Page 133 of Valley Girls
The shadows slipped over them as they each wiggled up into the chimney.
With her back to the flake and her feet pushing on the wall, Rilla tried not to think of coming off the wall. There was no protection here. The more she tried, the harder it was to not think about it. Her feet slipped and her arms hurt from trying to keep from pushing so hard on the flake.
It was her fear right now, she could feel it. She was tired and sore, yes. But it was fear locking everything tight. She winced and forced her body to move, putting the fear into its place and not allowing it to weigh on her body.
With a relieved sigh, she pulled out of the chimney to the top of the flake and sat astride, one leg on each side of the flake—one in sun and one in shadow. She put her arms up into the wind and tipped her head, sweaty helmet shifting back.Done.
The Boot Flake was next—and it was Rilla’s turn to lead. She found a good rhythm in ascending the aiders, clipping the bolts and fixed gear until she reached the bottom of the boot-shaped flake and needed to dig at her side for a cam.
She was higher than she’d ever been climbing, but the higher she went, the more the ground lost its sense of reality. It faded into gray and blue and greens of otherworldliness. All that existed—all that was real and permanent—was the granite beneath her raw fingers. The rub of the harness on her legs and waist. The dryness of her mouth. Her body moved like a machine—doing exactly what her mind told it to do. Focused. Strong. She’d never felt like this in her entire life. She was in control—and more out of control than she’d ever been. A body held in perfect tension. Maybe this was what life was—a constant state of seeking perfect tensions.
They didn’t talk much as they kept climbing. Everyone was starting to feel the effects of two full days of climbing. But the summit felt manageable. Within their grasp.
Petra had grabbed gear, but still insisted on climbing free—Rilla and Adeena didn’t argue, but it was starting to annoy Rilla more and more. Especially as the afternoon waned.
Adeena did the run for the King Swing—the famous, huge pendulum was a different experience than it had been for Petra and her long legs. Her swings took time to build, but had a power Petra’s hadn’t had.
When it was Rilla’s turn, she swept through the last of the sun lighting the shadows of the Valley and reached for the rock. The force pulled abruptly, and she felt this surge of superhuman strength course through her arms and connect her mind to her feet to find a foothold. Petra and Adeena grabbed hold of her shirt and secured her beside them.
The sun was beginning to set—twisting that familiar deep amber—but with three more pitches until they reached their camp spot, they were either climbing well into the night or bivying below the ledge.
“Maybe both,” Adeena said with a sigh.
“What is that on the horizon?” Adeena asked when they were working over the anchors, switching belay for the next pitch.
Rilla peered into the twilight near the last bit of sun. It was bright and seared her vision. It was hard to tell. “Clouds?” she asked.
“It’s probably just the sunset doing weird things. Or whatever ... clouds.”
“Fuck,” Adeena said, swiping hair out of her face.
They all kept their eyes to the horizon, even when they put headlamps on and kept climbing in the dark, and couldn’t see what might be coming.
The wind picked up.
“It might rain,” Petra yelled.
In the light of her headlamp, Adeena’s eyes rolled.
Rilla wasn’t having it. She glared up at Petra. “No shit!” she yelled back over the wind.
“We’ll be fine,” Adeena said. “Let’s just get to the bivy before it starts.”
The dark was all around them then—biting with cold teeth on the back of Rilla’s neck as she kept blindly following Adeena, who had taken over on lead.
The first lightning flicker sent her pulse screaming—the granite lit wildly as if there were ghouls and goblins in each shadow. The face turned menacing. But in the fear, she suddenly felt, for the first time, as if the rock was hers. As if she belonged here—more than the other two. She was ugly, and terrible, and full of shadows where she kept finding terrible things. It always felt as if the bright sunshine of the mountains would kick her off; but here, in this night storm on El Cap, her fingers tingled and her body hummed, and she finally felt secure.
“Fuck! Your hair!” Petra pointed.
Rilla tipped her head up to see her hair on end, dancing above her helmet. “Fuck fuck fuck!” she screeched. She was about to be hit by lightning. She could feel it—the hum of the clouds gathering energy and seeking her body.
“Curl in a ball,” Adeena yelled. “Grab your ears.”
Rilla let go, immediately falling on the long stretch of cordelette of the anchors, and bumping against the wall as she hugged her knees to her chest and tucked her ears down. Thank god she’d been anchored. Thank god, because she’d just let go without thinking, and hadn’t double-checked anything. Cringing, she waited to be struck.
The lightning flashed. Thunder echoed.
Her heart beat ferociously.
