Don’t not Look Down

There's no way.

I look right, sheer wall. I look left, same thing. With my last ounce of hope I turn around, and what I find is an overwhelming sense of confusion, as if I was expecting a magic escalator out of this canyon. Stomach free-falls to my knees. Heart starts pounding in my throat. Legs go limp and I collapse into the dirt, narrowly missing a cactus. What was once an inkling of hope has now deteriorated into full blown panic. With fists clenched I start to hyperventilate; breathing as fast as my heart is beating. This is it. This was my last mistake in this life. I should have never rappelled down here. Tears disappear into the sand as I continue to gasp for air. I stare at the sky, thinking it will be the last time I see that beautiful blue.

It's intensely hot in this desert, but I start feeling cold. The lack of oxygen from shallow breaths dwindles my fire inside. Despair helps to weaken the flame by attrition. But before it finally goes out, something inside tells me to check again.

"What?"

"CHECK AGAIN! How dare you give up so easily!" Like I just smacked myself in the face.

My breathing starts to return to normal, tears have stopped falling, and the pigment returns to my palms as I release my clenched fists. I dry my eyes to take another look at my cage, but these walls may as well be glass. My rope hangs down 200 feet but I don't have the strength or the tools to climb back up it. With rock climber's eyes I scan again, searching for any possible route up.

Aha! There's hope after all! Hidden within the shadowy side of the canyon, two walls meet perpendicular to each other. A dihedral, off-width crack, possibly big enough to be a chimney. I must investigate further.

"Ok, deep breath." My strength returns alongside the fire in my soul. "I will not go down without a fi-- FUCK!" As I place my hands at my sides to help myself stand up, my left hand, at full force, slams into the cactus I barely missed when I collapsed. "MOTHERFUCKER THAT HURTS." I scream at the top of my lungs, then seconds later echoed back from the walls. Yelling that loudly made me feel even better, like I forcefully expelled the despair. Mumbling more swear words to myself, I remove the cactus spines. Once more I try to stand up, this time mindfully aware of the cactus.

Hand now throbbing, I make my way toward the dihedral. The closer I get, the bigger the crack gets. This looks like a chimney... even better. I feel so small as I gaze directly up the wall, but luckily I am the perfect size to fit into this off-width chimney and stem-climb my way up, the way I imagine Santa Claus gets back to his sleigh. I take my time inspecting every inch of the route, and I notice the chimney gradually gets more narrow towards the top. From my view, it looks like the narrowest part at the top will be my biggest challenge.

Heart starts racing again in anticipation. There's a weight in my stomach urging me to keep my feet on the ground, but I don't listen to it. This is the only way I can continue living, the only way I can see my family again. I reach down to grab a handful of dirt and rub my hands together to dry my sweaty palms. I wear my pack over my chest and tighten the straps, then commence my ascent towards freedom.

I am grateful this side of the canyon is shaded because it's made the sandstone feel much cooler to the touch, helping my hands stay dry. The chimney itself mysteriously makes its own wind current, but it's cooling me off. The beginning of this climb is wide enough to stem climb. My back rests on one side of the wall, hands pressed upside down next to my hips, and my feet smear vertically on the other side. To my right, the canyon, to my left, the dark slot of the chimney. I start inching my way up. This will help me conserve the arm strength I will need at the top. This type of movement is like a vertical crab walk; I place one foot above the other, use the counter-pressure from my hands to elevate my body, and then repeat, alternating my feet. I must always keep at least one foot on the wall at all times, otherwise I would fall face-first into the wall, and then straight to the bottom. I continue this trend upwards, the distance between myself and the ground ever growing. I only have my will-power to cheer me on. My left hand still hurts, but not enough to deter me from my goal.

With my eyes strictly locked forward, only looking at my shoes, I refuse to look at how far up I've made it. Instead I look up, and I'm met with a joyous fear as I see the width of the crack begin to shrink. Well, that must mean I'm almost to the top! And without thinking, I immediately look down to see how far I've come. The dizzying height makes me lose my focus, my hands instantly perspire and slip out from under me. My heart nearly jumps out of my chest as I scream in terror. I use the back of my head and shoulders to stop myself from falling further. I may have slid only a foot, but the shock itself made it feel like I was on my way to the bottom. Now I'm wedged in an uncomfortable position, with my head aching from smacking the rock, and a racing pulse in my throat. My feet sit well above my body with my shoulder blades and head pressed firmly against the opposite wall as my only lifeline. I hold back the tears, wipe these sweaty palms on my pants, and take a deep breath. I look out to my right and find the bright side; the view is lovely from up here. And my adrenaline has spiked to levels never felt before, giving me the high I need to continue.

I don't know how far it is to the bottom, but it wouldn't matter. It's far enough to remember every bad decision I've ever made on the way down. After I calm myself and remember my goal, I reassess the situation. I need to get my body back perpendicular to my legs. The only way is to dig my elbows into the rock behind me because my hands can't get enough traction from this angle. I push away the looming terror of there being nothing but 150 feet of air below me, ending in solid rock, and I focus on the 50-plus feet I have left to go. I clench my teeth, and yell loudly in pain as I use all my strength to get myself back to position. I can't see them, but I'm sure my elbows are now bleeding, like I painted a petroglyph that no one will see. I am out of breath. I want nothing more than to rest, but I can feel my strength fading. I must use this adrenaline boost before it wears off.

As I continue upward, I can't help but think how surreal a feeling this is; wedged between two monstrous rocks yet feeling like I'm floating on air. Death just one more slip away. If I could actually float, it would solve several of my problems. My knees are now pushing into the pack on my chest. This is as far as I go with the crab walk. I look up, and I guesstimate there's about 30 more feet to go. 5 more body lengths, not bad! I'm so close I can almost taste it, but I still have a long way to go. I feel incredibly scared, but almost proud of myself for how far I've come. No sense stopping now. I put my left foot under my hip, and push my body upwards, essentially standing up. I look down at my right foot, and see the only part gripping the wall is the toe. A scary sight as the drop looms beyond. I slowly bring myself back down to sit on my calf, and from this position, I can bring my right foot up to a more comforting spot. I'll sit here for a second.

I put my pack on the correct way, and after about a minute, I stand up again. The wind now blowing harder than it did on the ground. If only I had wings then I could ride this updraft to the top. Wish I had a Red Bull... No, stop daydreaming. For another 10 feet, I alternate my feet up the walls until I get to a point that is too narrow for my head. Now I will have to lean out over the drop. I felt safer stemming up between the walls. I'll be very exposed now. I summon all my climbing knowledge and decide that lie-backing will be the best technique. I will have to reorient my body the other way and walk my feet up the wall that my back has been resting on this whole time. Then I have to let my body lie back towards the floor of the canyon, with only my hands keeping me from the backwards free fall. Sounds like freaking fun.

My left leg starts shaking uncontrollably, known to climbers as the "sewing machine leg," felt when fear of the height outweighs the focus you should have on your body. This is not the time to have sweaty hands either. I just continue making the most efficient moves I know how to make, and eventually I forget about the leg, and it stops shaking. I place my right hand above my right foot, hoping the sandstone absorbs most of the moisture. Then, I point my left foot upwards and place my left hand above it, matching what I'm doing on the other side. I summon my inner Spiderman and pray that my feet don't slip out from under me. This is my crux: The hardest part of this entire ascent. I hold my breath. My back is facing the valley below, and in a desperate act of faith, I simultaneously fall backwards into the other wall and move my right leg opposite. Success. I can breathe again. Now for the real leap of faith. I slowly shimmy my feet out towards my left, and I inch my body towards the edge with them. With my left hand, I press my palm firmly on the wall next to my face. I turn my body so that I can use my right hand to grip the 90 degree edge of the crack; fingers pointing inside. I start to lie my body over the free fall as the sun pleasantly greets my face. Then gracefully bring my left hand beside my right. No time to waste, this expends a lot of energy. I find my sync and walk up the wall in rhythmic fashion.

15 feet to go. 10 feet... 5 feet... uh oh. I can finally see the desert carrying off to the horizon, but I seem to be stuck in this position. My feet are standing where I need to grab to pull myself up and out of this godforsaken hole. GODDAMNIT. My hands are starting to feel weak. I can feel them about to slip off at any second. Fuck it... I pull myself forward, and with my only attempt I stretch for the top of the cliff. My shoes give way to gravity, and as I begin to fall, my right hand catches on the edge. My whole body hanging on by one hand. I throw my left hand beside it, and do the only pull-up I ever want to do again. I lay there, legs still dangling off the edge, and I start to weep. I made it. I wipe my eyes, slowly stand up, and aim both middle fingers at what was once my prison. The place that could very easily have claimed my life. I never want to see a canyon again.