First off I'd like to assure you that I have no idea why I am writing a blog, all I know is that I wanted to write some stuff down and I figured this might be a good way to do it. I have no idea if I will ever post another blog entry, so don't get your hopes up, and if I do I can promise you they will not all be this long. Plus I really just want to follow some other people's blogs so I got my own...that makes sense right...?
I often try to decipher whether climbing is more of an
individual sport or a partnership. I
still have no answer because I can argue both ways but I think a balance
between the two is necessary in addition to a great respect for the sport. Consider a multi-pitch route; climbers are
connected by a rope, literally a partnership is created, metaphorically it can
be entirely different. As I begin to
climb away from my partner it’s as if I am cutting the rope and a connection to
the world. I am alone and climbing, that
is all. I choose where to place gear, I
choose where to smear a foot or how to jam my hand into a crack, and I choose
where to build an anchor and when to say “off belay!” Sometimes spoken communication between
partners is blown away with the wind and rarely can you catch a glimpse of the
other end of the rope, instead one must rely on unspoken knowledge. The belayer’s experience knows the speed of
the rope running through their hands meaning your off belay or the extended
pause while building an anchor, or the immediate force of being pull up and
towards the rock insinuating the climber has fallen is part of both an
individual and group experience.
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| After 1040' and 10 pitches of climbing, Kathleen and I made it to the top of Dark Shadows. The majority of the climb we were separated but it was a joint effort the whole way up...and down. |
Or take
bouldering for example, a sport you can do with people or alone. Recently I was asked what was so intriguing
about bouldering to me (the majority of the people I’ve met stick to trad and
ice). I didn’t have an answer immediately and I thought of many reasons why I
loved it but none I was satisfied with.
I don’t think words can describe the things I cherish most but
one reason I enjoy bouldering is because it can be done alone. When partners are busy or I need time alone I
can go bouldering. Although I can do
many things alone I haven’t found anything comparable to bouldering. When I place my foot on a tiny edge, grasp a
sidepull or incut crimp and pull onto the rock it’s just me and the proceeding
movement of flow. All of my worries fade
away, all of my insecurities are nonexistent, and all that is left is figuring
out the flow of the problem and the path of least resistance to the top. As much as I receive from bouldering alone it’s
just as important to me as bouldering with others. The atmosphere of friends or soon to be
friends huddled together with their hands raised in the air following the
climber as they ascend the rock, shouting words of encouragement or advice is a
thrilling experience in itself. The
balance between the solitude of climbing and the community of climbing is one
of the most magnificent aspects.
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| Nat on Solarium in the Happy's. Bouldering with friends is fun and they got your spot! |
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| Me on Bad Genes at New Joe's taking some time alone. |
Community: defined as
a social group of people sharing common interests living in a particular area. When I began climbing it was apparent that
the people I frequently associated myself with were different from people I
would pass walking in and out of the library every day. You can usually pick them out of a crowd by
their shoes or maybe their greasy hair but if you aren’t looking closely you’ll
easily walk by them picking veggies in the grocery store. The climbing community I experienced in
Boone, NC instilled a deep rooted trust and openness to others who consider
themselves “climbers.” Without my
entrance into the Boone climbing community I’m sure I wouldn’t be where I am
now; westward bound living out of a tent.
I appreciate everyone whom I have climbed with and taught me a thing or
two, weather it was the beta for a project or how to perfectly spread peanut
butter using a stick.
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| A throw back to a good day with the Boone crew. There's nothing quite like this picture. |
When I travel I notice that a community of climbers exists
world-wide. Climbers communicate and
share information through technology of the internet (for example I am 78% sure
I am starting a blog just to follow climber’s blogs I’ve met on my journeys) and
through friends of friends. Smaller
groups exist depending on location, age, gender, and for various reasons;
nonetheless we are all climbers. This
unity was magnified when I traveled to South Africa with a strong desire to
climb. When the time came for me to head
to Rocklands my ride, from a friend of a friend, fell through. Therefore I reached out, not to a stranger,
but to a climber. I posted on a climbing
forum and within hours I had a ride to Rocklands, a tent to share, a crash pad
to borrow, and partners to climb with.
People flocked from all over the world to experience this world class
bouldering destination in South Africa although backgrounds were varied we all
spoke a common language of climbing. Whether
someone was shouting “Venga!,” “Alle, Alle!,” “Kom Igen!,” or “Come on, you got
it!” the remark was understood and the encouragement was received.
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| People from all over the world gathered round the fire at De Pakhuys in Rocklands, ZA. |
Each place has a slightly different take on the community it
instills but they can all be linked through common threads. No matter where I am in the world if I see
someone wearing a Misty Mountain harness or frolicking through the woods with a
Misty crash pad I immediately feel I’m a step past acquaintances with that
person. Misty Mountain Threadworks
produces some of the highest quality climbing equipment in Valle Crucis,
NC. If you are rocking their gear it
usually means you have some connection to the high country. As I glace around a crag I notice who’s
sporting a Misty and then strike up a conversation with them at some point or
another, before you know it you realize you’ve both climbed with the same
people and enjoyed the same places.
These climbing communities are varied and wide yet weaved throughout the
world on so many levels.
This journey I call life is enhanced by the ones that I have
merged paths with at one point or another.
Someone recently shared with me a quote that I’m
currently finding more appropriate as time goes on…
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| "A journey is best measured in friends, rather than miles." |
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| Kyle on Pente, a splittler line of hand jams. |
My first experience at Indian Creek was composed of a
multitude of Saturdays, an occasional Sunday, and rarely a Satur-unday. (If the above statement makes no sense use
the following to decode… a Monday spent climbing = Saturday, a Thursday spent
climbing = Saturday, a Sunday spent climbing = Saturday, a Tuesday spent resting
= Sunday, a Thursday spent resting = Sunday, etc. therefore Saturdays are days
spent thrashing on rocks, Sundays are spent leisurely relaxing and usually
drinking, and Satur-undays are spent doing a combination of both.)
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| Rest day run in Canyonlands National Park with Brian. |
Evenings in the creek were spent huddled around a campfire
sharing jokes, climbing adventures of the day, introductions, plans for the
following days, and simply good times.
If you weren’t sure which fire your friends ended up at while you were
making a hot drink it was simple to find some warmth by approaching a fire and
stating “Are you my friends?” It is a
full proof way of making friends because the response is always “we are now,
come hang out!” As we settled into the
everyday life and made fires of our own the faces around them changed; the
folks who welcomed us drifted away as old friends and new friends replaced
their spots and added their own presence.
Fire pits changed locations but the people that made up each one was
genuine and pure, before I knew it the guy on my right had climbed with a good
friend who just gave me a pair of shoes.
The populations surrounding the fires were all here to climb and learn
from each other, plus you can’t climb much at Indian Creek without shared gear (example I took 8 .75s up one climb with me).
So onto the climbing!
Before coming I asked a friend what the creek was like and this is what
I got “Honestly it’s the coolest place I’ve ever climbed. It’s a love, hate relationship. It just clicks after a few days of torture,
you will probably hate it at first but stick with it and you’ll fall in
love. It’s so gorgeous and serene out
there it’s hard not to be happy.” I
thought I understood the words at first but I had no idea how right she was, I’m
fairly certain truer words cannot be spoken.
My climbing goals for the creek were simple: Learn as much
as I could, hopefully learn how to crack climb, and try hard. I suppose I was successful in multiple ways:
I learned more than I could have expected, I think I learned how to crack climb,
and I tried so hard that I felt like I got my ass kicked on the regular. Most climbs went something like this…I would
go as fast as I could and try really hard, usually making progress anywhere
from 6 inches off the ground to 60 feet then I would get to a size that I got stuck at. I would try until I fell then look down and
ask “how do I do ringlocks? Or fists? Or what’s in between a hand and a fist? Or
bigger than teacups? Or walk me though the caterpillar again.” Then a large amount of struggling and
thrashing would occur, or whipping if it was the rare occasion I tried to
lead. Someone would ask me how I liked
the climb and I would reply simply “it’s amazing but I’ve never felt like I’ve
fought with a rock so much in my life.”
Upon making it to the top of the climb a smile would spread across my
face as the sweat dripped off my brow.
This was a fight worth continuing.
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| With Brett, a friend from Boone, after my first clean lead in the creek! |
Over the couple weeks the climbing remained strenuous but I
felt like I was catching on in lots of ways.
We made friends with “locals,” the ones who had been living in the
desert for months by this point; they knew where to go to avoid the weekend
crowds and had tons of useful tips for us gumby crack climbers. One in particular was better than a guidebook
and we ended up climbing with him frequently.
I say he is better than the guide because he knew all the best routes to
hop on and the correct gear to take up with you. If you couldn’t do it, he wouldn’t mind
giving it a try. When you asked about a
route you heard was stellar but hard for thin hands you could be assured that
he would remark “yea it’s pretty casual.”
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| Sam just keeping it casual on Middle Crack. |
Casual that’s the way the creek was. Everyone woke up when the sun warmed their
tent or van. Not once did I ask what the
grade of something was because as a female (a.k.a. one who doesn’t acquire the
average male-sized hand) the grades were absolutely arbitrary. Watches, and therefore time, was out of the
question because you can’t crack climb with a watch on, it just doesn’t work. Although the climbing may have been a bit
more casual for the well-traveled crack climber the days always had the
potential of being casual. The act of
climbing, personally, was never that casual but that would come with practice
and patience. Post climbing activities,
i.e. dinner and fires, were attended in the casual wear, a big puffy and a
headlamp. All in all Indian Creek was a
wonderful bubble where people are friendly and caring, we appreciate the beauty
of nature and are all lost in some way but trust in the path that is laid
before us. This place, this atmosphere,
and these people are one of a kind and something not to be missed.
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| Alix cruising up a splitter crack. |
If you're still reading this or it you just see these links, click on them to see a bit more why Indian Creek is so attractive to enjoy that takes the time to experience it...
A Desert Life
a short one on Indian Creek
A Desert Life
a short one on Indian Creek
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