Sunday, November 4, 2012
I hate rapping. Worse is a free hanging abseil.
Twirling while descending, dangling, gravity claiming me, feeding the ropes through a metal maze affixed to my harness, hyperventilating, I located the landing spot.
The guidebook said the rappel was a 50 meter drop. The rope was shy. About a six foot gap. About a body length.
As I neared the ropes end, I stopped and clumsily added a prussic, locking myself in place. I was going to slip off the end of the rope and land neatly on the sloping rock. Not so gracefully, and with trust that all would be well, I did.
Today I picked up a book being held for me at the library. The librarian obviously tucked the title into my pile so it wasn't on top. My older son's eyes widened when I left it in the kitchen. Apparently it is infamous even amongst teens.
I may feel shy bringing it back to the library after I have finished reading it.