Harrowing Near-Death Encounters

I climbed a mountain... (!!!!!!!!!). I haven't revisited my fear of heights since I chickened out of the ropes course during 6th grade outdoor education. But this wasn't just any mountain-- this was Lion's Head on Signal Hill. We'd heard that it was only around an hour and a half to the summit so we packed wine and cheese in intense northface hikers backpacks, or in my case the standard one-pocket school sack in orange and blue that I hijacked from my basement.

It started off great as there was a well-travelled trail we were heading up. It wasn't too steep and we noticed many walkers and some runners (holy moly) moving up and down the mountain. The view was incredible within just the first 20 minutes, as this path was carved out of the side of the mountain and there were no trees impeding everything below. We were hustling to make it to the top in time for sunset because we'd caused a brawl between 3 taxi drivers about who was going to take us to the mountain and it held us up for a few minutes.

There was just enough time for Marlee and a few others to climb atop this enormous rock for pictures. On the other side of this rock was a drop off that fell what looked like a thousand feet to the city below. This was my first flirtation with my height phobia. I tried to climb up this massive boulder but between the two rocks that I was trying to shimmy up, I could see how quickly one would perish if they tripped or got pushed or if a massive gust of wind blew through (not uncommon). I gave it a few tries a Marlee's insistence, but ultimately went running back to the path when a cloud enveloped us and our visibility dropped to only a few feet (glad I wasn't on the rock for that!).

Onwards we climbed, noticing there was less and less path and more and more rocks. We grabbed onto dirty earth with our hands and wedged our sneakers in whatever footholds we could find as our hike became what Marlee likes to refer to as a "vertical jungle climb." Mind you, we're moving at a furious pace now as we round the mountain and see clearly that the neon sun is going to bed. There are two ladders, two chain climbs, and a couple places where I was sure this mountain was going to make us pay with one of our lives in order to get to the top.

With about 10 minutes to spare, the last of the group dragged themselves over the lip and it became immediately clear that it was so worth it. So high that we were above the clouds, I couldn't stop myself from thinking: this must be heaven and we just climbed the stairway. The world was ending as the clouds undulating off the ocean swallowed the city below. After taking rounds of pictures and a video(!) we sat at the top of the hill and enjoyed the endorphins... and the wine. Marlee knew I was going to be a mental case on the way down, so in typical Marlee fashion she insisted we purchase a couple bottles of $3 wine from the discount liquor store (think building 19 for alcohol).

We shared them amongst the group of 12, laughing and enjoying for a few minutes past when we should have. Then someone mentioned the setting sun. The hot globe had dissapeared and only a peach glow lit the horizon and it was fading fast. We threw on our packs and began the scramble down against an altogether new enemy: darkness.

We knew if we didn't make it down the sheer rock portion of the trail in 15 minutes we'd be in big trouble. Only one person in our group had a working flashlight and it would have been a nightmare trying to get 12 people down the chains in that scenario. It was anyway as many of us opted out of the chain route on the way up, but were forced to do it on the way down because it was faster. Picture me, feeling the effects of the wine just enough to not have a heart attack clutching a thick iron chain, trying to repel down the side of a mountain 30 feet. Thank God for Charlie-- one of the guy on the climb guided us down and even let us use his hands as footholds. My hands are bruised this morning from the attempt and I flaunt them proudly-- battle wounds. We didn't make it in the time frame but the hardest part was over when the sun set. With nothing but faint illumination from the city on our right Marlee and I held hands and moved cautiously towards the Boogie Bus that Marlee called to take us from the bottom to a Mexican Restaurant called Fat Cactus. We passed several security gaurds stationed on the mountain on the way down who sat in the darkness with german shepards at their sides, ready to spring on mountain robbers which are all too common after dark.

The thumping base of the boogie bus that rattled my chest was relieving compared to the silence of the mountain. The lack of noise on the way down was only interrupted momentarily by renditions of "Hey Baby" and "Build Me Up Buttercup" to strengthen team moral.

It's true what they say about feeling close to people that you face your fears with.

Love from above the clouds in the most beautiful place on earth,

A