looking forward to going back

Things have picked up on my end since I posted last. I've been running myself into the ground in an attempt to shore up enough cash to fund prospective travel for the upcoming Spring season. It's been a paper chase since the year started, and what little free time I have has been spent climbing in Southern Illinois and rehabbing some newly acquired injuries.

Photo by Dane Iwata

A few weeks ago I managed to strain some of the musculature in my shoulder. Being no stranger to injury, I spent two weeks icing, utilizing hot/cold therapy, and abstaining from climbing (for the most part). Despite a relatively promising recovery, I decided to see my friend Dr. Anthony Miller in order to get the 411. In the past, Dr. Miller has treated me for both medial epiconylitis in my left elbow and popliteus tendinitis in my left knee. Fully knowing how bad those particular injuries became over time, I decided to get an early start on the road to recovery. Also, having just gained some momentum in my climbing, I didn't want to jeopardize my progress by incorrectly addressing my injury.

From what I understand, and I encourage any readers who are more knowledgeable regarding this subject to correct me, my injury was the result of another weak link in the chain. When the muscles in my shoulders and back are engaged, my scapula lifts off of my back. This in turn changes the way in which related muscle groups are articulated when being used. The result of this shift is an increased strain on certain muscles as they are not meant to be stressed in such an abnormal fashion.

It was made clear to me by Dr. Miller that my prognosis was very good, and that the proactive measures I took early on made certain that I would be back in the vertical world relatively soon. It's been two weeks since I started a proper rehab routine (a combination of electro-stimulation, manipulations/massage, body weight exercises, and a comprehensive theraband workout), and things are going quite well. Although I have noticed that climbing in general doesn't seem to aggravate my shoulder, but oddly enough most activities at work (stocking, bagging, etc) do. Oh well. Gotta get paid.

In other news, I just finalized plans to hit Las Vegas during the first week in April. My friend Natalie and I have been kicking around the idea for some time now, but we were finally able to pin down specifics last week. 8 days in Sin City? Yes sir. 

I haven't climbed on a rope since I finished my Fall season in Kentucky, and I haven't been to Vegas in years. In a lot of ways Red Rock Canyon was the first place where I felt compelled to improve my climbing. It was the first proper sport climbing trip I had ever been on, and it definitely helped shape my passion for the sport. I'm looking forward to going back, running up vertical mileage, and relaxing in fabulous Las Vegas, Nevada.

Finally, last week my friend David and I made our way back to the Roost. The snow storm that was projected to devastate our region had, for the most part, missed Southern Illinois. Fantastic. 

We found three new problems, two of which are featured in the video above. While I was unable to do the long, dead-point crux move on Danger Mouse (V7), I was able to get the FA of the lesser line which climbs in from the left (Of Mice and Men, V5). Both problems are a little breezy, 20+ feet?  Get some.

Part Time Ninja (V8) was definitely the plum line- body tension, big move crimp climbing, and an exciting finish. Having spent most of my day trying Titlest (V8) at the Falls proper, I was too spent to stick the crux on point. Can't wait to go back and put both down.

Until then, it's just a run down the clock scenario.

Hueco: 8 Days

deep freeze

After some experimenting, it's become clear to me that I should actively pursue Yoga in some capacity. In the last three weeks I've learned that I actually possess very little self-awareness and that my personal definition of flexibility is laughable. As a dedicated climber with a particularly reigned in approach, I thought I was capable of controlling my body fairly well. Clearly that's not the case, and even during simple poses I find myself wondering how it is that the geriatric next to me is able to stay so unflinchingly composed without sporting the most brutal try hard face.

In a sense, my definitions of what it is to be aware, flexible, and present are being challenged. This new trajectory is refreshing- it's an opportunity to learn and to grow. I believe that those who excel in life do so because they are constantly redefining the parameters that shape their experience.

With that in mind, I suppose it's good to take a step back and realize that while both disciplines (climbing and yoga) share some similarities, they are fundamentally different. Much like I wouldn't expect a novice climber to onsight moderate climbs in good fashion, I shouldn't expect myself to successfully and effortlessly execute every pose immediately. I suppose that's why it's called a "learning process" and not a "learning instant." At any rate, I'm looking forward to increasing my own self-awareness and to looking like less of an idiot in the process.

In addition to these recent discoveries, I was able to make it out this past Saturday for a session at the Roost in Southern Illinois. It was the first time in weeks that both my work schedule and the weather cooperated. 45 degrees and sunny? In January? Whaaaaat! 

Throwback

Needless to say, I was glad to get out of the gym and back to the real world. After a visual tour of the surrounding boulders, we made our way down to Screaming Eagle (V6) and Beaver Eater Deluxe (V7). A botched flash attempt gave way to a second go send of Screaming Eagle. Not the most aesthetic boulder, but great moves and good height!

While I was unable to do Beaver Eater Deluxe, my friend David was able to link Screaming Eagle into Beaver Eater Deluxe- which was dubbed, for the time being, Screaming Beaver Eater Deluxe (FA, V9). Definitely a good show. Hopefully we'll post the video soon?

From there we made our way over to Illinois' Biggest Sloper (V7)- easily THE best boulder problem in the state. It's amazing that such an incredible feature could be formed naturally. The problem tackles an improbably large and featureless sloper. A long lock off from the sloper to a left handed side pull gives way to a precarious finish on a perplexing prow. Upon examination it was clear that at a certain point the beta would simply be to not fall. We had a good laugh about that, and then, in rookie fashion, I managed to fall on the exact part of the problem we had discussed only moments before.

 

Despite nearly killing myself on my second try (thanks for saving my life David!), I was able to reach the summit on my next attempt. Definitely the most satisfying problem I have ever done- period.

The day finished with a flash of The Oriole (V5) and a near send of Chuck Norris (V9)- too bad "nearly sent" is a chump way of saying "didn't send." Can't wait to go back fresh! An improbable looking line just to the left of Chuck Norris was also discovered, so there's some unfinished business back at the Roost. 

Unfortunately, Old Man Winter is starting to make his rounds. We're projected to receive six to eight inches of snow, so we'll see if anything stays dry- fingers crossed.

You know you're getting older when you see snow falling and instead of getting excited about building snowmen and going sledding, you think about all the pain in the ass things you have to do to deal with it. Yikes. See you in the deep freeze.

Hueco: 28 Days

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.