Sweating Out the Poison

A fall from any height can kill you, but the chances that you will die tripping while walking down the street are close to zero. It’s only around 3 stories that your chances of survival drop drastically. Whether you fall 30-feet or 3000-feet, the result is the same. Instant death.

6-years ago, I lost my job and started drinking. Financial reasons are often cited as the leading cause for divorce, but it wasn’t until she looked into my eyes and realized that the person she married was dead that she left me.

That was my wake-up call. I got sober and joined a climbing gym. The idea of running on a treadmill made the phrase “all-cause mortality” sound appealing in comparison, but climbing was different. I eventually moved on to multi-pitch climbing outdoors, where you climb a 70-meter pitch with a partner and repeat that until you reach the top. I dedicated my life to climbing, working seasonal jobs here and there to make enough money to live out of my car. This was my second chance at life, and I was truly happy.

Then I got the call. Anyone whose been divorced knows you never stop loving the other person. What a cruel world we live in, where a loser like me can still be alive, but she died driving to work.

I thought about that while I drove into town.

While I walked into the gas station convenience store.

And, while I drove drunk to the nearest climbing crag, and started climbing alone.

My heart was pumping pure poison, and it felt so good. The climb felt like it was made for me. I was in a flow state. The sun was setting in only a few minutes, so I had the wall to myself. Bathed in warm, golden light, I felt unstoppable.

But then I had a brief moment of total clarity.

My hands clammed up and started slipping off the rocks that I had so easily been gripping before.

I could see a belay ledge just 10-feet above me. I just had to make it there.

Then, my feet slipped out, and I was left dangling 1000-feet above the forest floor.

Sobering fear washed over me and I screamed. The echo through the canyon mocked me as I regained my footing and mantled atop the ledge.

Tonight the temperatures will fall below freezing, and I think about how I’ll die of exposure before anyone can save me.

I think about how long the human body can stand in one place.

I think about her.

The most common question climbers get asked is if they’re afraid of falling.

My back is pressed against the cold granite. I am standing on a ledge no larger than a dinner plate. I can tell you now, as the black shadow of the earth envelops more beneath me, as my legs begin to cramp up, that I’ve always been afraid of falling.