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. 

Follow the leader sadly had to end, and as it did, the rain slackened.  We divided into two groups again, half going with Dom and the rest with Blane.  Dom's group went to the small cliffs and worked on rock climbing, taking one of a few different routes of varying difficulties up the face.  We each made a few trips up the rocks, challenging both our bodies and guts, after which Dom led us out to the edge of the big cliffs.  There, we worked a small route, focusing on small landings to practice sticking it even when the rock was slippery.  It was admittedly spooky, but great practice.

Blane had set a small route that looped through the trees and a few partially submerged boulders and then skirted the edge of a small cliff, going over and then back under a tree branch that hung low over the rocks at the top of the precipice.  We started slowly, familiarizing ourselves with the route and deciding how to overcome its obstacles.  Then, it was time for speed.  Since we now knew what was coming, the goal was to do the route at full speed without stopping.  It was a challenging exercise.  Beyond the wet conditions, the natural terrain was very different than the usual urban training environments of parkour.  It made us move in different ways to adapt to the undomesticated landscape.  

The time had come to head back down the trail and make our way to "base".  Somewhat regretfully, we began the hike that wound down through the cliffs and snaked over the boulder fields; the "steps" being rocks cemented together into a rocky stairway twisting towards the trees.

            We made one more stop at the railroad tracks, since Dom seems to love doing planks while waiting for the train.  We held our plank for a count of ten, a la Dom.  However, I think there must be something wrong with numbers over in London because each time one of the PK Gen guys counts to ten, it gets longer.  I'm not sure how that works, but it's true.

Post planking, Dom led the soaked and grimy group over to an open spot, where we fell off picnic tables onto the arms of our companions, who worked on their "touch" at the same time by having some give when catching, rather than holding rock-steady and giving their friends whiplash.  After we'd each had a go, we spread out in the open area for further instructions.  The next exercise was simple.  We were to do constant movement for one minute (anything goes) as slowly as possible, followed immediately by another minute of the thing, but moving as quickly as possible.  Given our long day already, this was more tiring than anticipated.  For the last repetition, Dom had us close our eyes, meaning we had to listen closely to avoid crashing into those near us who were also moving with vigor.

            Finally, it was time for the cool-down.  After some abdominal work including a plethora of different crunches and leg raises, we did some stretching.  For the first time that day, the sun peeked through the sun, making the water droplets on the glass glitter and cheering our weary company.  We could also hear and smell the burgers and brats being cooked nearby on the grill, awaiting us once we had finished stretching.

            With stretching completed and the day applauded, we made our way to a much-anticipated dinner, where we wolfed down an enormous amount of food and enjoyed the company of those who had just shared an incredible experience.  After dinner, people began to head for home, some with longer drives than others.  A valiant effort was undertaken to teach the Europeans how to throw an American football, and I think all three guys eventually threw a spiral.  This quickly evolved into a game of catch into which another ball was added every few minutes, eventually having 4 balls and a Frisbee flying around at the same time.  As the sun was setting, most of the remaining folks made their way to the lake for a dip in the surprisingly warm water.  Following the aquatic fun, we cleaned up the shelter and tried to make peace with the fact that the weekend had come to a close.  Heart-felt goodbyes were exchanged, softened by promises that we would surely meet again. 

            On the way home, it struck me how incredible it was that though I see most of these people very infrequently, and have known them for only a short time, there is a very real and powerful bond.  Perhaps it has to do with the kind of people who are attracted to parkour.  Perhaps it is because we spent hours pushing ourselves through severe workouts in brutal heat, shedding blood (yep), sweat (more than I thought possible), and maybe even some tears together.  I think it is these reasons and more.  My hope is that we take that community, that magic, and keep it growing strong so that it can be shared and cherished.  It's safe to say that the Jubilee was a rousing success.  


Thank you, Jonathan, for being our guest blogger! It was a perfect description of a perfect day!