J.C. help me out here. Am I dreaming or did the story I'm about to relate really happen on Sunday?
I totally lost track of time, location and the greater world while I was leading that aid pitch. I have no idea how long it took me, maybe an hour and a half or two hours. From the time I left the vertical wall until I clipped the bolt out on the lip I was completely gripped, expecting that sudden "ping" of a pin letting loose, and then the slam into the wall, or maybe into the ground.
Once I clipped the bolt I could relax some. But by then I was totally worked, and just about to puke. Still, I knew I had to finish the route. So I grabbed my tag line, got as high as I could on the bolt, and tried to throw the rope over the huge tree branch where the route ends. After failing at this, I decided that I had no choice but to free the moves up to the branch. So Tricia tied my climbing shoes onto the tag rope and I hauled them up and put them on. By now I was cramping. Sweat had soaked my shirt, and dirt and small rocks were stuck all over me (every pin placement resulted in rock crumbling down into my face, into my hair, and down my shirt - after I finished I cleaned at least a half a dozen pea-size rocks out of my damned underwear alone!).
I had no idea how hard the free moves would be. They didn't look hard, and by now all I had to fear was a free fall into space if I fell, which is quite a different prospect than a slam against the wall. So I did the moves; 5.6 on decent rock, up to where I could chimney between the big tree branch and the face of Machete. I was then able to gently swing over into a straddle position on top of the big branch, where I tied myself in. I realized at that point that I'd done it and that getting down was now only a matter of a little rope work.
That's when IT happened - at least I think it did.
As I am sitting on the branch, bathed in sweat, still feeling like barfing, relaxing slowly, I hear a woman's voice. A wondrous voice, somewhat like what I'd imagine a Goddess' voice would sound:
"Thanks."
I look down over at the voice. She's on the trail. There she is, the goddess; literally a beautiful woman, maybe 30 years old; I know instantly that she's the goddess because she's got long, curly, light brown hair that matches her voice. She's obviously out hiking for the day. Now, I'm thoroughly worked sitting up on that tree branch, but it's not just the condition I'm in - she really is beautiful. And she says:
"Thanks. That was a once in a lifetime experience."
And, as I sit there - I think, my tongue was hanging out - I immediatley think two things: the first is "what?" And, well, let's just say that the second thought passed through my mind very quickly and it isn't the type of thing that a happily married man would say out loud to a woman that he hasn't even met. And, since I am very happily married, I didn't say a thing. At least I don't think I said anything. I may have grunted. And then, as quickly as she'd appeared, she was off, gone down the trail.
John, was I delusional? Did any of that actually happen. Did you see her then, or at all?
