I stepped up to the rock to find my first handhold, then looked around for a suitable ledge to step onto. If I slipped, the rope around my waist that was attached to the carabiner at the top of the boulder would hold me in place until I could find my foothold again. I took my time working up the "path," often fumbling around for which foot to put where and how to hold myself to the rock with my hands. The rock
smelled dank and alive, and my heart beat wildly. When I finally stepped on top of the boulder, I reveled in the feeling of having conquered it.