Kiss the Carabiner

While we were in Joshua Tree last weekend, Kevin and I went rock climbing. I've never really rock climbed before. Unless, of course, you count that one time I climbed on an indoor rock in Anderson, South Carolina. Something tells me that that setup of fake plastic rocks and some redneck yelling "Climb Cletus, Climb" while holding a beer in one hand and a belay rope in the other just isn't the scene most rock climbers are looking for. Even my good friend April who took me rock climbing that day didn't seem incredibly thrilled with the experience she was sharing with me.

Anyway, Kevin and I unloaded the truck in the middle of the Joshua Tree Desert. It had to have been at least 100 degrees and it was only 10am.
Dogs weren't allowed off the road, but we couldn't resist the chance to break the rules a little bit. We freed Marley of her leash and let her run amongst the desert creatures she'd been dying to chase. It's quite entertaining to watch her dart back and forth through the brush and sand as she chases an unsuspecting rabbit or two.

So here we are, walking through the Joshua Trees towards these amazing rock formations. With backpacks filled with gear and water bottles in our hands, we sought out the perfect rock to climb. The evening before, I had told Kevin I didn't like the feel of chalk on my hands, so today he insisted I carry the chalk bag. "Since you don't like chalk, you carry the chalk." Perhaps this was his way of making sure I bonded with the chalk before the climb. As we walked, I carefully filed my nails in preparation. For those of you who know me well, having long nails is quite unusual. I bite them, and when I don't in an attempt to make them grow, they usually break or peel. However, on this particular day my nails were long. I'd spent the last two weeks putting some form of Sally Hansen Miracle Grow on them and it was finally paying off. As I filed them down to their usual stubby state, I noted the irony of the situation.

We found one particular rock that didn't look too difficult to climb. Later I'd quickly learn that a rock's appearance is often deceiving. It looked easy, but for this first-timer, it was not. We checked out the face of the rock and then moved to the back to climb up to the top.
Here we'd prepare the ropes. Kevin walked me through the process step by step as we created our support system. I wanted to trust the ropes, and I wanted to trust him, but I couldn't help but think about my mother and the horrible dreams she has of me falling off a cliff. So as Kevin hung from the edge, I placed myself firmly on a solid rock and watched him safely from afar.

Then we started the climb. It was easy at first as I placed my feet and hands, but the farther I got, there weren't as many places to put my feet or grab on to. Then Kevin picked the perfect time to take pictures - right when I was completely scared to death. "I'm going to take a video," he yelled up at me. "Kevin please! I'm freakin out here. Don't let go of the rope." "Now how can I hold the rope and take a video," he joked. I didn't find it funny. I don't like to give up though, so as tough as it seemed to be, I continued climbing as Kevin yelled, "Kiss the Carabiner baby, you gotta kiss the Carabiner." He later made fun of me for actually having kissed the thing.
"Hey, watch it Kevin," I said, "It was my first time; you should be proud of me, not making fun of me!" No worries though - I got back at him when it was his turn to climb. I told him I know how to belay, but I'm not so sure I had a clue as to what I was doing. "Honey, of course I wouldn't let you fall." But remember folks, it was Cletus who taught me how to belay.