After spending a week in the gym I was finally able to make it out for a few days. My first session at Clear Creek Canyon was relatively successful. After warming up on some of the longer moderate pitches, I made my way over to a route that I had tried years ago when I first began my sport climbing career. Ten Digit Dialing (5.12c) is a nearly vertical route whose popularity can be attributed to its incredibly specific crux sequence. Years ago when I first tried the route I was unable to do the majority of the crux (roughly a third of the climb) which involves navigating through quarter-pad, side-pull crimps and underclings that lead into a compression section on slopers. Things went much better this time around. I came incredibly close to sending the route while hanging the draws, but I fell short going to the positive holds that lead to the exit. After refining the sequence I was able to send the route on my second attempt. I was pleased to have made quick work of such an impressive climb. Ten Digit Dialing, while not the most demanding route, was a benchmark that allowed me to see how things have progressed over my four and a half year climbing career. I enjoy the challenge of making something that at first appears to be impossible seem effortless. I think that successfully making this transition is proof that when you stop making excuses and start working harder you will be rewarded.
With most of the day left, I turned my attention to another route that I had tried once last summer. Interstellar Overdrive (5.13c/d) is a Tommy Caldwell route that is situated on a beautiful, gently overhung bloc at the edge of the 90's Wall. As I recall, the majority of the route clocks in at 5.13a. A marginal rest from the three-quarter mark leads to a V8 boulder problem that tackles relatively small crimps that are quite far apart. Unfortunately, the sun began to move in and forced us to retreat to a shadier crag before I had the chance to tie in. Despite the failure to launch, I plan to make this a priority when I get back to Denver. The day finished with onsights of Slammer (5.12b) and The Great Escape (5.12c) at the Wall of Justice. Neither route was remarkable, but it was certainly nice to see that my fitness had not diminished entirely after a four week absence from the sport.
After a rest day, I got back on the road and headed to Rifle. Considered by most to be America's premiere sport climbing area, Rifle houses a high concentration of difficult routes within a one mile-long stretch of the canyon. I've often heard that Rifle requires a very specialized set of techniques to unlock many of the routes. After sampling routes between 5.10 and 5.13, I would have to concur.
Typically when I visit a new area I make it a point to try as many routes as possible in order to adapt to the environment quickly. This means that every attempt is generally an onsight attempt. I've often thought that I excel at onsighting, but it quickly became clear that onsighting at Rifle is a completely different game. The climbing is much more about manipulating angles, shapes, and body positions than it is about deciphering hand sequences and pulling on holds. I found that the moves in and of themselves were quite rudimentary, but learning how to make use of the blocky terrain took some time to figure out. Further complicating things is the fact that the limestone at Rifle has been so heavily trafficked that most holds are polished. I found it difficult to fully relax my grip as I would on sandstone, and as a result was plagued with a nagging pump that rarely relented.
Climbing in Rifle was humbling to say the least. At the end of my visit I managed to only onsight several routes between 5.11a and 5.11d. I can typically onsight 5.12+ and I even came close to onsighting 5.13a this past fall, so suffering on 5.12 was remarkably frustrating. I certainly don't think that Rifle is sandbagged. It just has a very particular style, and the approach to projecting here requires a different lens. Most climbers in the local scene, including Lynn Hill, reassured me that the learning curve at Rifle is steep. Ultimately I was forced to scale back my expectations in order to refine my technique. Despite not putting things on the board, I truly enjoyed learning a new climbing language. Coming home empty handed is never fun, but that's the great thing about climbing- you always get a second chance.
The bottom line: believe the hype. Rifle is amazing. I look forward to climbing here again when I return to the States.
Until then, I will be spending some time in Canada. Currently I am at 35,000 feet en route to Toronto, Ontario. It's been a chaotic week jumping between planes, trains, and automobiles, but I'm psyched to see my friends and to sample some of the climbing that Canada has to offer. I've been told that Lions Head is home to brilliant limestone and breath-taking views. In addition to the sport climbing scene, I'll have the opportunity to check out some of the recently reopened bouldering spots in the area. From what little I've seen from my friend's blog, the boulders look absolutely brilliant. I don't consider myself to be talented in this particular discipline, but I look forward to trying hard.
I have spent the last week acclimating to the scene here in Denver. While the climbing community is certainly larger than that of the Red River Gorge, it has been remarkably difficult to make it out to the crag. Conditions and full-time jobs are preventing most people from going out. After speaking with several individuals it seems that these conditions (80 degrees and no humidity) are not ideal...wait. What? Clearly they have never been to the Midwest or the Southeast.
To be fair, it did rain for three days. I have been reassured that I am not missing out on much. Local venues like Clear Creek, Boulder Canyon, Estes Park and RMNP would most likely be saturated and unclimbable. I suppose their regional acumen is more refined than my own, so I will trust their judgment.
As a result, I have been doing most of my climbing at Movement Climbing + Fitness in Boulder, CO. Normally I wouldn't condone such behavior, but the transition to pulling on plastic has not been difficult under the circumstances. Exceptional route setting in conjunction with the gym's layout and resources make it the obvious place to train. I typically spend the summer preparing for the fall season anyway, so I am excited to take advantage of such an impressive indoor facility.
It's nice to have a consistent climbing routine again. I am a firm believer that consistency over time determines the difference between an average rock climber and an exceptional athlete. Progressing in this sport is similar to filling a bucket with water one drop at a time. A few dedicated workouts a week certainly won't allow you to break through the glass ceiling next month. A few dedicated workouts every week for 52 weeks, however, will have an impact on your performance the following year. Patience and perspective are indispensable allies. Given enough time, the water level in the bucket will rise.
While it is certainly true that some individuals possess the genetic potential to advance quickly, the reality is that most of us are not as fortunate. Comparing yourself to other climbers is a dangerous trap that we have all fallen into at some point during our climbing careers. I think it's important to remember that once you've compared your abilities to another individual's, the only thing that you have succeeded in doing is making an elementary observation. Clearly there are stronger, more talented climbers out there. I think our time is better spent isolating personal weaknesses, developing effective strategies to target those weaknesses, and committing to a routine.
Over the years I've heard many people express a dissatisfaction with their performance or a desire to hit that new grade. The only thing I can offer is that it's time to stop talking and time to start working. The only way to get things done is to start.
The clarity I began to discover during my stay in Kentucky has once again escaped me. I am struggling to articulate the very nature of my conflict, but perhaps it is best that I refrain from doing so. I would hate to subject anyone to such a raw, disjointed narrative.
I have been trapped in my head for so long that it has been difficult for me to communicate effectively. While I continue to write, my thoughts materialize in fragments. Much like being armed with a waning candle in a dark room, I can only catch glimpses of the objects that occupy the space. And, when the light inevitably goes out, I am left with a faint, incomplete image.
While solitude can liberate the intellect, it can surely torment the heart. Guilt, despair, and isolation have ravaged me for some time now. I continue to search for answers, but the process is exhausting and has yet to yield a single result. Even the reason for my voluntary incarceration is unknown. Amidst this graveyard of unanswered questions one thing is certain: I cannot do this any more.
It's time to hit reset. The trajectory of my life has changed dramatically and I have to accept that. This year has tested my resiliency, and it will undoubtedly continue to do so. People have reminded me that when it rains, it pours. I suppose I'll just have to play in the rain.
After a two week detour, I am resuming my search for clarity. To say that I am running away would be inaccurate. I am now in pursuit of something far more complex than mere self-preservation. While I am certainly not whole again, I hope to one day be.I leave for Denver in the morning.
