Stepping Stones

Today I was knocking and really didn’t have much success, but near the end of the night I started to talk to a women who was taking care of her roses. I did the typical approach, and she started to brush me off. I don’t remember how we got onto the subject but we started talking about road bikes and before I knew it we were sitting in her driveway, indian style, talking about anything and everything that came to mind.

One of the things we talked about was climbing Castleton Tower in Moab. I realized now that there is something very spiritual about accomplishing goals. Thinking back to that climb I realized a few things.

Half way up the climb, I went for a drop knee to get to the next hold. As I dropped my knee, I felt a pop, and then excruciating heat. I later found out that I had sprained my knee really badly, but that will come later. Anyways, I was faced with a decision. I could either continue up the tower or lower off from there. On one hand, I could have given up my goal, and ended the day for my friend Andrew and me, or I could muscle through the pain and finish it. I had lost the use of my left leg, but still had three limbs that worked. I relied on Andrew to help me. The climb took much longer than expected, but eventually I finished it.

At the top of the tower was an old army ammo box. Inside there was a log book and a pen. Everyone who made it to the top was to write the date, their name, and something about the climb. I realized at that moment that there were only a few thousand people in the history of the world that had ever set foot on the top of the tower. There were only a few thousand people in the history of the world that had seen what I’d seen. At that moment I felt so small in comparison to the universe and yet such a part of it, that it left an indelible impression in my mind. If I had given up at that moment, I would have forever regretted what might have been.

After a doctor's appointment, I found out that I had badly sprained my knee that that physical therapy was needed. I went through almost 2 months of therapy before my knee was good enough to climb on again. Was the pain worth it? Did the quote "No Pain, No Gain!" go through my head? Then, I might have said no...but now, a resounding yes has replaced that no.

Betty Spaghetti, as I now know her, helped me to realize that. I left that driveway with a better understanding of myself. But I think more importantly, I left with a greater sense of purpose, and a good friend who I may not see that often, but one that seems to me, will be a part of my life for many years to come. One that will share in my joys and triumphs, and my pains and failures. I look forward to the future. I'll be back, Betty, to see how you're doing, and to bring you pictures of my adventures.

Thank you, Betty Spaghetti!