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.

solo team

With the first leg of my Northern Ontario tour completed, I moved on to the cliffs along the Georgian Bay- eager to see what they had to offer. My friend Greg Williamson, whom I had met in Kentucky this past Spring, spoke highly of the area. After seeing an excerpt from the film "The Continuum Project," I was sold. I spent my first day with select members of the Toronto crew, and was given a proper tour of Lions Head (which was invaluable as the guidebook has been outdated for quite some time.)

Photo by Miguel Jette

Lions Head is, by far, the most unique climbing area I have visited in my climbing career. While the climbing itself is distinct from other limestone crags I've encountered, it's unique nature truly exists in its accessibility. Unlike most crags, many of the routes do not start at the base of the cliff. The quality of the limestone here tends to diminish in certain sectors, while in others the cliff vanishes entirely- leaving a significant amount of open air between the climbable surface and the ground. As a result, many of the climbs require a hanging belay. Early on I was told that most of the locals prefer to rope solo because it offers easy access in to and out of the cliff, unparalleled efficiency, and it saves everyone from the hassle of the dreaded hanging belay.

Unknown Climber, Maneline 5.10a

Many of the Toronto natives were only around for the long Canada Day weekend, and I was subsequently left to my own devices during the majority of my stay. Eager to get after it, I committed to the reality that if any climbing was going to get done it would have to be a solo mission.

Rope soloing is a double-edged sword. While it certainly is a great way to pack in volume during a session, and a great way to suss out potential projects, it makes it quite difficult to commit to particular moves on point. Generally I don't think about the consequences of failing to execute. That's why someone else is on the other end of the rope, right? Rope soloing essentially adds another variable to an already complex equation. Typically I focus on deciphering sequences, committing to a plan, detoxing, lowering my heart rate, and maintaining a cadence. Being in charge of my own safety is something I have never had to consider, so incorporating this variable into my climbing repertoire was incredibly challenging for me. But, as in most situations, we learn to adapt.

Zone of Extreme Beauty 5.12c/d
Photos by Miguel Jette

Earlier in the week I tried a route called Thor from the Floor (5.12d), an extension to Thor (5.12b). The extension adds two difficult boulder problems, and roughly doubles the length of the pitch. I assumed that because it took quite some time to unlock the sequences on my first attempt several days prior, it would be best to rope solo the route in order rehearse the moves. After quickly pushing through the bottom two cruxes I found myself at the more moderate section of the climb. Having a rough idea of what to do, I decided that it would be entirely possible to redpoint the route on rope solo. Unfortunately, after arriving at the fourth crux, I quickly realized that I had not taken up slack in quite some time. With the clock ticking and the holds shrinking, I knew stopping was not an option. Attempting to rectify my mistake midway through the crux would surely jeopardize my redpoint attempt. Rookie mistake!

The last crux involves paddling through several slopey holds and gastons in order to gain a right hand pinch/undercling. Once established on the undercling, I attempted to move my feet up on poor smears in order to stab for the last shallow two finger pocket. However, seeing the sizable amount of slack I had left for myself whipping in the wind did not inspire confidence. I would like to think that my level of commitment on point is one of the few things that I am good at as a climber, but in this scenario I was completely spooked and out of my element. I halfheartedly attempted the move, grabbed the break line, and took the plunge. Amateur hour!

Photo by Miguel Jette

Subsequent days proved to be a bit more productive. I was able to have two proper sport climbing sessions during which I was able to redpoint routes in every grade between 5.10a and 5.12d. Though I did try routes between 5.13a and 5.13d, I ultimately found that progressing quickly in such an environment would not have been possible for me. The climbing in Lions Head is incredibly specialized. As the climbs become more difficult, the holds begin to disappear, and a new climbing language must be applied. It would most likely take me an entire season to develop the technique necessary to climb at Lions Head. I suppose it was unreasonable to think that I could send at my limit in every destination without first taking the time to learn the local language. During my short visit, I was only able to catch a glimpse of the style that makes Lions Head both challenging and unique. Despite having my ego checked once again, I thoroughly enjoyed the opportunity to explore a new destination, and to finally find some peace in solitude.

I would like to once again thank my friend Migüel Jetté for providing the photos that accompanied this and the previous post. A link to his blog can be found in the list of blogs I follow (located in the right hand margin of the page).

the scoop

I arrived in Toronto early this morning after spending two weeks in Lions Head, ON. I would have liked to update the blog during my stay, but I was unable to secure a reliable internet connection. Despite not having access to certain modern amenities, my stay in Lions Head was a welcomed change from the typical climbing scene.

Lions Head is a small, unassuming port town on the Bruce Peninsula located near the Georgian Bay. There are several climbing areas in the many escarpments along the bay (Whites Bluff, TV Tower, Disneyland, etc.), but I was encouraged by the locals to divide my time between the Halfway Log Dump and Lions Head.

Halfway Log Dump

"The Dump," as many of the locals refer to it as, is a misleading moniker. The Dump is easily the most aesthetic bouldering area I have ever visited. While some of the boulders themselves are quite spectacular, it was primarily their location near the water that made this area stand out. These amazing black and white limestone boulders are scattered along the striking Georgian Bay. Many of the boulders are accented with a brilliant orange moss, and others are home to the Lakeside Daisy (an endangered yellow flower). I found the juxtaposition of such vibrant colors against the muted boulders incredibly appealing. It seemed improbable that such a tropical setting could exist in North America.

The Whale Boulder

In addition to the stunning visuals, I was also impressed by the variety of styles, and the quality of the climbing that these wind worn boulders had to offer. Though the problems were short, the movement that was dictated by their forms was incredibly satisfying to unlock. In the four days that I spent climbing at the Dump I was able to dispatch some amazing problems ranging from V1 to V8.

Bonnie De Brujin, Cedar Arete V7

Because the Dump is a recent Ontario Access Coalition acquisition (spearheaded by local developer Adam Reeve), there are still some boulders that have not seen first ascents. The majority of the established boulder problems are moderate (V5 and below), but climbers are still finding potential in some of the most improbable looking boulders.

Beyond the main sector is an area known as Cave Point which harbors The Dump's tallest lines. Poor landings, committing moves, and big air have kept most people away from these boulders. Despite these technicalities, a few members of the Toronto crew were eager to check out the potential, and I myself had been looking at these boulders from a distance.

Led by local Dave Voltan, we made our way to the main event- a steep, overhanging prow precariously perched over a devastating landing 20+ feet off the deck. From the ground it was evident that just enough positive holds existed to climb this impressive feature. With the pads arranged we went to work, attempting to decipher the moves that would gain the top of the boulder. However, after a short period of time it was clear that without more pads and more spotters that this particular climb would be a bad idea. Amateur hour! Dejected, we moved on.

Behind the project we found another stunning black and white striated bloc dimpled with pale pockets. Not only was this sheer face beautiful, it was also one of the few problems that had a relatively safe landing. After some inspecting and postulating we agreed that this would be an amazing climb. The crux of the climb requires an accurate right hand cross into a Spock-grip set of pockets, a precarious right foot placement partnered with a back flag, and standing into and rolling out of a left hand, half-pad sidepull with a thumb catch located directly above the previous right hand. From this point the difficulty of the climb relents, but it remains quite committing. Two horizontal seams split the upper third of the boulder and while both seams are positive, they are quite far apart, the feet are non existent, accuracy is crucial, and a considerable amount of air separates you from the ground. Once established in the higher seam, a few moderate moves yield the top of the boulder.


I found the process of finding a new boulder, discovering its weakness with a motivated crew, and ultimately topping out high off the deck incredibly satisfying. Even though the problem was moderate (V5), I have never been so adrenalized. I'm not entirely sure what constitutes a proper highball, but this problem seemed relatively tall (perhaps 20 ft). Regardless of the grade or the classification, it was without a doubt one of the highlights of my visit. Luckily, Adam Reeve was able to film the process. I'll be sure to post the footage once it becomes available.

The remainder of my stay was spent at the cliff, but perhaps it would be best to discuss that in another post. While the time line may be off, I will continue to post about my visit throughout the week.

I would like to thank my friend Migüel Jetté for providing these spectacular photographs. I have included a link to his blog on my page and I would encourage you to visit.

rifle

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.

drops in a bucket

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.

reset

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.