Last month I made my way out East to meet up with my friend Natalie and the rest of the lifers in Beattyville, Kentucky. The forecast was questionable at best, but life's too short to play it safe. It's good to gamble every now and then. And besides, I just got back from Vegas. I was feeling lucky.
At the outset of my visit I knew that time wasn't on my side, so I got to work right away. Things on the short list started out relatively well. I began my brief campaign at the Motherlode where I was able to one hang The Madness (5.13c) quickly. I of course realize that one hanging a 130 ft. pitch at the 100 foot mark doesn't guarantee anything, but I chalked it up as a small success and decided I needed a mental break from this particular route.
So the following day I changed the venue and headed to Bob Marley Crag with my sights set on No Redemption (5.13b). Jimmy Webb had done the route the day before and he was able to give me the quick and dirty on the pitch. After two attempts I felt that a proper redpoint needed nothing more than adequate conditions. Previous days had been remarkably hot and humid, and unfortunately for us, the weather didn't look as though it would break any time soon. But what are you going to do? Make excuses, or take a swing? I figured I'd plan on hitting the cliff when things turned around.
But in the mean time I managed to run in to some bad luck. What started out as the day to siege quickly turned into multiple days of getting my life together. The short bit is that my car got broken into. Almost everything stolen. Fuck. My. Life. But what are you going to do? In life you generally have two options: you can get bent, shut down, and let the past poison the present, or you can get your fucking life together and handle your shit so you can go rock climbing.
So gears had to switch and I spent the next two days on the phone with the police, the bank, my insurance company, local collision centers, credit card companies, my cell service provider, work, and all the other institutions that have a hand in making it possible to live on the grid. At the end of the day, losing my things wasn't really something I was concerned with. It was losing my time, my momentum, and my relentless optimism.
But like I said, when the trajectory of your life changes unexpectedly you can either pack up and head out, or you can bring the big heavy and deal with it head on. No matter how hard gravity hits, there are moments where you need realize that no one owes you anything, and if you want something bad enough you just have to take it. It's never fun going solo when things look bleak, but this is how you define yourself as a warrior: an individual who can endure suffering in any number of capacities, an individual who tries fucking hard despite the circumstances, and an individual who knows that you miss 100% of the shots you don't take.
So after setting things in motion it was time to head back to cliff. Despite bleak conditions I went back to No Redemption and was able to clip the chains on my first go of the day. It felt good to pull the trigger on this one. The route is fucking brilliant: powerful, low percentage moves on sculpted holds scattered over 70 feet of golden, vertical stone. Absolutely savage precision. Definitely one of the best I've ever done. So psyched.
As I often do, I kept celebrations brief and my friend David and I headed to Left Flank. Still hungry for more, I gave Table of Colors (5.13a) a go. I was able to send the route second try, and while I don't much like this style of climbing, I can certainly appreciate the history behind the route. As long as I've been climbing at the Gorge, no other route in the grade seems to carry as much weight. I've heard people refer to it as the 13a test piece. Not sure if I agree, but an interesting climb nonetheless.
The following day we headed over to Drive-By where I was able to hook up Easy Rider (5.13a) first go, despite some wet holds going to the chains. It always feels good to siege a 100+ foot pitch. Straight up warrior mode. No tact, no finesse, just an all out assault. Proper endurance climbing with a heart breaker move at the anchors. Full value- thanks to Mike Doyle for equipping what will inevitably become another classic route in the grade for the Gorge.
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| Photo by Katherine Smith |
Even though I was able to buy more time due to the circumstances, I found it quite challenging to find a rhythm. The weather prevented us from hitting the cliff regularly and after a few days of great climbing, things came to a grinding halt. Torrential downpour and spikes in humidity kept us shut in Brendan's trailer, and being that I live out of my truck, a broken window provided the challenge of some cold nights. And sure, it would have been nice to do The Madness and some other routes, but that's what's amazing about rock climbing. You always get another chance to try.
Besides, what's the point of getting wound up over some rain? It's always sunny somewhere else, right? It's better for your heart to live your life the way it plays out instead of getting warped about how you'd like things to be. And truth be told, I don't wish that things went differently. Wishes never come true any way. All you can do is play the cards you're dealt and keep swinging when your back's up against the wall.
Life on the run provides an infinite number of challenging encounters. A fortunate by product of this reality is that it allows (or sometimes forces) you to learn, to adapt, and to change your perspective. Life can change dramatically even if nothing actually happens at all. It's a peculiar thing to flip a switch and start living differently when the right episodes play out. While I've given up stability, roots, financial security, and the like, I've managed to develop a relentless ability to swing for the fences- even when things look bleak. It's warrior mode. I'm militant minded. I wouldn't trade it for anything.
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