The joy of climbing like a monkey

I never really planned it or thought about it, but over the past months it is turning out that I actually really like to climb steep slopes on all fours, sort of like a monkey.

I know there have been instances throughout my life that I have climbed things like that, but recently it has somehow changed.

One first experience was months ago when I went to a low mountain near where I live to go hiking one afternoon, only to find that there was some event there (a totally stupid idea IMHO to put an event up there since there is absolutely no reason why all those people should waste fuel just to be there as opposed to being any other place. If they had hiked up that would be another thing, but none of them hiked up and it looked like most of them would never have been close to being able to do so.)

Because of the event I ended up having to park a ways away from any trail head or parking area. I then ended up climbing up a slope, much of the time on all fours, until I eventually did reach a trail. That experience was unexpectedly rewarding to me. There is something so primal about climbing up a slope on all fours, navigating over the various obstacles like branches, boulders, and rocks. It really feels like being in touch with one’s human essence in a full way. Humans are after all designed very well for such things so to actually use our bodies to do something which our ancestors must have done for tens of thousands of years is deeply satisfying.

The next significant event was a couple months ago when I hiked to a beach which I think is technically off-limits and some security guards were kind of bugging me. One would think that a security guard would be nice and pleasant in demeanor towards others. There’s no need for people to be mean nor to yell. Because I didn’t feel they guards were being nice I decided to go another way out – away from them. This meant that I ended up climbing up a steep, rocky cliff as it was quickly getting dark on a Winter evening.

The beginning of the ascent was actually kind of fun. I had confidence in my ability to quickly ascend up the slope. But then, suddenly, the slope got steeper and much more dangerous. There was not much to gain a foothold onto and the slope was probably well over 45 degrees. Suddenly I felt fear and I was also getting short of breath from physical exhaustion and my climbing and clinging to the side of the cliff became more and more desperate. Its amazing how fast that can happen. One minute you’re happy and things are going fine, the next you’re in a desperate situation in which your life is potentially in peril. You are stuck on the side of a cliff, hundreds of feet up, with not much to grab on to. If you were to slip you could easily have a severe injury or die. Also, going back down is not that easy. In fact, looking back down for the first time and seeing how high one actually is can be terrifying.

I knew that I had to breathe and gain composure. Panicking would not help anything. I needed to keep myself together because I required all my resources, all my strength, focus, and concentration. I took some breaths and then I observed where I was and objectively determined the best chance out of the situation.

I managed to slide over to where some plants were growing – plants being a good sign since they are clinging to rock and they can also be something to grab on to. I made it through the critical stage and then the slope got less steep and the path before me much less hazardous.

Even though that was a crazy situation and I never want to repeat it, it did help awaken in me this deep feeling of bliss while climbing.

A couple weeks ago I was back near there and attempted to climb another area further down from that. I looked up at the cliff and it just felt like such a challenge. I just went for it – climbing up and up until I got past halfway and then reached a point where I could not safely ascend anymore. It was a similar situation to the previous experience. There simply was no safe way to continue ascending. Again, reaching that point, feeling exhausted, and suddenly realizing I was in a precarious situation where one misstep could result in serious injury or death, I had to gain composure. I stopped. Got control of my breath. But when I looked down behind me I realized that – wow – I was like really high up this cliff and suddenly I felt acrophobia.

The way I controlled the acrophobia was to tell myself that it looked scarier than it actually was. After all, I had ascended that far without problem. It didn’t seem steep or that dangerous when I was ascending. But just the fact that I was suddenly hundreds of feet up did have an impact on me.

I realized that I had to go back down. That was the only safe option. There is a hexagram in the I Ching – number 62 – Preponderance of the Small – which says that it is better for the flying bird to descend. I thought of that hexagram which was the one I had received when consulting the oracle after the previous experience.

I realized that going down is actually a lot trickier than going up. It also takes a lot longer. But I did manage to descend all the way down and then decided to just walk a ways down the beach to where there was an actual, official trail that went back up to where I needed to go. Going up that was like nothing compared to what I had just attempted.

Today I was down there again and had initially planned on just walking all the way down to the official trail to ascend up. But then some guy came right past where I had been sitting, enjoying the afternoon Sun, and started ascending up the cliff. So I decided to try out this route.

It turned out to be a fairly straightforward route except there was one point where it was hazardous and the ability to get a safe foothold was much lower than the threshold for safety that I want to adhere to. Fortunately it was only one step that was kind of dangerous. But still, it would only take one misstep to lead to a serious accident. I don’t like that. Even if I see someone else ascending up doesn’t necessarily mean its a good or safe route.

These climbing experiences have definitely awakened something primal in me but I would like to continue to explore this in a way that is safe and intelligent. I really don’t even know what what I am doing is called or anything about it other than what I know from my own instinct, what I’ve learned while climbing, and what my intellect tells me.

I find it interesting that I have stumbled into something so amazing yet there are not even words for it. It seems to me that something so primal and blissful would be something a lot of people would want to be doing. I find it kind of strange that they are not, and that there’s not really anything about it that is spoken or written about as far as I know.

I also have to say that, because part of the area where I’m doing this is fenced off, it makes me seriously wonder about people and about society. There are people somewhere who make these decisions to put up fences and block off areas which to me are primal areas that every human being should have a right to enjoy.

The way I see it is that I have a primal right to wander because I was here first. I – my ancestors, the beings which live and have lived on this Earth for tens and hundreds of thousands of years – we’ve been doing this for a long time and this is our Earth. I feel like I have eminent domain over whatever BS some misguided groups of people have decided to do by blocking off natural areas.

The only real argument I could see for blocking it off would be because, if someone did get seriously hurt, then if people had to go rescue them, it would take resources. But I feel that the drawbacks from not being able to access inspiring natural areas far outweigh the benefits which come from being able to primally connect with nature.

Anyhow I’m glad that these places are difficult if not impossible for many or most to access. Even though I may be selfish, I’m glad to have places like that. There should be places that are difficult for most people to access.

For me, if I did not take that risk, I would not be who I am. I would not be happy. I need places like that to be who I am. Not necessarily dangerous places, but primal ones rather.