French la Vie

Yann and I went hiking in the calanques, (the rough coast line between Cassis and Marseille,) our starting point a charming obscure little port called, Morgiou. Yann told me to bring a book, he said, "I’m going to rope down the Cap de Morgiou, while I do that you can sit behind a rock and read in the sun." Cold windy day, sit in sun, read a book, while he ropes down a sheer face cliff. Every voice inside of me was screaming, "Don’t go!" I grabbed a book and went.

My husband’s back pack, full of rope, hooks, clips, things I don’t know the names of, plus water, some granola bars, helmet and other rock climbing paraphernalia, is bigger and heavier than me. I am carrying myself, my camera and a book.

Forty-seven minutes worth of breathing hard and worried I’m going to slip and fall, or be blown off the cliff. Yann casually says, "Okay, this is where I am going to drop down, if you want Corey you can hike over there and watch me." Looking around I do not see any rock to sit behind to keep warm. "Okay!" I say with a smile but underneath I’m encouraging myself, "You won’t fall, your strong, you’re not a grey-haired-butter-ball, you can do it, you’re a big girl, the wind isn’t going to blow you off the cliff.

…

Carefully, head down bearing the mistral face on I finally arrive on the other side. I see for the first time the reality of what Yann does; He is HANGING on a rope! My mouth hits the stony ground and I feel like I am going to vomit! Then the second truth comes to mind, "SACHA does this too! I don’t want to look, but then again, I dare not too. I’m terrified!

It reminds me of my Father… every Friday night after he had milked the cows, we would hop in his pick-up truck and go to Cycle-land, a flat track motorcycle speedway, where he would race. Sitting in the bleachers I would feel the same feeling I have now! Terrified!

Half way down the cliff the wind catches Yann, he starts to swing back and forth and is twirling around and around! Who could read a book while this is going on? There are some other hikers behind me and they comment on how crazy that person is rock climbing in this wind! I agree with them, and don’t mention that the crazy person is my husband!

Standing there watching Yann I forget that I am cold, I forget that I am very close to the edge, I forget that I have a book, and I nearly forget to take a picture of him hanging there!

He waves to me! He is mad, simply mad! I think to myself, I will never complain about any form of housework again if he makes it back alive God. Great now, I am bartering with God!

Slowly he makes his way to the top, he is smiling and his enthusiastic energy is evident. He smiles, "Did you take a picture of me?" I stare at this mass of fearless wonder, "Yann, you looked like a worm on a hook! Ready for some starving fish to jump out of the sea and swallow you up in one delicious gulp!" Yann stares at me and laughs with pleasure!

My Frenchman and no complaining about him, nor housework again!