Desert Lessons

Kylie Fly climbs, camps, and connects in Moab.

Por Peak Design

The following story was written and shot by the one, the only, Kylie Fly. You may remember her from the time she and her two doppelgangers hit up the Grand Canyon. Well, she's back. And we (and you) are all the luckier for it. Take it away, Fly.

New perspective

I press against the sandy stone with my back, sliding my butt into place while pressing my palms into the rock. I clinch small holds; pushing against the wall to shift my weight to work with me rather than against me. I love this feeling. I love the way the cool gritty rock feels beneath my dusty fingers, shaded by its own shadow tucked behind the sun. I jam my hands in the crack, continuing skyward.

I’ve made it to the top. With sandy hands and sun on my face, the view is especially beautiful from up here. Peaceful. My palms feel a little clammy but I hardly notice it. I’m too exhilarated to care about my fear of heights. They say to gain a new perspective, you just need to change your position—and rock climbing will do just that for you.

Bag pictured: Everyday Backpack 20L by Peak Design

From the top

I’m sitting at the top of Owl Rock, after just cleaning up trad gear on my first spire. I’m in Arches National Park, just outside of Moab.

And I really love rock climbing.

My wrists feel weak and my legs were recovering from shaking violently, somewhere between a crack and another hard place. I absolutely love the feeling of fatigue. So much of climbing is mental. It’s one of the few times my mind goes silent—there’s no room to think of anything else. I focus only on my next hold and telling myself in my mind to keep pushing, keep climbing. Remove the gear. Clip. Step, reach, grab; again, again and again.

This ability to focus is exactly what I need in my life.

I’m too engrossed on surviving another climb to let my mind wander aimlessly through to do lists and everyday things. With the stamina to redirect my thoughts, I can accomplish anything. I take a few moments to breathe. Deep, slow breaths. I focus on what is right in front of me, and nothing else. It’s so freeing—a relief.

a little background

As a kid, I was always afraid of heights. I remember standing on the shed in my family’s backyard and my brothers challenging me to jump off the roof onto the trampoline below. It wasn’t a dangerous drop, but I wasn’t about to let my siblings tease me for being a wimp as my palms got wet with sweat and my heart skipped seventeen beats. I jumped. Fast forward to college—I’m with all my guy friends bridge jumping, and everyone’s taking their turn flinging themselves into the river. I don’t know that I like the idea, but I eventually find myself on the edge cursing the entire way down until I’m finally enveloped in cool summer water. I jumped again. This pattern continues—and I keep jumping my way through adulthood. At first I couldn’t decide whether this was a good or bad thing. Had I just been giving in to peer pressure? Or did I actually want to jump?

That’s when I realized—fear doesn’t have to be a negative thing.

be afraid

I fully support doing the things that scare you—but going safe, smart and with a lot of passion. Even now, my palms get sweaty and my heart races when I’m on an edge but I’ve noticed a strange calmness that quickly follows and takes over. I’m not sure how the shift occurred, but it started with rock climbing. It’s both incredibly healing and addicting. I’m extremely grateful to the friends and mentors I’ve met along the way and for the community I’ve found in this new territory. Climbing has taught me that it’s ok to be afraid—a healthy amount of fear keeps you aware of your surroundings, focused on being present, and ultimately much more safe. Fear can be a motivator for action, and when supported by proper training and education there’s far less to be afraid of.

disconnect and actually connect

One thing I love most about camping and going off the grid is embracing the no service signal and letting go of your connection to the outside world. In today’s society, so many of us connect via social media that to be physically present and right in front of each other’s faces can somehow feel like a rare opportunity.

We need to take advantage of the times we are together and put our phones in airplane mode.

Disconnect to actually connect. It feels good to let social media hang without you for a while. It’ll still be there when you get back, and you might even realize you don’t miss it all that much. Besides, when was the last time social media took you rock climbing in the desert?