Climbing
“Incoming call from Base Ethos Command Center,” announced Joe’s earpiece.
“Ugh,” grunted Rescue Officer Joe Dillen, “I just want to hear the wind.” He tapped his earpiece and responded. “Dillen here.”
“How’s it looking up there, Dillen?”
“Not too bad,” he informed. “The blades did well in the hail storm. Only some minor surface pitting… Nothing I can’t fix. I’ll be done in two hours.”
“Roger that. Be safe. Command Center out.”
Joe had lied about how long it would take him to fix the blades. Nothing was wrong with them at all. He just wanted to be 200 feet up in the air for as long as he could. He looked out over the beautiful Pacific and lost himself to its mesmerizing deep blue shimmer. Clasping his rope, he contently dangled beside one of the base’s hundred wind turbines, this particular one out on the seawall. It felt as if he was sitting beside an old friend.
Up here, the troubles of Earth felt silent. Up here, he could be one with nature and one with himself. Up here was peace.
Climbing had nearly taken Joe’s life three times in his twenty-eight years. The first time he was in the Grand Teton’s. The second was in the Austrian Alps. The last time was in Arches National Park, in Utah, where it wasn’t the climb itself, but the flash flood that nearly drowned his campsite. Each near death experience only made his love for the sport grow to the point where now it was a full-blown obsession. After all, even with all of its dangers, it had actually saved him.
So, when UNIRO send out the call for wind turbine technicians, the position was a no-brainer for Joe. He could do what he loved while saving the world, giving back with the sport that took him back from the brink of drug induced self-destruction.
Everyday Joe scaled a new turbine. Everyday he saw the world from a different angle. Everyday he felt the wind…