Grasping the narrow ledge and less than adequate hand-holds, I reflected on how I ended up here. Less than two hours ago I was overjoyed at the prospect of climbing my first real rock. I had climbed walls before and considered myself a good climber. I admittedly was not exceptional but neither did I believe I was terrible. I was confident that this endeavor would be simple. Not only did I believe I was up to the challenge but I looked forward to jeering any of my friends that had trouble.
             The first obstacle was actually getting up to where the harnesses were passed out. I tensed as I viewed my path. It was three rock faces that came together forming various angles. The person ahead of me took a running start, leaped from the first to the second rock face, and then to the top with the agility of a tennis ball. My chest tightened watching him. I closed my eyes and held my breath. Although I displayed the grace of an ox, I did make it up... barely. I could feel the adrenaline pump through my body. My knees were shaking and I was sure I would fall off the mountain and die any moment now.
             My head was swimming and I found it hard to keep my balance. I fumbled with my harness. Once it was on, I double and triple checked to be sure it was properly attatched. Looking down into the valley below I started to sway even more and felt I would soon loose my balance. It had to be two or there hundred feet to the bottom of the valley. I sat down on what felt like loose gravel. I sipped some water and calmed down. The climbers all appeared to be having an easy time of it and although I was not quite yet ready to volunteer I felt confident I would not embarrass myself. I was naive.
             My turn soon came. Upon standing I felt dizzy and slightly nauseous. I staggered over to the rock face and attatched my cable. I stared up and gulped. It seemed much higher than it did sitting down. I lifted one foot and then the other...