The Leap of a Lifetime

I did it.  I rapelled.  I dropped myself over the edge of a tall cliff, suspended by ropes, and leveraged myself down the face of the cliff.  It was exhilarating.  It was awesome.  It was life-changing.  I want bigger cliffs.

This is Susan, our instructor.  Susan has already done more in her 26 years than most people do in an entire lifetime. She's my guru, my inspiration, my hero. Susan has never lost anyone over a cliff, dropped them from their harness, or misplaced them in a cave, all of which are good things if you're the instructor.

This is Susan's face when you step on her climbing ropes. Apparently, it's very bad for the ropes for them to be stepped on and impregnated with tiny gravels and such, and very bad for the climber if the ropes break because they were grimed up by some inconsiderate or oblivious person. This is the 'oh my dear lord' look Susan will give you when she has already told you to "Stay off the dang ropes!"  and you step on them again.  Fortunately I was only the observer of this face, not the recipient.

This is Susan telling us we get five chances to get this right.  No, not really, you only get that one chance and then you're hanging upside down or ricocheting off the face of the cliff.  She's demonstrating what to do with your hands as you go down.

...and how that first step is not really such a big deal if you don't look behind you, and how your belay person holding your safety line is someone you can really trust.  Even if they snored all night long in the tent next to you and look really tired. It's ok, really.

So the belay person did a great job, Susan did a great job, I made the descent without a hitch, and now I'm a convert. I'm off to search out the highest, sheerest cliff I can find on these plains.  And a belay person who's had plenty of coffee!