Chasing Letters

So intense. So controlled. Every single nerve blazing, every muscle fibre tight as a guitar string. My mind, blank of nothing but the moment, the raucous tourist noises faded out, hearing only my slow, deep breaths. Balanced, on the edge of falling, wavering on the brink. 

“Move, move, move,” my mind screamed.

The gate on the draw snicked shut. 

I forgot about time, about place. Surrounded by people, yet completely alone in my battle to the chains. 

We face our weaknesses, our worst fears. We seek out our mental and physical limits, we fight them till our mouths are dry, our muscles burning, our minds numb, and our friends screaming like we’re about to win the Stanley Cup.

Its like a drug. One more letter, one more number. There is no rest. Yes, a new red point, a new flash grade pacifies the beast for a day, if you’re lucky maybe longer. The impossible, once the stuff of dreams, become projects, then ticks in the guide book. It shuts people out. 

She couldn’t keep up. I blew off dinner to organise gear and go to bed early cause maybe tomorrow would be the day I add a number, a letter. It never lasts past the beginning anymore.

I hung, the small roof sheltering me from the blazing June sun. Limp, head down, pressed against the rope in front of me. Sweat ran down my face, slowing momentarily and continuing down the rope, dropping into the three bolt void beneath me.

I sagged even further against the rope. A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth as I failed.

Today, yesterday’s red point was enough. 

A summit shot from Mt Edith after climbing the South Ridge.