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too_far_gone
Apr 1, 2006, 5:06 PM
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Registered: Feb 27, 2004
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This is something I wrote about my trip out to China last year. I am trying to get my writing skills up to par and know there are some good writers on this site. Please offer up any constructive critism. Hope you like it. Enjoy.
Coffee Break
The acceleration of the airplane forcefully pushes me backwards into my seat. The cabin shakes around me and the lights flicker. I am returning home from a week and a half long climbing trip to China.
Via email my friend and climbing partner assured me of dozens of empty cliffs and more rock than I would know what to do with. He was right. Every new turn revealed smooth yellow and white limestone towers covered in features: tufas, cracks, and countless pockets.
I feel a soft tap on my shoulder and I open my eyes to see a smiling flight attendant asking me in Asian English if I want a tray of food. I slowly scan the grey tray covered in plastic labeled containers. My appetite for plastic is gone, and I slowly take the coffee cup off the tray and refuse the funny looking food. I anxiously wait for my coffee. I need something; something to take my mind away from thoughts of returning.
At last, I set my cup on the flight attendant’s tray and watch her cautiously pour coffee into my cup. After she has finished, I snatch a creamer off her tray, pour it into my cup, stir with my pinky finger, and take my first glorious sip all in quick succession. I set my cup down on my flimsy airplane tray and realize my airplane coffee has the same strange color of the instant Nes-Café we drank on the two days we were rained out. Countless cups of funny tasting coffee drank during many games of rummy to 1000. I remember the smiles we all had when the rain stopped.
Sip, I am shouldering my backpack and asking if there are any overhanging walls that could have stayed dry during the two day down-pour. I step out of our car into a small pond in front of Pocket Wall. The rock is a little damp, but looks dry enough to climb on. We ferry our gear across and place it in a small cave on the far right side of the wall near a shrine. My partner lifts his drill from his backpack and gives me a devilish smile. He wants to bolt a line he has been looking at. As he aids the line solo, our Chinese partner and I warm-up on some easy routes. Local village children quickly spot us and approach us cautiously. The children quickly become comfortable and their curiosity overwhelms us. They carefully take my quickdraws off my harness and I only notice when I hear the gates snapping shut. I soon find myself trying to belay with one hand while trying to get my gear back with the other. Fortunately, my partner finishes his line quickly and keeps the children occupied while we finish warming up. We each give his new route a try, and coax our driver into climbing just before we are chased back indoors by the rain.
Sip, once again we are flailing up two 5.10s after an early dinner. Jokes and friendly insults echo through the bamboo stalks as we laugh at our pathetic display of climbing. After our evening climb, I soak my feet in a cool stream to try and cleanse them of my climbing shoes’ funk. When I get into our hired car, my driver passes fresh cut sugar cane around and I contently chew on a piece on the way to town. We unload our gear into our hotel rooms and decide to look the pictures we have taken. One of my partners grabs his laptop while the rest of us fetch our cameras. We plug our cameras into the laptop eager to see if we have any good pictures. Over the course of a couple hours and a few beers, we ahhh the good pictures, delete the bad, and laugh at the funny ones. My eyes tear up from continues yawning, and I go back to the hotel.
Another sip, and suddenly I am flying again. I come to a sudden stop about thirty five feet later and look upwards at my flight path. I really wanted the onsight, but knew beforehand this route might be too rich for my blood. I go back up and rest at my highpoint in true hangdog style. I depump and try the route a couple more times before I retreat back to the ground. On the ground my belayer, whom I just met, proudly shows off his cheek. He has a large bleeding strawberry from slamming into the wall when he caught my fall. Then I watch my partner easily onsight the route in good style for a first ascent; he names the route Caught Red Handed (5.11A). At the end of the day we all meet in town for dinner. I feel sorry for our soft spoken Chinese waitress for having to serve loud boisterous westerners, but we are excited. We just finished a great day of climbing in good company, and we are having a hard time waiting for tomorrow.
Sip, I have been squeezed tightly between the door and our Chinese climbing partner for the last few hours on the drive back to Guangzhou. Three of us are crammed into the backseat of a Jetta during the solemn drive and my legs are beginning to stiffen. Our first stop in Guangzhou is the airport where we have to drop off our Chinese partner so she can make work the next day. At the airport, I gratefully exit the car and take a few seconds to stretch my legs. Our driver opens the trunk and we slowly dig through it. We move the heavy backpacks around searching and then pull one of the packs out and place it on the ground behind the car. Our Chinese partner reluctantly shoulders her pack and starts saying goodbye. We shake hands and dispense with all the customary goodbyes; “Nice meeting you” and “Hope to climb with you again.” After the five of us all have given farewells, we stand in place for just a moment longer trying to delay the unavoidable. None of us want to leave. No one wants to go back to life. We had managed to sidestep our responsibilities for awhile, but now we must go back.
Soon I am staring into an empty white cup. I come back from my memories and return to my escort home. I am glad the airplane doors are sealed and I can’t escape. If returning was an option, I would run back to China and make more memories. I return to work Friday and soon this flight will be a memory. I am almost home now. I think I still have time for one more cup of coffee.
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braaaaaaaadley
Apr 1, 2006, 6:56 PM
Post #2 of 7
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Registered: Dec 9, 2002
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Looks pretty good to me... not a bad read. We want pics. to go with the story!! :D
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cosmin
May 16, 2006, 3:17 AM
Post #3 of 7
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Registered: Oct 3, 2004
Posts: 131
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That cheek still hurts!!
:lol:
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tallnik
May 18, 2006, 11:36 AM
Post #4 of 7
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Registered: Apr 18, 2004
Posts: 595
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Pretty good read, my advice would be to keep posting until someone who's penned a piece or two for the climbing mags, etc, gives you some feedback. Personally, I enjoyed the story.
Cheers,
Nik
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guangzhou
Jun 2, 2006, 6:02 AM
Post #5 of 7
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Registered: Sep 27, 2004
Posts: 3389
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Brad, nice read. A couple of places that could be improved, but a good peice. I'll email you some edits if you want.
Cosmin, you face still hurts me toooooo :lol:
Brad: your route "Romanian ROuge" gets three stars in my book.
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guangzhou
Jun 2, 2006, 6:29 AM
Post #6 of 7
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Registered: Sep 27, 2004
Posts: 3389
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Check you email, just sent you one.
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too_far_gone
Jun 4, 2006, 7:32 PM
Post #7 of 7
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Registered: Feb 27, 2004
Posts: 73
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Thanks for taking a look at it. The input was appreciated. I know it can use some work and I am looking for ways to improve.
Hopefully, I can make this into a good read.
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