Wisconsin Parkour

            Sunday was mercifully overcast, and slightly cooler than Saturday.  The group slowly trickled in as they found their way to the park, about 40 miles outside of Madison.  We had reserved a picnic shelter as our base of operations, and for an evening barbeque to which we could look forward.  The setting was beautiful.  The lake itself is surrounded by bluffs which were covered in green, punctuated by gray cliffs rising out of the trees (one of the best rock climbing areas in Wisconsin).

            Once everyone had assembled, Yao led the group to a sand volleyball court, where we warmed up barefoot, of course.  With two days of training behind us already, it felt good to stretch and get our muscles moving again.  Then Yao turned up the heat, ensuring that we would be nice and toasty, with an intense sequence of QM in the sand.  Meanwhile, Blane and Dom entertained themselves by hopping around in a big pine tree nearby, which offered some daunting precisions.

            Eventually, Yao deemed us warmed and we headed back to the picnic shelter, where Blane and Dom led some rolling drills.  Half of the group worked on form, using rolls on concrete to bring flaws in technique to light, then returning to the grass to work them out.  The other half paired up and worked on rolling in any direction, one person responding to their partner pushing them in a direction to roll.  This was first done with eyes open, but then without the benefit of sight, so the person rolling had to be extremely aware and responsive. 

Finally, we headed for the hiking trails, but first making a stop at some railroad tracks for further exercises.  Yao had us doing precisions on the rails.  Blane instructed us to pick up large rocks and then walk along the rail.  This was important because someday we may have to rescue a baby (a very heavy baby) and balance while bringing it to safety.  Only a few people dropped their stony charge.  Dom used us as human obstacles.  Half of a group would do a plank across the rails, leaving one railroad tie between each person, effectively creating a row of things to jump for the other half of the group.  They'd jump their companions three times, then switch places; the obstacles becoming the jumpers and vice versa.

            Our fun on the rails completed for the time being, the cliffs and boulder fields called to us.  After a quick chat about etiquette around climbers, since we would most likely encounter some, the trek up the trail began in earnest.  Just then, it began to rain, making the already smooth rocks rather treacherous.  Naturally, we checked our surfaces.  Furthermore, the buddy system was invoked, and a 1000 muscle-up penalty instituted if you lost your buddy.  We stayed close.

            Due to our supremely warmed-up leg muscles, everyone made it to the top of the trail.  We broke for lunch at a beautiful spot overlooking the lake, watching the periodic bird of prey fly below us.

            Sustenance consumed, it was time to go again.  Yao set a loop through the woods, over rocks and around trees, as a warm-up.  The rain had ceased during most of lunch, but had showered again, so everything was wet, forcing us to be extra aware of our footing.  After several variations of the route (both directions) in front of an audience of resting climbers and hikers, we headed off on the trail to find the absent Dom and Blane.  We found them at a popular bouldering area a good pace down the trail, where small boulders abounded, and some little cliffs made a good spot for training. 

The rain had picked up again, so we set our bags under overhangs, next to our photographers, and fell in line to follow Blane.  The game was follow the leader.  The goal was stealth.  A tap on the shoulder from your neighbor would indicate that you were being too noisy.  The rules established, we set off, quiet but for the occasional sound of a landing, or the sliding of a foot on the damp stones.  By this point, the rain didn't matter because we had all given up any illusions of staying dry, so it became a training tool, teaching us how to move on surfaces that were much more fickle than usual.  We had to be confident of every step and be completely balanced for every landing.  The line of people snaked through the rocks, out to the edge of the cliffs, then back again.  As Blane led us up one of the smaller cliffs, tricky enough that the person at the top would wait to offer assistance to their neighbor if it was needed, it started to pour.  The only sound was the rain, for it masked the little sounds of our passing.  We became as ghosts, slipping through the trees silently in the muted light, covered by the chorus from the opened heavens.  Those moments had an otherworldly feel, so far from any blandness of normalcy; out in the woods, following friends from near and far over wild terrain, soaked to the bone but not caring, serenaded by the rain.