What NOT to do when it is 100 degrees in the Shade

After a lovely party on Saturday for G's brother and his fiancee, I decided that it wasn't enough to mince around in a cute dress in oppressive heat. NO! I had to go CLIMB in it!

I met Brian in Rumney on Sunday morning. At 10.30 am I was already sweating through my NorthFace vaporwick tank top. We grabbed our gear and several gallons of water and began the approach to Triple Corners, a crag that stood at least a chance of being out of direct sunlight.

It was so hot and airless that several times on THE APPROACH, we (well, me) had to stop and pant and gasp for air. Brian took over carrying the rope which somehow weighed in at about a zillion pounds. When we reached Triple Corners, we sat down in the shade for a while and watched some older guys clean poo off their dog's butt. We climbed some and felt ok. Hot, tired, but mostly ok. We were chugging the water like it was 100 degrees in the shade. We climbed some more, noticing that after every 2 moves or so, we had to take a rest and that our muscles were protesting loudly at having to work so hard in such dreadful conditions.

After climbing a route that managed to lie in direct sunlight we decided that it wasn't worth making ourselves sick and headed down to the olde swimming hole. There is this perfect spot in the river that is deep enough so that you can dive off these rocks and into the refreshing and cool water. It's the best feeling after a day climbing, sweating, and getting eaten by mosquitos.

Brian and I swam for a bit then decided to head into town, get something to eat, drink more water and sit in an air conditioned building for a while. I was starting to feel kind of ill. My head hurt and I felt a bit nauseous, but I figured it wasn't anything some nachos and ice water couldn't fix.

As we ate, or as I tried to eat, I started feeling more and more awful. I was drinking water, but I still felt like vomiting and my head felt as though it was going to split open. Back in the car, I slumped over and tried not to think about puking. Brian decided it was time to go to the hospital when I didn't seem to know the answers to simple questions like, Is this CD annoying you? (Had I been more than semi-conscious, the CD TOTALLY would have been annoying me.)

We arrive at the hospital where they take my blood pressure about 4 times and ask me a bunch of questions that i have trouble answering, like, Where do you work? After sharing a waiting room with a man VERY LOUDLY heaving into a pan, they admit me and set me up with an IV full of lovely hydrating saline.

When my brother, Devon, was small, maybe 6 or 7, he had to go to the hospital for some reason or another (possibly smashing his head open on some playground equipment) and when the doctor came to give him an IV, he started crying and freaking out. "Why are you giving me HIV? I don't want you to give me HIV!" I recounted this story to Brian as I became increasingly more coherent.

Once the nurse had the (H)IV going pretty good, she put up the railings on the side of the bed, (I guess so I wouldn't fall out?) and left. It felt like I was in some sort of cage... Brian and I came to the same realization at the exact same moment, it was a VEINCAGE!!!

Eventually, I was well enough to go home. Armed with instructions on drinking as much as I could for the next day or so, I left. Brian and I stopped for milkshakes before I began the arduous two hour drive home, during which time I vowed to stop trying to be a climbing jungle commando in the 8th circle of hell.

Honest.