Some experiences are not about complete sentences. When you watch the 13 minutes of insane magic in “Towers of the Ennedi,” it can’t be about knowing what these guys’ lives are. How can you know them just because someone added film art to the mix? It is a swirled combination of metaphor and fact. It is dedicated play. The connection to extreme adventure comes closer to making sense using snatches of words and phrases.
Bone. Beetle. Sun. Camels. The Ennedi Desert. 500 roadless miles. Remote, even for Chad in central Africa. Dust. Broken car parts. Sand. Pushing. When already? Tents. Stars. Spires of rock. Pictographs. Oil paintings. First Ascents. Synnott, age 40. Honnold and Pearson in their twenties. A balance found in crazy, risky trips. Dicey rock. Better than expected rock. Solo ascents. Pairings. Three tops. Quick. Slow. Another. Another. Hundreds of feet down. 360 degrees around. Arches. THE arch, the delicate arch. A lifetime of rock to climb.
They peppered a rockatecture, remote desert oasis with firsts. Sure, our lives are sleepy by comparison, but watching “Towers of the Ennedi” sparks the synapses of vicarious dreams.
