I took a trip to Eastern Oregon University with a friend of mine when I was in college.
We decided to go camping and rock climbing along with a bunch of her friends.
We all packed up our cars and took off to the Mountains – Mount Emily, I believe.
I’d never rock climbed before and, as it turns out, instead of rock CLIMBING I was learning to RAPPELL.
It’s what you do when you go DOWN the mountain at a generally fast rate of speed.
I hiked to the top of the mountain, stood precariously on the cliff as I got harnessed in. . .
. . . and I began to rappel down the mountain.
Not so bad.
All of a sudden I felt a hard tug at my head.
I stopped my descent immediately.
My long, free-flowing hair had gotten caught in the 8-ring.
The guys never thought to warn me about my hair because they all had short hair and it never occurred to them that it could cause a problem.
I quickly assessed that if I descended any further, I’d get scalped, at least partially.
So as I dangled on the side of a mountain, I held myself in place with one hand and I ripped out my hair with the other hand.
Meanwhile, one rock climber was harnessing up to decend on top of me to help while another climber was getting ready to scale the mountain to get to me to help.
I told them to stay and just give me time.
It seemed like it took forever to rip out that chunk of hair, but I did it.
As it turns out, the camping trip was somewhat doomed for me.
Not only did I rip out my hair, but I also got norovirus during my last day there.
You try having norovirus while camping.
It’s not pretty.
Actual pics from the trip:
Bottom right: me getting my hair stuck in the 8-ring!
Me with Eric Howard, who I crushed on all weekend.
Taking a break from ripping out my hair to flip off my friend Shannon, taking the picture.