Imminent Doom

It's time to reach back in the Vault of Yesteryear and entertain the masses with something I did about a year ago, as you will be able to tell from the pictures. Sadly, my sis and bro have not made it back out for a visit, because they are busy being Responsible People. I have been meaning to post this for a while - I was actually hanging on for dear life when I realized, 'this was going on the blog'. I have never posted, bc I have crap for pictures, but I have now given up on Courtney ever getting me her pretty ones, so here it is. I love her, but getting pictures out of Court is like trying to pry a penny out of Scrooge's hands.

On this particular Saturday, we decide to go on an Adventure. The plan was to rent kayaks and go see a small offshore island way up the east side. I was excited, because I love going places we don't normally trek out to, since they are so far away. In the future, I will ask more questions before I blindly agree to things.

I should have known from the start to be wary, as things got off on a good foot...barely. Ever frugal, we realized it was cheapest to take kayaks out ourselves instead of getting them delivered. However, after finally lashing them to the roof of the car, we had to stop. Paul was hungry.

Paul is ALWAYS hungry. It is amazing. Watching Paul has made me believe that I won't be able to support sons, and I have started praying for girls. The amount of food he consumes...there are no words.

Anyway, we in the process of pulling into the drive-thru when I suddenly sit and up scream 'WAIT!'

If you are my mom or Krysten Ivy, you are probably laughing because I started shouting instructions once before in a car, when I was 12 and thought we were all about to plunge to our deaths. Turns out, not so much. Mom never let me live this down. But I am finally vindicated, because this time I saved the car from some serious unfortunatedness. Apparently, due to his imminent starvation, Paul had completely forgotten about the kayaks on the roof, and we were no longer going to fit under the drive thru entrance bar. His car was about to become a tin can. Enter Tiffany's Fortuitous Warning. Ah ha ha ha! So I saved the day. Everyone was kind of surprised, including myself.

Such a cognizant thought is so unlikely coming from me, I have come to the conclusion that the Lord was watching out for us, and poked me in the head to alert everyone. Seriously.

It looks so small and innocent, doesn't it? Deception.

Disaster averted, we headed over to the island, which is called Chinaman's Hat. It was here that I barely survived Disaster #2, which was falling to my death. Oh yeah.

It started out innocently enough:
- Noodle arm workout, so by the time we had walked the 50 ft from the car to the beach with the kayak, I was done? Check.
- Kayak with David which required miscommunication and some yelling? Check
- Snorkeling in freezing ass water? Check.
- Almost twist ankle on rock/coral/air? Duh. Check.

Kayaking out to the island

It was at this point that I was feeling significantly outdoorsy, and I could shut myself inside with a book again and not feel guilty. In other words, Tiffy is ready for some Coldstone. (I LOVE Coldstone. Come to me, oh blessed Cake Batter, for you are the manna of heaven) Ahem. Anyway.

Hi Court and Paul!

So, my bubble of outdoor kumbayah was immediately popped by Court, who announced that we will be climbing to the top. Um, what? They went first, so we could watch the kayaks, and I could see if they would come back unmaimed. A hour later, they were back, looking thrilled and windswept. They were still alive, so I figured, 'How hard can it be? If my sister, of whom I have vivid memories of throwing a fit every time our family went hiking, could make it, so could I.' Sadly, my brain decided to omit the last 5 years, when Court went crazy and had a Personality Replacement, during which she switched majors to Park and Tourism Sciences, and actually had core classes called 'Kayaking I' and 'Backpacking Science'. Also, Paul has been raised outdoors, and David's been backpacking in the Oregon mountains, or something. Somewhere in the upper left part of the US, anyway.

So that leaves me.

Ankle Twister Extraordinaire.

I cannot describe the next 1? 2? hours. It felt like a century. Please note that I soon discovered there was no actual trail. BECAUSE SANE PEOPLE DON'T DO THIS. Apparently you just kind of aim for the top and start scrabbling. Please see the diagram below.

I am so pissed - I spent a while on this, and I can't even load it big enough to be legible! Arg!

If I wasn't focusing on sliding off the extreme incline, which was happily covered in thin, sandy gravel, I was worrying about losing my grip and falling off a cliff to my death. There was nothing but grasses for dozens of yards surrounding the final drop into the ocean, so if you ever fell - hello, breathing tube. This entire climb I was inwardly pissed, and if I made it off this rock, someone was going to die. Probably my sister. I am pretty cool with the outdoors in general; camping, getting dirty, not a problem. Inclines, well, that's another story.

As you can see, at some point you quit fighting gravity on slanted gravel, and start going straight up. Let me access my countless hours of climbing! Oh wait, I used to live in a flat state where I considered any ground swell over 5 ft tall to be a hill. Somehow, I scaled the cliff, with some helpful coaching from David; I could just follow where he was putting his hands/feet. However, this did not stop the fun mental images my mind was busy creating and playing in slow motion of slipping and falling to my death in fun and interesting ways.

We were nearing the top, thank God, when suddenly out of nowhere this guy climbs around the ridge next to us and cheerily says hello like we were meeting on the street or something instead of a slip away from imminent doom. I kind of watched slack-jawed as he bounded to the top like some crazed mountain goat. Whenever someone is doing something slightly questionable (outdoors-wise) out here, it is always a whitey. When I get to work and we talk about our weekends, I've invariably done something that causes my coworkers to all stop and look at me like I'm nuts. They say I make them feel bad, because in the year I've lived here I've been more places than they have, or to places that they've never even heard of. One of them remarked that he didn't even know that it was possible to climb to the top of Chinaman's Hat. What is it about us transplants? You very rarely catch Hawaiians up on crazy cliffs.

Look at this! Where are my grappling hooks!?

So by the time we got to the top, I was tapped out. The view was amazing - gorgeous and sunny, on a sparsely inhabited part of the island. Sadly, I was not fully enjoying it because I was busy informing David that the only way I was leaving was via helicopter. He kind of laughed, and then realized I was being serious, and it kind of warbled off into some odd giggles. Ha ha, David! Make the call.

I can't even fake a smile at this point. Nice grimace!

Eventually I realized that I was going to have to go down myself. The horror.

To make things super-fun, the rocks are black, just like all the other volcanic rock around here. Black + Sun = Scalding. Like center-of-a-hot-pocket hot. You know what I mean. But that didn't stop me - I was all over those rocks like a starving man on a Big Mac during my extremely slow decent to the steep incline area, which was looking better and better by the moment.

I have to take a break from whining for a moment and give a huge kudos to the husband, who was ridiculously encouraging and helpful as he showed me where to put my hands/feet on the way down. Even though he was probably screaming 'DEAR GOD WOMAN, MOVE YOUR ASS - MY GRANDMOTHER COULD CLIMB DOWN FASTER!' all I heard were sweet words and amazing levels of patience. So here's to you bebes - you talked me off the ledge.

Literally.

I eventually made it down alive, much to my surprise. I was seriously having visions of my mom attending my funeral. I'm sure she's glad to hear I'm doing things like this out here. Love you Mom!

I wish I had taken a few pictures of the hike, but pictures were the last thing on my mind at the moment. Once I jumped over the last hurdle (which took a minute to work up to) I was safe. Flat(ish) ground! I love thee! Now that it was over, I was all proud of myself, and decided to omit the parts in my memory where I was a big sissy, and patted myself on the back. I was a climbing stud!

As I started to calm down, I got really shaky because my body had been pumping adrenaline constantly for like an hour and half, and returning the the regularly scheduled program was kind of a drag. Also, I was starting to notice my hands felt funny. Ouch.

OW

OWOWOWOW (revert back to being a weenie)

I had been clinging a little too enthusiastically to the rocks for too long - I actually burned my hands and got blisters.

Which was a perfect excuse to go easy on the paddling back. Gotta find those silver lings where you can.

*UPDATE*

Apparently I need to call Court out in a public forum more often, because she sent me the pictures below today. Hoorah!

Kayak Gangstas? I'm really not quite sure what I'm doing here.

This picture makes my butt look big.

Taking on Nature

Foreshadowing of the fun to come




How did she even take this picture?

At least someone had a good time.

Sea Booger (Snail)