Rock climbing at Squamish
Friday, September 26th, 2008Instructor: Right, you look terrified, I think you should go next before you start crying.
Me: I’m not crying, I’ve got sunscreen in my eye.
But he’s right, I am terrified. Some people know they are scared of heights and wouldn’t dream of spending a day rock climbing. Some people are not the least bit concerned about heights. Then there are the unfortunates like me, who have a selective memory and forget their fear until they are on top of a cliff, with no way of getting down other than relying on a thin nylon rope. Then, several millenium’s worth of natural selection kicks in. Sensible rules for survival such as “don’t leave shallow water unless you know how to swim” or “don’t leap off a cliff unless you know how to fly”. The instructor can tell me all he likes about back up systems and international standards of quality control. All my brain can process is that very soon, I have to step over the edge of the cliff, backwards, to a thirty metre drop.
But if I can’t be fearless, I want to be brave. Fortunately I have stubbornness on my side. I’m not about to let a little thing like survival instinct get in the way of a goal. So off I go, with wide eyes and trembling legs, trying not to think about head injuries or the fact that my Canadian health insurance still hasn’t come through.


