rshort1202

I am outside on a climbing trip with some others at what seems to be the Donner Lake area. We approach the short, dark rock, and I see that it is the route named Short Subject (it is a shorter route, and the bolts do lead horizontally, but in the wrong direction. The ground below is flat and not steeply sloping away, like it is in reality). There are already quickdraws set and a faded orange rope running through them. Lucas walks up the route and begins soloing the route. Everyone else in the group is not paying much attention to his climbing, but rather involved in talk amongst themselves. I glance over, and see Luke back on the ground (too soon to have already summited the rock) and slowly rubbing his shoulder. He must have fallen, though, given the time elapsed, not from too high. I am now going to climb this route. I approach the slight incline of rock right before the face and see the shorter, pudgy man with thinning blonde hair who is to be belaying me. I am not entirely sure if he is attached to the rope or not. We exchange a few customary pre-ascension words, in which I relay my unease about soloing this due to my hiatus from climbing. We decide on me just clipping into every draw (with no rope attached to me). I imagine and contemplate the distance between draws that I could not cross if I were clipped into a draw. Nevertheless, I begin to grip the overly chalked starting holds: a small sidepull and a small, knobby pinch, both on the ride side of the arête. As I lift my right foot up to the small foothold, it causes an imbalance that makes my mass begin to swing away from the wall. Someone tells me to use the hold around the corner instead, and I do, diminishing the imbalance. I can now establish myself, and am ready to climb.