Full Moon Free solo

Johnson, VT, Fall 2015
 
Some time in October it was my friend's 21st birthday. To celebrate we decided to have a party on top of Prospect Rock, a popular hang out place that also happened to be the local climbing crag. Despite it being in the middle of the Green Mountains, Prospect had a slight urban feel. It was definitely more of a party place than a climbing destination. The base of the cliff was littered with broken glass, once I even spied a broken tv in the talus field. A particularly memorable moment was while mid-way up the center part of the cliff I had to dodge a falling beer bottle, tossed off by a rather drunk local. I topped out and berated him, and he sloppily asked me what I was doing climbing the rocks...
 
Still, I would climb there semi-regularly with friends. It was a great place to take beginners as the climbs were on the easier side, and usually less than vertical. I would free solo the easiest pitches on occasions when I couldn’t find a partner. Admittedly, it wasn’t the best idea. The rock was often dirty and loose (and having to dodge the random beer bottle was never a thrill that I liked to entertain.)
 
My friend's birthday also happened to be on a night with a full moon, which meant the party was going to rage. I was feeling restless that day, full moons usually do that to me. I hadn’t climbed in a few days. I knew that once I got there I would inevitably solo something, and the thought of soloing something under a full moon was very delightful. We arrived at Prospect right as the sun set and made a fire. Like every college party, joints were being passed around and everybody was drinking. For a while I abstained from the festivities, as I wanted to keep as clear of a mind as I could.
 
A few hours passed and the party really got going, and I was getting more and more anxious. The moon was enormous, you didn’t even need a headlamp to see clearly, and there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. There were around 50 people there, and to no one's surprise a handful of them were engaged in a drum circle. Someone stumbled up to me “Hey man, you want a potion?” he said sloppily and held out his hand. “Sure” I responded without hesitation. I eyed its gold and blue contents and quickly imbibed. The taste of styrofoam invaded my mouth and coated my throat. I felt a slight surge of energy. It was go-time.
 
With a twinkle in my eye, I took off down the trail towards the base of the slabs. I arrived at the ground, out of breath. I took a few minutes to slow my heart-rate, trying not to think about anything in particular. I hadn’t brought any climbing gear except for approach shoes. I looked up at the long, smooth slab. It felt imposing under the night sky. I had led the route before and even soloed it, but I had never soloed anything in the dark, in fact I’d only climbed one pitch in the dark prior to this occasion.
 
Climbing in the dark has a slight mystical feeling to it. Generally your entire vision is limited to the light of your headlamp, making heights feel smaller than they are, but the void feel like an infinite black hole. With the full moon I could see everything almost as clear as day. Right before I began to climb I hesitated. “Are you sure this is the right thing to do? You can always walk back up the trail and enjoy the party with your friends.” I thought back to the blue and gold styrofoam. Before I could answer myself, I began to climb. I quickly found my groove, palming the holdless wall and smearing with my feet. Friction was my best friend. The route I chose was about 150 feet long, one of the longest routes on the cliff. I always felt like leading the climb with a rope was kind of a joke since the protection was so spaced out you wouldn’t want to fall anyways.
 
About half way up there was a small ledge just big enough to where I could comfortably turn around and face outward. Being above the tree line I could see everything; the wonderful river below where my friends and I would lazily float rafts on hot summer days, the beautiful mountain Whiteface towered over everything in the distance, and a farm sat quietly in the meadow below. I stood there for a while just taking in the scenery. Then my heart started to beat a little faster. I turned back around to continue the climb. A little further up I pulled over a bulge in the rock and looked back over my shoulder. I was expecting to see the slab below me, but because of the darkness (despite the illuminating moon) all I saw was the tops of trees and the empty void. My hands began to sweat and I wiped them on my shorts. My heart started to beat a little faster, and I began to feel a slight tingling sensation wiggle its way throughout my body. Doubt began to fill my mind, and I began to think about things that no one should be thinking of while in my current situation.
 
I pondered the impact my body would have with the ground if I slipped. How many times would I bounce down the slab before I hit the ground? I thought of my mother, and how devastated she would be to learn that her son had died free soloing. I wondered if my friends  even noticed that I was gone. Would they even be able to help? “Was this really worth it?” My heart was beating louder and louder. Soon I felt it throughout my whole body. “Why is my heart beating so loudly?” I asked myself. My world was slowly starting to melt away. The sky started getting darker and darker. Everything grew quiet, except for my beating heart. The rock began to turn to glass and for a moment it felt as if I was going to slip…  
 
Then I heard the drums. They echoed throughout the valley and penetrated my silent world. It then occurred to me that my heart was beating to the ferocious rhythm the drum circle had conjured up. For some reason the notion came off as really silly to me and I began to laugh, and I recognized the complete absurdity of my existence. Soon all of my fear dissipated and I was filled with vibrating energy. I let out a huge howl at the moon, and the moon howled back. Hearing me and the moon's conversation, my friends howled as well, and for a while we just howled back and forth. My world stopped melting, and the sky became clear again. I felt a deep gratitude for being alive, and sensed an acute awareness of my ephemeral being.
 
I snapped back to focus. I was about 100 feet up a rock face and fully committed. It would be much harder to down climb the slab. The easiest way off the cliff was up. So I continued to climb up. In those last few feet my mind went completely blank, it didn’t feel like I was 100 feet up the wall with no rope, it felt like I was just floating. When I did the final move at the top I quickly grabbed a tree root, just to make sure that I didn’t continue to float away. I sat there contemplating the experience I just had; the moments of terror, and bliss. I decided that yes, it was worth it, but that I had soloed that night for the wrong reasons, and I would never make that same mistake again. I looked up at the moon as it liquified into the night sky. With eyes wide and a huge grin on my face I stood up slowly and walked back to the party to continue the celebration with my friends.
 
*Note* Free-soloing is incredibly dangerous. One false move and you will certainly die. It is also a very personal experience. My decisions and actions were mine, and mine alone to make. I am only sharing this story with you because it was an experience that shaped who I am today. And definitely don't free-solo on drugs!