Tofurky, rocks and giving thanks

We set up the tent...is Miguels open??? Not yet, not til 9. Well we thought should we pack up and go climbing even though we were sleep deprived, especially me. We had a rush of adrenaline and didnt want to loose it, but once we all tried out our sleeping bags in the tent I knew that was the end of it..at least for a couple of hours. At 9 we re-awoke to the sound of nearby campers.
This was not your typical find a secluded spot in the wilderness camping, but rather it was just one general area for tents, a nearby pasture of goats, a pit for bonfires with a grouping of picnic tables, and Miguels just a moment away.

Miguels, is the quaint yellow little shop that served the most delicious pizza in the world, piping hot coffee in the morning and tons of climbing gear. It also had a basement that became our haven from the bitter cold nights. It was warmed with little space heaters and the bodies and laughter of the whole campsite. Beer was to be drunk her, bored games to be played and food to be gobbled down. there were some huddled over their computers, others scanned the bookshelf filled with board games, books and other odds and ends. The room was lit with dim overhead light, and a string of multicolored Christmas lights to add to the festive spirit.

So we walked to Miguels for some coffee, cooked a nice pot of oatmeal and packed the bags and the car for our first trip climbing, and my first climbing experience outdoors!!!
We drove the quick ten minute drive down the most beautiful windy roads and pulled into the first climbing site. After about a 15 minute hike we reached our destination. There were a couple of groups that already laid claim to many of the routes, but we found ourselves a couple of nice ones, harnessed up and began climbing. Or at least Juan began. It was so amazing to watch him climb. Slow and patient...graceful and meditative. Not once did he appear flustered. To Juan, climbing is a spiritual experience and I could tell that day how something inside of him awakened.

I call him he ballerina of the rocks.

After watching the three of them go, it was my turn. I barely remember this climb as there were so many more that stood out to me. But it was incredible. Absolutely incredible. Not only do you have to use every part of your body for strength, pulling yourself up, reaching with one arm and then relying one that one hold to hoist your body up, lifting your leg until it is just about tucked to your belly and then placing all your weight on that leg to support your next move, grasping a little bump in the rock with only your fingertips and then relying on this minuscule hold to support your bod weight, learning to throw your body in one direction in order to reach the next hand hold.. but it was a mental challenge as well. Not only does one have to be incredible strategic about every move they make...which hole is best for my foot the one that is closer, or that one that appears sturdier..at times I would frantically run my fingers over the rock grasping for a hold that would allow me to hoist myself up, rarely did I find a good one and many times I just clenched my teeth and went for the extension, but sometime..just sometimes I would grasp a hand hold that seemed meant for human hands and I would shout with joy and rest for a moment in its security.

One of the most challenging parts was the mental battle in which I had to convince myself that all was okay. That I was completely safe all the while my body seemed to be screaming...What the hell are you doing bringing me up here! I dont belong this high!! Get me down!! I had to calm nerves that compelled my leg to shake uncontrollable and at times made me cry in fear at I grasped onto the rock suspend over a cliff, seemingly, for my life.
Oh but the joy and adrenaline I experienced when I reached the top. Beautiful I exclaimed...beautiful!!! I was overjoyed at my first completion.

That night we returned to the campsite eager to have a warm Thanksgiving meal. We heard a rumor that Miguels was serving hot Thanksgiving dinner and pie...although we had plans of tofurky instant mashed potatoes and a sweet potato pie I had made the day before, we anxiously and exhaustedly hoped there would be a plate heaping with food handed to us. But alas the food was out when we returned. But our spirits were not dampened. We retrieved Brians little gas stove of one flame, cooked the mashed potatoes, and then a stir fry of tofurky and gravy and sat in eachother company, sipping some beers and feasting on our rather delicious Thanksgiving dinner. Throughout the day we would exclaim what we were thankful for any moment that we felt compelled. That night we gobbled our dinner and gave thanks to our friendship and a delicious Thanksgiving meal.