It was already early evening last night before I could catch up to Fabio and our friend, John at the local sport-climbing crag. When I arrived, all eager to climb after a long day spent at the computer, the guys were at the top of a climb doing maintenance work at the anchor.
Sport climbing crags rely on the efforts of volunteers to keep an eye on the equipment that keeps us all safe. In this case, the anchor chain we’ve all been using for years was fastened around a tree perched at the top of the cliff. The chain and hardware were strong, but the tree was pretty old, not that hefty, and now quite dead. Most of the roots arte exposed, and though trees on cliffs find ways to send their roots into cracks and spaces in the rock, this one will not last forever. At some point, we will show up and that tree will have fallen to the base of the cliff. Best if it doesn’t take a climber along with it.
Good thing the guys were willing to haul a drill up there and install a couple of expansion bolts in the rock face. Fastening the heavy chain to the new bolts created a much sturdier anchor that should last a good while before it eventually needs to be replaced again.
This all took a little time, so it was fortunate that I have started slipping a notebook, pen, and reading material into my pack along with harness, climbing shoes and helmet. That pesky reading list for my first-ever class at graduate school is long and not exactly the kind of reading I can skim through.
My reading of the classics is spotty (spotty being a generous way to say non-existent) so I’m needing to make little drawings and crib notes about even the most basic stuff.
What is fascinating is that those old guys were all asking the same questions I’ve been asking myself recently. What does it mean to live a good life? Why are we here? Where did we come from? What are our responsibilities to our fellow citizens? I’d share answers, but I haven’t come up with any yet.
(Also interesting - a quick perusal of the various readings reveals an ongoing conflict between being able to fully concentrate on serious philosophical matters and being distracted by carnal pursuits… No comment on whether this is likely to be a concern for me as I plunge headlong into my own studies. Though, climbing can feel like a bit of a carnal pursuit - often grunting, sweating, partner trust, and safe words are involved.)
I didn’t get terribly far with my reading because the anchor installation went pretty smoothly. That meant I was able to squeeze in a couple of climbs before it got too dark to see what we were doing… (Yes- tested the new anchor. It worked!)
I am immensely grateful to
for this week’s drawing assignment. Each day we are to combine text and illustration as we capture a moment from our day. This mission lurked in the back of my mind as I sat, read, kept an eye on the two guys way above my head, and then enjoyed some climbing. It’s been harder than expected to keep on top of my regular illustrated journalling (and posting), so having this project to focus on over the coming week should be a good thing.Ciao!
Greetings to a WendyMac gut-co-member. I love what you are doing and i think WendyMac is the bee's knees. I am a bit behind the 30 days--I figure moving into a new art space counts as art pursuit, although I would love to eventually be 'caught up'. And getting the memo wrong the first week thinking it was 15 minutes was a downer, but it is what it is. I love the assignments no matter how I botch them.
Those are the best pictures of Aristotle and Socrates I've ever seen. And ha ha your carnal pursuits, with safe word and all. Loved this, as usual. I have a new appreciation for the word spotty. Thanks for keeping climbers safe. And for asking the big questions.