You could be watching your millionth sunset over the ocean, or flying over a tropical Island, but every once in a while everyone gets a chance to be absolutely blown over by the scene in front of them, it’s one of the greatest feelings in the world. El Cap pretty much guarantees you an opportunity to go to that place.
Timmy says it well:
Each night there was a pretty consistent routine. Get the ropes all good, find a comfortable place to sit down and clip in, eat some food that Timmy would put together , and then just chill. We brought this little speaker too, so we would play some music during dinner and the down time. I’m not sure what night it was, but there was a gap in the conversation and things went silent. Nobody had their headlamp on and there was this perfect moment of quiet except for the Pink Floyd… Heath noticed it, I noticed it. We became fully aware that we were sitting thousands of feet off the ground in the pitch black listening to music. It was unbelievable. You’d look down into the valley below and watch the traffic drive in from the tunnel. The constant stream of headlights in the black looked like lava flowing down a mountain.
When you’re a kid you might build a fort in your living room from sheets and broom sticks, or maybe camp in your back yard. It was usually rooted in that feeling of want, wanting to feel like you’re somewhere different, your own world where you’re doing something unique. Well, after I’d tied my shoes, long sleeve shirt, and water bottle into my rope, I’d lay back, pull my sleeping bag over me and look up. I’d look around and think “I can’t believe I’m fucking here man. I can’t believe if you looked from the valley that we’d be less than a speck on the wall and this is where I’m sleeping. I can’t believe I have to tie my shoes in because there’s no guarantee they’d be there in the morning if I didn’t. I can’t believe I’m going to bed in a rock climbing harness a half mile off the ground”