Our trip out to Wyoming began with some hesitation. Patrick had a rather unsettling lead in Boulder Canyon which shook his confidence (and my nerve), and I wasn’t sure I could change my flight home. Bill brought it into perspective though: “I came out here with the intention of climbing the Tower, and that’s what I think we should do.” I moved my flight and off we went, flying into the Wyoming-ness encased in a shell of fiberglass and chrome, watching the sun set for what seemed like hours. We arrived at the KOA campground outside the park at 11pm. Up went our tents and off went our lights. When darkness closed in around our eyes we were treated to the black outline of the tower, engulfed in the most stunning sky I’ve ever seen. The milky way was perfectly visible, banding the sky with millions of stars. We saw three shooting stars while we stood, gaping in awe. I didn’t want to go to bed.

I had to though, our plan was to be at the approach by 7am. We would climb a 5.6, at 7am, on 8/9/10. (This is my happy face. I like it when things line up like that.)

The Durance Route starts at the base of the leaning pillar. To get to the pillar you can add a pitch from the southern base, or you can scramble up the north talus field, up a “ramp” to the start of the first pitch. We chose the scrambling option and ended up putting on our climbing shoes half way up. It was a steep, unroped, scramble that left me wondering what I’d gotten myself in to. Fortunately I couldn’t see the drop off so I wasn’t that bothered. Looking up at it from the bottom is the only place to truly appreciate how high the beginning of the climb actually is.

Pitch one is a crack between the leaning pillar and the wall. The pillar started moving in 2005 and has since stabilized. The guide book suggests placing gear in the crack next to the pillar rather than against it to prevent further movement. Pat ignored this. I don’t blame him. The secondary crack was kind of far away, and though well protected, I don’t think he wanted to fall and swing.

I grunted and jammed my way up, thinking how fun it would be if I didn’t have a pack. Bill made quick work of the climb and joined us on top of the leaning pillar.

Pitch two is a 40 ft parallel crack/offwidth – the crux pitch. Patrick lead and I left my bag to be hauled up. At this point, still full of energy, the whole pitch was an awesome problem to be solved. At one point Pat had yelled “Oh! Handholds!” I found them too, obvious and perfectly placed to give my poor fists a break. I found my rhythm: high step, hand jam, butt scoot, repeat. Two pitons helped the gear on the way up. I almost completely fit inside the crack on the right. There were many chicken wings and my shoulder is still bruised, but it was still fun.

Bill lead the third pitch. This one was short but had an awkward start. Once he figured it out he sent it without trouble. I on the other hand had my typical third pitch freak out. I took me two tries to get settled but I made it up. I’m not sure what the issue is, but it’s recurring. The snacks I carried up definitely helped, though next time I think I’m going to substitute vitamin C tablets for orange juice. More bang for the weight.

Patrick took the fourth pitch, which he shortly proclaimed to be “the most fun pitch of his life.” It really was fun. Big feet and hands the whole way up: this is the pitch where you can enjoy the view and the air. The belay ledge was the size of Canada, leaving your belayer safe and comfy.

The fun part about climbing the tower via this route is the audience. Right below us was the intersection of two paths and a few telescopes. Every time we’d look down there would be a small group of people watching us. At one point Bill waved and got a round of applause. Nothing like getting the celebrity treatment before you’ve actually accomplished anything.

Bill lead pitch five: a 40 foot chimney to a chock stone that took some… creativity to clear. At one point I see Bill grab his left foot and move it up a step higher and yell “I learned that from Aleya!” Hey, I’m short, it works. A few grunts and a pull gets you over the top of the chock stone. An old sling stuck in a crack helps as well.

The next pitch has two variations. The “Jump Traverse” where you actually have to jump over a gap, traverse over then climb up 100 ft, or Bailey’s direct variation which takes you up 150 feet to the last set of bolts. We opted for the direct variation. Patrick lead this pitch up and out of sight. For me this was the hardest. I was tired, Patrick couldn’t see me so the rope was too tight. The crack was too big for my hands/arms but too small for all of me, making it hard for an inexperienced crack climber. By the time I reached the top I was burnt out and sketched out. I belayed Bill up the route with my back to the miles of open sky and my eyes steadily fixed to the wall. In short order Bill popped his head over the edge and I cloved him into the anchor.

The last “pitch” is a scramble up some big rocks to the top. It’s going to sound silly, but this little scramble was one of my best moments. Bill suggested I “lead” it. Said I deserved to be the first over the edge. Not sure about that part, I didn’t lead anything. Still, it made me feel stronger than I actually was. Thirty seconds before I was hanging on to the anchor for dear life, wondering what the heck I’d done. I took a deep breath, and went for it. I remember stepping over the last boulder vividly, cresting the summit and running for flat, even ground. I spun around in time to see Patrick and Bill step into view, the vast nothingness of Wyoming stretching behind them for miles, the earth gently curving below them. I cried. Well, as much as I could for being dehydrated.

We spent about an hour at the top, photographing and videoing and signing the summit log. I really never thought I’d ever stand there. The last time I visited the tower I was 13 and with my family. We learned about its history, took a few pictures and moved on. I remember following the monolith with my eyes for as long as I could, watching it disappear over the horizon. I never thought I’d stand at the top. Especially since the fear of heights set in. I never thought I’d make it.

But I did.

I still can’t believe it.

How many times have you done something you thought you’d never do? Did you finish that project? Or conquer that internal struggle? Learn something hard? Make something incredible? Or have you just not tried.

So what’s stopping you from doing something incredible? Make a plan. Do it with friends. Don’t ever sell yourself short. If I can make it – you can for sure.

What’s your Everest?