Our Long Journey Home

We were, never in our existence, sure that we were worth this much trouble. But she thought differently. Granted, she probably did not expect the extent of the trouble she was signing up for, but she definitely thought we were worth the risk.

So, there she was, half the world away, exchanging messages with a friend who would be temporarily located at the side of the globe where we were. The plan to was to secure our purchase, pay extra for expedited shipping, and have us safely delivered to the friend, who would then bring us home by hand. Alas, our three-day journey with the courier proved too long. There was an inevitable change of plans with the friend, and she, the friend, had to leave one day before we got to where she was. We missed our passage home by just one day!

She was not devastated - she understood the risks of the undertaking right from the start - but was sorely disappointed. The first option was to have us returned. The horror! However, while the return arrangement was in the midst of being made, another idea struck her. Why, she has family in the area! Of course, since they are living there, it is very unlikely that they could get us to her, but maybe we could stay with them (indefinitely) until such time when opportunity of being taken home would chance upon us!

So, she asked, and the cousin said yes - she, the cousin, wouldn't mind picking us up, and keeping us safe with her, until the time someone in the family makes travel plans. It might not have been the best option, but it definitely beat making a return. So, we went home with the cousin. There, in our foster home, we stayed more than a year. We stayed almost 15 months! To be honest, we didn't think we would ever come home. We didn't think we would ever get to know her.

Then, fate smiled upon us. Oh, fate! A friend would be visiting the part of the world where we were and staying for several weeks - more than enough time to arrange for us to get to him. She extorted a "yes, I'll bring them back for you" out of him, communicated with the cousin... and, lo and behold! The cousin said she was booked to spend a few days vacationing at the very city the friend would be! Oh, fate!

All arrangements were made, the cousin safely hand-delivered us to the friend (we are eternally grateful to the both of them) and in a couple of weeks, we were home.

Home! Home to her, at long last!

Oh, how do we describe the overwhelming exhilaration we felt upon meeting her for the first time? How do we spell the intoxicating joy and excitement of finally being of use? How do we explain the contentment we feel to finally be at home? Ah, bliss!

Here are a few more photos she took of us -

We love her =D

Letting Go

After so long, most of the time, the warm-up lead is routine. A comfortable, easy, routine. The movement is fluid, like clockwork. The first clip is usually a breeze. Past the third clip, it is high enough to not hit the ground in case of a fall, unless the rope has way too much slack. After clipping in at the seventh, it is time to let go.

Staring at my hands, willing them to relinquish their hold, I block out the awareness of the distance I will drop. I inhale deeply, exhale, let go and let myself fall.

It seems easy. It is in fact, easy, for most climbers. It isn't for me, unfortunately. It is for me, the hardest part of my training. Many a time I simply couldn't do it. The fear isn't just in my head. It is real, it is crippling.

It's been three years since I took up sports climbing. It's been at least half as long since I took up lead climbing. The best I can do is clean a 5c (5.9) lead route. I can finish some 6a (5.10a) routes, but with one or two (or more!) rests, so they absolutely do not count. It is easy to blame my lack of progress on my lack of actual climbing - serious climbers climb 4 times a week, minimum, whereas I do once, sometimes not at all. My tiny stature - short limbs and all - makes a good excuse, as well as my limited brute strength and power, being a lady and all... *Ahem!*

Truth be told, even if I were more committed in my strength training in the gym, I'd still be held back by the one aspect I don't care to condition - mental strength. My climbing partner's been constantly reminding (which is how I politely mean nagging, scolding, threatening etc.) me to overcome my fear of falling.

This is the reason I am compelled to persist in the falling exercises - to learn to let go, and trust that everything will be fine. Yes, fine, in spite of risks of scrapes and bruises, and shameful involuntary squeals...

Chalk

(source)

Is this what I smear all over my hands? Cute! =P

Trango Cinch

When I first started climbing, I did only bouldering. I should think that is the logical manner to begin, for, when not yet certain if one will indeed take to this extreme sports, anyone with half a brain should know it isn't wise to invest in gear. A pair of reasonably-priced beginner shoes was the furthest I'd gone.

About six months into climbing, I got my own harness, ATC belay device and carabiner, and started top-roping regularly. It was a fortunate thing for me for having learned most of the basic stuff on the bouldering wall, for it afforded me more focus on overcoming my fear of heights (altophobia) and fear of falling from a high place (bathophobia) while top-roping.

A side note: I haven't come very far in those aspects... at present, I'm still scared, though at a relatively lesser degree.

Several months into top-roping, I was introduced to lead climbing. That was about a year and a half ago. All the while, for all the climbs, I used the ATC belay device.

An odd side note: ATC stands for Air Traffic Controller, and I have no idea why.

With the ATC, the belayer has to be on the alert, and focused on the climber all the time. If the climber takes a fall, his life will be, literally, in the belayer's hand. The right hand, in my case. Assisted-braking belay devices, on the other hand, have mechanisms to stop the rope according to the direction of the rope being pulled. The arguably most well-known of these is the GriGri (or now, GriGri 2) by Petzl. But no, we didn't get that.

We got Trango Cinch. I've never the opportunity to use a Gri Gri so I cannot fairly or accurately compare them both.

The Cinch is easy to use - the rope is enclosed inside, the climbing and belaying ends clearly marked.

The first time I used it I belayed a lead climber under the watchful eyes of an expert climber. As is the case with any new gear, it took some getting used to. For me, it was mainly the feeding - it took me several runs belaying for lead before I managed it fully smoothly and stress-free.

The "automatic locking", once the braking mechanism is set in, means the climber's life no longer rests in the hand of the belayer alone, although climbing safety rules dictate that the belayer should not let go of the free end of the rope at any time. Well, in case the belay device fails.

To be honest, though, the chances of the device failing probably will not be higher than that of the belayer panicking and letting go of the rope (during an unexpected fall), so I do think using the Cinch is safer than the simple ATC. Having said that, however, I also think it is important for new climbers to start off with ATC. I felt that the responsibility that came with using it trained me to really pay attention to the climber - not to take my eyes off him while he's climbing (as opposed to resting on tightened rope), and not to be distracted by sudden loud screams from the far corner of the climbing gym or a great-looking shirtless climber passing by... that sort of things. This sort of focus, I believe, is crucial, regardless of the type of the belay device used.

I don't believe I had ever posted so many photos of a single piece of gear here... this baby is just so pretty!

Climb safe, and don't take anything for granted.

Lost Monkey

There are times when a new piece of information sort of takes me by surprise for being fascinating, but at the same time doesn't actually shock me much for I've known it all along, somewhere at the back of my mind. I know this probably doesn't make much sense.

So, we were at the other side of Nanyang Wall, where I'd never been previously, and I'd foolishly (or bravely, if you will) failed two 6b (5.10c) routes. One of the guys then announced he wanted to do the Lost Monkey. This was the moment I felt that sudden wave of fascination at the fact that this route has a name, but then again, I'd always known that it is common that outdoor routes are named. In fact, some are downright famous.

The Lost Monkey is graded 6c (5.11b). The craziest thing about it, is not the overhang-all-the-way from the mid-point until nearly the anchor, or even the bit of almost-roof  just before the anchor, but the first several meters of ascent. This section is mostly slab, without bolts. That means a climber effectively does a free solo for several meters before getting to the point of the first clip.

The guy belaying asked with a laugh if I wanted to try it. I gave him what I believe was the involuntary wide-eyed, open-mouthed, flabbergasted look of you-gotta-be-kidding. Ask me again when I have muscles like you do. Ask me again when I am able to clean the 6bs without breaking sweat. If that could ever happen... =P

Damai Wall

Oh look - I'm back to blogging, and this is a post longer than a photo plus a few sentences!

You must be wondering, though, Reader - just how many different posts can I write on the same subject? Just how many different ways can I describe a rock face with bolts on it? Well, I don't know, but I keep trying =D

So, Damai is the only one (of the more popular climbing sites) at Batu Caves that I haven't covered. The place is way more "comfortable" than Nanyang and Nyamuk. There's a proper carpark (not as proper as being complete with neat white lines, but still...), well-maintained grounds with paved paths, benches, a small playground for children, and a nice footpath covered in a-sort-of rubber flooring right next to the wall. It's basically a small recreational park where one can also rock-climb. There are supposed to be public restrooms too, though I didn't manage to locate them.

The view, back-facing the wall:

And the view, back-facing the park:

I only realised after a while that my first few shots did not include *any* climbers currently climbing. So, here:

Anyway, unlike my regular climbing gym, outdoor routes are never marked with their difficulty. I'd usually ask if one is "difficult" before I start on it, but the answer's always that they're sure I could do it. So, really, I never know until I'm up there and I finish, or I hurt one of my joints and have to give up.

After a relatively lengthy break from climbing, I got started on a purportedly 6a+. Reader, you must know that I can barely complete a 6a indoor route even when climbing regularly. But hey, no one wants to put up with a total wimp, so when the guy told me it's "mostly OK, with just a couple of cruxes", I said alright, I'll give it a try. I got stuck at the first crux for quite a while (poor belayer, but thank goodness he was so patient!) but I got past it. Belayer commented "Wow, you got past that part!" and that sort-of compliment got me really motivated to go on, despite the throbbing pain in my left shoulder, which sort of got pulled the wrong way getting past "that part". The human brain is very funny - I had studied how it reacts to compliments, understood how shallow such feel-good-stimulants can be - and yet, I still get affected by them. In a good way, in this instance, of course. Anyway, mind over matter isn't always enough to achieve what is beyond my physical limits. At the second crux, just a little way below the second last runner, my lack of height, length of limbs and brute strength failed me. I did not manage to finish the route. I think it's that crux that gives the otherwise 6a route the "+". Oh, well.

I did two more on that occasion, and finished both, though one of them I managed partly because the belayer wouldn't let me down unless I went all the way up (her version of motivation, but yea, it worked...)

Reader, now I am going to digress.

At times, when I read about people who travel the world, set up camps and spend all day just climbing, I feel pangs of envy. I mean, I'd love to do that too, wouldn't I? Climb till the skins come off my hands, rub antiseptic all over them, and then climb some more! Well, maybe not to that extreme - I am not a fan of open wounds and bloody smears on the rocks - but seriously, wouldn't it be really fun to climb until I get sick of climbing? (Oh... no, I'll never get sick of climbing... what a nonsensical thought! A man was cleaning my 4th floor office window - from the *outside* - today and when I took a peek at him through the blinds, I noticed, of all things, that he was wearing a Petzl harness. Yea, climbing has become that much part of me now.)

Imagine - a few awesome days (or weeks!) away from the responsibilities of regular life, just camping and climbing. I know my last camping trip didn't go so well. I also shudder at the mere thought of having no proper toilet / shower, or worse, having to use the toilet when something I'm really scared of is in it... (a small part of the trip I didn't share was that my friend, who was and still is, terrified of frogs, had to use the toilet in the middle of the night and there was a frog right on the wall inside..... in case you're wondering, yes, frogs can totally perch on walls - see the following photo, which by the way, was taken in the bathroom in my house and is totally unrelated to whatever I'm writing about now *ahem*)

I'm not scared of frogs, but there are other things that'll freak me out. No, I'm not going to make a list. I think I made my point.

Despite all that - wouldn't it still be grand to just camp and climb, and not think about any of the things that upset me? Simply grand!

Right, end of digression, end of post.

Good night, world!

Nyamuk Wall

One of the first things I learned about this place is how its name ("nyamuk" means mosquito in Malay) indicates its regular inhabitants. Literally. There is no direct access, so from where the cars were parked, we had to walk a short distance through a housing area to its edge, where a trail begins. From the start of the trail leading to this climbing spot, it is a short 5-minute hike (about 10, for someone like me, of course). It isn't a clear-path hike, mind you - we had to climb over boulders, zig-zag around impenetrable obstacles, and keep from tripping on tree roots (fine, this last point is applicable only to me). Although the experienced climbers joked about the hike being the warm-up, they seemed hardly worked up at all by it. On the other hand, I got all flushed and was sweating like mad. And that, with a girl climber having helped carry my rope! *major embarrassment*

The rock face here is much higher than the part of Nanyang Wall that we climbed previously. It has but a narrow ledge upon which the climbers and their gear perch, with very little room to walk about to and fro. I don't know how the other climbers do it on 2 legs, but when I had to move about, I did on all fours, plus my butt for additional stability. *ahem* I am so not outdoor-trained.

The site itself is lovely - quiet, secluded, and sufficiently distanced from highways, buildings and other forms of civilisation.

There are quite a number of routes set-up here, the easiest being 5cs. I do not know for sure how high most of them go, but I would estimate they're at least 25 meters on average. This is because the modest 50m rope I brought was only enough to climb about three-quarters of one of the average-length routes.

At first, we were the only ones there, and the climbers jokingly cheered at being able to hog the entire place to ourselves. We put our gear down, and they proceeded to unpack various types of insect repellents. I was handed a can and instructed to spray it all over my legs. Some sprayed the repellent all over their arms as well. Coils were lit and placed at convenient corners all around.

The name of this place isn't a joke. Within no more than ten minutes getting there, I'd had to brush away several nyamuks, eager for a meal, from my arms. Of course, while some fussed a little, no one would actually let those little things get in the way of a good climb. As we got ready to start, more climbers arrived.

While most of the climbers there that day could've completed the 5c and 6a routes, I think, not every one is up to lead. Thankfully, we have Sifu, who, as usual, graciously led several and set them up as top-ropes for the rest of us. Sure, some of the stronger climbers also led every single time. Not me though... I needed the assurance of a safely anchored rope!

There is something inexplicably gratifying and extremely enjoyable climbing such long but none-too-difficult routes. They say it takes endurance, but I hardly felt it. There were plenty of good positions for momentary rests, a soft breeze keeping me cool all the way up and the constant eagerness to find out where and what's the next hold like. Unlike indoor colour-coded routes, every next move is an exploration - even more so for the first-timer. It is, I must say, intoxicating and totally addictive. I now understand why serious climbers all have an addiction problem.

A little while after we'd begun, we heard thunder rumbling at a distance. The climbers insisted it's no more real than hallucinations, and laughed it off. I don't think they find it physically possible to stop unless they actually feel raindrops on their heads and noses. It's great.

So, we climbed on. Against the darkened sky, rolling thunder and stronger winds, we climbed on.

And you know, Reader, it never actually did rain until dinner time, which is usually when they would stop anyway.

I don't know if it is possible to continue climbing after it gets dark, but it must be, for as we were leaving, there were others still climbing. On my clumsy hike down, I got in the way of a lone climber going up. He eyed me for two seconds, then promptly stepped aside to let me stumble past him, (probably) lest I should stumble on him... *yikes*

Verticale

There is this climbing gear store that I've been meaning to visit. Reader, you may remember this post from some months ago. I finally dragged my heavy bottom off my comfy chair last Sunday and got myself there! It is nestled within a neat little commercial area no more than 10 - 15 minutes' drive from some of the favourite climbing spots at Batu Caves... a most befitting location, indeed.

The moment I stepped in, the friendly staff greeted me warmly and offered me a chair. You wonder why? Well, I was half-panting (the shop is on the 3rd floor, but seriously, what kind of climber am I to start losing breath after just 3 flights of stairs? *sigh*) The store is modest in size, but extremely well-stocked. They carry every climbing necessity from the very basic shoes, harnesses etc., to headlamps and even ice axes!

(I only had with me a wimpy compact camera, Reader, so please excuse the quality of the photos)

*pretty pretty pretty*

*new arrival, in a cool black!*

There is something inherently different, special, about a gear shop run by climbers for climbers. At one corner of the amazing little place, there is a bouldering wall. Yes, an actual bouldering wall with crash pads, complete with a 7a+ route marked out!

See? I'm not joking about the 7a+:

I imagine, other than satisfying the climbing addiction of the staff when on staff-duty, the wall gives a huge plus point if a customer looking to buy shoes wants to get a feel of how those shoes would perform on the rocks.

I did not get onto the wall there, but I did try their slackline (in retrospect, I should have tried that crazy 7a+ and see how miserably I'd fail!) Walking on the slackline is supposed to train one's balance, focus and core strength. If one can get on it at all. I couldn't. I tried several times and each time, I wobbled off before I even got completely on. Climbing Sifu tried to help by sitting on the line to stabilize it for me, but even then, I could only manage to stand on it only for fractions of seconds longer before falling off, as usual. It was awfully embarrassing, but Sifu, being the good, professional Sifu he is, didn't laugh at me. :D

*Sifu*

Needless to say, there isn't any photo of me on the slackline. I mean, if someone were to attempt to take a shot of me up there, he / she would have to use a super high-speed camera, like those used in Time Warp, considering how extremely momentarily I remained on it!

Visit them virtually at -
http://www.verticale.my/

Or, physically at -
2-105, Jalan Prima Sg 3/2, Taman Sri Gombak, 68100 Batu Caves, Selangor, Malaysia

Nanyang Wall

Early morning on a bright, beautiful Sunday, I received a message from my climbing buddy. Some of our climbing friends would be at Nanyang Wall later that day, and asked if we'd like to join them. At first, I was undecided - the place is quite a distance to drive to. I'm not sure I can find the exact spot even with GPS navigation (mountainsides have no formal addresses) and frankly, even though I was real excited about trying the outdoors, part of me was still terrified. Terrified, but all the same excited about the whole prospect of going outdoors!

By the end of the morning, however, I'd decided I would go (you'd already guessed, I'm sure, for this post wouldn't be otherwise!)

My faithful GPS navigator brought me safely to the given address. I was in front of a couple of rows of shops and facing a residential area. Although I could see vast rock faces surrounding the buildings, all the way into the distance, I had no idea where I was suppose to head to. I decided to wait for climbing buddy to arrive, but after 15 or so minutes, it seemed too much of a waste of time (later, I found out he was late because his not-so-faithful GPS caused him a wrong turn and he ended up going for a spin in KL). I walked to a nearby guardhouse (hauling along all my gear, including the rope! Seriously, I don't know why I do things like this...) I asked a security guard the way to the climbing spot. He pointed me down a somewhat deserted lane, which ended in a sort of rickety old wood-and-wire-mesh gate, secured by a metal chain with a padlock. Beyond the gate was a stretch of sheer rock wall. I followed the curve of the road, separated from the wall by a huge drain (or a tiny river) and saw some climbers at the far end. Great, I found the place - but with the locked gate in the way, how do I get to them? I walked back to the guardhouse.

I confirmed with the fella that the way is through the gate, and told him that the gate was locked. He referred me to someone else - an elderly gentleman, whom I think might be the "gatekeeper". He was probably supposed to unlock the gates for climbers, but was having his afternoon tea and snack and didn't appear too eager to leave his meal. He started telling me of another guy I could go to, when I decided that if it takes that much trouble to get it, I really should wait for climbing buddy to reach first, so we wouldn't need to trouble these chain of "gatekeepers" twice. I told him in the nicest way possible that I'd wait for my friend to come before asking again. Then, I went across the street and walked around a little, with my bags of rope, harness, shoes and water bottle still hanging off me.

Several minutes later, I thought I saw climbing buddy's car go by. As I went back near the guardhouse, the "gatekeeper", still not done with his late-afternoon teatime, called out to me. He explained to me how I could get past the locked gate, with a stern warning to not tell anyone. Whoa, seriously. I think I must've looked so very pitiful - wandering aimlessly, waiting for a seemingly no-show friend, wearily shouldering huge bags of gear - that the good man was overwhelmed by sympathy.

In the manner taught by the "gatekeeper", climbing buddy and I managed to gained access to the wall where the other climbers had been since a couple of hours ago.

We were greeted by this delightful sight -

We were eager to start, and a fellow climber would teach us how.

"There are several easier routes here," he said, leading the way to the other side of the wall. "5c's and 6a's..." He pointed to an easy 5c route which he said we could start off with.

One of the first things he taught us was the proper way to do a "system", which is something (oh, gosh!) that should be done with the rope at the anchor once the climber has reached the top, so he can be lowered safely. For the first climb, expert climber friend started by breezing up the route with climbing buddy belaying. He placed all the runners in the series of bolts along the route and an anchor right at the top. Once secured, he called out a command which we thought sounded like climbing buddy can stop belaying now, and thought we must've heard wrongly. While we were giving each other confused looks, the rope supposedly attached to him fell to the ground. Our jaws dropped.

Ah, us inexperienced fools! He was meant to be safely anchored at the top so when the new outdoor climber leads his way there, he could supervise the first-timer in correctly doing the "system". Well, well! So, climbing buddy tied the rope to his harness, started climbing and made it to the top without any problems. He did all he was supposed to do - the "system" - under the diligent eyes of expert climber friend, and was lowered back down the usual manner.

But our friend was still up there. We wondered if someone should belay him for his descent. There's no need, he said. Once again, we gave each other confused looks - how would he get down? While we were not done trying to understand, he was already on his way, rappelling using his Grigri, collecting the earlier placed runners along the way. Oh, but he's using just one side of the rope, I wondered aloud, so how does it not slip, with the other side seemingly hanging down loosely? He landed beside us, safely, soundly and gracefully, some 10 seconds later. Then, tugging the other side of the rope, he pulled down the section at which a clever loop was tied to a carabiner and around the strand he rappelled down on. Unfastening the knots, he retrieved all his equipment and the rope was left hanging through the anchored loop, ready for top-roping attempts. I was so impressed! (Oh, don't roll your eyes... it was my first time!)

I top-roped up the 5c without too much fuss (oh well, there was a little fuss halfway through, when I decided it was a little too scary, and needed a little motivation, that is - scolding, from climbing buddy). The rocks were rough on the skin, but not too sharp. They reminded me so much of the time I hiked Bukit Tabur. In retrospect, that was a dumb, borderline-suicidal outing. The memory actually put rock climbing into perspective for me... with proper equipment and all safety measures in place... sure, I could still fall and sustain scrapes and cuts, but at least, I will not die!

While the seasoned climbers went to the higher walls (with tougher routes) to have more fun, climbing buddy decided to use our already in-place rope to go up the other side of the 5c route we'd just finished. As he fastened the rope to his harness, he told me to strap the camera to him so he could snap some photos when he's up there. He, the one who always gave me narrow-eyed looks for wanting to photograph anything and everything...

"We're like tourist climbers..." he grinned.

And so he went, and came back down with several shots similar to this -

Then, it was my turn. With a little less fuss than the first time, I made it to the little ledge (the same spot climbing buddy stopped to snap photos in his ascent) where I could stand rather comfortably without having to hang on with my hands.

I took several shots of one side, like this -

Then, I turned to the other side and took several more, like this -

And I made climbing buddy walk to the other side so I could include him in the next few shots, like this -

Of course, I had to have some of the sky, the trees, the "river", like this -

And one of my ugly hand against the rock -

By then, climbing buddy's patience totally ran out and so he rattled the rope... "HEY! Enough!"

Oh well, Reader, you know how I can get carried away.

The next route we tried was a 6a. He wanted to try to do it from scratch, meaning, to place all the runners onto the bolts as he led. Since it was our first time, we were ill-equipped for it. These are all borrowed gear -

The 6a was not easy, mainly because a first-time climber would have no idea where the good holds are. He stumbled a little at a "tough spot", but being a tough one himself, climbing buddy reached the top and finished the route. Being so used to indoors climbing, the moment he clipped on to the anchor, he sat back on his harness and I lowered him down. We totally forgot about the "system" he was supposed to have done up there.

Oops.

So, expert climber friend graciously waltzed his way up the wall to do it, in order for me to be able to top-rope safely afterwards.

In my Bukit Tabur post, I wrote about expert hikers strolling through the very dangerous trail in Crocs. Well, here's a climber doing a 6a in flip-flops -

I feel tiny. Microscopic. What are these people made out of?!

Finally, it was my turn to try it. It was definitely more challenging than the previous routes, and especially so for me, given my lack of height. I had to be scolded, encouraged, scolded again, argued into submission and threatened, before I found the courage to get over the "tough spot". Once that was overcome, though, the rest of the way wasn't too hard.

Here's a shot of me as I reached the hardest part, right before I shrank back, defeated, to the comforting safety of the ledge, and started arguing with climbing buddy -

Is it my imagination or do I look kinda fat? Oh well... at least I did not startle any bats like I worried I would =D

The Screamer

I was torn between naming this post either "The Screamer" or "The Squealer" (the decision was finally made by random selection). What exactly is the difference between a scream and a squeal anyway? Not that it matters much... this high-pitched irritant escaping my lips when it really shouldn't.

When I first started climbing, I had to work very hard at overcoming my fear of heights. It's not gone completely, but I've learned to trust my gear and my climbing buddy / belayer such that I'm OK clinging to a spot on the wall, 20m above ground. That trust however, simply cannot rid me of my irrational (really? irrational?) fear of falling. It simply cannot. Once, I proudly declared to climbing buddy that I trust him with my life (literally) and he narrowed his eyes and retorted with "You still scream every time you fall!" which, sadly, is true.

Well, not every time, though. I've been rather successful in not screaming (or keeping the volume down to an absolute minimum) in these recent months. Honestly, I'm quite proud of myself. Not today, though - today, I was a mad banshee on the wall.

It could be the crazy 6a+ (well, not that crazy... just that I'm not there yet) or it could be that, in these past few weeks, I've been harbouring way too much repressed anger, frustration, disappointment etc. that subconsciously, I wanted to cry out. Either way, there was totally no motivation for self-control. I screamed nearly every slip, every fall, every near-fall. In fact, I even screamed when down-climbing (which, really, is an ugly sort of scrambling back down) to the last clip, which I always do whenever I'm half-way to the next clip, but am certain that I'm not going to make it without falling off, because I'm extremely terrified of falling from above a clip (and yes, this is totally frowned upon by climbing buddy). If you have not been in a climbing gym, Reader, let me say this - given the high walls and the vast space, any sounds made in there get major echoes. Seriously.

After lowering me down from another failed attempt at a(n evil) 6a which I can never seem to finish, we heard a scream from the top-rope section, and climbing buddy immediately exclaimed "Hey, that's your friend there... screams just like you do!"

(It was a girl, and she was belaying a guy. He fell, probably quite a distance, and the pull lifted her clean off her feet. I would say her cry was justified... right? Right? Agree?)

"Oh, she's worse than you... belay also scream," added climbing buddy. In case you're wondering, Reader, no, it wasn't meant as a compliment for me.

Right then, one of our friends came by and asked when we would join them for some outdoor climbs. They usually climb at Batu Caves on weekends. I chuckled and said I'm not sure I'm ready to go outdoors. He said, why not, and started talking about the easier routes that I could start with, the fun, the feel of real rocks, etc.

All I could picture in my head was - a gazillion bats fluttering in mass panic out of the cave, rudely awaken from their slumber upon the first fall I'd take, complete the thereafter-will-be-famous banshee-scream. It'll be a stampede on wings whilst the echoes of the scream are still ringing!

Not exactly a pretty picture... *Ahem*

Footnote: Batu Caves is home to fruit bats - see here.

Verticale

You will agree with me, Reader, that it is grand to love one's job. It is even better when one is able to turn one's passion into a livelihood. Like scientists. Like musicians. Writers! Teachers... well, some.

And climbers! Granted, the opportunities to make an actual, decent living being a professional climber (sports or otherwise) are considerably rarer than mainstream sports (I'm not sure this is a valid phrase to use, but I'm using it anyway), but, there always are other ways to indulge in this passion while generating an income.

I'm sure I've mentioned this before - climbers are the nicest people ever. Most are friendly, generous and simply fun-loving. At least, most of those I've encountered are like that... so, it is either I've been very fortunate, or people who are inclined to develop a passion for climbing also possess innate niceness. *Ahem*

Anyway, before this post loses itself down an entirely different path from the one I intended when I started it, I should jump straight into the main point. A few of the nicest climbers I've come to know have realized a climbing-related profession - a climbing gear store, of course!

Verticale - http://www.verticale.my/

I don't know if this post will find its way to the screens of any climbers out there, but if it does... if you, Reader, are a climber, do check them out and if you would, do make a trip to the store this Saturday:

Yes, it's their official opening, and there'll be good deals on the products! =)

I will not be there for this event, unfortunately, for reasons I must not delve into (I'm trying to limit ONE veering-off-course per post) but if I do visit the store in the future, I'll (hopefully) post some photos with more (ir)relevant stories in-between.

Related post: Verticale

A Climbing Don't

An important, extremely important, lesson I learned today: don't check anything out on your way up. Really. Strictly no sight-seeing. No matter how interesting.

This is what happened, Reader - I had just clipped onto the second quickdraw of the route when I noticed little white speckles at a corner. They weren't on the wall - they were sort of "hovering" a little above. I moved closer to have a better look. They were actually bits of chalk caught in cobwebs!

Normal people should not be excited at all to find cobwebs, no matter how unlikely (especially not when it isn't really unlikely most of the time) but somehow, I was. I moved even closer to look, and called out to my belayer, saying there were cobwebs there. He gave me a WTF-can-you-please-continue-climbing look and ignored me.

"But look, look!" I continued, "there are all these tiny spots of..." and that's when I noticed the brown spider with freakish long legs perched right beside the cute spots of chalk I was fascinated with, just inches from my nose.

It was a little guy - no bigger than my thumb nail - but it caught me by surprise. I cried "Argh! There's a spider here!!!" as I scrambled away from it. I've never moved so fast on any wall, and never heard so much gleeful sarcasm in the brief, befitting "Ha! You see?" from my belayer.

Yea, I saw. And I realise I was lucky I didn't not slip and fall - at just two clips, I could have hit the ground. Yikes.

So, remember this important lesson! Oh yea, I know any adequately sane climber will never do what I did. This post is just a self-reminder, really.

BUSY

This is absolutely the first time, ever, that I use CAPS for a post title. Seriously. I've been in a daze for the most of the past three months or so - constantly occupied from morning till evening on weekdays and working through quite a few weekends and public holidays. I'm not a workaholic - far from it - I don't enjoy work any more than the average working person, but if I have something I must do, I must do. Like, I must prepare my own lecture slides, although I have "inherited" a set from lecturers who taught the subjects in the past, because those are... what's a better word for 'crap'? Oh, wait.

So, I've been busy. Extremely busy. I'm not about to make lists, so it suffices to say I've taken up way more than I ever had, since I started my current position.

However, I still found the time to write the occasional (although mostly short) posts. I found the time to indulge in little things I enjoy every now and then - a friend observed that while I whined about being so busy, I managed to complete my baby blanket project, bake gingerbread cookies (complete with royal icing decoration!) for family, friends and colleagues, and take half a day off my (very precious) weekend to meet and spend time with friends. I said those are precisely the reasons I've been so occupied that I didn't have a spare minute to sit back, relax and do "nothing". For, in addition to her list, I also allocated time to be with my family, do some yoga, climbing and guitar practice.

Granted, I had to give some activities a miss when work overwhelmed; I had to decline some invitations I would otherwise had accepted. Choir, for example. Every ex-choirmate I met and spoke to asked me to go back for their 2012 production - it's going to be a grand affair for it's also going to be their 10th anniversary concert. They're doing pop, jazz and musical pieces... and it's almost painful to think that I will not be a part of that. But I know I will not be able to cope with the demanding rehearsal schedule and everything else I've currently undertaken - I mean, it takes, literally, two persons to tell me that my hair has grown long and unruly for me to realize the last haircut I got was nearly 6 months ago. So, either way I decide, I know I will have regrets.

I don't know where this post is heading. Being so thoroughly exhausted does that to my brain - I spent almost 14 hours on campus today.

So, to conclude - in some weird way, it feels great to be busy. Simply busy - not stressed out, driven to the brink of insanity or anything along those lines. My BP is consistently low (though I'm not sure if that is because I'm anaemic). Right. Good night, Reader!

A Birthday

I am grateful for having had a not too shabby year - with loving family and friends, a good enough (*ahem*) job, and excellent health.

I am grateful for being physically and mentally fit to do the things I love.

I am grateful to have the ability to think before I speak/write/act; to look at matters from various perspectives; to understand people who think differently from me.

I am grateful to have enough confidence and trust, so I could just let go and hang for a while when I need to. We all need it sometimes.

I am grateful I am happy today. Today, at least =)