Spreadeagled on a Rock

As an Army reservist, I once provided the medical support for the Vermont Army National Guard’s Mountain Warfare School. 

One beautiful June day they took us rock climbing. The task involved climbing up the sheer face of a rock wall about one hundred feet high. They had us roped in and dependably belayed, and with numerous instructors to advise and assist the risk was minimal. 

After scrabbling and clawing my way up the rock, I sat exhilarated on top, beside one of the instructors, looking out over the beautiful mountains. Vermont had put on her finest greenery for my visit and foliage of every conceivable shade blanketed the ridges as they marched toward the horizon.

I said, as much to myself as the instructor “That was the most fun I’ve had in a long, long time. What makes this so much fun?” 

The instructor replied, and I’ve always remembered these words, “Sir, when you’re spreadeagled on the rock, looking for a move, it’s hard to think about anything else.” 

Many people try to find a way to figuratively spreadeagle themselves on a rock, searching for some activity demanding enough concentration to quiet the everyday worries. A way to forget for a bit the rent is due. Something physically challenging but not insane, like downhill skiing or martial arts or surfing. Or something less physical but still challenging, like painting or playing an instrument or needlework.

This thing you’re holding in your hands right now has been my way of spreadeagling myself on a rock.