The seasons came and went as it watched; never moving from its solitary post, still following the last task it was given.  The seasons eventually turned into years and finally the years became eons, yet still it waited and watched.  Eventually even the mountains slowly eroded away and the rivers shifted their course even the animals had evolved and change. Only it remained the same, condemned to seemingly remain forever as it was.   Eventually Homo sapiens showed up and as it watched them travel by in small groups learning and developing into a society it found itself feeling something new as it watched their behavior.  Looking at one such group as they travelled through the mountain pass below it observe and gave thought to how humans reminded it of its own creators. A curious race human, always seeming to be moving, never standing still, yet so much like its creators.  It thought once again about them, those who foolishly created it, how their curiosity had lead to its creation and how their ignorance lead to that that last foolish command. A single thoughtless command given that destroyed them and their world forever. Looking at the humans in the valley below for the first time in its existence it felt sadness. Knowing that eventually they would also find a way to destroy themselves and in the process take this life filled world with them.

Looking down was definitely a big mistake I thought, as I swung there on the rock. I was, hanging on by my fingertips a hundred feet up the cliff face trying desperately not to fall.  Seeing the misty valley stretch below my dangling feet was not helping me either.  Not the worst situation I had ever been in but definitely in the top five.  Looking to my left a couple feet over I could see what looked like a small crevice. It was little more than a crack in the cliff that “might” barely be wide enough for my foot to fit in.  It was also in the direction of a narrow ledge that gave promise of a place I could rest and recover, if I could make it.  Now all I had to do was find some way to swing across and reach it. Measuring the distance with my eye I thought I might be able to reach the crevice with my foot if I swung out and around while stretching my leg out. Once there I could hopefully then wedge my boot in far enough to get the leverage needed to reach the ledge.  It might not be the best plan but with my fingers starting to cramp up it looked like it was going to be my best bet. Clinging tightly to the cliff face I tried to psych myself up to making the attempt.  Thinking back to how I got myself in this predicament.

Dad met mom on a save the whales expedition. Their favorite story was of their first meeting on a small inflatable Zodiac boat that was trying to keep between whalers and the whales they were trying to sphere.  From the stories they would tell me they fell in love on that trip while chasing a factory whaling ship and its catcher fleet across the pacific.  They were always away on one cause or another but whenever possible would take me with them.  I’m sure having a little kid with them on the trips cut down on their environmental efforts, but they never said anything about it.  Sometimes I think that might be where I got my wanderlust and dislike for what civilization has done to nature.   But the truth was I just didn’t want to be around people or grow attached to anyone who could just disappear from me like my parents.

For most of my life I have been going off to somewhere alone and private to think things out.  I don’t remember being that way when I was younger but after my parents died I spent weeks under my bed at the orphanage hiding from the world.  The orphanage was crowded, noisy and filled with sad, unwanted kids.  I wasn’t the only kid there trying to get away from it all.  Eventually the authorities managed to contact my uncle and get him to accept responsibility for me.  They didn’t tell me why it took so long but after the director there told me my uncle was coming for me it still took two weeks before he showed up. I had never met him an only heard my parents mention him a couple of times.  Waiting those two weeks I kept going back and forth about meeting him and wondering if he would be like dad or even like me.  Later as I kept waiting I started to wonder he had changed his mind about me and wasn’t coming.  I don’t really remember what I was feeling the day he finally showed up.  I really only remember seeing him for the first time in the director’s office signing some forms for her.  He looked at me for a second then turned to the director and asked her what my name was.

.   He showed up t the orphanage in a limo with a driver.   As we drove to his estate in it the only thing I remember him saying to me was that I would be starting school on the following Monday and his housekeeper would make sure I had what I needed for going.  When we pulled up to his house he told the drive to take me around to the garage and show me where I would be staying. It turned out to be in a one room garage apartment over where he kept his limo.  The room was small but clean and had a bed and small kitchenette.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Those first few days I wanted to go right back to hiding under the bed but it was a platform bed with drawers under it.  No place for me and no closet in the room to use either.  I stayed alone in the room for two days until I got hungry enough come out and look for food. In my hunt for it I managed to find the estates kitchen and met Hannah.  She was my uncle’s live-in cook and the first friendly person I had met since the funeral.  Hannah was a blue hair grandmotherly type who took the job of being a live-in cook in her words “so I wouldn’t be a burden on my kids”. After she found me going through the kitchen cabinets looking for something to eat she asked me what my favorite meal and then cooked it up. It was one of the best tasting burgers I have ever had.  It did surprise her seeing me in the kitchen, not just because of where I was but also that she hadn’t been told I had even arrived yet.  After feeding me she kindly explained when meals were normally served and how I could get my clothes cleaned.  Later she eventually showed me how to cook in my little kitchenette and take care of myself.

Hannah had a son and a daughter both married and living a few hours away.  The son Jack would come visit her ever month or so.  Hannah had told me that he loved to rock climb, something my parents loved to do.  After months of pleading he eventually caved in and took me with him on some of his simpler climbs. He was a good teacher and taught me how to safely climb the cliffs around Montgomery.  I had a lot of good memories with Hannah and her son Jack but eventually Hannah retired and left.  out and taught me rock climbing.  After Hannah retired Jack no longer came around.   I still went climbing by myself, not something Jack would have approved climbing alone but something I had to do.  The solitude and thrill of going somewhere no one else had been made me heady with pleasure.  A feeling that I sorely needed in my life.

Well, I thought it’s now or never as I found my left hand starting to tremble.  Taking a firm grip on a small protrusion on the side of the cliff face I started swinging my feet back and forth I finally let go of one hand and stretched my leg out wide to reach that crack for a shaky foothold. Scrambling a bit, I managed to shift till I was hanging flat against the cliff with my legs spread in a wide split like a gymnast or that old Belgian martial arts star. With my face pressed against the bird scat covering the cliff face. I thought about how I must look to those same birds if they saw me now.  I must really be a spectacle, like a bug on a car windshield. After some wiggling of my foot, I finally got a decent bit of support wedging my boot into the crack.  Looking at the ledge it now looked like I could inch over and swing onto the ledge.  Of course, now that I had gotten a good look at it, it wasn’t much of a ledge.  At its widest it looked only about 18 inches, and it ran for only a few feet at a slight downward angle. There was a small shrub at the end of the ledge, just sprouting right off the cliff face.  Still any port in a storm and I desperately needed it to recover from my climb

Of course, going to deserted areas on my own to free climb a cliff that I’m sure no one had ever climbed before might be going a little too far.  Still reaching someplace like this little ledge on the side of a cliff makes me think I might finally have reached someplace that was truly unspoiled. A rare feeling when even the most difficult and well protected hiking areas show the leftover beer cans and wrappers of those who’ve already gone there before. In the 21st century it’s surprising how unlikely it is to go anywhere and not see evidence of people lying around.   I’ve lost count of the number of times I found what I thought would be a quiet, out of the way spot but when I got there it was too fine cigarette buts or beer cans lying around.  However, a place like this ledge I was heading too was so unassuming and hard to get to.  I had high hopes that it would be untouched nature but still half expecting find food wrappers, cans and people's names scratched into the rock. Even Everest had a graffiti problem now.  Climbers were leaving comments like "I was here" on the mountain.

One last quick scramble and I was at last sitting on the ledge gasping and wondering again why I kept putting myself through this crazy risk just to solo free climb.  I had thought the finding an untouched spot away from everyone was the reason but after that last desperate swing I was seriously rethinking it.  Finally recovering my breadth I took a good look around at the cliff shelf.  I couldn’t find any signs showing that anyone else had been there.  No scuff marks on the ledge, no left over gear and not even graffiti.  For some reason climbers seem love leaving messages like “someone loves someone else” inside a heart everywhere they climb.  The last rock face I climbed someone spent a lot of time scratching in a dirty limerick in large letters on the cliff face.  I spent two hours on that climb just trying to remove those marks but only managed to make them a bit less noticeable. But this time though there was nothing, just untouched nature around me as it should be. Deciding to enjoy the rare experience and view I setup to stay a bit longer, perched on the small ledge was too dangerous even for my sense of adventure so I quickly wedged a camalot into a suitable crack in the rock face and fasten myself to it. Now safe from falling I could enjoy the view, have a bite to eat and think about what I was going to be doing with my life from now on.