On the rocks

Usually, my Saturday plans are to sleep in, watch DVRed episodes of Food Network shows, take a nap on the couch, and maybe try a new recipe, if I’m feeling wild. I like my weekends to be drastically different from my workday existence, and I dread feeling like I didn’t manage to rest at all before Monday morning. Although this past weekend certainly fulfilled the criterion of novelty, I could use another day to recover. See, JG and I spent our Saturday tramping along trails and scrambling over rocks so that we could try to climb boulders. I guess I can’t say that it wasn’t a departure from the norm.

Ten of us met to go bouldering in a stretch of state game land in Bucks County, Pennsylvania, in the township of Haycock. I’ve mentioned bouldering briefly, but the basic idea is to climb up a large boulder that’s usually about fifteen feet high. We look on the surface of the rock to find holds for hands and feet, and because there is no rope, other climbers look out for safety by spotting and cushioning falls with crash pads. Bouldering is one of the most low-maintenance forms of climbing because it requires very little gear: just shoes, chalk, and a crash pad.

We set out in a brisk walking pace on a trail that was more akin to piles of wet leaves than a beaten-down path. I had a tough time keeping up for a handful of reasons: my short legs are no help with fast, all-terrain walking; the rocks in the path were slippery from days of on-and-off rain; and I was carrying almost four liters of (heavy!) water in a backpack that was too large for me. During single-file hikes, I worry about holding up other people with my slow pace, but at the same time, Don’t leave me behind! What if I slip and smash my face on these rocks? I like to think that I am relatively sure-footed, but the combination of the slick surfaces, quick pace, my off-kilter center of gravity, and my vivid imagination regarding injury made me so cautious that I resembled the group’s elderly relative. Had the trip been more climbing than hiking, I may have been less tense and twitchy, but that was not the case.

That said, the climbing was a lot of fun. Even though some of the boulders people wanted to climb were slick from the rain, I finished two easy problems and took scads of pictures. The fog cast a kind of moody light into the photos, and I enjoyed my first chance to try to capture climbing. Everyone seemed to have a good time, and no one got hurt, if we exclude the giant goose egg of a bruise I have on my knee.

After a good six hours of hiking and climbing, most of the group came back to our house for a cookout. We gorged ourselves on burgers and hot dogs (”Hey, we burned a lot of calories!”), took turns on the slackline, and threw quoits while Ted looked on. Even though I had my moments of frustration with the hiking, and it would have been nice to have drier rock, it was a good trip. Our fearless leader is already making noises about a June excursion, so we’ll see what comes of that. For now, I’m happy stretch out my sore muscles, clean off my climbing shoes, and set aside this Saturday to be nice and slow.