Fear on the Cliff

Saturday morning Tom Powell and I went rock climbing. Tom led and anchored the route that included a huge overhang. I tied in and climbed up to right below the overhang without a problem. The overhang was around five feet. That is pretty serious. It takes incredible muscles just to hold your body to an overhang, let alone move along it and clamber over it. Think of not just holding on to the ceiling now above you, but pulling your body up against it, flat, so you can use your feet along the ceiling. You are fighting gravity and 168 pounds, in my case. The overhang didn’t cut straight across the cliff face; it was jagged so with a little traversing (climbing sideways instead of up) you could then climb into a little cove; in the sense that the five foot overhang was still above you, but also overhung you vertically to your left and right. In this little fold there was a good crack diagonally to your side. From here you could squeeze into this crack and use this thin area of the vertical overhang to get a hold and move yourself around and over. So you didn’t need the strength or skill to go upside down and fight gravity.

I put some chalk on my hands and went for it, deciding to just muscle my way up. I pushed off the wall and up into the crack using just my arms. I ended with my head and right shoulder pinned to the rock hanging above me. The crack was smaller than it had appeared and I was not going to fit so far in. My feet were dangling in the air and unable to touch stone. I would have to move to the edge of this little crack and then try and fit up through it. But to do that I needed my feet. So I frantically pulled my left leg up and clawed at the rock with my foot trying to find a tiny disturbance that I could catch my toe on and hold. I found one and was able to free my head and shoulder and shift my body out away from the cliff to where the crack was wider. I shifted my right handhold exactly as my left toe slipped off the overhang. My body jerked down but my hands held. I was now holding myself by my arms again.

This is when the fear hit. I was hanging out well from the wall. Tom was forty feet directly below me. I was sweating. The wind was gusting terribly and knocking me about. And I realized I had to pull myself up on this thin little corner of rock and slide out and around the overhang. I had no idea what was around the corner; where would I put my hands? I was going to fall. Fear. What if Tom didn’t catch me? What if the rope sawed free on the rock ledge and I dropped? What if I broke my sunglasses? Fear.

But I took a breath and told myself ‘so what?’ I stopped my mind and said, ‘if any of that happened that would be bad. But none of those are very likely. I am not falling. Why fear what is not happening?’

I immediately analyzed my options to move upwards and started attempting them. As soon as I focused my mind on finding a foothold, then shifting my weight so I could lift my left hand over the edge and find a handhold, then getting my right arm over, then bringing my right foot up so it was no longer dangling in the wind, my fear completely vanished. I was left alone on the rock ledge. I felt the wind. I felt the hot sun on my neck. I felt the rock under me. And I moved forward and upward. I didn’t think about how amazingly I had just erased my fear but wasted no more time distractedly thinking about unlikely possibilities. I got to the top and came back down without another problem and it rocked. Pun intended.

A FrontRunner Review

This was written back in May when they had three days of free riding.

I rode FrontRunner today, the new commuter train running from Salt Lake City to Ogden. I figured, why not? I wanted to ride it just for fun and to see the Wasatch by train while it was free. Apparently everyone else had this same idea; the train was packed.

But I am getting ahead of myself. First I must describe the daunting Farmington station. I parked as close as I could and still had to ask directions to the station from fellow commuters in order not to get lost in the seemingly endless ocean of cars. That is awesome. If only they really could keep this many cars off the road daily. Then, looming far above me in the distance I spied what I thought was an observation platform letting people get a birds-eye view of trains as they passed. It turned out to be a crosswalk bridge. Before I could think of any jokes about its enormity, my train pulled in to the station. Ah, the unavoidable last second dash to the train.

I ran up the two plus stories of stairs and started across the crosswalk. This thing was enormous. I quickly realized I had no chance of crossing, descending, and catching my train. That was fine. The schedule said a train arrived every ten minutes.

The schedule lied.

Back on the ground I was forced to ask: why did they put the massive bridge riders are forced to summit to cross to the station completely opposite from the platform crosswalk at the very end of the station? The government’s way to tackle American obesity?

I walked and walked and walked. Finally I crossed. Perfect. It had been ten minutes. Just in time for the next train. Boy, to take the Frontrunner you really have to plan ahead.

I took a seat and waited. And I waited more. Then I read. Then I grew worried about just how much time this was taking.

A cry of joy rose from the crowd on the platform. The train was arriving. The train is beautiful and very nice on the inside too. Perhaps my admiration is a result of riding Italian trains with soot and graffiti covered windows. How long will Frontrunner last until it matches its Italian cousins?

The train was full. I found an open seat on the top floor (yippy!) and was awarded with a stunning view of the mountains, and of the freeway traffic zipping past us. On my return trip it was traffic on residential back streets passing us. Isn’t that only 25 mph?

I rode from Farmington to Ogden, a distance of roughly 20 miles as the train crawls, in an hour and a half. Round trip was over three hours. Not too impressive. But that will improve with time. The trains both direction are sharing one track and so continually stop to let the oncoming train pass. This seems like a bad idea, but hopefully UTA will quickly get the coordination and timing down so the long pauses in the middle of nowhere disappear. One passenger told me, “Well, this is to be expected.” Why is it expected? Can’t you have trains timed correctly or use separate tracks or is that expecting too much? I know that may double the cost of track, but here on the Wasatch front there are between three and four tracks now down side by side. The entire time I was on Frontrunner only one Union Pacific freight train passed on their two or three tracks. I can only assume UTA failed to negotiate successfully with Union Pacific for coordinated use of their lines. Maybe some research on this topic could be enlightening.

Once again, I have cause to compare to the wonderful Italian trains that don’t stop randomly, and are regularly on time. I know that is not fair. To truly compare the two systems, lets give UTA millions of dollars more, and another 20 years to get its feet established and head on straight.

But it is hard not to compare…