Page 132 of Valley Girls
When it was Rilla’s turn to climb, she ended up aiding. On the ground, fresh, she could have climbed it. But after a long day of climbing and hauling, she was so exhausted that the aiders were hard enough to manage.
In the evening, they reached Dolt Tower, a natural ledge wide enough to sleep on. By the time they hauled up all their gear and got everything sorted into a mess of anchor webbing, gear, and haul bags, the light was nearly gone.
They pulled their sleeping bags out and collapsed onto the ledge, exhausted.
“It always seems so easy,” Adeena said. “And then I start and,ugh. I forgot.”
“I am so sore,” Petra moaned. “But so far, so free.” She pumped her fists to the sky.
Rilla opened one eye and looked to Adeena, who seemed to be thinking the same thing.There was no way Petra could climb the whole route free, but ...
“I’m hungry,” Adeena said, sitting up. “I’m going to pray and then make some oatmeal.”
After a meal of oatmeal with fruit, brown sugar, nuts, and more water, they brushed their teeth, spitting toothpaste into oblivion, and curled up in their sleeping bags.
The light faded and the wind whipped the dark and the stars came out. Even though Rilla had seen the stars before, seeing them here, from the edge of a sleeping bag with her harness digging into her legs and sides, Adeena’s knees in her back, and Petra’s elbows in her boobs made the stars seem magical and new. She closed her eyes, a smile on her face, and remembered the first day of climbing—with Walker, and how it was horrible and how nothing had changed, except that she washerenow. But then she heard Walker and his “oh.” And she heard the way they’d talked about her and her past. No matter how long she looked at the stars, she heard it in her head. The wind sharpened until it stung tears from under her closed eyes.
In the morning, she was feeling better. Sore, a little swollen and weird, but better. “What pitch number are we on anyway?” Rilla asked, grateful for Adeena’s mountaineer coffee pour-over skills as the rich, sweet scent of coffee tinged the dry wind.
“Lucky thirteen,” Petra said, sitting cross-legged and looking over the edge.
The sky was blue and boundless, streaked with the pink gold of sunrise. Rilla rubbed more sunscreen on her burnt face and used the remaining lotion on her hands to smooth back the flyways as she finger-combed through her knotted hair and re-braided it. She ate a packet of tuna and an avocado with salt and hot sauce packets she’d stolen from the dining hall. It wasn’t the most satisfying—she could have used a huge plate of French toast with bacon, grits, and gravy, and a glass of whole milk alongside her coffee. But the tuna made her feel strong and ready to climb again, and the avocado made her feel something like full. She packed her sleeping bag and the three of them organized their gear, took down the portaledge, and studied the route map one more time—looking over the ten pitches they were slotted to do before bivying at a spot named after Camp 4.
Petra was tying in to lead, when there was a sudden crack, like thunder and lightning at once. All three of them jumped. Rilla looked automatically to the sky, but Adeena and Petra yanked her tight to the wall as something roared past.
Rilla blinked and watched, her mouth open.A person.It was a person in a red suit and he fell. Her heart stopped beating. A red plume billowed out behind him, pulling him up below as he gently finished soaring to the ground.
“Damn BASE jumpers,” Adeena said. “I about peed myself.”
Petra laughed weakly. “I totally thought something had come off. Ack! I’m awake!”
Rilla’s heart resumed beating—faster to make up for lost time. “Oh, my god,” she said, still staring at the person floating to the trees.
They watched until the jumper landed in El Cap Meadow, and then they turned back to the wall and began the rhythm, branching off pitch fourteen to wait for Petra on the Jardine Traverse—the route variation you took when you were trying to free-climb.
On the ground it’d seemed harmless, but now Rilla knew there was no way Petra could free-climb The Nose, and waiting for her to struggle through left Rilla annoyed in a new way. She’d spotted Petra pulling on gear, but couldn’t say anything while Petra was climbing. Her neck ached from twisting to look up.
“I don’t know what she’s doing,” Adeena said at one point. “But it’s not free.” It was the closest they came to talking about it.
Climb.
Ascend.
Haul.
Curse the haul bag for getting stuck.
Curse everything.
Get the haul bag up.
Begin again.
The sun rose high and bright. Halfway through the morning, Rilla pulled on a thin, long-sleeved shirt because she couldn’t imagine how any more sunscreen was going to help against the sunshine trying to burn her off the face of the earth.
Rilla took it upon herself to make salami and cheese crackers for everyone for a mid-morning snack, which they ate before hauling. It was a good idea she took credit for when they spent the next few hours in a long slog, belaying Petra’s attempt to free-climb.
In between, they snacked on apples and thick globs of peanut butter, slowly working their way up a leaning ramp of sun-soaked granite toward the Texas Flake.
