Page 152 of Free Heart
Dan
The hike inis quiet, the way I like it before I free solo. It’s just me, the clanging of distant cams and carabiners, and the rustle of small animals in the leaves and the call of birds ahead. I know there are guys on the wall above with cameras, but I’ve trained a few times with them there, and I can put them out of my mind. I know there will be drones flying near to me too, but not near enough to collide or cause a distraction. I know all of this, and we’ve practiced for it, so my thoughts are on one thing and one thing alone.
Sejin.
The moves and choices I will make on this wall will be measured by the ability to get back home to Sejin.
As I press my palms against the granite, I gaze up, thinking about my ascent. I close my eyes and picture his smile. I search my heart for doubt that I’ll make it. I envision the roof, but instead of visualizing myself falling and making peace with that possibility, the way I have in the past, I imagine only that I make it. It’s not effortless, but I can predict each move and every hold. I see myself haul up over the lip and get going up those nickel-sized holds.
I’m strong and calm. Zoned in. Focused.
I picture it all and imagine Sejin’s smile, the way it shifts and changes, and think about how it has guided me into this beautiful life of ours. One I’d never imagined possible until I met him.
Standing here at the base of El Capitan, I carry him with me.
In this moment.
This infinity of now.
Hands on the rock, I start up.
*
Sejin
It’s been severalhours, and I’ve seen evidence of him on the wall. I don’t have my own binoculars because I can’t stand to watch him the entire time. It’s too much like holding my breath. It makes me see dots.
I leave the watching to Tom Reed, and Lowell, and even Rye—who is standing with Lowell in a way I haven’t seen since before their breakup. I don’t have it in me to even be curious about that, though. I leave watching to my dad and Peggy Jo, who have flown out again to support Dan on this momentous day. I leave watching to Bella too, where she sits in a lawn chair beside her mother cradling Mimi. She’s left the baby-daddy and made up with Peggy Jo, and she’ll be taking over our place at Peggy Jo’s house when we leave in the van a few days from now. After Dan completes the climb…
And I leave the watching to the climbing junkies around me, and to the fans and new friends milling around or sitting on picnic blankets, having made a day of it. I leave the watching to Leenie, who has left the kids with Martin to be here with me “just in case.” I leave it to all of them.
Iconcentrate on silently praying. I pray to God. I pray to my mother. I pray to the sky. I sit and gaze at the grass, green and sharp, and I pray to the earth itself, the rock, and the cliff wall.
I beg El Capitan to hold on to Dan.
I plead with Heart Route to cradle him, imagining it as a mother giving everything she’s able to support her child. Like Peggy Jo, like my mom, like Starla McBride.
“Sejin,” Lowell says from beside my shoulder. “You need to look.”
I break away from my intense meditation to take the binoculars from Lowell’s outstretched hand.
Dan’s on the ledge beneath the roof. His designated resting space.
Just like when I watched him on his first ascent in March, he’s facing the meadow. He throws kisses. I know they’re meant for me. And like my father at the airport back in December, I pretend to catch them, even though I know Dan can’t see me. I clutch them to my chest.
Then he turns and starts toward the dreaded roof. I give Lowell the binoculars back and close my eyes. I can’t watch.
I sit on the earth. I pray, and I try to believe.
*
Dan
I don’t knowwhere I went wrong the first time I tried this free solo, but it doesn’t matter. I’m in the zone. Each hold looks big enough to stand on. The wall seems to reach out and help me along. The roof is behind me. I flew over it without a hitch. Every move timed perfectly. Every lunge of my body exact.
The summit is still a good few pitches up, but I’m in the homestretch now, and I’m not even fatigued. My leg aches, but not in any dire way, and I feel steady and strong as the roar of the falls fills my mind with white noise and the wind ruffles my hair.
A drone skims along beside me, and I feel confident enough to flick it a grin. I keep going, my focus on what’s important—each hold, moving on to the final lip, and then summiting, so I can rap back down to the ground and throw my arms around Sejin.
