december thirty-first twenty ten

A few days ago, on my way home from work, I tuned my radio to NPR in order to catch the tail end of From The Top, a program that showcases a different set of young, brilliant musicians each week. I've always taken great interest in the show, but this particular episode was exceptionally remarkable.

The program featured 10-year old trumpet player Natalie Dungey from Issaquah, WA. What I found more striking than her performance (the gravity of which I cannot convey) was her incredibly guided resolve to excel in her craft. To hear such a young person speak with such conviction is as refreshing as it is rare.

To hear people my age speak with such conviction is rare.

When asked how her age has influenced her sensibilities as a musician, she responded by saying, "It doesn't matter how old you are, it matters how hard you work." I think that's something to think about as we round the bend into twenty-eleven.

Photo by Dane Iwata

So, that in mind, let's switch gears. As people often do during the days leading up to the New Year, we find ourselves finalizing plans with friends, pinning down improbable resolutions for the year to come, and reflecting on the year that has passed. I personally hate year-end reviews and new year's resolutions, so I won't subject anyone to a recap of the last 365 days of my life or my outlook for the next 365.

For most, the New Year seems to be the most logical place to make a clean break. A blank canvas is home to endless potential and incredible opportunities. And that sounds good, right? But the reality is that in life there is no so such thing as a clean break. The calendar year is a human invention after all; it's a tangible way to record and measure time. But time passes regardless of how we decide to measure it, so why wait for the New Year to elicit personal change? 

To be clear, I'm not asserting that having the resolve to affect change in one's life is a bad thing; I'm simply suggesting that we re-evaluate our motivations for seeking such a change. These campaigns for personal growth should be made because we truly want what's best for us, and not because we feel obligated to "commit" to a New Year's resolution that will most probably be abandoned by the next commercially driven holiday (Valentine's Day).

So when you find yourself penning your resolutions on paper (as if that would some how solidify the contract you've drawn up in your head), or when you find yourself sifting through your back log of excuses in order to get away from those very same resolutions, keep Natalie in mind. Work hard because you truly want something. And if you truly want something, take the reigns.

See you in 2011.

let's take slow steps

Since my last post, I've been doing my best to switch gears. After several months of living the renegade lifestyle, it's time to buckle down. I was able to find work part-time, but my search for an internship has yet to yield a favorable result. I've also made my peace with climbing in the gym, and I've starting pulling plastic on the regular. In addition to getting paid and stacking paper, I've been spending a fair amount of time in the library. It's become a kind of sanctuary- a place to get some personal work done without the usual distractions. It may not be the most exciting series of developments, but I feel fortunate to have some normalcy in my life after enduring a year plagued by misfortune and uncertainty.

The recent cold snap and unexpected snow fall have all but guaranteed that climbing in Southern Illinois will not be an option for quite a while. So that's the new struggle- finding ways to stay motivated and building momentum for the following year. Warmer weather is still months away, and that's a tough pill to swallow.

Until then, I've started the process of drafting my goals for 2011. This time around my goals aren't as concrete as they have been in the past. Rather than setting goals based on a numerical progression, I've decided that it would be best for me to round out my skill sets as a climber by exploring new destinations and new disciplines. Such a move may force me to scale back expectations, but I'm willing to check my ego for the sake of personal growth. That being said, I'm hoping to make a push for Rumney, New Hampshire and The New River Gorge in West Virginia this Spring. From what I've been told, both areas seem to have incredibly specific styles that rely on power and a technical prowess; I look forward to the challenge

My secondary goal is to make my way west for the summer. I would like to put some hours in Rifle, Colorado and Ten Sleep, Wyoming. I've heard amazing things about Ten Sleep, but I haven't ventured to Wyoming since February of this year. With the right running crew, I'd like to see that change.

In addition to switching up the yearly circuit, I've decided to finally pull the trigger and address my major weak link as a climber: strength. I'm still very much aware of my chronic battle with elbow tendonitis (one that kept me out of the game from Fall 2008 to Fall 2009), but I'm growing tired of allowing it to stunt my progression despite diligent and calculated efforts to keep it at bay. I've spent the last few weeks in the gym building a base (read: bouldering) in an attempt to prepare for my training schedule for the first quarter of the year. I've set aside two months within my plan to allow my body to acclimate to these new stress levels. Once I've adapted, my hope is that I will be able to increase volume and intensity with the overall goal being to begin sport specific training by mid-January.

Staying motivated under the circumstances is difficult, but I think setting goals and supplementing your personal climbing experience with specific literature, videos, events, etc. are key to surviving the winter. Luckily, we've been fortunate enough to have several recent releases to keep us pulling plastic and suffering in the gym until the weather breaks. 2011 is around the corner- what are you doing to keep good vibes on high?

www.iclimb.com

the wrap up

With the season drawing to a close, opportunities to climb are few and far between. Other than a few visits to Jackson Falls, I've been doing most of my climbing in the gym. No complaints here though- I needed a break, and the colder weather has proven itself to be an effective deterrent. I'm hoping to take this time to address a few concerns I've had regarding my well being, my future, and the role that climbing plays in my life. I've been questioning my dimensionality as a human being recently, and I think I’d like to see things change. While my pursuit of self improvement hasn't been mapped out, I'm hoping that as I begin to tackle each issue individually, solutions to my other concerns will begin to transpire. 

The transition between climbing full time and settling in at home has been challenging, but not for any of the reasons that may seem obvious. The problems that have been patiently waiting for me since I left earlier this year are beginning to recapture my attention. With no strong convictions to return to the university and no long-term vocational prospects, I find myself with a great deal of free time. As a result, my mind wanders and I've become reacquainted with some old demons. I'm not really sure how to handle this new development- sometimes I feel optimistic about finding a new path, but mostly I just worry. In a lot of ways I still feel much like I did back in March, but at least this time around I'm able to keep the crippling depression and loneliness at bay. Perhaps not the healthiest way to deal, but it's difficult to talk about the same problems with the same people. No one wants to hear a broken record, myself included. So I'm doing my best, even though it may not appear that way on the surface.

 

I don't really feel sorry for myself, as much as I just feel disappointed- discouraged even. Things had been going so well for so long; was I naive to think that things would continue that way? I don’t know- at least I’m able to stand on two feet again. It's difficult to deal with so many intangible crises at once, so I suppose all I can do is reevaluate my circumstances and hope that things will eventually turn around. Oddly enough, I've done my best to remove the word "hope" from my vocabulary until now. It's not that I consider "hope" to be a four letter word, nor do I scoff at its usage, but I've often thought that hope alone does little to effect change. More often than not, a strong will is what influences the various shifts that occur in our lives.

I suppose that's part of what draws me to climbing. I've been able to carve the path my climbing career has taken by working hard, applying myself, and doing my best to control the variables that influence success. I’ve never hoped to become a better climber. I've never hoped to send my projects. It’s important to take responsibility- to will the desired outcome. This methodology seemed to work this season; it was the best I've had during my four year career. Unfortunately, I can't apply this approach to my current state of affairs. Hard work doesn't always pay off. So, faced with fewer answers and options than I expected to have at this point, I find myself dusting off the word, reintroducing it into my lexicon, and hoping for the best.

While I continue my search for the missing puzzle pieces, I'll spend what time I have pursuing the advancement of my personal climbing career. There are plenty of disparities in my climbing repertoire, and I look forward to addressing them head on. I haven't properly trained in a gym since last winter, and I'm eager to see what a focused routine can do. Besides, exercise can do wonders for your self esteem- right?

On an unrelated note: after spending three weeks in Kentucky this Fall, it occurred to me how incredibly lucky we are to have access to such an amazing destination. The sheer volume of five-star climbs at the Red is unparalleled, and the potential for further development is staggering. If you've spent any time in the Pendergrass-Murray Recreational Preserve(PMRP) or Muir Valley, please donate to those who make climbing in these amazing sectors possible. We've all paid for gym memberships without questioning the price, but how many of us have donated to keep our cliffs open? I think we're in danger of taking our access for granted. It's important to remember that we're not entitled to climb at places like the Red River Gorge. We simply have the good fortune of living in a world where motivated, passionate people are willing to invest their time and energy into acquiring/developing these amazing cliffs. So next time you're out at the crag or planning a trip, think about how much access is worth to you.

  

Finally, I’ll admit I do a poor job of updating the blog. I’ve apologized numerous times, but have yet to deliver. Most of the time I just assume no one is reading, but perhaps my new circumstance will allow me to post more frequently. Not sure how that will influence the content, but why worry? We'll just see how it goes.

Thanks for reading.
 

The Wrap Up
Kaleidoscope (5.13c-)
Elephant Man (5.13b)
Flour Power (5.13b)
Hoofmaker (5.13a)
Mind Meld (5.12d, second go)
Team Wilson (5.12d+, onsight)
Harvest (5.12d, second go)
Flux Capacitor (5.12d, second go)
Tuna Town (5.12c, onsight)
Hot For Teacher (5.12c, second go)
Resurrection (5.12c+, onsight)
The Sauce (5.12b, second go)
The Low Easy One (5.12b, onsight)
Rocket Dog (5.12b, onsight)
Sluts Are Cool (5.12a, onsight)
Morning Wood (5.12a, onsight)
Evening Wood (5.12a, onsight)
Kick Me In The Jimmie (5.12a, onsight)
Burlier's Bane (5.12a, onsight)
Ethics Police (5.11d, onsight)

slow and low

Last week I decided to end my season in the Red River Gorge by returning to an open ended project. Ever since I left the Gorge this Spring I've been looking forward to getting back on Kaleidoscope-  a spectacular route that ascends the overhanging arête at the far end of Drive-By Crag. In addition to being visually stunning, the route climbs incredibly well. Punchy, committing, and no fluff- altogether a very sustained route with only one rest near the half-way mark.

A predictable and an uninspired first attempt on Kaleidoscope gave way to a much more successful second go- one in which I was able to link through the crux on point. Needless to say, I was quite pleased with myself...until I realized that I had failed to pin down an effective exit strategy. When I tried the route earlier this year I was convinced that I would have no trouble reaching the chains after executing the route's crux (a long accuracy move to a hidden slot). It became abundantly clear, almost immediately, that I was terribly wrong. I found myself scrambling to stitch the last few moves together, but my desperate gambit proved unsuccessful. Regardless, I was happy with the day's progress and felt relatively confident that the route would go quickly.

An impromptu rest day slowed things down a bit, but the following day I returned to Drive-By for another go. On my preliminary attempt I was able dial in a method for the upper section. I took a short break, tied back in, and pulled on for the red-point. I punched through the first half of the route and reached the route's only proper rest in good spirits. I took this opportunity to both collect myself, and to contemplate what to do about the last two bolts.

Due to the aggressive nature of the second half, people unwillingly clip the second to last bolt (a bit dodgy) in order to make skipping the last bolt safe. Being no stranger to skipping bolts, this wasn't much of a problem. In fact, on my previous attempt I was able to clip the second to last bolt with relative ease. This time, however, I made a decision on the fly to skip the last two bolts. I really didn't want to fumble with a difficult clip; I thought it could potentially jeopardize my red-point attempt. I'm not really sure how I arrived at that conclusion, but I did and I committed myself to the plan. So, having purged the pump, I fired through the route's crux and began to tackle the forearm melting run to the chains.

Photo by Jon LaValley

Unfortunately, after pulling through the opening moves of the red-point crux, I found myself handcuffed- one move away from the short sequence of positive holds that would lead me to the anchors. I wasn't pumped. I wasn't scared. I was simply incapable of moving. Not at all capable of generating motion of any kind. I couldn't move. At all.
 
I was pinned between a slim chance of success and almost certain failure- 15 feet away from the last bolt I had clipped, and only a few feet from the chains. I was all but guaranteed to take a spectacular ride. As I shuffled my feet in order to make a move, I could see the rope swaying gently below me. This had never actually happened to me before. I can't recall a single time where I was unable to execute on point after skipping bolts. Not so great for the game face. 

And so, as you might have expected, I eventually pitched trying to make a move for the illusive pocket. I caught a lot of air- enough to consider and then reconsider my angle of entry multiple times. Despite a swollen ankle and a jacked up knee I was fine. I climbed back up the rope, finished the route (this time having clipped the second to last bolt), and lowered. After I untied I decided to retire for the day. Not really rattled, just disappointed. I thought it would be in my best interest to give the project a rest in favor of pursuing other ventures. I was also fairly concerned that I may have significantly impaired my mobility, and I was eager to get a hold of an ice pack.

Photo by David Pendon

Subsequent days were spent at Midnight Surf, The Solarium, and The Dark Side. While I had no particular expectations at Midnight Surf or The Solarium, The Dark Side did house my secondary objectives for the week- Mind Meld (5.12d) and The Return of Darth Moll (5.13b/c). After warming up on the nearby Padawan Wall, I began my session with an on-sight attempt of Mind Meld, a route with a reputation for being difficult for the grade. I was able make it through the opening boulder problem and the deceptive band of pockets that perforates the lower half of the cliff with relative ease, but got powered down trying to get through the last series of long pulls. After a short break I was able to send the route second go. I highly recommend it if you're into powerful pocket pulling and proper fitness climbing. 

After settling down from my recent conquest, I tied back in and gave The Return of Darth Moll a burn. Verdict: This route is savage- really powerful moves followed by burly fitness-based climbing. Similar in style to Elephant Man, but far more sustained and significantly cruxier. Just another reason why the Dark Side is my favorite cliff at the Red! As psyched as I was to make links, I decided to forgo a second attempt on the route. Somewhere along the line I had misplaced a considerable amount of skin. I knew that another attempt would only result in a greater loss. So, I packed my things and finished the day at Solar Collector with an exciting, try-hard on-sight of Ethics Police (5.11d).

With my visit coming to an end, I was faced with some difficult decisions. My session at The Dark Side destroyed my skin and I still lacked full mobility since my epic drop on Kaleidoscope. In order to put in worthwhile attempts on the project, I would have to forfeit two days of climbing. I knew my chances of putting Kaleidoscope together would be low if I didn't allow my skin to grow back, and taking the low road (climbing more days and racking up more pitches) didn't excite me as much as punching in for the send. The forecast for the remainder of the week was another hurdle. It appeared that there would be a slight chance of rain on game day. But I decided to gamble. I figured that I had come back to Kentucky for one route, and to walk away from it just because of a few obstacles seemed like a chump move. So I went to bed, relatively confident that I had made the right decision.

I awoke the next morning to gray skies, steady rain, and a dense mist hanging in the air. I was, of course, worried. I did my best to keep my head straight and spirits high, but I couldn't shake the thought that I had screwed myself. With that much rain fall I was unsure if the route would be dry. But not being one to roll over, I ran up to the cliff any way. A visual inspection suggested that the wall had picked up some moisture. After sampling the first few moves on Kaleidoscope, I began polling the other PMRP patrons (including a few who had been on Kaleidoscope). To my surprise, the consensus was that the climbing conditions were fine- unencumbered by the precipitation. It didn't make any sense to me, but I didn't want to waste time speculating.

I decided to warm up on the route and fell low on the route's first crux- a long move from improbable sloper to a sloping edge. After reaching the anchors I was confident that the route would go. The conditions were remarkably good, and my method for the upper bit checked out. My second attempt brought me painstakingly close the anchors- falling off the last questionable hold before the route opens up. I was able to reach to the summit on my third try, and while it was an anti-climactic end to an otherwise bizarre week of obstacles, I was relieved to have this project in the books.

Whitney Boland, Kaleidoscope 5.13c

Video by Mike Call

Now I'm back in Illinois- recovering and resetting. While I probably won't be back to take care of Golden Boy (5.13b), The Madness (5.13c), or Darth Moll (5.13b/c), I'm oddly okay with that- relieved even. As of late, I've found the process of projecting to be quite stressful. Walking the line that divides success and abject failure is something I've done with relative ease until recently. I've spent the last nine months traveling and climbing, and as great as the experience has been, I think I'm ready to for a break. I need to lay low, get my mind right. Don't get me wrong- I'm happy with the progress I've made, but I'm ready for a change. Sometimes priorities need to change, and sometimes you want them to change. I'll certainly continue climbing, but perhaps this time with no goals, no expectations, no stress- just back to basics.

back in the saddle

Last week I found myself back in Beattyville battling erratic conditions, a challenging to-do list, and some unforeseen domestic issues. Yikes! As you might have expected, things kicked off at the Motherlode. Predictable? Sure. Do I mind being predictable? Not really.

A new project was in the queue and the pragmatist in me decided to forfeit my "on-sight" attempt on The Madness (5.13c) in favor of doing some multi-pitch bouldering instead (I do enjoy an honest on-sight, but I'm not delusional). After two fact finding missions, my third overall attempt resulted in big links. I was able to make it through the majority of the steep section before bobbling the exit crux- a long move to and off of a sloping crimp. From there I was able to make it to the poor rest that guards the last 30 feet of climbing- which also happens to be the most difficult section.

Before I tied in, I was able to talk shop with a friend of mine who was also working the route. We both came to the conclusion that serious red-point attempts would require skipping the last two bolts before the anchor. The climbing in the upper fourth gets serious, and stopping to clip bolts would most likely jeopardize a successful summit. The last 30 feet of climbing begins with a crimpy boulder problem that features a difficult lock-off in order to gain a sparsely featured sloping beach, and ends with long pulls between flat, half to full pad crimps.

Rather than risking a big whip (I was no longer on-point, after all), I opted for the no hands rest and hung on the rope. If I fell, I would have no way to get back on, and consequently, I wouldn't be able to beta check my method for the upper fourth of the route. After catching my breath, I punched through the crux, skipped the bolts, and clipped the anchors.

Feeling satisfied with my progress, I ended the day with a second go send of Hot for Teacher (5.12c). An embarrassing on-sight attempt earlier in the day found me on the wrong side of a 50/50 shot at the chains. I tried to rectify my mistake by down climbing and attempting to execute the right sequence, but it was too late. I had totally hosed myself. Completely sauced, I made what must have appeared to be the most pathetic slap at the final hold. It was more of a wave really, as if to say "good-bye" to an otherwise flawless on-sight. Oh well. As nice as it would have been to get this route right off the bat, I certainly didn't mind giving it another go. Despite what the guidebook may lead you to believe, Hot for Teacher is quite possibly the best of the grade in the Red- definitely my new favorite. If you get a chance, check it out.

 Photo By Robert Smith

The days to follow saw a radical turn in the weather. Gray skies, tornado warnings, and an unexpected spike in humidity forced us to temporarily abandon our projects. Things were slowing down and motivation was low. But rather than calling it quits, a clutch decision was made to scale back expectations until better weather resurfaced. Seizing the poor conditions as an opportunity to add some diversity to our climbing routine, my good friend Robert Smith took the reigns and set the agenda. Neither of us had climbed the recently revived Beer Trailer Crag, and we decided to do some reconnaissance. We spent most of the day at the main wall where I was able to on-sight three 5.12a's. I generally prefer longer routes, and even though these climbs were short, I definitely enjoyed them. Big moves, big holds- what's not to like? Once we finished sampling some of the older routes, we made our way over to the newly bolted wall where I managed to botch the on-sight of The Hang Over (5.12c)- an amazing, sustained route with a short, but proper crux halfway through the climb. I can't wait to try it again!

Despite the gloomy and potentially dangerous weather, it turned out to be a good day. It was nice to take a break from the usual routine and to spend the day just climbing- no pressure, no plans, no expectations. If you haven't been, I highly recommend visiting The Beer Trailer Crag. If things go south, you can always bail and enjoy a drink with the guys down at the Beer Trailer.

Once the weather began to pick back up, I clocked back in and got to work. A visit to the Dark Side was in order, and all available resources were diverted to the project: Elephant Man (5.13b). Short on time, I was forced to leave this particular project undone during my last visit. To say that I was eager to return to the Dark Side would be a gross understatement. Elephant Man is the sickest line I have ever tried, and I wanted it- bad. It's the epitome of precision and power endurance- a style of climbing that I enjoy, but one that I don't particularly excel at. From the ground to the sixth bolt there are no shakes, no places to chalk up, and clipping a few of the bolts is taxing for sure. The only proper rest comes after the first boulder problem. Which happens to be at the first bolt. Not very helpful. I epic-ed for three days trying to link the exit crux into the red-point crux between the fifth and sixth bolt, always succeeding in one hanging the route.

After two close calls, I was able to send the route on my third attempt that day. It was a relief to put this route down- it was a battle for sure. 

Aaron Stover, The Force (5.13a)

Photo By Selene Ma  

I've never put so many burns on a route before, and I think it's fair to say that things got a bit tense on day three. Frustration, disappointment, and self-doubt ran like poison through my veins- definitely not a good place to be if you're trying to red-point. I'm willing to admit that I enjoy dispatching projects quickly, and I suppose my ability to do most things in quick fashion has become a bit of a reputation to live up to. So, to spend so much time on one route definitely put me out of sorts.

That being said, I do realize that you can't be a super hero every day. Disappointment is a part of climbing- that's a reality, but it's important to understand that failure isn't as simple not clipping chains or having an epic burn on the project. I think the word "failure" is only applicable when an individual ends the day without learning something about themselves, their climbing, or even their project. The individuals who can set their emotions aside and learn from a disappointing day at the cliff are the ones that will continue to progress. Even staying committed when things are looking grim and returning to an illusive project over and over again is a true test of character. Resiliency has been a recurring theme this year, and I've learned that pushing through those gray areas demonstrates a capability within an individual to survive, to succeed, and to ultimately excel.

At any rate, the short lived celebration of my recent conquest had manifested itself in a series of high-fives, approving nods, and the obligatory fist bump. As they often do, gears switched quickly (I wouldn't have it any other way). We packed our things and headed back to where we began: the Lode. My friend Sammy was gearing up to put the hurt down on Skin Boat (5.13a), and I felt that it was time to give Tuna Town the on-sight attempt that I had been putting off since Spring. In the end, I was able to successfully on-sight Tuna Town (5.12d). Most probably a bit low in the grade, but a fun climb regardless. I was happy to close the book on the Motherlode with such a notorious route. I suppose it's not entirely fair to say that I am done with the Lode, but the five remaining routes are currently over my head (White Man's Overbite (hard for the grade 5.13c), White Man's Shuffle (hard for the grade 5.13d), Thanatopsis (5.14b), Transworld Depravity (5.14a), and Omaha Beach (5.14a)). Maybe next Fall? Yeah, next Fall.

On the whole, it wasn't a bad week in the office. Luckily, it looks as though the weather will be cooling off, and as always I'm excited to get back to the cliff. Halfway through the season, halfway through the list- very excited for November. The next project in the line-up happens to be one that I left undone this Spring, Kaleidoscope (5.13b/c). Hopefully we get it to go!

 

on to the next one

As it has in the past, the blog has taken a back seat to other priorities. But I'm back, re-energized, and excited to catalog the weeks since the 24 Hour competition. After returning from Arkansas, I spent some time in Southern Illinois and Eastern Kentucky lining up various short-term and long-term projects. 

The season started off with a whimper, not a bang, and a short visit to Southern Illinois left me feeling lukewarm. I'll spare the details, but the bottom line is that the season hasn't made it's appearance in So Ill just yet.

But rather than waiting around for ideal conditions to shore up, I switched gears and made my way to Kentucky- the first time since Labor Day. I spent a week at the Red, and during my visit I got closer to making my long term goal of shutting down the Motherlode a reality. I was able to make some head way on the Undertow Wall with second go red-points of Flux Capacitor (5.12d) and Harvest (5.12d), and on-sights of Resurrection (5.12c) and Team Wilson (5.12d)- both considered by most to be tough for the grade. Now, the only line left on the Undertow is the infamous Tuna Town (5.12d)- a route which I am allegedly saving for a proper on-sight attempt. Knowing that I only have one shot to do it on-sight has me putting it off. I've punted on easier on-sight attempts, so I figure I'll get on it when I feel up to it. The pressure!

 
The rest of my stay was devoted to two projects that I added to the list this Spring, but was unable to try. I began my campaign on the Madness Cave earlier this year with red-points of 40 Ounces of Justice (5.13a) and BOHICA (5.13b). This week I was able to check Flour Power (5.13b) off the list as well. 

As I've written in previous posts, climbing in the cave is taxing. The routes in the cave are 100 feet of relentlessly steep sandstone. More moves means more opportunities to bobble, and, worse yet, more work if you manage to punt near the end of the pitch. To add to the stress, I hadn't really pinned down the final crux on the route- which happens to be 2 bolts from the anchor. I had two conceivable options, neither of which I was looking forward to doing on point. I was faced with either implementing a dodgy hand-heel match that would all but guarantee a stunning wobbler if it cut loose, or a long accuracy move that would have slim chances of success if I was unable to check the vicious barn door. 

Fortunately for me, the day I returned to the Lode for the red-point, Monique Forester and Whitney Boland were working on Flour Power and its extension, Pushing Up Daisies (5.13c). They were able to give me an excellent method for negotiating the final boulder problem, and while I did have reservations about trying a new sequence on the fly, it was clear that the success rate of their approach would be much higher than either of my own. Thanks guys!

I was glad that I put Flour Power down on my first proper red-point attempt. It was a considerable source of stress for me, so to have it done early on in the week gave me some breathing room to jump on my other project at the Dark Side. Elephant Man (5.13b) is a serious bit of rock climbing. While no single boulder problem is harder than another, there happens to be one at every bolt. Up to the 6th bolt (roughly two thirds of the climb). With no rests.  With the worst holds being part of the exit. Awesome. Conditions hadn't quite lined up for this pitch, but I was able to one hang it high despite the unexpected heat that dominated the majority of my stay.  Once things cool off I'll be back to make that last push and clip chains!

Projecting is an intriguing process - to be so invested, maniacally devoted even, to a single thought, to finally make it a reality, and then to walk away from it seems like neurotic behavior, doesn't it? From inception to execution, the process can take days, weeks, sometimes months or even years. Conversely, the act of red-pointing a project only takes a few minutes, and its hold lasts only moments. The feeling of victory, at least for me, is incredibly fleeting. When it's over, I'm left thinking about the next pitch, the next project. Often times the thrill of success only lasts while I'm being lowered from the anchors. As soon as I untie, I'm on to the next one.

It's that intensity, that polarity, that I find so compelling. It's interesting how quickly we forget our successes, and how long we remember our failures. I can't count how many nights I've lost sleep pouring over the moves in my head, suffered from the anxiety that accompanies the thought of failure, or woken up with my hands drenched with sweat. At times it can test your motivation and your resiliency for the sport, but that's part of the process. Finding ways to balance success and failure continues to bring me back- not the numbers, not the notoriety, not the accolades. 

I often think that your status as a climber is dictated not by what you've done, but by what you're doing. Recently I've been feeling a bit washed up. A series of lackluster performances had checked my vitality- hard. So it was nice to rally and turn things around. I had a rough go of it this Summer, and I felt as though I had taken huge steps back in terms of my performance, despite spending months diligently rehabbing my injuries and training my weaknesses. I don't consider myself to be an incredible athlete or a natural talent. I don't have any of the traditional strengths- power, fitness, or technical sensibilities. What little success I've had in these disciplines, I've had to work incredibly hard to achieve. My career has been fueled by failure, and countless hours of suffering at the crag and in the gym. When you put so much time and heart into something it feels good to succeed, but it's bound to feel even worse when you come up short. It is, however, important to shake these moments, to dig deeper, to use them to motivate you, and to inspire personal growth. I think my proclivity for suffering and my relentless drive seem to offset the disparities in my basic, physical attributes as a climber. In part, what makes most climbers perform at their best is having that obsession, that drive.

I'll be heading back to Kentucky soon, hopefully keeping positive vibes on high. On the whole, I'd say that the Fall season has started out well, and I'm excited to get back to the cliff. See you out there.

got 'em

After 24 hours of rock climbing, I'm back and fully recovered. As expected, this year's event was completely out of order. 240 competitors stormed the Horseshoe Canyon Ranch in Jasper, AR and climbed a staggering 11,937 routes.

Eleven thousand,

nine hundred,

thirty seven routes.

Wow.

23 of those individuals joined the Century Club this year by sending a minimum of 100 routes during the 24 hour competition. Shout outs to Alex Honnold who smashed Tommy Caldwell's score, Daniel Schuerch who locked down 160 routes, and Dane Iwata and Marc Chagnon, first time competitors who each climbed 101 pitches. A huge step up from last year- definitely impressed, definitely inspired!

Photo by John Budde

I think the truly amazing thing about this event is that it allows competitors to set new personal goals every year, and there seems to be a definite evolution- from simply wanting to finish, to aiming for big numbers, to exclusively climbing on gear, to gunning for the top 10. The list of possible challenges and their combinations is endless. It's crazy! 24HHH has a versatility that a traditional climbing competition just doesn't have. I suppose the primary goal would be to place top 3, but it's nice to throw out the conventional competitive playbook as it were, and to, instead, construct your own personal goal(s). I often joke that no one actually wins this event (I mean, really- you're essentially suffering for 24 hours), but the reality is that this is the only event where there can be 240 winners. A bit after-school special, I know, but it's refreshing to see such camaraderie, and such genuine congratulatory exchanges between competitors. It's mind blowing how supportive this community is.

The only way I can think to describe the 24 Hours of Horseshoe Hell is that it's like going to war. I apologize if this analogy seems crass or in bad taste, but you're sharing an incredibly unique experience with strangers who quickly become allies and friends. You help carry each other, you're invested in everyone's performance, and you want everyone to make goal- to make it to Sunday morning. And, once it's over, you share a connection, a bond, that no one else can relate to. It's a difficult energy to articulate, but perhaps you'll have to sign up next year to find out!

Photo by Gina Wilmott

Even though we hadn't talked about the competition much (or at all, really), my partner John and I had a clear objective for this year's two-four. We both wanted to climb 100 routes over the course of 24 hours. When we broke it down to the numbers (i.e. how many routes we needed to average per hour, how much time we could spend on a each route to stay on target, etc.), the task seemed daunting- impossible, really. But, the challenge of making the seemingly impossible seem effortless is what draws me to climbing, and I certainly wasn't going to let doubt dictate the outcome of this event.

Now, I'm not much for planning; so scoping out routes beforehand, keeping track of our progress, and watching the clock seemed like too much work for me. Instead, we came to the conclusion that the best strategy was to keep it simple.

We decided to wing it.

Admittedly, the sustainability of the "Can't Stop, Won't Stop" campaign did come into question early on, but it was the only plan we had, so we rolled with it. We also made it a point to not keep track of our progress- we simply updated our scorecard when time permitted. I didn't want us to feel dejected if we were behind, or to relax our pace if we were ahead. I think it's important to never let doubt or hubris dictate the outcome- you have to stay hungry, regardless of how things are transpiring, if you want to succeed. That being said, we hadn't looked at our progress until the halfway point. When we turned in our scorecards at the check-in, we were stoked to see that we were on track. At 10 p.m. we had bagged 50 routes each! Yeah-yuh!

Photo by Scott Fitzgerald

Fueled by the good news and the good vibes that electrified the North 40, we punched the clock. A brief rain shower in the middle of the night gave us a bit of a scare. We were, of course, worried that if the rain continued (or worse, intensified), our chances of making goal would be jeopardized. Fortunately, the rain moved out and when all was said and done, John and I had exceeded our goal (albeit by a small margin). We each climbed 106 routes- 212 total over the course of 24 hours, and we also managed to eke our way into the top 10. Got 'em!

Can't Knock This Hustle

It was a big year for the two four event- I can't thank Andy, his team, the HCR Staff, the volunteers, the sponsors, and, of course, Barry and Amy enough for putting on such an amazing event year, after year. It truly is one of the best climbing events in the country- if not the best. If visiting the Horseshoe Canyon Ranch is part of your Fall season, please make sure to follow the new guidelines. Do your part by picking up trash and paying for your camping/day-use fees. Barry, Amy, Jason, and the crew are nice enough to let us climb on the property, we should reciprocate by respecting their rules!

Thanks for reading, we'll see everyone next year! I can't wait!

Video by Andy Chasteen

time check

This past Saturday marked my first day back in Southern Illinois since March. Admittedly, a visit to Jackson Falls this early on may have been a bit premature, but I was driven by sheer desperation. In the three years that I've been climbing in Illinois, I have never once bothered to visit during the summer. But, weeks of pulling on plastic, and the prospect of spending the day with my friends made my decision an easy one to make. Humidity, the conventional kryptonite, was relatively low, and a session at Railroad Rock made things far more enjoyable as we were able to dodge direct sun-light.

Photo by Alex Gamble, 24HHH 2008

All things considered, it was a fairly productive day. The day began with an onsight of American Hand Gunner (5.11d), a route notoriously difficult for the grade. American Hand Gunner was a route that I always wanted to do, but never made time for. Limited time, and higher priority projects always forces certain routes further, and further down the list. It's unfortunate, because many of these routes are often five-star. They simply don't see as much traffic because they happen to be low in the grade. Stop chasing numbers!

From the ground, American Hand Gunner (like most routes at the Falls) seemed impervious to attack. A closer look revealed a weakness, albeit not much of one. I'll spare the heavy details, but it is definitely worth checking out. American Hand Gunner is like Hidden Treasure (5.12a), without the fluff. Sequential pockets, long moves, a proper boulder problem on credit card sized crimps, and an exciting top out. It's a brilliant example of the unique brand of challenging movement only found in Southern Illinois. Stellar!

The rest of the day included a repeat of Barbarians at the Gate (5.12a/b), an exciting lesson in poor decision making on Slabstick Comedy (5.12a), and a less than valiant effort on Everybody Needs Friends (5.12a).

I still find it surprising that people don't recognize Jackson Falls as a five-star locale. Southern Illinois is home to the most brilliant and engaging sandstone I have ever encountered. And sure- with my limited experience, that may not be the highest of endorsements. But, for what it's worth, I still think So Ill is top notch.

www.twofourhell.com

In other news, the 24 Hours of Horseshoe Hell Competition is this weekend. I've teamed up with my friend John Oungst, who, back in 2006, was my partner during the first 24HHH. I'm excited to have John on board, and I can't wait to cover as much vertical mileage as possible! I'll be sure to chronicle the weekend once we've had a chance to recover from the self-inflicted sleep deprivation. Fortunately for us, the weather looks as if it will be letting up. Even though we'll be suffering on the inside, we can at least enjoy blue skies, good conditions, and the company of the 200+ individuals who will all inevitably regret their decision to sign up for this event.

Yeah-Yuh!

Which reminds me- Fall is fast approaching! Months of relentless plastic pulling, hyper-focused conditioning, and over-all suffering for that singular pursuit is about to pay off. Despite the ups and downs along the way, I'm excited for the season. I've outlined a few goals/projects, and the plan is to stay focused, to stay hungry, and to grow from the experience. Staying driven is key- it's commitment, not excuses, that makes progress possible. That being said- enjoy this short by Mike Call, featuring Jacinda Hunter, and get psyched for your season!

the weekend warrior

Photo by Aaron Stover

Two weeks have passed since I returned home from the last leg of my trip. Things have slowed down a bit, and transitioning into a different lifestyle certainly has its challenges. Being that the season at home has yet to turn over, climbing has been put on the back burner. My responsibilities are few and far between, and I've found it difficult to flesh out an agenda. I've been spending most of my time working on some long standing household projects, route setting at the gym, nursing old injuries, and, of course, training on plastic.

Photo by Sophie Binder

Despite the limbo, the Fall season is making its way in and motivation is high. Though I have not finalized my decision, I am strongly leaning towards deferring employment until the end of the season. After several months on the road, I realized that I no longer want the full time job I had pursued so aggressively last year- at least not at the moment. Flexibility and spontaneity are far more rewarding than a paycheck. Certainly, if something lucrative were to make itself available I would not turn it down (I may be young, but I'm not foolish). I realize that I can only use my age as an excuse for so long, but I've had my fill of planning. Since March, the plan has been to have no plan, and this maxim has turned 2010 (an otherwise crippling year) around.

So now I find myself, not waiting, but simmering- anticipating a rapid change for the best. Though my mother's health is improving, I plan to stay home until the end of her treatment. Leaving for another two months at this stage would be a bad call. Instead, I have decided to join the ranks as a weekend warrior. It's been a long time since I've had to commute to the office, but, as they often do, situations and circumstances change, and in order to succeed, we must adapt. Initially, I feared that without a proper season (one in which I moved to the crag) I would not be able to accomplish many of my short term and long term goals, but my good friend and personal hero, Rob Smith, assured me that even weekend visits can yield high returns.

So, this weekend I punched the clock and set out for the Red. My goals were to do some reconnaissance on prospective projects for the season, and to clean up shop at the Motherlode. I left Kentucky at the end of the Spring thinking that I had finished every 13a at the Lode, but a closer inspection of the guidebook revealed that I had overlooked a route called "Hoofmaker." Hoofmaker is an amazing route that features an incredibly physical and seemingly improbable boulder problem through the first four bolts, and concludes with sustained, fitness-based climbing.

My first day on the route was disappointing to say the least. Hot, hot heat and humid conditions contributed to an embarrassing onsight attempt, and an uninspired second go beta burn. Dejected, I decided that a partial day of multi-pitch bouldering had, at the very least, given me an idea as to how the route goes. The following day conditions were a bit better. Most of the humidity had burned off (key) and it was a bit cooler as well. I was able to one hang the route on my first go, and after acquiring some savvy beta from Cincinnati resident Scott Fisk, I was able to clip the chains next go. Yeah-yuh!

The day ended with a flash of Rocket Dog (5.12b), thanks to my good friend, John Oungst, who provided all the vitals. Climbing is full of short-lived victories, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I think being hungry despite the results (good or bad) is what makes progress possible.

This in mind, I turned my attention to the Madness Cave and ran a lap on Flour Power (5.13b). Knowing I was in no position to give it a proper onsight attempt, I chose instead to beta check the route by going bolt to bolt in the steep section. Initial impressions? Way steep, way killer, way psyched! The climbing following the obligatory sit down rest tackles small pockets and perfect crimps which give way to finger buckets at the fifth bolt. A race to the second to last bolt yields a great rest before the last tough bit- a long left hand cross through (either from a knee bar, heel hook, or a distant right foot) to a positive hold, a match, and several moves through sloping crimps. It's not quite as sustained as BOHICA, and some of the holds are considerably larger, but it certainly is cruxier. When things cool off I'll be back to make big links, clip chains, and Push up Daisies (5.13c)!

Tony O'Connor Straight Hustlin'

Despite the touch and go conditions, the weekend was a complete success. Team Saint Louis rolled on the Gorge deep (twenty people in total), making for great company, great conversation, and great entertainment. I even got hooked up with a haircut! Thanks again, Marion! It's a shame that full-time jobs prevent us from doing these sort of things more often, but I'm sure there will be other opportunities to hang. Until then, cheers!

Homies

utah update

Early last week, I had the pleasure of picking up a good friend from the Salt Lake City Airport. I last saw John when I returned to Illinois to see my parents, so it was great to have an old friend on board for the last leg of the trip. John had originally planned to spend a week in Colorado with Team Saint Louis (Kevin Boicourt, Dane Iwata, and Marc Chagnon), but at the last minute he scrapped Plan A in order to climb on cobbles with the boys from Illinoise.

Despite a relatively new finger injury, a several week absence from the sport, and some misplaced skin, John showed up with his A game- quickly dispatching several 5.12's including Orgasmo (5.12c), Hooked on Estrogen (5.12c), Functional Idiot (5.12b, Onsight), and The Drizzler (5.12b). Early on John had expressed concerns about his performance, so it was good to see him put things on the board.

Photo by Aaron Stover

I, on the other hand, did not have much luck with my projects. It was a frustrating week as hopes were high to put down Loser (5.13a) and Sprout (5.13a). I was able to one hang both routes quickly, but subsequent attempts on these pitches bore no fruit. I successfully managed to one hang Sprout four times, and also managed to lose my high point on Loser on my third attempt. What?

Loser, 5.13a
Photo by Aaron Stover

Within the last year I have become accustomed to sending 13a relatively quickly. I certainly thought these two routes (which suited me well) would go with little effort. Both routes feature sustained climbing with only one knee bar rest at the half way mark, and long lived crux sections. On my last attempt on Sprout I was able to unlock the knee bar rest that would have made linking the second half of the route possible, but my time ran out.

It was disappointing to have spent three entire weeks in Maple only to leave empty handed. It certainly put me in a strange headspace. I felt as though both routes were well within my ability, but I couldn't shake the anxiety that stemmed from the countdown. Every day I was thinking about getting things done so I could either move on to the next pitch or leave Maple entirely. Time lines have never affected my performance. I generally climb at my own pace, but with the sand running through the hour glass, I suppose I put a great deal of unneeded pressure on myself.

Photo by Aaron Stover

I enjoy redpointing routes quickly, but not because I derive pleasure from expanding some sort of tick list. I think that being able to link a route in a few attempts demonstrates natural talent and unparalleled focus. When you've tried a route several times, you begin to hardwire it- the moves become ingrained and your body adapts to the stresses specific to that route. While it's true that projecting requires multiple failures before a single success, I think that sending a route because all the moves have been dialed only demonstrates the ability to adapt to repetitive behavior. I don't find sending a route that has been dialed rewarding in the least. Everyone has different philosophies or standards regarding their personal climbing performance, perhaps I am a bit too critical?

At any rate, I decided that the remainder of my time in Maple would be better spent sampling more of the canyon's 5.12s. In total, I was able to put together 20+ routes between 5.12a and 5.12d all of which I was able to either onsight or redpoint second go. It was nice to consistently onsight 5.12c, and to even bag two 5.12d onsights.

In climbing, I think it's key to roll with the punches. It's understandable to feel down when your ego is checked or when your expectations unexpectedly need to be re-evaluated, but learning to adapt to changing situations is part of being a climber. Whether you're retooling a sequence onsight or redefining your short term and long term goals, it's crucial to take a step back, collect yourself, and find a different approach. Rest assured, if you remain stubborn, you will stunt your growth. While I could have pushed John and Aaron to trek back to the Pipe Dream cave for one more attempt, it seemed that I could learn more by solidifying my base, focusing on revamping my onsight/redpoint tactics, and ultimately being humbled by leaving some short term goals open-ended. Regardless of my mediocre performance, it was nice to climb in a new locale with two of my good friends.

On an unrelated note, we managed to arrange our last rest day around the Miss Sanpete County 2010 Beauty Pageant- a definite highlight. Unfortunately for us, poor planning on our part forced us to sit in the back of the theater, and being that my eye sight is quite poor, I was unable to make out much of Sanpete County's finest. After a heated swimsuit competition which featured entirely too many one-pieces, and the talent portion of the event which showcased an unfortunate oboe piece and a less than spectacular vocal performance of "I Need a Hero," we were able to hear from the contestants regarding their service platforms. In the end, one of the indescribable, blurry young women was crowned Miss Sanpete and the rest were given some sort of conciliatory title (Miss Congeniality, Miss Something or Other, etc). While there was quite the turn out for the event, it seemed as though Ephraim was shutting down for the night, so we hit the bricks and headed back to Maple Canyon.

In other news, our departure date is approaching fast, and in order to break up the long drive home we've decided to stop in Rifle, CO. After sampling some more of the States' best limestone crag, we'll make tracks for Boulder where we'll post up for a night at our friend Kika's place. Then we're heading East of East Saint Louis- I'm definitely psyched to go home, spend time with my family, see my friends, and plan out my Fall season. Get psyched!

we have arrived

Admittedly, I have been doing a poor job of updating the blog. Traveling has made finding time, and a reliable internet connection difficult. That being said, I have decided to fast track the blog in the interest of keeping the time line current. The few of you who are interested in knowing what went down in Canada please feel free to write, call, or share a comment.

Near the end of my stay in Kentucky, my good friend Aaron and I had discussed spending part of our Summer in Maple Canyon, UT. Initially it was just a thought- a plan that had been tabled once we agreed to visit our Canadian friends instead. When we found out that Aaron would be unable to make it up North, we decided to dust off Plan B. Two weeks after I arrived Stateside, Aaron flew into Denver and we made tracks for Utah.


I should start by noting that the first leg of our trip was a logistical nightmare. Running on six hours of sleep, we attempted to gather the equipment we so desperately needed, but failed to pack. A trip to the Denver Goodwill proved to be one of our few initial successes. We were able to procure a cook set, kitchenware, dishes, utensils, and a dry bin for under $15. It was a relief to have gotten everything we needed without breaking the bank. Between the two of us, we only had $350. Our financial situation was looking grim, and fully knowing that we may not have enough money for groceries, petrol, and camping fees for three weeks, we decided to go for it anyway. Why not? It's always the perfect season somewhere, right? We certainly didn't want to miss out. With the car packed, we set off for Maple.

Ordinarily, the 500 mile drive between Denver, CO and Moroni, UT should take 8 hours. However, after discovering that all of the campsites at Maple had been reserved, we were forced to drive an additional 3 hours before we found another available campsite.

In the next town over.

An hour away from the crag.

Unbelievable.

Two consecutive days without sleep made it challenging to muster up the energy to hit the cliff, but we made it a point to climb three days on any way. We knew that we needed to build a base if anything was going to get done during our short stay. Our first two days were rough to say the least. We succeeded in doing the fewest number of pitches I have ever done during a session. After miraculously making it up three entire pitches at the Minimum Wall, we called it quits. Our second session at Box Canyon yielded the same results. Between our poor sleep schedule, our sub-par performance at the cliff, and our bleak financial situation, it seemed like nothing was going right.

Things finally turned around on our third day. After catching up on some much needed sleep, and moving our campsite into Maple Canyon proper, we managed to get to the cliff at a reasonable time. In addition to the normalcy, we were able to log six pitches each, most of which were roughly 90 feet. It was a relief to have finally put one good day on the board. After three days of suffering, it would appear that we finally hit our stride. I have been enjoying the climbing here quite a bit, perhaps because it is relatively similar to the Gorge- steep, fitness-based climbing. Notable ascents so far have been onsights of Big Calm (12b), Orgasmo (12c), Space Lordz (12d), and a redpoint of Cobble in the Sky (12c)- all of which clock in between 90 and 100 ft. So psyched!

Chris Sharma, UBC 2010 Problem #2
Photo by Aaron Stover

Tomorrow we're heading to Salt Lake City to check out the OR Trade Show. We're planning to catch the UBC Pro Tour in the evening, and if we're lucky, we might be able to sneak into the trade show to see whats new for 2011. Regardless of how our rest day goes, we're going to hit it hard the following day. The Pipe Dream cave is an impressive crag and has several amazing routes- all of which tear through a 100+ foot cave. Serious! A friend of mine turned me on to a route called The Great Feast (5.13c). I'm definitely excited to see how things go now that we have arrived in a positive head space.

But, as always, all good things must come to an end. As I am writing this, water is slowly making its way into my tent through every available weakness. Who knew that it could rain this much in the desert? If I don't drown tonight I will do my best to update the blog more frequently. Traveling has made it difficult, but I'm sure things will settle out soon. They always do.