“Salta! Salta! [Jump!]”
“Yaaa! [Alright!]” I mumbled under
my breath.
The precipice wasn't even very high.
But below me, the waterfall that cascaded below churned the pond
white. Not being able to see to the bottom made me nervous. But hey,
so did having to rappel down the other waterfall earlier, with
only a slim rope keeping me from falling and cracking my head.
Welcome to Pozo Alcón, Jaén. A.k.a. a
tiny village of 5,500 people in the nether regions of the Sierra de
Cazorla [Cazorla Mountains]. A.k.a. the place where I faced my fear
of jumping from tall heights over, and over, and over again. A.k.a.
the place where I had one of the best experiences of my life!
It all started with a language
misunderstanding (which is how some of the best experiences usually
start, here in Spain). My friend invited me on a day trip to Pozo
Alcón to do “barranquismo”. I misassociated the word with
“boat”, so I thought he was referring to whitewater rafting. I boasted that I'd done it before in Canada.
In fact, I'd never done anything like
this. But I didn't know that as I woke up bright and early that
Saturday, eager to fight some rapids. Even as I squirmed my body into
a neoprene suit, and then strapped on a harness around my waist and
thighs, which contained a carabiner and a metal hook shaped like an
'8', called an “8 belay ring”. Right there that should have been
my clue that we were going to climb walls, but for some reason I
thought the harness was for in case one of us fell out of the raft,
our partner could grab it and pull us back in. (If you look up the
word 'tonta' in a dictionary, you'll see my picture.)
Barranquismo can be roughly translated from the word
'ravine' as 'canyoning'. You follow a river through the path it has
carved out in a mountain, although most of the time you're walking in
the river. On occasion you must swim through parts, climb rocks, or
rappel down waterfalls – which is what the harness was for. Not only
was this my first time doing barranquismo, it was also my first time
rappelling outdoors. It was scary, as we didn't use professional
guides, rather a few of the experienced men in our group helped us. The walls were wet and slippery, and my
old running shoes didn't have grip. Plus I started every rappel by
leaning back into the void, having to trust that the rope and
harness would hold. Even though I almost suffered a heart attack each
time, it was really exciting, too.
At one point, we found an airy
waterfall that came from the canyon edges high above. As I stood in
front of it, from my perspective it looked like the earth was
breaking apart into pieces, and falling upon me, each droplet looking
like a piece of the world evaporating. It was mindblowing to watch,
because it symbolized how my life has been falling apart lately
(don't ask). Nature was showing me that something agonizing and
destructive can also be so beautiful to behold.
The entire journey took 3-4 hours, as
we had close to 20 people in our group. It helped that we were all
fit. Although there are parts where you can quietly float as you
stare up at the natural, spectacular surroundings, there's plenty of
hiking, climbing, jumping, and swimming. So if anyone ever invites
you for barranquismo, get ready for some scary fun!
