hoop dreams

2011 kicked off in good fashion with a maelstrom of inexplicable injuries and enduring ailments. Not the way I'd like to start things, but after coughing up blood and battling a trifecta of injuries (wrist, hand, & elbow) for two weeks, I'm back. I feel like spending two weeks on the couch may have set me back, but there's not much I can do about it. Realistically, a fourteen day loss is negligible, so I don't plan to up the ante in order to make up for lost time. You can't make up for lost time, so why bother worrying about it? Right? Other than that, with the holidays having drawn to a close, I feel relieved. I'm glad to be as far away from them as possible. Maybe next year I'll be more prepared to deal.

Complications aside, my campaign for personal growth has been advancing steadily. Since the beginning of the year, I have successfully resurrected my savings account, begun my search for a yoga studio that suits my needs, and finally addressed my move back to the city. I'm still finding it difficult to introduce certain exercises into my schedule (reading, writing, and work-shopping ideas), but I'm doing my best. I'm beginning to realize that finding and managing a balanced life is an incredibly difficult thing to do. I certainly envy those who do it well!

In other news: come February, I'm out of here. I've booked my flight and I'm heading to Hueco for two weeks. Naturally, having never been, I'm excited. I'm not a boulderer by trade, but since I returned to Saint Louis I've been doing my best to flip some switches and get my head in the game. I'm also not delusional, so I haven't outlined any particular goals for the trip. 

Yet. 

Truth be told, I'm just glad I have the opportunity to split for a while and check out a new scene. Winter weather, a challenging schedule, and the typical struggles associated with pulling on plastic have made climbing stale. Definitely ready to bolt.

Countdown: 38 days

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.