My dad wishes I didn't climb. For one thing, he’s afraid of
heights; so much so that walking three flights up a fire tower makes
him nauseous, so scaling cliffs seems unfathomably frightening. For another, he’s never tried it,
not even in a gym. He doesn’t understand the melding of strength, balance and
focus required to send a route. He only knows that some people climb without
ropes and some of them die, and some other people who do climb with ropes die
too. For him, climbing is an unnecessary risk taken to get to the top of
something via the most difficult route; utter senselessness.
Walking through Pawtuckaway State Park last fall. Photo by Sarah Kremer. |
My dad and stepmom asked me recently if I though climbing was “just a phase” in my life, like when all I eat for breakfast is Honey Almond Kashi cereal for a month and then switch to only eating eggs and toast for breakfast the next.
I explained that climbing is not in fact “just a phase,” and
I’ll probably have gear on my Christmas wish lists for many years to come. They then asked why I like it so much. That was a stumper.
How does one explain to someone who has never climbed the
feeling of pulling oneself up a cliff? Or a boulder? Or even just the difference between trad
climbing, sport climbing and toproping without the other person beginning to daydream?
The question did get me thinking about why I climb, especially since they were both staring at me expecting a quick, well-reasoned answer. It’s
certainly not just for the exercise; there are much less stressful ways to tone
your arms than leading a run-out 5.11. It’s not for an adrenaline rush
either—the most common reason non-climbers think the rest of us climb—that
means I’m doing something wrong or am overly frightened. I try to avoid both.
Sometimes I want to unlock the
puzzle of onsighting a route, discovering the best holds and working out the easiest line up a
section of rock. Other times, I need the focus required for
leading at my limit; I cannot worry about finding six sources for my next article for class if I’m trying to not fall off a cliff. There are also times when I just
want to have fun, chatting my way up easy routes or toproping routes I probably could lead, but will appreciate more without fear of falling preventing me from enjoying the movement on my first time up. Other days I don’t feel like pulling on plastic in the gym, but I
still top out a few boulder problems because I want to get stronger and smoother for my next time outside.
For me, the best parts of climbing are the focus required
to send, the movement on the rock and the climbing community. Realizing I’ve
thought of nothing but moving from one hold to another from the time I left the
ground to clipping the chains is the closest to meditating I’ve gotten; I
return to the ground balanced, more relaxed and, occasionally, excited. As for
movement, who doesn’t love the feeling of jumping to a jug and sticking, back
arching and legs flinging backward to hold the swing? Or the magical moment when
you hit a crimp, begin to barn-door and then remain on the wall, surprising
yourself? And then there's the climbing community: the most friendly, accepting individuals I
know. Despite often being the least experienced climber in the group, no one has ever said, “No Liz, I’d really
rather you didn’t come and struggle on my warm-up,” or “No, I don’t feel like
letting you toprope the route I just sent.”
Climbing is a mental and physical challenge. You need
to figure out the moves, remembering the correct hand and foot sequences and how
to twist your body between them to minimize energy expenditure to link
them perfectly and send. You must fight your fear of falling, pushing the idea out of your
mind so you can fully commit to each move. You have to maintain good form and
smooth movement even when you’re exhausted. But you get to celebrate, or at
least feel some sense of accomplishment, each time you clip the chains or stand
on top of a boulder.
So why do I climb rocks? It’s a lot of things, a
different reason every time I go out, and probably many more reasons that I’ve
yet to realize. But what I do know is: not rock climbing isn’t an option.
Ahhh....now I get it! ;-) Beautifully written, Liz! And you're right - your dad and I will probably never fully understand the appeal, but we certainly support you and are proud of all you're doing. Reading what you've written certainly gives us a little taste of what the climbing experience is for you!
ReplyDeleteLove it, thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeleteThis is always such a difficult question, as I have trouble fully understanding it myself. I agree with your description of "returning to the ground balanced." Such purity. Not to be cliché, but I find that the convergence of mind-body-spirit takes me to a true state of nature and being; For me, it's a reminder of the essence of life; having this understanding will move the world is positive directions. It provides insights for how we can live with sincerity and gratitude; how we can grow and give.
I think this is why I climb. It's just being, moving, clipping, climbing. That's it. The purity is difficult to convey, but when you get it, it's real.