Climbing Rocks and Dreams :: Personal Narrative, Autobiographical Essay

I am the bravest guy I know. I don't mean to brag, but that's just the way it is. Granted, I'm not great pals with any prisoners of war or any cowboys, but I am a climber, and climbers are hardcore. By sheer will, climbers scale overhanging rock faces, risk life and limb in the pursuit of the summit, and just generally go all out all the time. Aside from being able to handle the risk, climbers latch onto the sharpest and most painful handholds for the simplest reward of having climbed a particular rock wall. No, climbers don't seek attention from the crowds or big bucks for competing; they climb with the pure, unadulterated motivation of being brave enough to achieve their dreams. What places me in the upper most tier of bravery among climbers, aren't the bold routes I've conquered, but rather my willingness to commit to my dreams with irrefutable impetuousness. Throughout my 17 years of life, I've always had an affinity for adventure. The same irrational craving I had as a child for extended power outages fueled my desire to be a climber-in particular my desire to climb at America's most famous bouldering area, Hueco Tanks, Texas. While I had done a significant amount of climbing beforehand, including a weeklong Southern climbing tour with the Adventure Guild, I had only gotten my foot in the door of the climbing scene. I had to have more. My participation in this trip to Hueco not only placed me on the road to becoming a prominent climber, but also enlightened me to my outstanding bravery. There wasn't a single thing that scared me there. Even from the very beginning, I started out on the courageous path. I had been sick the week leading up to the trip, but no, I didn't let the fear of being stranded sick in a tent in the middle of the dessert hold me back. It was a beautiful early afternoon after the last half-day of school before spring break, and I was getting in my car totally distraught over my parent's decision that I would not go on the trip. (After all, they had only let me come to school that day because I had to take a math test.) After tossing my books in the back seat of my car, I casually cruised over to the microbus where Stuart, the trip leader, and the rest of the climbers were busily making final preparations for their departure.