not climbing

So I indeed found the GUCEM building, at the right time, and it was even open! And with people inside registering people for climbing, hiking, etc. trips. But, as misfortune would have it, the canyoneering trip was full for this weekend. However, due to popular demand, they made another one next weekend (now this coming weekend) and I signed up. Yes! Canyon-hopping water-sloshing mud-sliding here I come!!!

I told my roomate Gael the other day that he is going to be very successful in the tourism industry. He is studying for a master's in tourism and recreation, with the full intention of living a super sweet life... as the name might suggest. Oh, and working in the tourism industry and stuff.

The reason I told him he is going to be very successful was because of the day he organized/inspired last Saturday...

There is a very strange sport here called Via Ferrata. It is sort of like climbing, but if you say that to any climber you might want to be wearing a helmet lest you get whacked with the butt of a rope when you least expect it ("oh, I'm sorry, I must've forgotten to yell 'rope!' before I pulled it down."). Okay, so I'm exaggerating a little. But you will be fairly aggressively corrected if you refer to "via ferrata" as "escalade." It's different.

So what is it? Well, first let's discuss the philosophy of climbing. Hokay, so there's a rock - you climb it. Good. And then there's the problem of falling - okay, so you fix yourself to the rock in some manner so that if you fall you don't fall to the ground. Right.

So now, you ask, what is the philosophy of via ferrata, and how is it different? (Or maybe you just ask, "what the heck is it?") Hokay, so there's a rock - you climb it. Good. And then there's the problem of falling - okay, so you fix yourself to the rock in some manner so...

Hm.

Right. In the images I've posted on my flickr site (http://www.flickr.com/photos/lyrafp) you can see the general concept of via ferrata. It's a way of climbing up cliffs without needing all the technicalities (well, a few) of actual rock climbing (nor the finger strength). Some time ago, people set a route with bars and cables to climb up the cliff face. It resembles climbing a ladder on lead... that is to say every 3 meters or so you clip in to a new fixed cable (you have two carabiners attached to your harness so you are always attached to something when you make the switch). Climb up another 3 meters, repeat.

I can't say it grasped me the way climbing did, but it was sure a fun way to hang out with my roomates! And I do have to admit, it sparked a little enthusiasm from the little kid in me who's always wanted to be 008 or a character in Mission Impossible...

What got me, however, was what we found on the top. I won't say we stumbled upon it par hasard - Gael had had his eye on it for years and has always wanted to go, and what perfect way to get there than to climb there!

Saturday also happened to be the annual Rhone-Alpes parapente (parasail) festival. Y'know, those things that launch from the glider port in sd and land on your head when you're reading at the cliffs? Or maybe that's just my problem... At any rate, lots and lots of parasails and hang-gliders (deltas) in the air Saturday, and lots of funny costumes...

We are unsure about the origin of the costumes - Gael's mom participated flying a hang-glider some years ago (with Gael in her tummy!) - and she said not many people dressed up back then. But now it has become a contest of cleverness and ingenuity in the air.

Some of my favorites included Spongebob Squarepants (Bob l'eponge) and his best friend Patrick (Patrick), Mission Impossible crew, a band that played real music before they took off, Ghostbusters, Jack Sparrow, Dr. Tournesol with a trail of fabric that made the form of a stethoscope (with him sitting in the part that picks up the sound of your heartbeat), some random Canadian animals, some spiders, Bart Simpson ON SKATEBOARD, and my personal favorite, the tree preaching "protegez les forets." This one was incredible because the pilot was on stilts, and the take-off (decollage) involves running. Some people struggled without said handicap - but the tree was a master. The take-off certainly involves a fair amount of coordination, balance, and power, and s/he aced it. It was a spiritual moment when our stilted friend's last peg left the ground...

So that was my Saturday. I had an absolute blast. It was one of those days where I found myself grinning from ear to ear for no apparent reason (except that I was having a blast and thoroughly amused), and caught myself, looking around to see if anyone was laughing at me. Or with me. The latter, usually the case.

Sunday, after a day of "not-climbing," I was feeling rather anxious to stretch out my fingers a bit (those bars - not so friendly). With both of my climbing partners out of town, I flipped through the guide for somewhere I could do some bouldering or find a traverse or something that would lend itself as such. The weather was a bit menacing, but wasn't quite raining yet, so I hopped on the bus across town to try to find the one and only traverse labeled in all of the "climbs in the Grenoble area." Without much hassle at all I found the rock face, threw down my bags and grabbed my shoes.

A very friendly looking pair of 30-something-year-old guys were climbing, welcomed me, and seeing that I came alone offered for me to climb with them. I refused politely, as I'd just come to do the traverse. So I hopped on the rock, exchanged a few more friendly words with them, and was on my way...

I eventually found myself on a very steep-angled slab (that is to say, small small holds angled in entirely the wrong direction), and finally fell off. I worked on that section for quite a while until the friendly pair (Frederic and Martin) came over again and offered to let me climb one of the routes that went up from where I was traversing. Finally I couldn't refuse. It looked too sweet.

It was a long route, and as everything in Europe is "very well bolted" (i.e. bolts every 2 meters or less), it looked to require around 18 or so quickdraws. I had about 10. Hm. That's okay, I'll just skip the easy parts. No problem.

It turned out to be quite comical - I felt like I was playing some arithmetic game where you place one thing in one spot so that you can get another from another spot and place that one somewhere so you can recover the first one... that didn't make any sense, but I think you know what I mean.

I was about halfway up, and on the most slabby part of the route (lowest angle where the most friction and balance is required) when the clouds finally gave in and started drizzling. Bummer. Quick quick quick. I ended up bailing out to the first belay station rather than continuing up the rest of the climb with about 6 or 7 quickdraws still on my harness. My creative-conservative climbing practice foiled!

Inbetween sprinkle-storms we took our turns on a more difficult route just to the left, until finally our feet wouldn't stick to the soggy rock, and it was time for me to go home and finish my homework.

It was certainly another one of those affirmation days - where I remember why I love climbing so much. Some days it's because of the physical accomplishment, other days the mental, but a lot of times it's just the people.

So to summarize, Gael is the future Einstein of the tourism industry, Spongebob Squarepants can fly, and climbers rock.