Why am I rock climbing?

I contemplate reasons in my head for hundredth time.

Rock climbing and sleeping in desert. Two things I would never consider doing, not in a million years. But then again, through years there were many things I’ve done in my quest for balance in life; accomplishments that I never saw myself doing, such as speaking in public, having a life outside of children and housework, and becoming an athlete. However, after careful consideration, I still didn’t know why I am venturing into climbing, but it is something I need to do for myself. (Photo left: A buddy system always works best — two are better than one.)

Marian Marbury of Adventures in Good Company prepares me by providing information about trip: what to expect, what to bring, contact info to reach others. Her website and letters offer links to wonderful photos and facts of Joshua Tree National Park, climbing, and car camping in desert. Marian has thirty years of experience in backpacking, hiking, and canoeing, and ten years of climbing experience — she definitely knew her stuff — That's why she started Adventures in Good Company in 1999.

Marian’s guides and staff are qualified and experienced. In fact, Kathy Cosley is quite a celebrity in field of mountaineering — she was first ever amongst men and women to be certified in mountaineering and rock climbing.

However, desert brings to mind desolation and death; images of blowing sand, cow skulls, and an occasional tumbleweed rolling. Oh, and eerie Western music from Clint Eastwood’s, “The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly” plays along in my mind as I think of this Mojave Desert ecosystem. After my research I could not picture this “fascinating” world.

Joshua Tree National Park is a surreal world of geologic displays. I have fallen into a computer-created movie where mountains of rocks, enormous boulders of varying sizes defying gravity, sitting one on top of other, forming a mountain. They look as if a giant placed rocks in these arrangements, perhaps creating a booby trap tumbling down any second and crushing everything in their path.

There is no death and desolation here either. No cow skulls and occasional tumbleweeds; instead, life and an amazing story of survival! Desert plants and grasses with unbelievable blooms reveal their patience, waiting upon rain — for a long, long time, not giving up but holding on and finally getting water they need, blossoming in beautiful arrays, desert now looking more like a meadow. People tell me about beauty of springtime desert, now in a rainbow profuse wtih enthusiasm and passion. My overwhelming senses inhale sights.

There I was, peering down over edge of a cliff, shivering as wind raced through my hair. I watched droplets of river water fall from tip of my nose 30 feet to rumbling whitewater below. This was why I had come; to finally put my seemingly endless slumber of everyday apathy to rest. (Opening photo: Voyage with Jetsetters Magazine writer Josh Edelson down Lower Kern River on a White Water Rafting Adventure.)

It had only been a few hours into day one and already we had carved a route through intense Class III rapids, participated in numerous water fights, and ate a lunch easily comparable to a five-course buffet on a cruise ship. Now, three stories above taunting Kern River, I stood there debating whether or not I had courage to jump.

A lot goes through your mind when you're standing atop a cliff, but this was what I came for — to feel scared; to feel nervous; to feel. . . something. In a world where society has trained us to become money making machines, we tend to forget about things that make us happy. We tend to forget what it's like to be out there, tasting scent of Earth, smelling sun.

The moment I stepped off that ledge, something happened to me. My heart started racing, my eyes opened like oyster shells, and for one brief moment, I forgot about years of career searching, constant pressure to build a family and an above average house, need for a status-symbol car. There was one thing on my mind as I was flying through air — that recurrent dream I've always had where I fall, and awake just as I hit ground. It was one of those dreams where you lose all control, and you know something? It felt good! I listened carefully as pitch and speed of wind in my ears rose as I fell faster, and faster toward beckoning river below. The hairs on my arms trembled with fear, my blood pressure rose; my brain was on information overload. Then "Splashdown!" My shoes slapped water like a bat on a tin trash can, and Kern River quickly gobbled me up and spit me out downstream to eddy where rest of my crew welcomed me back. Now, I was awake; now, I was alive.

The Lower Kern river is warm. Now arguably, someone from Alaska might think a 45 degree shower is warm, but I'm from California, and I'm telling you, this river was warm. The reason for this is because entire flow of Lower Kern is runoff from damn upstream which warms in Lake Isabella. It's based in The Sequoia National Forest — a national park dedicated to wildlife, fishing, camping, hiking, and of course whitewater rafting.