Seneca Rocks

I have spent the past three days climbing a fantastic pile of rocks. It is like God was bored one day and decided to stack rocks, one boulder on top of another. I'll post pictures as soon as I have access to do so, but for the meantime, think of a giant fingernail sticking out of the ground, 900 feet tall, 100 feet thick, large enough to take you a day to walk around the base.

After hiking, it takes four to five 100 meter pitches to reach the top, each one scarier than the last as we edge our way above the tree line, above soaring birds, above every hill in sight. On our first day we climbed easy routes to the summit, each of us repeating to ourselves, "it's not hard, it's just scary." Once acclimated to toeing along a ledge, attached by harness, rope, and rusty peton, we began to climb more challenging pitches. The next two days were unbelievable. I have never climbed so hard, or felt so satisfied to top out a tough route.

On top of the world, I could feel myself breathe and laugh with such ease. It was the feeling of being so overcome with delight that you can't help but giggle with joy. Pushing past my perceived physical limit, each climb was a new ecstasy, shared by incredible friends who know what it means to love deeply and wonder at the good in each other.

After setting up the final rappel, I was left alone on a cliff, waiting my turn to descend. Birds flew by, and I could hear the wind catch under each beat of their wings, a pulsing rhythm, that mingled with a low whistling of air over hollow spaces in the rock, and the shrill of eager crickets at twilight. Moments like these are so overwhelming for me, because I feel so small, yet so complete. Like everything makes sense all of the sudden, and I'm so overcome by the clarity and joy of insignificance that I can barely stand up straight, and all I want is to hang on to the simplicity and beauty of this moment.

The chatter of my friends called me down and within minutes I was on the ground with them, hiking back to the van. As we drove back to Ace-land, the full moon rose orange, lighting the road home. I can't wait to show you the pictures.

My Home

Here's a look at my summer home in the hills. Thanks Immanuel.