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!