Tuesday, April 11, 2006

Memories


I keep wanting to write something sentimental and all these memories are getting in the way.

Like the time Andy got his rock climbing shoes.

They were still in the box when we arrived at our camping spot in the Saline Valley. He asked me to go climbing with him and I couldn't think of anything I wanted to climb. We rock-hopped around for a while, but Andy was patently unsatisfied until we came upon a towering, upright, smooth-faced rock. Think of a Stonehenge pillar only much more impressive. Think of China's Great Wall or Gibraltar.

Andy said, "Let's climb it." My answer was timely. "No, thank you." But he had rock climbing shoes which he evidently thought would get him up this face that had no visible hand or foot holds. He told me about his three point climbing technique (which I've since incorporated into everything dangerous I do), and that climbing is much safer with a partner. I assumed that leaving for camp would prompt him to give up on the idea and follow me back, but he didn't come. For a long time he didn't follow. For a long time there was nothing to worry about until Uncle Bob said, "Where's Andy?"

That's when I turned toward the Impossible Face and saw Andy straighten up as he finally made it onto the flat top. I wanted to cheer. I definitely laughed. Then I wished I would have at least tried. I didn't even wonder how he was going to get down. Anybody who could make it to the top of that massive monolith could make it down.

He had a lot of climbing experience but he never had the proper gear or any professional training (unless you count tree climbing). Besides his shoes, there wasn't anything rock climber about his appearence. He wore desert camo fatigues and a flannel shirt.

I think Andy was a master rock climber because he believed he was.

I also think about other times in his life when he needed a partner and I wasn't there.

It's amazing how memories like this become monuments after a loss. I'd love nothing more than to go back to Andy's rock someday to see if I could make it to the top. Maybe then I could feel what he felt up there.