Urgggh choices

It's that time of year again! That period of midwinter restlessness and desire to see the days grow longer again. When you've exhausted the snowshoeing/skiing options (or the snow just doesn't want to cooperate).

Ha. I wish.

For us wildlifers, it's also job season. I am applying and interviewing for summer seasonal work, which means my head is already way past spring semester. Considering I have 18 credits' worth of class to get through, that could be problematic.

Summatime!! And animals yeah!!

Last year, I already knew by February that I was going to be spending my summer in Barrow. It provided a welcome incentive to get through the drudge of spring semester. However, last year the choice was simple. I received few offers (due to it being a terrible, terrible year for federally funded projects), and of those offers, Alaska was the only real option because of timing conflict. (Note: I had zero problem with this).

This year the game has changed. There are actual projects to choose from. I also have an aim--if possible, I'd like to start working with bats. I've never before had an interest in a particular species, so I am excited to see where it goes.

It probably goes into some large, dark hole.

Someday it's going to exasperate me, but for now, I am enjoying the fleeting nature of wildlife work. I don't want to be trapped in one place or one career. I want to travel around, see new places and meet new people every few months. I love Missoula--this place has become my home while going to school here.

Beautiful from so many angles.

After just three years, Missoula is already full of memories. I complain about college a lot because there are a lot of problems with the system, but it has been very good for me. I came to UM a nervous, naive 18-year-old. I kept my head down through public school in conservative, rural Montana. I was so busy trying not to stand out that I never questioned what I actually liked.

Except motorcycles. Motorcycles always win.

Three years ago, I'd never been rock climbing, kayaking, caving, or even backpacking. I hadn't hiked hundreds of miles in the backcountry or swam in icy mountain lakes, or run in Arctic races.

Or played with baby caribou in the mist.

 It's amazing how easily I can take all that for granted. I get fed up with long days of school and work and little sleep, but the truth is, it's already been worth it. I am incredibly graced with everything I have found here. Kind, welcoming people, unique experiences, maybe even a tiny bit of self-confidence that I didn't have before.

In other words, I need to suck it up, quit complaining, and get ready to work my ass off this semester. Summer will come, and hopefully some sort of paid employment with it.

Stay weird, lovely Missoula.

--Ellen Marie

Dark Angel

"Val shifted her all her weight onto her left big toe, straining to reach upward with her right hand. Her chalky fingers groped the slick shelf above her head, failing to gain purchase. The muscle in her left calf quivered.

Val let out a soft curse, withdrawing back down to rest her weight on a lower hold. As much as she hated to admit it, fear fluttered in her abdomen. She risked a look down below her. She had committed to free soloing this route—no ropes, no partner, no backup. A fall here would not just be costly—it would be deadly."

             . . .

The rest of the story is available here:  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dark-angel

Yes, sorry, it is 99 cents; I was not able to make it free. If you have a spare .99, check it out! I want to dip my toe into adventure writing (maybe so that someday when I have worthwhile adventures I can write about them).

Boundaries

Spring--real, birds-singing-and-flowers-blooming spring, arrived today. It was one of those blue sky breezy days that made it absolutely impossible to do anything other than get out and dive right into it. So I did what any self-respecting college student would do, and skipped class.

Let me explain that I do not skip class lightly. . . but today was so rare and beautiful that my valuable life-dollars would have been wasted if I spent them in class. An hour and a half of class, or a half-day of climbing craggy limestone cliffs amongst the junipers?

After making that tough decision--toughest I'll make all week--I called the friend who had invited me out, Matt, and told him I was in.

It was an interesting chance to climb with someone different than my usual partner. It's always cool to gain new perspective and experience with someone different, though there is also a certain sense of apprehension. I am still pretty rough around the edges as a climber and there is a lot for me to learn yet before I can manage myself completely safely on the rock.

Speaking of the rock, it was gorgeous--a blank, monolithic slate of limestone that rose up out of nowhere beside a rough single-track road. I was in awe just looking at it. There must be some sort of natural climber in me though--I was immediately unsatisfied with merely gazing at it from the ground. I needed to be on it.

I was soon to get intimately acquainted with that rock. As a "warmup" Matt led a 5.9 route while I belayed. I have caught a lead fall before, but only in practice when I was warned well in advance. With Matt it was lightning fast. I watched him slip and the next thing I knew I was smashed up against the wall, still gripping the rope tightly down by my thigh.I blinked up at him in surprise to see how he was doing, but he was more concerned with me than his own fall.

Despite the hard knock to my elbow and shin, I was sort of glad it happened. Now we both knew that I could catch him when it came down to it, and he got his fall out of the way.

Matt took a second go at the route  and managed it without any more falls. I could see how crazy it was at certain points though, how he'd risked quite long falls on nearly nonexistent hand and foot holds. Now that he'd gone up first, I could have chosen to climb the route on top rope and eliminate any risk, but. . .(see last post).

I decided I would lead it, not realizing that it was about to push my boundaries much further than ever before. Only a few feet up, I could hear a loud beating in my head, and it took me a moment to realize it was my heart nervously hammering away (this lasted the entire climb). Every time I have lead climbed in the past, I was painfully aware of how far I was from each bolt, and how long of a fall I would be taking. This time there was no room for such calculation. I had to focus every ounce of my being in just moving my ass to the next available hold, because none of them were trustworthy enough to stand around on and think about the universe.

I had a brief thought at one point--flung far out to the right of the previous bolt--that I was standing on literally nothing. I even shouted down to Matt that I had no clue what was keeping me on the rock at that moment. Two single fingertips and maybe a single toe from each foot had contact with the rock, and I was at a place where slipping would have been a very rough scrape indeed.

                   (The tiny dot in the center of that photo is Matt at the top of the 5.9)
Actually, I'm pretty sure it was only my incredible fear of death (okay I would not have literally died, but it kinda felt like it) that kept me suspended in the air. Amazing what motivation can do to a person's strength. I could've done a pullup easily at that moment, hell yeah. Panting and dripping with sweat, I reached a nice ledge to stand on below the anchor at the top, and gratefully hugged the nearest outcropping of rock. Safe.

Matt and I continued climbing after that, including one disastrous lead on my part that ended in a free climb back down, which was a bit touch-and-go. But truly, what happened after that for me did not matter, because I'd conquered myself and my fear already. I cheered Matt on as he (top-roped) a 5.10 like a champ, envious but admiring as always. The hours had burned away magically while we weren't looking, and it was time to get back. We packed up and headed back to the vehicle, both having tested our limits for the day .

On the way back, I bought us some victory ice cream, which we ate while watching crazy kayakers enjoy a beautiful evening out on the Clark Fork river. Today--today life is good.

Climbing Update!

              Climbing--it requires skill, athleticism, coordination and motivation, all things that I'm pretty generally lacking. . .
              So why do I enjoy it? I'm certainly not naturally good at it.

Climbing Classic Crack

       Deep, philosophical answer: because it's fun! Such a thrill rush. I've been making tons of time for it lately. Out of the last three days, I climbed . . . uh, all three days. Whoops. Well I found myself some climber friends with the know-how and willingness to instruct me in it, so I'm taking advantage of it while the getting's good (I'm such a good person).

Lead climbing: means you can't hang around like this.

        I bring this up now because yesterday I did my first lead climb! A few months ago lead climbing was inconceivable to me, so it means quite a lot. (Lead climbing, as opposed to top roping, means that as you climb you're attaching yourself to bolts on the rock as you go, leaving a lot more space in between draws to fall if you do slip). There's a lot more possibility of getting hurt . . . and you don't have the rope to lean your weight on and take a rest partway up if you need it. You just gotta go, go, go for it.
      And now I can say I've done my first one! Ah, life. And my "instructor" cooked me a steak dinner afterward in congratulations. (Seems a little backward to me but I'm not complaining). It's not just the climbing of course, but the company that comes along with it . . .
     So I guess the moral here is, even if you suck at something, the real question is whether you enjoy it. And if you do enjoy it, then damn, go for it. Go on and cheerfully, bravely, suck at it until you don't anymore.