“I am losing precious days. I am degenerating into a machine for making money. I am learning nothing in this trivial world of men. I must break away and get out into the mountains to learn the news.”
John Muir
With heaps of comforts available to mankind, why would anyone want to escape and live in the wild for a few days? I often wondered! Here is an honest confession - I have not been overly outdoorsy my entire life. I mean, I have always loved hiking and being close to nature. But, nothing utterly adventurous. In the past, I have preferred going to the fanciest hotels to indulge myself in man-made luxuries; it’s quite recent that I have developed a liking for and have begun to appreciate the life outdoors. And man, I can’t get enough of it.
When my friend, Andy, first told me we were going on a camping trip to the mountains with two of his other friends, I was both curious and thrilled. Didn't really think too much about what the camping trip would entail. Instead, I was simply pumped up about my first ever rock climbing experience in a natural setting. I was ecstatic to have had a chance to explore more of the natural beauty that Australia has to offer. We loaded up and headed to the Grampians! For those, who do not know, the first thing to know about Grampians is Mount Arapiles. It is the premier climbing site, popular amongst rock climbers across the world.
Being a novice in a group of experienced climbers and regular campers, I dreaded them to be frustrated with being ‘saddled’ with me, but it was just the opposite. They were kind, encouraging and patient, while I struggled with the challenges of the two Cs. Sometimes I would also struggle with what they would ‘utter’ – climbers have their own sweet tongue. Seriously! There is a lot to learn! Belaying, top-roping, cams, hexes and whatnot! Phew! Often times, I played dumb and deaf. I had to! Not everything made sense!
To say that rock climbing was not challenging for me would be an understatement and a preposterous lie. It was spine-chilling! Like literally. Every time I mustered up the courage to climb, my heart would race, my stomach growled out of fear, my throat dried and I sensed a chilling sensation running down my spine. I was at the end of the rope! (this idiom makes more sense today than ever before).
As I climbed up the steep rocks and massive boulders, I grabbed sharp edges. My once soft and delicate hands became coarse and full of scratches. To stabilize myself on steep edges, I had to balance my legs between crevices. The pain of overused muscles and joints was daunting, mate. My knees ached as I tried not to fall off. The bruises on my knees stayed for weeks and reminded me of my childhood days. I haven’t had bruised knees in years (let’s not say how many!). Remember, all this is happening under the notorious Australian sun! And I only felt it burning my skin after the initial euphoria of the adventure settled in.
The best part of the trip (apart from the incredible company) was being surrounded by nature - hearing the native Aussie bird, kookaburra, cracking into fits of laughter; watching emus, kangaroos and wallabies in their natural habitat; the leaves rustling in the trees around us at the campsite; and the mighty rocks abutting the area as far as the eyes could reach. There were hills just up our campsite, lined with rocks of different sizes and contortions. While hiking up our way, beating around thorny branches, I marveled at the beauty of the raw state of the earth. The paved streets and well-groomed roadways of the city looked pale in comparison now; I had forgotten (or probably never knew) that even simple rocks, ancient in age and smooth from the turbulence of their upbringing, would provide a sight worth seeing and reminiscing.
Luckily, while camping, you aren’t expected to be on your A-game. So, I didn’t have to dress to kill, not that I do that in everyday routine, but knowing I didn’t have to ‘select’ a dress every morning, helped me appreciate myself in my most raw, natural state. I was a happy camper - spent the entire weekend in my yoga pants! Ah, comfy!
There were also some things I wasn't so fond of, however. Number one being the concept of a drop-toilet. Gross!!! Now, I'm not known for being prissy, but the first time I stepped into one of those, my heart spewed up. Remember, if you ever have to use one, ‘do not’, and I repeat ‘do not’ look down. You will not find a pot of gold at the bottom of it. I’m saying this from experience. Also, practice holding your breath a few times before going in. Breathing inside a pit toilet can be a gut-wrenching experience. Obviously, it does not smell anything like a raspberry-topped pavlova or a freshly baked pizza. Not that I thought you would expect that!
Also encountered a few uncanny varieties of lizards, that my Aussie mates thought were ‘cute’. Gosh! Does cute really mean what I think it means?
When you reach the mountaintop, feelings of accomplishment overtake every fragment of your soul and body. Fear merely remains an extraneous part of the whole experience. Hugging the Grampians, I felt secluded from the rest of the world. In that moment I united with nature. Exposing myself to the grandeur and wonder of nature helped me gain more insight into my strengths than I could ever imagine. I could hear the mountains cheering for me. I could feel the mountains witnessing my courage. It was stimulating. It was liberating.
I felt nomadic, and it felt like home.
Each climber, each camper was once a first timer. And so was I. But not anymore.
