Light at the End of the Tunnel
The other night, as I watched the full moon rising over Vegas, I thought "what a perfect night to do some climbing." I was wrong. It was still horrendously hot, even after midnight. I hadn't drank nearly enough water. I got lost trying to find the base of the route. There was a black widow chilling on a ledge at the top of the first pitch. I had to downclimb back to the ground, get repsyched and go for it again. I finally made it to the crux, where my lights quit working. I tried fixing them mid-crux, but eventually decided that wasn't the best use of my mental energy. Through all that, I did actually make it to the top. And it was all worth it. Despite how dehydrated I was and the fact that I still had to hike off through a black widow infested gully, find my camera in the dark, then hike uphill all the way back to my car, in that moment, I was happy to be there. I was happy to lay under the light of the full moon, gazing up at the stars. I was happy to be able to forget all those troubles past, present, and future and just be.