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Sarah Jane Alexander – Reader Blogs Transplanted from Oregon, I lived in California for eight years before I discovered what truly endeared the state to my heart: the plentiful and diverse rocks! After my first ascent in June 2008, I was hooked on climbing.Feel free to e-mail comments to email@example.comGet the RSS Feed
For more from Sarah Jane Alexander visit her website: time2climb.com
Sarah Jane Alexander – Reader Blog 138/18/10 – I am the dot. Though barely visible, I am expanding. Expanding my worldly experiences first through my mind. I prayed to become the dot, though I didn’t know it exactly. I just told the universe I was ready to make money by doing things I enjoy. One day my friend Jayne called me and said, “What are you doing this weekend?” “Sounds like you have an idea.” “How would you like to be in a Toyota 4Runner photo shoot? They need a male and female rock climber.”Sarah Jane Alexander – Reader Blog 121/19/10 – A gym climber is among the freakiest of all vertical freaks. Our rewards are narrow, but we are unwaveringly obsessed. The easy beauty of songbirds expressing their joy does not grace our ears. We are lucky if we can stand whatever music pours from the gym speakers. Nurturing sunbeams do not warm our skin; sickly fake light radiates from the ceiling. Refreshing wind doesn’t caress our faces. The fans either blast us cold or aren’t strong enough to dry our sweat.Sarah Jane Alexander – Reader Blog 1110/14/09 – The First Time – The panicky voice reminded me of someone. The calm voice reminded me of many someones. My homegirl Jonalynn was having a freakout on a ledge at Wishon, California. To climb higher, she had to make a challenging move full of trust. It was her first climb ever – and on a route that was no gimme. It was probably a 5.7, harder than what I wanted to start her on, but there were no anchors above easier routes.Sarah Jane Alexander – Reader Blog 108/31/09 – I used to sit in my lonely Fresno apartment and pray for friends, sometimes weeping. Transplanted from Oregon for my job, I found my new home strange and unwelcoming. I enjoy spending time alone, but a person can only take so much isolation before she starts to feel abandoned, unwanted, forgotten.Sarah Jane Alexander – Reader Blog 98/04/09 – The Devil kept me awake. Until that night, nothing had ever prevented me from falling asleep. But I call him The Devil for a reason.No mere mortal could have created the horrible razor-blade rasping, louder and more dangerous sounding than a chainsaw grinding granite. These superhumanly loud honks gestated in mucus lungs and were birthed in nostrils of rusty steel.Sarah Jane Alexander – Reader Blog 87/23/09 – The guidebook called the Sequoia National Park route on Moro Rock a three-pitch 5.7. But when we arrived at the start of the third pitch, I knew we had been led astray. I was looking at a 5.10crux and I didn’t know what to do – except try.Sarah Jane Alexander – Reader Blog 75/12/09 – One of the best things I can say about myself as a climber is that I’ll try a lot of routes that intimidate me and I don’t mind getting shut out. Which is exactly what happened. Within seconds, the boulder made it clear who was boss.Sarah Jane Alexander – Reader Blog 64/08/09 – As a reward for not getting laid off (although everyone who survived got a pay cut, woo hoo!), I decided to come off the money I had been too scared to spend as the layoffs drew near. First stop: the liquor store. I stood in line behind three hicks who were buying two cases of beer and 12 bottles of whisky.Sarah Jane Alexander – Reader Blog 53/11/09 – “Sarah? Hello?” The voice of my climbing bro Alvaro snapped me out my daze. “Oh, hey, dude. I didn’t see you.” Then I realized I had trudged into the gym head down, staring at my feet. That’s not like me. I usually walk head held high, eyes gleaming, huge smile blazing. “What’s going on?” Alvaro asked, concern thick in his voice.Sarah Jane Alexander – Reader Blog 42/24/09 – Even though I was barely off the ground, three little boys gazed at me with awe. I was handling that gym plastic like I was born on it. Not doing anything tough or fancy – just graceful traversing. “Are you a real rock climber?” one of them asked. I replied with a question I had asked myself many times. “What’s a real rock climber?”Sarah Jane Alexander – Reader Blog 31/19/09 – I am teaching myself in the gym, gliding from wall to wall paging through “The Self-Coached Climber,” [By Dan Hague and Douglas Hunter / stackpolebooks.com] churning through its exercises.Now I sow the seeds of knowledge that will serve me when I emerge from winter’s cold cocoon as spring thaws the sleeping rocks.Sarah Jane Alexander – Reader Blog 212/29/08 – The crack split the rock beautifully, creating a perfect space for climbers to dig in.The relentless gash was intimidating. But so alluring.I knew that route, Lena’s Lieback, would most likely spank me. It was two grades above my climbing level – in Yosemite, where the polish on many routes makes them treacherously slick, and sandbagged.Sarah Jane Alexander – Reader Blog 112/11/08 – “How did you do?” my friend asked.I needed a fair way to tell her I sucked – but rocked it!How – in front of three longtime climbers who found every hold with easy grace – I frantically scanned the rock for handholds, footholds, any holds. Then when I saw something that looked big enough to cling to, I clawed and leapt and fell on the rope.I didn’t know the term then, but I was hangdogging like no dog had hung before.