I remember the first time that I visited Yosemite to rock climb. My older and more experienced friend Kurt had invited me. I remember being full of excitement. He gave me a belay on my first climb, only a few months prior, at Pinnacles National Park. I had climbed trees and fences before, as a child, but it was different: harder, more complicated and daunting. Climbing became my passion.
As we arrived in Yosemite, we drove past a big wall of granite. A big full moon hung high in the sky, as the valley lit up with moonlight. Kurt pointed to El Cap, and asked if I’d heard someone howling. “Yes, what is that?” I asked, slightly confused. “It came from El Cap,” he said. I’d been feeling like howling…
