I felt a thrill of excitement as I gazed up at the wall. My body trembled with delight while harnessing in and double checking my knots. I nodded to my bilayer, who nodded with approval, the signal that I could start climbing. Mounting the wall, I was off. Slowly climbing, higher, higher, my body was methodically scaling the rock wall. Sweat trickled down my arms, legs, and face until I was drenched. Wisps of hair made their way out of my ponytail and clung to my forehead. Continuing higher up, my temperature rapidly rose. I was beginning to breathe deep, I needed a break. Getting into a good, comfortable position and leaning back, I took deep breaths. Looking down, everyone below appeared tiny like little ants. My elevation was great, but I was unafraid of it. It had become normal to me by now. Instead of being scary and frightening, it was invigorating and lovely seeing how far I had come in such a short time. Then I looked up, ahead. It looked like the next few moves would be somewhat difficult. The holds were further apart, almost out of my reach, and they were getting smaller. Then they grew again as they dotted up a slant. I also saw a dynamic move. Chalking my hands and preparing for what lay ahead; I heaved myself up into a standing position, and moved on. As I had expected, it was more difficult. My temperature continued to get hotter, my arms and wrist ached from the strain, and my legs trembled with exhaustion. I kept going. Now I was greasy with sweat, it was hard to keep hold of the wall. My hands were slippery and getting clumsy with the constant weight and effort. It was obviously time to chalk up again. Slipping my hands into my chalk bag in turn and rubbing the powder onto my hands provided more friction. Then I kept on. I was almost there now; the final hold was in sight. Excitedly, I made my way up the slant, taking care not to lose my footing. If I lost my footing while hanging upside down, it would be very hard to recover. Then it was over. The wall leveled out from being horizontal to vertical again. The dynamic move was now the next course of action. I studied the hold, and pictured where I would need to grasp it. Squatting and swaying back and forth as I gained momentum. Adrenaline pulsed through every inch of my tense body. Then with an extra excursion of strength, I leaped from the tip of my toes. My desperate fingers reached out to their fullest possible length, and scraped across the hold, barely unable to grab it. I fell a short distance until the rope caught me with an abrupt jerk. My heart was pounding. I was trembling all over, my whole body ached, and sweat was still pouring from me. Once more I chalked up, while occasionally tapping off the wall so I swung back and forth. I did this so I wouldn’t get stuck away from the wall. Rested now and a little more energized, I again grabbed hold and climbed the short way back to my previous location. Then I was ready to try again. I swung side to side gaining motion like before, and again I invisioned where I would need to grab the hold. Then I pounced. I reached out with my right hand, my arm straight and stiff as I attempted to grab it. My eager fingers brushed the hold, but this time I caught it with my left hand. Slightly stunned with my triumph, I hung for a split second with my feet dangling. Then I gained my wits and grasped the hold with my right hand also, but unable to reach good footing, I did a pull up to the last hold. I had done it. I had finished the route with only one fall. I shouted down to my bilayer, and the rope tightened. Letting go, I shook my hands out to help relieve the pain and achiness. As I was being lowered down through the air, I smiled to myself. I had conquered a hard slant, dynamic move, and had scarcely made an astonishing recovery from almost falling a second time. Yes, I had won. Victory churned through my body along with an overwhelming feeling of accomplishment. Cheers from my friends floated up toward me from far below. I had made it.
