Camp 4 by Julia Shuruyeva
I opened my eyes, but it was still dark. I heard snoring and loud breathing all around me. As I looked around, I saw all of Alpina scattered around the van, asleep. My eyes dwelled on my headphones. After about two minutes of remembering what they did, I decided to listen to my DDT cd that was in my CD player. My eyes closed yet again, but I had trouble falling back asleep. I decided to take in the scenery. It was just before dawn, so it was considerable light outside. I saw rocks upon rocks, towering over us. Then, something caught my eye... some smoke. I looked in that general direction and saw a whole settlement of tents with a little wooden booth right in front of them.
"So this is the famous Camp 4, huh?"
I heard movement all around me... Alpina was waking up. As I saw Sam Watts emerge from his "bed" under the seat, and Eric moving some of the backpacks he was covered with, my dad sleepily mumbled directions for us to go and wait outside the booth so that we could get a spot to camp at. Anya, Joe and I rolled out the van and stumbled over the cold rock, clutching our clothes against us. Who knew California could be so cold?
We sat there for a long time, switching shifts every 15 minutes or so, when we saw an orange streak growing along the top of the huge wall that towered over the camp. I gratefully watched the sunrise, waiting for the sun to start warming everything. When everything was dripping with light, I still felt obnoxiously cold. I realized that hoping for warmth would not quicken the sun's daily routine.
Suddenly, a green, weather-beaten truck rushed into the parking lot. A young ranger got out and proceeded to the little wooden booth. Finally, we were able to check in to Camp 4. Everyone took out their high school IDs, except for me. All I had was my Green Card, which had a picture of my 6 year old self. Once checked in, we lugged our stuff to our assigned areas. The tent that my dad, Anya and I slept in was isolated from the two Alpina tents, and the food storage area.
As we set up camp, I took the liberty of observing other Camp 4 residents. Most of them were temporary, but some were there permanently, hiding from the rangers that were threatening to kick them out. Most of the people there were climbers, and you could tell. Their gear was piled sky-high, sorted into categories: cams, slings, ropes, etc. Some climbers just preferred to throw all of their gear in a huge pile and worry about the sorting right before their climb. Since it was still morning, they were either getting ready to climb or gone.
Once we finished setting up camp, everyone got ready to climb and headed over to some slabs that were about ten minutes away from the campground. Unfortunately, we were caught in a very sunny spot, which was all too hot. Anya and I were climbing together, and we both felt like the sun was on a mission to get us dehydrated. After we all finished climbing the cracks and friction slabs, the group headed back to camp.
By now, most of the climbers had retuned and were starting their campfires and working on the slackline. I gave the slackline a try, but didn't get past the first 4 steps. It was a great deal tighter than what I was used to. Joe also had the same reult, but he actually made progress as time passed.
When it was dark, there were many informal parties going on in the campground, and an occasional bear was being chased away. My eyes were beginning to droop, and I knew that if I was to succeed tomorrow on my first milti-pitch at Yosemite, I would have to get to bed early. I waved to everyone and stumbled off to my tent to get a long rest. About five mintues of listening to They Might Be Giants, I drifted off to sleep
