit of climbing. This doesn't look too bad at all, with the exception of a short slope around a tree - there are two paths to take - one to the left and one to the right of the tree's girth. The more advanced team is going on the right, whereas Parts & Bits have laid our ropes to the left. From where I stand, the right looks easier, but I've learned to take their words for it.

Soon enough, it's my turn. I already have my fair share of pine tree sap globules clinging to me, including a nice blob on my ass, so it's no surprise that I now have some under my breasts, where I had to wrap both arms around the stump jutting out of the side of the rock, as I climbed my way past the tree. I realized this is the closest I'd ever gotten to climbing a tree when I use that same stump as a boost up the rock. Now, I'm in familiar territory. It's an oversized rock garden - no biggie - I just have to pick which rocks to use as my steps. I hope from rock top to rock top in ascension with as little struggle as I would on a water hike at camp, going from one dry rock top to another, crossing this invisible river of mountain air.

Finally, as I reach the last wall of rock to climb over, I peer over and see Spare Parts, who is encouraging me, (I hear Little Bits also sounding surprised at my agility in this last bit), and a few more folks from other teams. This is the top. I've done it. I was elated, or at least I should have been, but once I get to the peak, something is off. I'm woozy. I'm cold. I'm coughing. I'm shaky. I'm quivering.

Which is just plain stupid. I reach into my backpack to get my 2011 LIVESTRONG Ride for the Roses pullover jacket, and in horror, I realize I left it in the van. My breathing feels so labored, but I'm not tired - yes, I worked out, but I didn't work out. It has to be the altitude - there is no other reason for this. I shake as I pull on the long-sleeved dri-fit top I threw in my pack for some protection as the cold rain starts. I'm not in a good way. I make my way down some rocks to sit, and I try and find something to eat that I find appetizing, but nothing really appeals to me. I look to my right, and I see Spare Parts setting up the rappel.

CRAP! I'd forgotten about the rappel back down! Ugh.

I see folks starting to line up. I look up to Lilac and say, "So this is how a lemming feels..." No response. Oh, dear. I've lost my funny.

A couple of people get hooked up and repel down. I'm not even sure who, because I'm distracted by Little Bits making direct eye contact with me and drawing me to him with his index finger. In true Hollywood fashion, I look around me to see who he's looking at, point at myself with a quizzical look on my face (like I didn't already know the answer), and ask, "Me?" Little Bits nods and my heart jumps out of my chest, through my throat, and into next week.

"Dead Man Walking," I say to myself in my head as I walk past these well-meaning individuals cheering me on. Two Dogs, our camp dad, is suiting up. He's supposed to go down along with me. It's a blur of flesh tones and identical shoes until I am nearly blinded by the glimmer of light beaming from Spare Part's grin. I can't tell if this is meant to be reassuring, or his sadism creeping through as he is about to spin me down another rappel. My heart has returned to its home, beating like a hummingbird's wings and I feel all the blood rush to my fingertips. I have a sudden urge to poo. I start quivering, ever so slightly, from my bowels to my chest. My hairs stand on edge.

Little Bits puts his hand gently, reassuringly, on my shoulder, and it feels as though he's Freddy Kruger digging razorblades into my flesh, as he asks if I'm ready to do this. Through a clenched jaw, I say, "Not really." He smiles - he's such a kind soul, he's trying so hard to make this easy for me - and says it's ok, that I can trust them, it's going to be great, etc. I grit my teeth harder, which I think is mistaken for a smile, and I get the sensation that all of my inner organs have just been swallowed up by a black hole and are no longer in my body. At this point, the body quake is slowly making its way through my pelvis and shoulders. My clavicle is chattering. Before I know what's happening, Spare Parts and Little Bits have me clipped into things, I'm attached to something else, and McStillin is there.  I just keep looking at the rope, onto which my fingers are wrapped like wires melding into a tree they were wrapped around for too long. I hear voices, but they aren't making sense. I just see the rough, multicolored textures of the granite slabs I'm on and that are surrounding me. The sun must have come out, because things are more golden and less steely now.

I hear Little Bits tell me to walk backwards. I take a step back. It's a decent step - a good 4 inches. I think he wraps an arm around my shoulder - I'm not sure - as now all of my skin is as numb as the tissue now enveloping the silicone implants - I can feel a semblance of pressure, but not much else. More words of encouragement, now coming from all directions, but I can't really tell which direction I'm in. McStillin's face comes into focus, and just behind his is Spare Parts, who, for the first time since I've met him, shows a bit of concern - the cockiness has fallen away. I feel a spin coming on as something starts dropping onto my lips, my chest, and sounds come out of my mouth that I can't recognize. The saltiness tells me that I'm now crying, and I don't know what I'm saying - I'm deafened by the silent spin I feel. My feet - I focus on my feet, which feel like they are filled with lead, and all I can manage to do as I near the edge is shuffle backwards 1 inch.... half an inch... maybe a quarter inch... are they moving at all? Have my feet melded into the rock? Voices are getting louder, and I just get more and more confused.

"NO!" Did I just shout that? "I can't! I can't! I can't do it!"

Who the hell said that? It must have been me, because now there are shadows coming around me, telling me I can, that it won't be so bad... and that's when the burning from the black hole of my bowel starts to surge upwards. There's a rush of nothing good. I feel like I'm going to choke. I don't know if I'm crying or screaming or silent, but all I know is that the next thing I'm off the ledge, with Snapjacks by my side, the monkey, which had been attached to my harness all day, in my hand, shaking.

My brain is still in slow motion, processing what happened moments prior to me being back in the clearing - I just now hear Little Bits say, "If you promise to go the next time it's your turn, we'll let you get off now." I think I said that I would. Shit. What was I thinking? Oh my G-d, I did - I promised him - I looked him in the eye... oh no... I scramble to get up as I start to cough and cough. I can't breathe and I start to heave. Snapjacks holds me as I throw up invisible rivers of fire, phlegm, apple, my sandwich, and water in between a few rocks and some bushes.

I need to lie down. I am having the most horrible out-of-body experience I've had. I can't make sense of where I am or what's happening.

Things start to come into focus a bit more. I'm lying down, sideways, on a rock. It's not comfortable. Snapjacks is off to the side. The guides are by the ledge. I feel the sun on my face. I feel like I've been punched in the gut by The Thing over and over and over again. I think I'm still breathing, but it hurts when I do.

I can't remember if I get up on my own or at the prompting of someone else, but I manage to stand. When I become aware of what's still ahead of me, the heaving begins again. I'm then reminded of my promise. Snapjacks offers to go down with me, and I shake my head. She can't handle this.

I overhear voices... "panic... threw up... not good... only way... " and I don't like any way those words and phrases can be pieced together. My head feels like it weighs 500 pounds. Little Bits tells me it's time, and like the bobble head that I feel like, I start to walk over. Spare Parts now has his sunglasses off, and I can see in his eyes his dry humor is nowhere in sight - he's got his game face on. This is serious. Little Bits light eyes are glistening, and his brow is furrowed in thought. Two Dogs isn't there - he must have gone down before me.

I have McStillin on one side and Little Bits on the other, and I become aware of ropes connecting the three of us. That fine line between reality and fantasy blurs again and I think someone explains they are both going with me - one in front, one in back. I don't remember the purpose. Spare Parts is belaying us down. I think I'm nodding in response to something, but I'm not sure. Everything goes numb again. I start walking backwards. At least I think I am.

And then there's a tug at my back. Like someone is pulling my underwear towards them. I scream - I don't even know what. Another tug, and now I am nothing but a giant reflex. I plant my feet, drop my weight, and lean forward as hard as I can. There's more tugging, and I lunge for a hole at the tips of my toes. I dig my fingertips as deeply as I can and pull. More tugging and yanking. I'm screaming, "NO!" at the top of my lungs.

Body weight on me. I'm completely helpless under him. My shoulders are pinned. I'm screaming and nothing is happening. His hand is over my mouth and no one can hear me. I can't breathe and my mind escapes through the ceiling of my dorm room.

Wait. What the fuck was that? I'm holding onto this rock, but my finger tips begin to slip. I leap forward, chest first, at another rock, and I am able to wrap my arms around it completely, almost locking my fingers together. There's another strong pull from the back. Men's voices are shouting.

Each one has a limb - one has a leg, another has an arm, a third has my other leg and a fourth has my other arm. They are pulling me down, forcing me onto a gurney. One comes out of nowhere with straps and buckles.

I get dizzy and I'm back in that dorm room, his shadowy figure above, with no air for me to breathe. I can't believe I've been overtaken. I've never met anyone from whom I couldn't wrestle away. But he's so overwhelmingly strong. Am I even fighting him? Everything goes black.

"We're so sorry - it's the only way to get you down!"

"Please trust us!"

The sun is on my face, drying the water streaming, but the screams aren't stopping. "NO!"

I press my cheek into the rock. I don't care if I shred my face, I'm not being forced into this.

The officer tries to swipe my legs out from under me. I outmaneuver him. Another officer comes from the side, but all I can do is break free. Four in all are keeping me from that bridge. I'm stronger than this. I've taken greater than this. I'm jumping off that bridge if it's the last thing I do. Two on each side, and I'm the Incredible Hulk, dragging them along towards the edge. I just want to go over. I just want to fall. Metal snaps and my wrists are being cut to shreds.

"I SAID NO!" I screamed, as I hear the metal of the caribiners rubbing against the rock, and the tugging continues around my waist. To my right is a small hole between the rocks. I slide, as though it weren't gnarled chunks of rock I'm slipping my already torn up legs through, but a child's water slide. I wedge myself in and find another rock to hold tight.

I just want to die. He kicked me out of his house. Of his life. Despite his protests that it will just be a matter of time, I know. I know it will never happen again, in my gut. I'll never speak to him again, rather, he'll never speak to me. Our friendship is over. The man who taught me so many years ago the mantra that kept me moving forward through so much, "Trust your feet," who had become one of my closest friends, who promised to never break our friendship, broke every promise. He broke everything. He shattered my trust over nothing. And he was so "over it" that his eyes were cold and callous. Those same eyes that made me feel safe time and time again were full of vitriol and hate. I was done. I just got so foggy...  

I didn't really want to die. But I didn't want to disappoint him. But I sure as hell didn't want to die right now. And jumping off that ledge? It's suicide. It's the bridge. It's that night. No. I can't face what I was going to do. I don't want to die anymore.

 These men are holding me down, forcing me in the direction they want. It has taken more than one to do it, but I'm yielding despite every inclination I have. Every muscle in my body is lurching forward, but theirs are heavier and greater than mine. Darkness.

I won't be overtaken.

I can smell the vodka. And who knows what else. I can feel the palms of his hands forcing my shoulders down. He seems to have grown 3 feet and 1,200 pounds since we met at the bar. I can't move. I can't budge. Every attempt to break lose forces him to cause me more pain. Every wriggle yields a new punishment.

"I SAID NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

And it stopped. It all stops. There is no pulling at my waist. There is no more talking. No more dizziness. No one is moving. I look up, and McStillin, Little Bits and Spare Parts are motionless, frozen in their position with my blood curdling exclamation. For the first time in what feels like hours, my shoulders relax.

"Ok."

"What?"

"Ok. We're stopping."

"Ok. You'll stop pulling me?"

"Yes."

"Ok."

Shaking, spent, exhausted, I ease my way out of my retreat and slump over the rocks. I overhear them, "Can we sedate her?"

"Do we have any medication or something?"

"No, we don't."

"Is there something we can give her?"

"No, nothing."

"There's only one way down."

"I know."

I pant on the rocks.

Little Bits comes over and says, "Look, if we could get you down any other way, we would."

McStillin apologizes, "We didn't want to force you over, but we really didn't have much of a choice - it's actually the safest, and fastest way back down."

"The alternative makes no sense," Spare Parts continues, "We could call for rescue, but it would take hours, cost thousands, and all they'll do is have a net and you'll still be rappelled down the side. That's going to be worse"

I look at all of them, broken, and just say, "But that's not going to happen."

There's an unpleasant silence as we see a flash of lightning.

We really do have to get moving.

"Can't you just let me walk back down?"

"No," all three in unison say.

"Why not?"

"Because," Little Bits explains, "there's no other way down, except the way that you came."

"Ok."

"'Ok,' what?"

"Let me go down the way I came up."

"That's crazy."

"Why? I know the way... I did it once before going up. Going down would be easier!"

Little Bits, the most experienced answers, "Don't you remember how hard you struggled on the way up?"

"Yeah."

McStillin chimes in, "All those boosts you needed from me?"

"Yeah."

Spare Parts looks me in the eye for what seemed to be an eternity, saying nothing, like he'd just discovered a wounded deer in the forest and he was having a connection with its soul. He closes his eyes, nods, looks at Little Bits and says, "Ok."

I hear whispering, and I think another guide is there, and the group comes back.

Little Bits explains, "Here's the deal. We're going to climb down the way we came. There will be some rappelling down, but nothing like this. This is so much harder than just rappelling down. Are you sure about this?"

Feeling like a child who was just given the most shiny, expensive, perfect toy in the world, I giddily respond, "YES!"

I really don't think that the guides, or McStillin, know what to do with me, but we start off. I feel like I have sea legs, like they aren't really worthy of standing, but the adrenaline from the joy of knowing I don't have to rappel down that cliff is enough to keep me going.

"Parts, hang on. How are you going to belay me? You way nothing."

"Don't worry about it."

There's a moment when the other guys are conversing and it's just me and Spare Parts.

"You really weren't going down that edge, were you."

"No."

"You're bad ass."

"Why?"

"We're climbing down this thing. I've got you, you know that, right?"

"Yep."

"Ok."

I start down the rocks, and I'm feeling much greater tightness in the rope now than before I went up.

"Spare Parts, a little slack?"

"I'm keeping you tight to the rock."

"Yeah, I know, but I kinda can't move or breathe!"

Spare Parts loosens the rope a bit, and I'm scurrying down over the overgrown rock garden, through the first landing, and down another bit of rocks. The guides catch up and look at me like I have three heads. I don't know if they think I had faked everything at the top of the rock (which, believe you me, I hadn't) or if I'm completely insane. But they're all pretty happy I'm moving. We get to the tree with the two paths.

"McStillin, Little Bits - which side should I go down?"

"I'll go down first and then help you," McStillin answers. He goes down and helps me get down along the right. A few more crab walks and Again shows up out of nowhere from around a rock. I guess some of the whispering included a phone call to the other guides. I start down towards where we'd climbed, and Again says, "Let's take this way."

Uh, excuse me, Again, but you're late to the party. The theme is "Go Down Something I've Gone Down Before," not, "New Territory."

"Trust me, this way is faster. Look, you'll have to rappel some of this either way, and it's about the same distance down this way, but it will save time. We really have to move."

I nod (I think to the surprise of everyone), and I turn towards the rock. I look up to make sure Spare Parts is ready.

Intensely, he looks at me and says, "Look me in the eyes." I do - there is no breaking that gaze. "I have you. I am not going to let you fall. Give your heart to the skies." I nod. "Now, just look at me - don't take your eyes off mine." I nod, as though in a trance.

Staring at him, I lean back into a sit position, and I feel my harness change from a restraint into a comfortable seat. I hop back and feel myself drop. I move my feet downward, looking Parts in the eyes the whole time, and move down the rock. As he falls farther and farther away, I lower my feet and I'm on the ground. Done.

Spare Parts flashes his signature smile, Again, Little Bits and McStillin have a nervous chuckle and clap and cheer me on.

All of a sudden, I hear a chorus of, "Whoop whoops" and applause. I turn around and look down. In the distance, the entire First Descents camp is watching the show. I grab the monkey off my butt and wave him in the air, returning the, "Whoop-whoop!" battle cry.

The rest of the guides come down and we continue on, only with this next rappel, I immediately lean back, no hesitation, staring at Spare Parts, and wave the monkey. We keep moving, and before any of us know it, Glass holds a tray of cupcakes with one left.

"We saved it for you."

I made it down. The guides come down after me, and I just hug them all. Parts comes up and says, "Ok, we'll ease you down the rest of the way."

"Parts, as much as I genuinely enjoy being  tied up to you, I don't think it's necessary."

"Ok, you can clip out."

"Nah... I kinda like you leading me along by a leash." I wink at him and we make it down to the vans together.

Those men, those amazing men - Little Bits, Spare Parts, McStillin and Again - have no clue (until now) of what kind of a panic attack they were dealing with at the top of that rock. I'm still processing it myself. Perhaps that's why they seemed a bit surprised at how grateful I was to them at the end of the day.

When the four of us got together for a picture after dinner, I held them all and said, "I don't know what I'm going to do when I get home without you three. You're my heroes."

I hope, someday, they'll understand in how many ways I mean that. And how, strangely, this particular climb was meant to conquer issues remaining from cancer, but, in my case, attacked fears that long pre-existed cancer.

First Descents Day 2: Rock on Out

After my meltdown on Day 1, I was determined to do one of two things: 1) Not to cry again 2) Not to start something and not finish it. No way. It was time for my salvation on the rocks. I diligently packed 3 water bottles, left all books behind, and was set to climb.

We reached our destination only to be met by 2-3 spaces being taken by a busted up silver Subaru Outback. Some tool decided to occupy some of the precious few parking spots with this contraption. Spare Parts ran up (seriously, does this guy have a built in cannula feeding him oxygen & vapor steroids? Damn!) to see what the situation was. Sure enough, as soon as we were wondering around the parking area, the decision is for us to relocate and find another rock to climb.

We pack back into the vans and go back to Mary's Lake where we climbed on Day 1, with constant guide reassurances that we would be climbing different rocks. Indeed, these were not only different, but the rocks were facing one another rather intimately, which proved beneficial in that we were even closer to one another as we climbed. Without question, as we reflected later that day, the ability to look over your shoulder while mid-climb to be able to check on and cheer on a peer provided a wonderful bonding opportunity. To make things even more exciting, we were joined by the incredible Chris Anthony, aka "Chopper," former pro-cyclist, skier, star of 18+ Warren Miller films, photographer, and all-around amazing adventurer, who supports First Descents, chose to document our journey. What a privilege - to not only adventure with Chris, but be a subject in his lens and be part of the story he was telling!

I was just about ready to climb, but that uneasy feeling of being over my head started to set in again. I didn't want to fail. I didn't want to let anyone down. I didn't want the First Descents folks to feel like I was overwhelmed and miserable. I didn't want anyone to feel obliged to cheer me on - you know, that pity-support. So, I jumped at the chance to belay Wildflower & McStillin on the most advanced rope set up. That way, I could contemplate what I was dealing with, see how my fellow climbers handled things, and assess how I could attack the climbs.

Besides, I enjoy belaying people. I really do. I get to understand the climb better. It's as though I can sit back and have a screen in front of me of the climb and I get to take a grease pencil to the screen and draw my lines. I can help map things out for the person I'm belaying at the same time that I can figure out my own route. (Not that I had any intention of climbing this particular peak.)

Wildflower - Photo by Chris Anthony

First, Wildflower went up with a spider-monkey-like climbing style. He's all wiry, flexible, long-limbed and quick. Despite being several inches shorter than McStillin, he could stretch in so many amazing ways! All four limbs were nearly always on a parallel ledge after every move - rarely was he sprawled out. Very stealthy. Very ninja like.

Prepping to belay McStillin
 - Photo by Chris Anthony

Then came McStillin. McStillin is easily taller than 6 foot, much stockier, and, on appearance, doesn't look like the most flexible guy in the world. But as limber as Wildflower is, McStillin is powerful. Where Wildflower started the climb way off to the side in a sitting position, almost using me on belay in a reverse rappel, McStillin just reached up like an NBA player slamming a dunk shot and pulled himself up. The rock became his ladder, and he climbed it as though he were just heading up into his treehouse. What took Wildflower 6 moves to weave up the rock, McStillin accomplished in the same time within 2 or three simply because of his vertical advantage. His style was choppier, but stronger. And equally successful, using a different approach, as Wildflower.

Before I have a chance to come off belay, Little Bits catches my attention and directs me towards the other rock. There, I see a happy little rock, no ledges, no roofs, just a nice sloped rock. I asked if that was for me, and nodded. I clipped in and went. I learned some new techniques, including "smearing," which I explained to Little Bits, since I'm a Jew from New York, will henceforth be known as "schmearing," mantling, etc. I traverse the rock a bit, reach up, and then I've touched the caribiner. It was a piece of cake.

I come down, giddy from my success, and I try and attempt the climb next to me. The real challenge of the neighboring, more advanced climb is the start. It's smooth for the first 7-10 feet. There are no real hand holds/foot holds. Off to the right is a crag formed by the main rock and a boulder upon which several of us were hanging out. My strategy is to make use of this crag and climb up that way, then traverse to the left back onto the main rock.

I forgot to mention the bushes. The bushes, that, despite the lack of thorns, are some of the most prickly things I've felt against my skin in a long time. I come up a few feet, and I get my right leg well situation with a solid foot hold. The challenge arises with the next move - where do I put my left foot? I try schmearing (no lox) my left foot, but that doesn't work. I try stepping up, with my left foot by my elbow, but the angle left to straighten my right leg is too great. Finally, I try and use the small space between the boulder and the main rock. My rope is tightened as I start to move, and then I hear a faint, but distinct *POP* and a sharp, unfamiliar pain shoots up the front of my right knee cap. I realize that as I straightened my right leg, my right foot remained slightly turned in towards the left, but my right knee was clearly pointed outward towards the right. The pop occurred as I was trying to align the joints, but neither wanted to budge. I wail, "STOP! SLACK!" and I slink back down to the ground. Something is wrong with my right knee. With some help, I hobble over to a comfortable rock, and Little Bits & McStillin help me secure an ice pack from Ranier, our medic. I set the ice on my knee and work through with McStillin and Ranier what I did to my knee. Sharp pain when pressure is put on the outside, top right of the knee cap. I can't bend the knee fully.

I have a long history of bad knees - left and right - though left is typically the most difficult knee. But this was a bit different. It wasn't the usual pain. It was sharper and more focused. I couldn't believe it - could I have dislocated my knee? This wasn't a hamstring issue, like I've had cycling. This wasn't a knee cap moving like I used to playing basketball. I just needed to breath through it. Relax. Sense what's happening. I sit, pissed, waiting for the ice to do its magic so I can get back up there. I watch Ranier start an advanced rope set up by Spare Parts, just below where Chopper is taking photos. I look over and Vagabond is starting a climb, along with Glass and Sidetrack. I watch, plotting the courses ahead of each of the individuals in my mind the way that we see instant replays assessed on TV during the Super Bowl - with that imaginary magic marker leaving trails of solid white and yellow, marking the players locations and paths. Vagabond abandons the yellow line I'd plotted for him, and he gets stuck. My mind's eye screen clears and resets a new path for Vagabond. He moves forward and struggles. I look over to Ranier, and she's moving along course.

I'm chomping at the bit to get back onto the course, as I return to the rock that I was last on, and Glass is past the part where I got stuck on the green rope. She figured it out and I missed it. Damn. But she's moving strong. That's it. I gotta go at this.

I stand up and put pressure on the knee. It's not happy, but it's not rebelling. Keeping the ice pack on, I start leaning into the rock, stretching and feeling around for how the knee cap is settling. I know that if I can put body weight on my right leg, it's not dislocated. So it's functional. I start to bend the knee into a lunge. Not as bad as before, but not feeling great. But I can grin and bear this. McStillin, also a medic, looks back and sees me stretched and shouts back, "A little PT for the knee, Hit & Run?" I grit my teeth, smile, and say, "Yep!"

Glass finishes the green and comes down, and I scurry to the top (in the interim, Lilac, who'd fractured her toe the day before, has run through the red line), and clip into the red ropes. Little Bits raises an eyebrow, and I ask if I can run red one more time before trying green again. Little Bits explains that he was thinking that rather than starting with green from the bottom, that we try something new - I'd be clipped into both lines, start red, then traverse the rock and finish with green. I look, visualize where I have to go, and decide that's perfect. I ask to do a trial run of red one last time, this time, rather than taking the course of least resistance as I did the last time, to find a more challenging path. Little Bits agrees, as he calls McStillin over to get ready to belay me on green.

I clip in and call back, "On belay?" I hear back, "Belay on," from Little Bits reassuring voice. I can't put my finger on it, but there is just something so inherently soothing about Little Bits tone. There's a positive lilt to his voice, with a solid, manly timbre, but a comforting, arms around your shoulders quality. He sounds like the older brother I never had whenever he speaks - and not the obnoxious, "I stole all your underwear and hit it under my bed" kind of older brother, but the older brother that is full of encouragement, protection and awe. I forget to shout back, "Climbing" to wait for permission to move and I start climbing. Little Bits calls up, "Climb on!" I start moving up.

I see, off to the left, some dark rock and a crack near the exchange between the red and the green lines. I also see a more challenging path to the top of the red, so I opt for that route. I start moving to the left, laterally, so I can get some more schmearing practice, and I then, rather than reaching and pulling  up with my arms, I realize the ledge at my hips gives me better upward motion, so I place my hands palms down and push up until I lift my lower body up and get my right foot on the lip. Little Bits shouts up, "Good move! That's called 'mantling'!" Confidence level boosts up one notch. I keep moving, and before I know it, the caribiner is being smacked against the rock and I'm shouting down, "Coming down!" From across the way, and from the ravine, this Hit & Run person is getting whoops. Then I realize that I'm Hit & Run. I rappel down, and then clip into the green line.

Sidetrack is still working the line next to the green, and Ranier is still working that complicated ledge. Three J, however, seems stuck on the face where I belayed Wildflower & McStillin. It's the first time I've seen her struggle. I cheer her and Ranier on. Sidetrack seems to be in a zone, and I know how hard it is, sometimes, to get into that zone, so I opt out of calling out her name. (Besides, she earned her camp name, I don't dare 'sidetrack' her.)

When I realize that by clipping into two lines, I'm tied to two men, the naughty side of me comes out. "It's a good day when I'm tied up to two men!" I shout out! McStillin blushes, Little Bits laughs. A few more heads turn. Scenes from "Fifty Shades of Grey" start flashing across my mind, and I'm getting revved up. "OK, boys, ready to hoist me up? Let's get climbing!"

I start going up the red line, following the path I took the second time as I had familiarized myself with the rock. As I get closer to the dark grey patch I'd noted before, Little Bits calls up and suggests a slight change in course. I follow his direction, as now not only am I more confident in this rock, but I'm more confident in my skills as well as hanging in the harness, as I'd seen Three J dangle off the side of the rock, sitting back as though stepping away to regain her approach. I look over to see Ranier getting closer and closer to getting the knot at her harness touching the caribiner - Spare Parts' challenge. I look to my left, and Sidetrack is still scaling the rock, and we're almost side-by-side. Ranier is an agile climber. Her gracefully long arms and legs compliment her strong and lean figure beautifully for this sport. Her fingers seem to have suction cups - every handhold she attempts conforms to her skin. Grit teeth, the occasional grunt, and I can tell she's in a bind in the last 2 yards of this climb.

Photo by Chris Anthony

Chopper is leaning back, shooting her between his knees, which Little Bits and I joke would make a great photo when she makes the final move - her head will be right in his crotch - and I wish I could be above him with a second camera to capture that shot. The dirty jokes come flowing. Vagabond is attacking the same rock that bested him earlier in the day. Three J has just found a small landing and has made a little nest for herself. Sidetrack is now out of the zone and equally interested in what's going on in our small canyon of climbing cancer survivors, so I take the opportunity to call out her name and cheer her on. We both shout over to Vagabond, who's clearly still stumped on this peace of rounded rock that runs from his collarbone to just above his knee. I'm not expert, but I'm also not seeing any clear footholds for him. I'm just as stumped for him as he is. I call out, "Come on, Vagabond!" and I turn back to Ranier. As much as I want to continue to climb and finish the traverse, I want to see Ranier throw back into Spare Parts' face that her knot met the caribiner. Mermaid, our FD photographer, a wild child surfer chick from California, who's half Israeli and endowed with that stunning, rich chocolate Israeli hair that thickens and lengthens at will, sunkissed with golden threads, and the chillest attitude ever, is positioning herself to capture the shot I wish I could.

Ultimately, I realize that Ranier is going to be taking baby steps, so there's enough time for me to finish my traverse from the red rope to the green, so I go back to the task at hand - hitting the dark grey rock and maneuvering to the green path. It's a bit of a stretch, but those lateral moves, no matter how challenging, are so much easier for me than the vertical moves. I look back to see how Ranier is doing, and I see Chopper has just taken a break from her and shot me. I call out to him, "Does this rock make my ass look big?" and I hear a cacophony of laughter from all directions. Chopper responds, "Nah!" and he gets back to shooting Ranier.

Traversing from Red line to Green line towards the Grey Rock
 - Photo by Chris Anthony

I know that I'm close to the top, but I can't help but pause to see how Ranier is doing. Finally, she hits it. I continue on. When I reach the next level, and a small roof, I realize how close I am to the top. Yeah, I could just reach up and go, and I think Little Bits is reading my mind because he calls up and tells me to keep going left, towards the next line over. I keep moving over and I see what he's doing - he's forcing me to try some more challenging surfaces. I hit them. I didn't struggle - I mean - I physically struggled, sure - but I didn't mentally struggle. I could do it. And I did. I made it over a small roof and I touch the caribiner. I look up, and Chopper somehow ended up above me on the rock from the other side of our little canyon. I smile, give a thumbs up, and rappel back down the rock.

Photo by Chris Anthony

I conquered the rock, the rappel, and my fears. I was content to finish the day, especially since lightning was sighted approaching us from The Diamond. It was time to start packing it up, which we did.

But I was entering our rest day with new confidence.

It was a good day.

Tomorrow is "Graduation Day." And the day I need you to have my back.

I'll fill you in on what's happened here on First Descents between Day 1 and today, but I have a request.

As you have read in my recount of Day 1, I'm facing fears that have been lifelong out here. Tomorrow is our "Graduation Day," which means attacking rocks beyond our imagination. And here's the catch - while everyone else on the trip has successfully been able to climb every route set up by our guides, I've only been able to do 2 1/2 at best. And, to do that, I had to obsessively climb and reclimb them, and 2 of them were set up just for me.

That's not going to happen tomorrow and I'm terrified. And I refuse to cry again. (I cried during yoga today.)

I need you to give me a boost. This isn't a ploy, this is the real deal. I need that push from familiar people - people who know me by my real name - to keep me going tomorrow. This is what we're climbing, and rappelling, down.

Castle Rock, Boulder Canyon, CO

As anyone who knows me knows, I have a fear of heights. I am a bit of a control freak. And I'm not naturally built for climbing. To date, I have only climbed things as high as the tree you see in the front. This is free-climbing, and rappelling down almost 3 times that. The others in the group have climbed far more advanced rocks than me.

I feel like a newly licensed driver being thrown into a race on the Autobahn with seasoned pros.

Please, show your support and consider making a donation to my LIVESTRONG Challenge account. Any amount helps. HTTP://LAF.CONVIO.NET/GOTO/RICAROCKSAUSTIN2012

First Descents Days 1

If anyone is wondering why I'm not online much, nor answering my cell phone, it's because I'm in Colorado climbing the Rocky Mountains. No, you didn't misread, I'm climbing the Rocky Mountains. I'm participating in an adventure trip for fellow cancer survivors called "First Descents." My friend, Tal, kept raving about this organization, and I think he would have boiled my kitty if I didn't ultimately go. (He's not a demanding kind of guy, but this he was pretty stern about.)

Saturday morning I boarded the flight and landed in Colorado a few hours later (during which I completed the entire first book of The Hunger Games and started Catching Fire once I got to Dallas). When I arrived in Denver, I followed the directions towards Baggage Claim where I was supposed to meet the First Descents crew. Instead, I wandered around in circles, eyes enlarged, completely lost. I had no idea where to go. An unfamiliar number called my cell, but I ignored it - I didn't have a clue. All of a sudden, I hear people calling and I look up - there is the First Descents sign. I head up to where they were bunked out, but I soon had to "Hit & Run" (which became my camp nickname - we don't go by first names - not yet), and catch up with my friend & fellow LIVESTRONG Leader, Erik Pearson, and his wife, Lynne. Erik was at the US Pro Challenge, so I didn't get a chance to see him right away (and I was quite jealous, as he was hanging with Chris Horner, possibly the chillest pro cyclist I know!). His wife picked me up, and we went to her dad's home, into which she & Erik are moving, and headed out to lunch with her sister, brother-in-law and waited for Erik and his son to join us.

Once we were all in one place, and we were regaled with tales of the US Pro Challenge, we piled into the car and headed out to Estes Park. Our destination was, first, to hit the Stanley Hotel, the most haunted hotel in the country and the inspiration for The Shining, and the remake with Steven Weber (the Nicholson/Kubrick original movie was actually filmed in Oregon). I got a couple of fantastic souvenirs (will reveal later - can't spoil the surprise!), had gelato, and took some obligatory photos. Then, we were off to Narrow Trail Ranch, our home for the next week.

Wow - what a place! This is a stunning 5-bedroom log cabin, with plenty of extra space for more beds to be set up to accomodate all of us "campers" and staffers. The kitchen is a tremendous chef's kitchen, an amazing set of decks, including one that has a hot tub, a fireplace, etc. One of my fellow campers and I share the loft - I'm sofa-couching it, but I'm happy! This place is palatial. We had a meet & greet over "Happy Hour" and then a splendid dinner of tacos - fillings included all kinds of vegetables, bison, homemade guacamole, and this incredible green rice. After dinner, we chilled out, we all got to know each other and then got to bed.

The next morning, I got up very early (as, apparently, many East Coasters do), and I helped Antelope Jamboree & Chamomile, our cooks/camp mom, make stuffed french toast. The group filled up on breakfast and headed to Mary's Lake for our first climbing outing.

The night before, the 13 of us shared that most everyone, but me, had climbing experience. I really had none. I'd gone bouldering locally years ago, but that was about it. So when I saw what was being set up for us to climb, the fear built up. The "easy" climb had a large, round piece of rock jutting out of the side. I'm sorry, but I thought that sheer, flat rock was going to be tough, let alone rocks that were convex! I started to climb, but it was not happening. The panic of climbing set in. I was way over my head. Everyone else seemed to be flying up these rocks with very little struggle. I couldn't get higher than 4 feet in the ground.

Defeated, I went to as quiet, removed part of where we were as possible, pulled out Catching Fire, determined to finish reading it, which I did. Our camp dad, Two Dogs, came over to chit chat. While talking, I explained my hesitation. Not only was I afraid of heights, but I'd been out of commission, physically, for too long. I was stressed over the expectation of being affiliated with LIVESTRONG as a leader to be the one cancer survivor in the group who excelled in athletics despite teh disease and treatment, and that I felt lost because I couldn't meet those expectations. And the fact that I hate quitting, but it was too much.

I honestly felt that I was going to miserable all week - that I'd be sitting for hours on the ground watching everyone else, just as I had on Monday. I just wished that a guide had set up a real beginner rock to work on. I started to cry, once alone, as I saw that there was such demand iun the group that the guides set up additional climbs to keep up with everyone's pace while I sat, watching, without the ability to climb anything but in and out of the minivans.

Then, Little Bits came up and told me that he'd set up a climb just for me. It was on the same rock as the most advanced climb, plus, it had a tree. I was a bit intimidated, but he assured me it was easy. I harnessed up and I started climbing. And climbing, but he assured me it was easy. I harnessed up and I started climbing. And climbing. And climbing. I hear people shouting, "You go, Hit & Run!" "Kick that rock's ass, Hit & Run!" Little Bits told me to look down, and I did. I was high up in the air. Not a little, but a lot. And I was inches away from touching the caribiner in victory. When I reached up to that metal hook upon which my life-line was hooked, I couldn't believe it. I had climbed this rock. My confidence was up.

I came down and saw that everyone was charging back to the "beginner" rock. I followed suit and discovered that Spare Parts had set up some rappelling. I decided that I would go for it.

I go on belay again, and start my descent. I'm doing fine until I get to a roof. I cannot see anything below this rock. I cannot see where to set my foot. Panic sets in. Spare Parts keeps reassuring me that he has me. He tells me to just do it. At this point, all eyes are on me. And the hysteria sets in. I'm cursing at Spare Parts, screaming, crying, snot bubbles blowing out my nose because I realize that I'm trapped. I can't go up, I can't go down. My legs won't move. I'm shaking, I'm terrified, and I'm paralyzed with fear. I can't see where my feet should go. I don't trust the equipment. This guy who weighs as much as my thigh is literally holding my life in his hands, and I've got a big drop to go.

"Trust your feet" starts echoing through my head, the mantra my old friend, a climber, taught me when we were sixteen - that same friend who got me into cycling and that hasn't spoken to me for 2 years and won't because he can't get over his anger. This makes things worse - now, not only am I hanging over a precipice, but now I'm flooded with grief and longing for a friendship that is overdue for repair that I miss terribly. So now, I'm friend-sick, terrified of the drop, feeling out of control, weighing way too much than I should, with the harness digging into me leaving what I'm sure will be wicked welts. I'm low enough to the ground and far enough from the top that I really only have one choice - GO DOWN. I'm trapped. With all eyes on me, cheering me on. "GO HIT & RUN! You can do it!" I can't type out what I said because I'm too much of a lady, but let's just say that I threw curses at the man handing the rope keeping me from falling - probably not the wisest move - and throwing profanities that would shock Robin Williams.

Then, there's a scramble at the top. Two of my caribiners clack together and there's a shift. I feel a small rock fall on me. I start panicking even more, but Spare Parts explains it was just the rope adjusting, nothing was falling, it was ok. He was cool as a cucumber (earning him the second nickname "Ice Man"). Another guide, Little Bits, rushes over with another rope and some gear. I just close my eyes, now shaking because my arms are so tired and my hands are burned from holding the rope in a death grip. Next thing I know, Little Bits is next to me, with his leg below mine guiding me below the roof. All of a sudden I feel rock beneath my toes. Slowly, we go down together and I make it to the ground.

I have no other reaction but to laugh hysterically. And I start cracking jokes.

I did it. I was done for the day.

After that, we went back to dinner and our campfire. I was floored that so many folks brought up my breakdown as their favorite moment - not because of entertainment value - though it must have been quite spectacular - but because I conquered my fear.

I don't know how much of that was me conquering a fear, but just doing what I had to do. If it helps someone else, though, that's awesome.