Climbers at the Crag

The following is a lyric tribute to Brentwood's Outdoor Pursuits Program https://drive.google.com/file/d/1AplrVJk6d7a__IXOkRiqAnT7fDHpZ6aR/view?ts=5b35d3a8 Inspired by Ernest Lawrence Thayer’s “Casey at the Bat”. The outlook wasn’t brilliant for the Squamish eight that day: The forecast told of rain, with but a slight chance of delay. And then when we awoke to mud, and naught but clouds above It took the strength of Joyra simply to stay positive. A straggling few joined breakfast in deep despair. The rest Clung to that hope which springs eternal in Ms. Olszewski’s breast. We thought, “If only sunshine could but peek at sodden crags” – We even put our lunches and our helmets in our bags. For o’er an hour we hiked between the crags with funny names: From Neat and Cool to Burgers’n’Fries – up, down, and up again. At last we found a place from which to hang our trusty ropes. The breeze picked up and blew the clouds, exposing brightened hopes. As yet, the cliffs were still too damp to climb, so first that day We forgot about ascending and went the other way! A short rappel permitted us to scan the lovely view Of snow-capped peaks, and high steep cliffs, and sea waves spark’ling blue. Then from eleven climbers’ throats there rose a lusty cheer: The clouds had fin’lly parted and the bright June sun was clear! We quickly – carefully – set up ropes, and then began to climb. So grateful for the chance, we made good use of precious time. As other climbers saw the sun, they too came out to play. We shared our ropes, were paid in snacks, and broke records there that day.   Some ropes were set on routes that asked for every ounce of grit, But grit paid off and each saw joy when they the anchor hit. At last, with fingers sore and scraped, and feeling never hotter, We made our way to Alice Lake and dove into the water. Delicious food was ours to eat, with burnt marshmallows foll’wing. So tir’d were we that right at dusk we felt deep sleep a-calling. The next day dawned grim as the last, and fast our spirits fell, But optimists are oft’ rewarded, as our guidebook loves to tell. We set our sights on craggy heights at Area Forty-Four And set off down the trail with our climbing shoes once more. The rain held off ‘til half past one, when the first drops fell on us, By then, though, it was time to pack and walk back to the bus. A ferry ride and quiet drive returned us to Mill Bay Where beds awaited, soft and warm, to end a joyful day. Oh, somewhere in this favoured land the rain is pouring down, And though we have left Squamish, we have memories of that town,   And we have shared so many laughs and struggled through the fears. Despite it all, we climbed the wall, for we are ODP-ers. ODP-er: A member of Outdoor Pursuits, usually most at home in the forest with no cell reception.  Hannah R, Mackenzie ‘18