We pull up to three eighty-foot silos that are iced to perfection with huge curtains of ice gleaming in the sunlight. A couple of climbers are already on one, aggressively swinging their ice axes and slowly moving their way up to ring the bell at the top.
I slide out of my truck and walk to the back, pulling the tailgate open to grab my bag.
Maggie joins me, her eyes wide as I open a bag that probably looks like it’s full of murder weapons to her. “I don’t have any of that stuff,” she says, looking nervously at my gear and then up at the ice climbers. “I didn’t know I needed it.”
I half smile and shake my head at her. “No worries, they have everything here.”
“Maggie!” a voice calls out, and I turn to see a guy with a ponytail running toward us. He’s literally running as if getting to her five seconds faster will be worth it. “You actually came.”
“Hi…” Maggie falters, clearly searching for his name.
“Ezekiel, remember?” He reaches out and pulls her into a hug, which seems overly friendly for someone whose name she didn’t even remember. “And you are?”
He looks at me, and I reflexively puff my chest out. “Sam.”
“Ezekiel,” Maggie stammers, “this is my friend, Sam. He’s apparently an avid climber and has offered to assist me today. Sam, Ezekiel was staying at the same bed and breakfast as I was and is one of the guys from the magazine who recommended I try this out.”
“You’re an avid climber?” Ezekiel asks, his eyes falling down my body like he doesn’t believe it.
“I used to be,” I reply through clenched teeth because I can already smell this guy’s fucking testosterone, and I don’t like it. “I haven’t climbed in a couple of years.”
“If you don’t use it, you lose it, man.”
I roll my eyes and sling my bag over my shoulder. “I’m not worried.”
“This ain’t no waterfall climb,” Ezekiel states with narrowed eyes.
I lift my brows and have to hold back my laughter. “No, it certainly is not. But my buddy and I did a lot of bouldering and redpointing…so I think I’m going to be just fine.”
Ezekiel’s Adam’s apple bobs, and I can feel Maggie looking nervously at the two of us as we stare each other down for a beat. This is why Maggie can’t just go gallivanting around Boulder looking for adventure. There are way too many potheads around here who think they’re God’s gift to the world and to women. Maggie doesn’t need to be dealing with that bullshit on her own.
We head over to the empty silo, and the guides on staff at the farm get to work setting Maggie up with their rental gear while I strap into my own. Maggie’s eyes look wide and wary as she takes in a brief climbing lesson from the female guide named Sherry.
When I finish tightening my harness, a voice sounds off from behind me. “Care to do a little wager?”
I look over and see Ezekiel with his helmet on, looking ready for action. “What are the stakes?”
“Winner gets to be her belayer.” His eyes are on Maggie who is only half-listening to her instructor because she’s watching us instead.
“No,” I reply instantly. “I’m here with Maggie. I’m her belayer.”
“C’mon, old man…you scared?” Ezekiel goads me with an annoying tip to his chin that makes me want to punch him. His buddies come walking over with big smiles that I also want to smack right off their faces.
“I’m not fucking scared,” I state, feeling adrenaline surge through my veins at their challenge. “Or that old,” I mumble to myself mostly.
“Then do it!” one of the guys shouts and then goes quiet when I glare at him.
“What are you worried about?” Ezekiel asks. “If I win, you’ll know I’m an experienced climber, so it’s not like she’ll be in novice hands. My hands are very good at belaying beautiful women.”
Damn do I want to punch this cocky fucker. And I want to beat him. Punch him and beat him and shove his face in this snow. All of the above would feel really good right about now.
“Do it,” Maggie chimes in, and the instructor Sherry seems to be equally interested in our conversation.
“Why are you all ganging up on me right now?” I ask, looking around at everyone gathering closer, instructors and climbers alike. “I’m just here to belay my friend.”
“We have a tradition here that’s pretty cool,” Sherry states with a big smile. “If you let us film you guys racing live for our social media page, the winning racer gets a free weekend stay at our ski chalet up in the mountains next weekend. It has a private natural hot spring that is life changing, not to mention some pretty awesome snowboarding slopes.”
“Yes,” Ezekiel cheers with a fist up in the air. “We’re doing this.”
“We’re not,” I state firmly.
“Sam,” Maggie interrupts. “Just do it. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“This fucking idiot belays you poorly, and you get injured.”
“Ezekiel has been here all morning,” Sherry states, stepping closer to me. “I can assure you he is an excellent belayer.”
I exhale heavily and wonder how the fuck this went from me helping Maggie not die to me racing up a damn silo against some asshole with beaded dreadlocks.
“Unless you’re scared,” Ezekiel states with his hands held back. “I get it. Your bones are brittle, and you wouldn’t want to injure yourself.”
Maggie giggles softly from beside me, and my inner caveman voice shouts, Don’t let this blond, dreadlock-wearing, granola-eating pothead show you up in front of a girl! You know you can crush him!
I shake my head at Maggie. “You should be on my side.”
“I am!” Maggie exclaims excitedly. “It’ll be fun to watch. And it’ll help shake off the major anxiety I have over climbing up this thing right now.” She gives me a look that is so sweet and innocent, yet somehow sexy and alive…I realize with great embarrassment that I’d probably eat yellow fucking snow for this chick standing before me.
So like an idiot, I turn to Ezekiel, and state, “Fuck it…on belay, man.”
Ezekiel and his buddies whoop with joy, and minutes later, we’re standing ten feet apart at the bottom of the silo, geared up, helmets on, and cell phone cameras all pointing at us. A video camera and a photographer are catching all this action as well. I better not get my ass beat.
“Belayers, are you ready?” Sherry shouts from her position between us.
“On belay!” we both shout back, and I look at the staff member who is belaying for me. Maggie is standing right beside him with a big, bright smile on her face.
“Belay on!” the belayers shout back.
And we’re off.
The climb is intense. It’s a straight up vertical with no breaks and no ice screws anywhere. Just me, my two ice axes, and the crampons on my boots to hold me up. Because it’s a top rope climb, there’s a rope that goes from me through an anchor at the top of the silo and then back down to the belayer. The belayer keeps the rope nice and tight as I ascend the wall, giving me slack only when I need it.
The climb is a blur of ice chunks as my ax pierces the firm curtains of sparkling frost and I make my way up the silo. I actually don’t even look at the other guy because I know that’ll just slow me down. I continue jabbing my toes in foot by foot and make my way toward to top. Maggie’s cheering from below grows fainter the higher I ascend. This is definitely a more intense workout than the waterfalls, and my quads and biceps are screaming at me as I push them to their breaking point. Normally, I’m slow and steady, but right now, I’m doing larger grabs and using my muscles to heave my body up this silo as fast as I possibly can.
I finally lay eyes on the guy above me with his cell phone camera pointed right at me. “Come on, man, you’re almost here! This is insane!”
I frown, wondering how badly I must be losing for that sort of comment. I didn’t think I’d heard a bell ring yet, but maybe Ezekiel rang it a long time ago, and I was too low to hear it?