Valley Outfitters is quiet. Only a few spots are taken—most likely employees. Employees and Sadie McGillis . . . adventure seeker?
Maybe! Could there be brand-new experiences awaiting? Something that gives me a reason to stop feeling like my life is slipping away, or like I’m just a spectator for the experiences of the rest of the world? I want an experience that’s all my own. One that’s vibrant and full of excitement. Just like with Dolores on her bike. It’s time to feel that kind of exhilaration over something to be proud of.
I approach the doors, expecting them to whoosh open, but instead nearly collide with the polished glass. Oh. It’s 9:58. Great job, Sadie. A few other enthusiastic customers are waiting outside and they all glance at me. One guy who’s balancing a cardboard box smirks, probably because I nearly collided with the closed sign. Having psyched myself up for this moment, I really was strutting with purpose. What a dork. But hey. I’ll never see these people again and I’m okay with being a dork. I toe at a crack in the concrete sidewalk with the front of my tennis shoe, waiting for the final two minutes to tick down.
An employee in a camo vest approaches from within. He halts at the double doors, and with a ring of keys, clicks the lock. The doors whoosh open. The cardboard box guy gestures for me to enter first, and I do, head held high. I have no idea which direction to go, so swing left, hoping it doesn’t show how lost I am. Not just in a store like this, but in life. Then again, I had the courage to walk in here today and that was on my list, so maybe I’m not lost. Maybe I’m finally finding a way forward.
I pass beneath a wooden archway that’s carved in the silhouette of the Rockies where just beyond, kayaks hang on display and a mannequin stands outfitted from head to toe for a fly-fishing expedition. An artificial trout leaps out of the water from his hook. Okay. It looks like I’ve found the water sports section. Step one—explore!
The first few aisles hold gear for boats of all kinds. Kayaks, canoes, and even rafts. Colorado is famous for its white water rafting and I even went once with a group of college friends. It was a ton of fun, but as I peruse the aisle of life vests and oars, I still want to keep looking. It seems best to soak in this whole place before honing in on something serious. And hey, maybe I’ll dabble in a few different activities. That alone could be a cool way to spend the coming seasons. Further into the store lives the fly-fishing section. Another prominent sport in this state. There are at least three fly-fishing shops in the valley town of Gunnison alone where blue waters swirl through the green meadow and low ridges, drawing nature-lovers, animals, and sportsmen alike.
Here, miniscule silver hooks are bedecked with exotic feathers, colored felt, and shimmering string. I’ve watched people tie flies before in shops, and it’s meticulous work. In fact, this aisle is so enchanting, it’s hard not to wonder if fishing could be just the ticket. A chance to see more sunrises and sunsets. Soak up the constant flow and trickle of water—music to the soul. The only issue is that I’m not super excited about the idea of catching fish. This columnist is more of a don’t hurt the fishies kind of gal.
I’ll keep thinking. This might not be the right direction. But it’s another option and I’m honestly loving just standing here. It’s entirely different from a bookstore, and even though I’m fifteen minutes into this new adventure, I’m already feeling a fresh wave of excitement.
The place smells like nature and neoprene. Of passion and purpose.
The next section is mountain biking. It takes twenty minutes to traverse the aisles of sleek bikes and helmets. Not to mention, it’s a hobby many people around here love. Definitely something to consider.
Continuing on, I pass through the hiking and camping sections. Both great options. There is so much to see and even more to ponder where tents and sleeping bags fill the shelves. Something is sparking here, but I don’t know that it’s been fully ignited yet. These options look fun, but are these activities that I can simply go out and do on my own? It’s hard to say. Everything is still a contender, but there’s more to see and think about.
Rounding the corner of a rack of colorful ropes, I come to what must be the climbing section. Another huge activity in this region, if not one of the biggest. Colorado is famous for its climbing and has even produced professionals and Olympians alike. I’ve got to admit, though, I’m a little terrified of heights. The earthy colors of harnesses and ropes sort of speak to me, but I don’t know how to climb and I know enough about the sport to understand that you need a belay person to be able to safely get off the ground. Someone to brace the other end of the rope. That means a partnership.
With a twinge of disappointment, I aim for the next aisle. It still holds climbing gear, but with a twist. No ropes, no carabiners. There aren’t even helmets. Just chalk bags and shoes and some type of small brushes. Simple enough. Posters on the wall depict men, women, and even children at indoor climbing gyms. The walls are a few yards high and the colorful holds bolted onto the smooth surfaces are all different colors and sizes. Beneath the climbers rest layers of padding to catch a fall. Stepping nearer, I examine a chart that describes the different skill levels to this sport: bouldering.
Hmmm.
Not as high or death-defying as outdoor climbing, and also, no partner required. I wouldn’t have to invest in ropes or a harness. Really, it would take very little to get started.
Interesting. Also, it’s not the kind of sport that requires GPS or a compass. Not to mention a rescue helicopter. Also good.
Around the next corner stands a table where I’m surprised to see the guy with the cardboard box again. He’s busy unloading said box, displaying climbing shoes, bags of powdered chalk, as well as a tall, man-sized banner advertising a free climbing event at one of the local gyms this weekend. Plastic rock forms in nearly every color decorate the mini wall behind him. Curious—and kind of terrified—I step closer. Stacks of flyers rest at the edge of the table, and before I even have one in my hand, he speaks.
“Hi.” It’s the same polite smile he gave me this morning. This time with a spark of amusement since we both witnessed me nearly walk into a door. “Have you ever climbed in a gym before?”
When I shake my head, he edges around the back side of the table.
“The gym I work for, Rock Central, is offering a free class. It’s a great time to give it a try.”
“It looks like fun. How does it work?”
Pro tip: when slightly terrified about something, research further.
He lights up—expression brightening, energy palpable. Clearly this is his thing, which is a selling point: that someone can feel this much enthusiasm for a hobby. He waves me over to the four-foot wall behind him, and as I approach, he explains this is technically a way for people to test out new climbing shoes before buying them. But it looks like today he’s going to use it for demo purposes.
“So, it’s really simple.” He grips one of the colorful rocks bolted onto the demonstration wall. “These are different holds and they form what we call routes which are designed for different skill levels. It makes bouldering perfect for any skill level from just starting out all the way to professional.” Tightening his grip and sliding a foot forward allows him to lift off the ground and balance both his shoes on the little nubs closest to the floor. Climbing. He makes it look easy. “No matter where someone is at, they can usually have a great time climbing.” He lowers himself back down.
I nod, absorbing this. “And it’s something you can do on your own, right? As in you don’t need a partner for ropes or anything like that?”
“Oh, yeah. Bouldering is entirely an individual sport. It can be really social and fun though. People can climb in groups or friends come in together and challenge one another. But ultimately, it’s just the person and the climbing wall. The objective is to make it to the top. The broader purpose is to slowly gain more skill and confidence to advance into harder routes.”
I like the idea of this and pick up a flyer to examine it. Date, location, and price—free. Honestly, this could be fun.
“So would I sign up now or do I sign up on the day of?” Yep. Sadie jut committed.
I think this could be a great place to start. New, but not entirely terrifying. Plus, it’s indoors, so I can’t get lost. This guy just sold me on the whole beginner skill level speech. And it would also be air conditioned. Not to mention free to try. This ain’t a bad place to begin.
“You can totally sign up here.” He offers me a clipboard then pulls a pen from the front pocket of his hoodie. Stamped on the top page is the Rock Central logo for the climbing gym in town.
Oh man, this just got real. I accept the clipboard and pen. Come on, Sadie. You’ve got this. Unless you’d rather have another thrilling evening of board games.
I scribble my name and phone number and check the box next to my skill level: beginner.
“The session starts at ten this coming Saturday, and once you arrive, you’ll also need to sign a waiver. And that’s it. We’ll get you climbing.” He passes me a blank waiver to be filled in at home for Saturday. “When I get back to the gym this afternoon, I’ll get your name in the system, so consider your spot reserved.” He smiles again. “We’ll provide the rental shoes and chalk and that’s all you’ll need. Just bring some water and a snack since the clinic will be two hours.” He grins, probably as glad to have a volunteer on his clipboard as I am.
I smile back, studying the colorful holds behind him. So, someone like me could actually give this a go? As a thrill shoots through me, I decide that being a beginner at something new is perhaps the perfect place to begin.