Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Taking time off
I've been taking a lot of time off work lately. This is easy enough because I'm self employed. I believe in work in general, but now, I'm preparing to move from Maine to Virginia. It's important to take some time to enjoy Maine. Thus, I turned Labor Day weekend into a four day. I wish I took this kind of weekend more often.
On Friday morning, I met my friend Justin at 5:30 in the morning in Kennebunk. I live in Portland, so I had to get up and drive south for a half hour to meet Justin who had been driven up from Boston by his wife (many thanks to Elsa). We bade goodbye to Elsa and drove North for about four hours until we arrived at Otter Cliffs on Mt. Desert Island. Otter Cliffs is technically part of Acadia National Park, but The Wise never pay the park entrance fee. Otter Cliffs is the reason I climb rocks. Three years ago, my buddy Mike and I drove up from mid-Coast Maine to Otter Cliffs for 24 hours where Justin, Elsa, and our friend Chris introduced us to rock climbing. Since then, I've wanted to go rock climbing whenever possible, which apparently isn't really all that much.
The point to me of rock climbing is thus: Otter Cliffs in an incredibly beautiful place that one is drawn to. You drive by, park in the parking lot, and walk out to these 40 foot cliffs with the blue green ocean crashing on the rocks below. You look out at lobster boats who must lay claim to the most aesthetically compelling territory of any fishermen. You take a couple of pictures and get back in your car, because what else is there to do? Not much. You'd like to spend the whole day there, but you'll just yawn it away, unless you are more lazy or zen like then I am.
Steinbeck says that an action taken must have a design or the human mind shies away from it. This is true enough for somebody with a manic personality like mine. Rock Climbing becomes that purpose. It is challenging, scary, fun, exciting, and it has a depth to it. It's educational and you come away with a better sense of yourself. More about this later, maybe. The point is, you sort of feel like you're getting shit done and the beauty and grandeur of Otter Cliffs sort of seeps into you throughout the day. You fall off the rock, hang there on the rope for a minute, and watch a herring gull eat a crab. You are waiting for your buddy to tie in and you watch a lobsterman check his trap, through some unwanted lobster into the ocean, and keep a few. (I'm not sure the lobsterman feels this as an aesthetic experience. He just made ten bucks, but on the other hand, I think he does or he wouldn't be fishing lobster for a living 50 feet off otter cliffs. In any case, there is definitely an aesthetic and spiritual value to fishing the sea for me, the viewer). Before too long, you have spent the day at Otter Cliffs, and you have developed an intimate connection with a few parts of the cliffs. The parts you climbed; or more accurately, tried to climb, slipped, stared at, sweared at, laughed at, and, in some cases, managed to clambor over. It doesn't feel like you're triumphing over the rock. It feels more like the rock (like Jesus) is waiting for you to take one step towards climbing it correctly, so it can take three steps to getting you to the top. In the end, triumph and affection towards the rock.
The day finished with an evening drive back to Portland, a sound sleep, and a 7AM wake up. I woke up at 7 so I could pack for a two night hiking trip to the Bigelows with Beatrice. The weather forecast called for rain, and we were getting a late start, but we made the right decision and went on the trip. It's hard to explain the value of hiking all day in the rain and cold--perhaps another time--but it has to do with putting yourself in a position where your only choice is to endure. So we endured some bad weather, appreciated the relatively clear and warm times, hiked over the grandeur of Mt. Bigelow and managed to make it all work well. It speaks well for the Bigelows that I usually try not to go there (too obvious) and still have found myself backpacking there 4 times over the last 5 years. And really, you can't go wrong. The Bigelows have everything you would want to hike in Maine. You start out in the flat wide hardwood trail. At a certain point, you start going up. Then, you start going up more. Then, you start having to use your hands and think hard about how you are going to get around that next rock. Pretty soon, you're breathing hard and you find that you are surrounded by short balsam firs. You know you're near the peak but wait, that's not a peak! It's a false peak. This happens about eight more times and then, you're on the peak. It would be glorious except that's where all the wind wants to be, and it's wet and cold, and you can't see shit, so onward christian soldiers. The Bigelows provide this about four times in two days which is pretty right on.
And so, that was my four day weekend. Back to work jackass.
On Friday morning, I met my friend Justin at 5:30 in the morning in Kennebunk. I live in Portland, so I had to get up and drive south for a half hour to meet Justin who had been driven up from Boston by his wife (many thanks to Elsa). We bade goodbye to Elsa and drove North for about four hours until we arrived at Otter Cliffs on Mt. Desert Island. Otter Cliffs is technically part of Acadia National Park, but The Wise never pay the park entrance fee. Otter Cliffs is the reason I climb rocks. Three years ago, my buddy Mike and I drove up from mid-Coast Maine to Otter Cliffs for 24 hours where Justin, Elsa, and our friend Chris introduced us to rock climbing. Since then, I've wanted to go rock climbing whenever possible, which apparently isn't really all that much.
The point to me of rock climbing is thus: Otter Cliffs in an incredibly beautiful place that one is drawn to. You drive by, park in the parking lot, and walk out to these 40 foot cliffs with the blue green ocean crashing on the rocks below. You look out at lobster boats who must lay claim to the most aesthetically compelling territory of any fishermen. You take a couple of pictures and get back in your car, because what else is there to do? Not much. You'd like to spend the whole day there, but you'll just yawn it away, unless you are more lazy or zen like then I am.
Steinbeck says that an action taken must have a design or the human mind shies away from it. This is true enough for somebody with a manic personality like mine. Rock Climbing becomes that purpose. It is challenging, scary, fun, exciting, and it has a depth to it. It's educational and you come away with a better sense of yourself. More about this later, maybe. The point is, you sort of feel like you're getting shit done and the beauty and grandeur of Otter Cliffs sort of seeps into you throughout the day. You fall off the rock, hang there on the rope for a minute, and watch a herring gull eat a crab. You are waiting for your buddy to tie in and you watch a lobsterman check his trap, through some unwanted lobster into the ocean, and keep a few. (I'm not sure the lobsterman feels this as an aesthetic experience. He just made ten bucks, but on the other hand, I think he does or he wouldn't be fishing lobster for a living 50 feet off otter cliffs. In any case, there is definitely an aesthetic and spiritual value to fishing the sea for me, the viewer). Before too long, you have spent the day at Otter Cliffs, and you have developed an intimate connection with a few parts of the cliffs. The parts you climbed; or more accurately, tried to climb, slipped, stared at, sweared at, laughed at, and, in some cases, managed to clambor over. It doesn't feel like you're triumphing over the rock. It feels more like the rock (like Jesus) is waiting for you to take one step towards climbing it correctly, so it can take three steps to getting you to the top. In the end, triumph and affection towards the rock.
The day finished with an evening drive back to Portland, a sound sleep, and a 7AM wake up. I woke up at 7 so I could pack for a two night hiking trip to the Bigelows with Beatrice. The weather forecast called for rain, and we were getting a late start, but we made the right decision and went on the trip. It's hard to explain the value of hiking all day in the rain and cold--perhaps another time--but it has to do with putting yourself in a position where your only choice is to endure. So we endured some bad weather, appreciated the relatively clear and warm times, hiked over the grandeur of Mt. Bigelow and managed to make it all work well. It speaks well for the Bigelows that I usually try not to go there (too obvious) and still have found myself backpacking there 4 times over the last 5 years. And really, you can't go wrong. The Bigelows have everything you would want to hike in Maine. You start out in the flat wide hardwood trail. At a certain point, you start going up. Then, you start going up more. Then, you start having to use your hands and think hard about how you are going to get around that next rock. Pretty soon, you're breathing hard and you find that you are surrounded by short balsam firs. You know you're near the peak but wait, that's not a peak! It's a false peak. This happens about eight more times and then, you're on the peak. It would be glorious except that's where all the wind wants to be, and it's wet and cold, and you can't see shit, so onward christian soldiers. The Bigelows provide this about four times in two days which is pretty right on.
And so, that was my four day weekend. Back to work jackass.
# posted by JPD @ 5:04 AM 
