Friday, April 29, 2011

Passion over frustration

Why is it that we work so hard to gain strength and stamina, strive to gain better technique and continually push to get better at climbing all to watch it get washed away in such a short time....

I recently had been climbing as hard and as well as I can remember, pushing my limits further than I ever have before. Until only 3 weeks ago when I needed surgery, nothing major, not climbing related, and now I feel weak, heavy and sluggish on the wall. Dejected after my first session back, I caught myself thinking, why do we lose everything we push and strive for in climbing so fast??? I mean, I haven't been out of climbing for all that long I still feel as strong as I did three weeks ago, what has happened in this short time?

I mean, being back on the wall felt great, the mind was willing, the body was not. My climbing trip too The America, is now only a month away, and I feel that I am a long way behind where I want to be before I leave. Four weeks is not that long to gain back everything I have seemed to have lost during my forced time away from the walls.

But It is the passion and excitement of my trip that will make me go back and lug my fat ass out the wall over and over again, trying to get back to where I want to be for when I leave. So begins the month long session that I call the pre trip workout, I want to be climbing well and feel strong on the wall, effortless in my movements. So help me out people, I want to be able to hear Raff willing me up a boulder problem in the Grampians, encouragement for afar...

Plus I want some people to come climb with me in the states... you know you want to have a climbing trip somewhere out west in June. perhaps its Colorado calling your name, Red Rocks, or Bishop... even Smith Rock. come one, come all. hit me up and have some fun.

I love you all and can't wait to climb with you again

Friday, April 22, 2011

Raff's Top 5...

Post Crag Indulgences

So I love doing Top 5's, have my whole life. I believe that everyone does, in some way you're always thinking of what your favorite movies are of all time, or books, meals, albums, songs, climbs, whatever. These lists may change from day to day, your favorite song may change with your mood or be affected by your daily activities. I understand they're completely biased but they're fun so here is the first of what I hope to be many Top 5's. Starting off with my Top 5 favorite indulgences post climbing. Until I find out how to make numbered lists count down instead of up, we're gonna start with my favorite and work our way down from there:

  1. Burritos - perfection in my opinion. All you would want in a conveniently portable wrap...oh so good! If you can find a burrito place close to the crag than it's a no brainer! It's bound to be good and immediate indulgence will always trump the wait accompanied with the long ride to your favorite parlor. Gyms tend to be in more populated areas with a wider variety of options. Might I suggest Ana's Taqueria in the Boston area or Natural Grocer's on the North Shore.
  2. Beer - eat a Clif Bar and then head to the closest watering hole! Now I know that alcohol isn't everyone's cup of tea, but you don't have to drink to share the experience of laughing over the days conquests or failures. To me, it's the social atmosphere that is provided accompanying the tall frosty IPA that stands before you. And more often than not, food is involved and welcomed.
  3. Pizza - I must say that this wasn't always on the Top 5, that is not until I visited Red River Gorge. If you've ever been, you know what I'm talking about...Miguel's. Amazing!!! There's nothing like picking from a menu of dozens of fresh ingredients, and they've got it all...I'm not kidding, you can have mac and cheese on your pie if you'd like. This does translate well to the rest of the world outside of Slade, KY. There will always be a pizza place close by and if you get super motivated, homemade pizza with friends is where it's at! 
  4. Coffee - getting your sweat on? Tired from putting yourself through the ringer for hours on end? Nothing will get you going again like a nice cup o' Joe! But seriously, I'm addicted to coffee and it's simple...hot weather climbing = Iced Coffee, cold weather climbing = Hot Coffee. You can't go wrong!
  5. Music - there are a lot of crags within an hour of Boston, not many provide the quality that comes with the hour plus ride. With this ride comes a lot of time to think about the day; the climbs, the people, the weather, the crag demon barking all day long, whatever. Nobody likes to do this in silence and most people are too wiped to hold a conversation that lasts more than 30 seconds, so in steps the music. Now you can get away with your iPod on shuffle or even Pandora, but nothing helps you during this intrinsic time than a well thought out playlist. Think it out, do you want to continue with the techno dubstep robot porn or take it down a notch and chill out in your own thoughts? Like most Top 5 lists, this can change day to day so it's good to have a couple of lists on stand by.
So there it is, the first of many Top 5's. I hope this gets you thinking about what you like to indulge in after a hard day at the crag. Please feel free to comment and let us know. You never know, it might make it on my top 5 one day...

Peace!

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Conquering your Fear over Gear

There is a small population of climbers that climb on traditional gear. Out of the many climbing disciplines, traditional climbing is often considered to be the purest form of protected ascent. Free climbing a route over trad gear always instills the feeling of purity in me. I could be the first person up this route, or I could be the millionth person up this route and the rock, the landscape, and Mother Nature would be none the wiser.

However, with trad ascents come the dangers of removable gear. How many trad climbers out there have placed a nut then moved and watched it wiggle out and drop down the rope. Suddenly, feeling the fear of being unprotected rushes back into your body like a forest fire, burning your muscles and panicking your mind. How many of you have placed a cam and thought, “Well shfuck it, I think that is going to tear right off the rock, just like a prom dress… gigity gigity!” I once placed a #3 Camalot in a fist crack and watched it un-cam all the way, until it became passive protection. I though to myself, as I realized that I didn’t have any bigger gear, “Well for the love of god, don’t fall now.” Realizing your gear is only temporary can be one of the scariest things a trad climber must face.



Conquering this fear becomes a new part of the climbing game. As you look down and see your last piece 40 feet below, you must suppress these fears; like the time you walked in on your parents and saw your father tied to the bedpost, wearing a ball gage, and screaming as your mother whipped him with a switch. What that didn’t happened to everyone? Forget that a fall from here would result in your body playing a horrible game of Plinko. WELL RODDY TELL THEM WHAT THEY HAVE WON!!!! You have won an exclusive stay at the hospital… yes, you will be confined to a body cast for the next 6 months because you slipped a foot. Trust in you abilities, pull through, and find that next piece of gear and relax. If you are lucky enough to be climbing at the Gunks, pray that the next horizontal accepts gear. I’m climbing… I’m climbing… look possible gear… nope this is flaring… I’m climbing… I’m climbing… yes another horizontal… shit I already used that piece… I’m climbing… wow I’m really run out. Welcome to the Gunks game where the grades are sandbagged and the gear is an experience. I was once climbing a route… I know great story right. No seriously listen. Someone from the route next to me yelled over to ask for a piece of gear. I looked below him to see that he was run out about 100 feet because he had forgotten to bring his nuts. I giggled with fear. Is danger like this warranted? What is so great about trad climbing vs. sport climbing?

Why not bolt everything? Why not make everything safe for everyone? The simple fact still remains that once a line is bolted it is forever altered, the purest form of ascent goes by the wayside, and the route loses its sense of adventure. Mother Nature is scarred and suddenly you feel as if you aren’t breaking new ground, but rather following in someone’s footsteps. Be an adventurer! Go the distance and make the ascent in the purest of styles. When you get to the top, rejoice, embrace nature, and feel alive.

Climbing over gear at your limit, while scary, can be the most rewarding of climbing experiences. I feel as if I never really climb at my limit while sport climbing. When I sport climb I feel no regrets in letting go of the rock. While trad climbing, the only way I’m letting go is if I physically can’t hold on a second longer. When I have exhausted all my resources and all I have left is muscles filled with lactic acid. That is the only moment I allow a fall, at total failure. Last weekend I climbed Directissima Direct. This route, an uber-super classic 5.9 at the Gunks, leads around a corner to a blind jug. Then up an arĂȘte to a crimpy overhanging crux above a rusty “Gunks” piton. This piton, the last piece of gear before the crux, will become your souvenir if you fall on it. From there it climbs the super exposed arĂȘte right under the high exposure ledge. At the crux, my body full of fatigue felt it had no more left. I screamed as I threw for the final crimp rail, hitting it with just the tips of my fingers. I immediately thought I was going to fall and that piton would be mine. As I felt my body sag away from the rock I realized that I might be able to hold the crimp. I dug in and bore down with all my might and my fingers stuck. I quickly matched the hold and fired up the final crimps quickly to the ledge above. Success!!!!! As I sat at the top of the climb my legs hanging over the ledge as I belayed for my second I felt a sense of accomplishment that will never be matched. I looked fear in the face and laughed. Raff’s post about the journey is totally true. The reward was good, but the experience of a hard, scary, and pure ascent is greater then that of any sport route.



So hats off to you trad climbers. Keep sending hard and keep our areas pure. If it can’t be sent in the style you desire, wait for another day, wait for a moment where you feel strong and the climb seems weak. Look fear in the face and deliver it a crushing blow. Send and be filled with the pride and glory that follows a trad ascent.

Crag Dog or Demon?

Take a look world, this is the world's worst crag dog...


This is Finlay, my dog, yes that's a climbing rope in her mouth and yes it's her favorite toy. I understand that some people have dogs that  they can bring out to the crag and hang out, be cute and not bother anyone. Well I'm not one of those people!! And my dog is not that dog! Yes she looks adorable, but make no mistake, Finlay is the one you hear in the distance barking while you're trying to pull the crux move on your project. You would be in the perfect mind set to make that move but my dog's dagger-like personal rants are piercing your brain making it impossible to focus. Why is she barking? Because her tree limb that she calls a throwing stick "happened" to roll past the point that her leash will allow (and when I say "happened" I mean she pushed it out of her reach to get the attention she wants).

Why is she leashed and not free to gallop in the woods like antelope roaming in the open plains? Three reasons:
  1. She will take the tree limb and drop it at your feet over and over and over again until you throw it. If you're bouldering, she'll drop it on your landing zone, while you're trying to top out. There's nothing better than hearing, "Whoa! Finlay no, get that out of there!!" while your legs are shaking pulling the lip on Ride the Lightning.
  2. She will find the nearest body of water, whether it is a 1 ft deep stagnant puddle 100yds away or a gushing river a mile away. Either way, she will come back up to 3 hours later covered in water, mud, and debris. And my time is spent yelling and hollering trying to find her during that time which as you can imagine, goes over well with the native climbers and my nerves. The look on her face when she decides to come back is similar to that of an out of breath slightly overweight adolescent that ran inside to tell his family that he found what he thinks is a dinosaur egg in his sandbox (which turns out to be the concrete drainage pipe)...I was so excited.
  3. If there is another dog anywhere in the vicinity, she will pick a fight with it. No lie, my dog is an asshole! She is awesome with people and I love her to death but the whole alpha female thing goes haywire at the site of a dog she doesn't know. If there were a market for Mexican Dog fights at climbing crags I would make a fortune!
I guess this is to educate those people who have dogs like mine. Please do not lead yourself to believe that your dog is awesome at the crag. If it shares ANY of the prior characteristics leave him/her/it at home and save everyone the frustration. Don't get me wrong, I love my dog and could not live without her...when I'm not climbing, but she makes climbing trips seem like punishments set on by the same parents that led you to believe that your "discovery" was a dinosaur egg...for a whole week! I'm still bitter, sorry. Anywho, if you see my dog out at the crag, I apologize ahead of time, I had no choice. And keep in mind, these are the eyes of a crag killer...


I love you Finlay...

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Why?

Why do we do it? Why do we constantly torture our bodies, straining them to the point of breaking (and sometimes beyond)? Why do we go back time and time again after getting shut down more than we succeed. Why do the Red Sox suck right now? Off topic, but why? I've thought about this more and more as I get older but it is inevitable, I will never stop climbing. It's an obsession and has been for some time. I went from a time when climbing revolved around my schedule to my schedule revolving around climbing.

Some people think it's about the send, the completion, the victory...the number. It may be, but it wasn't until just recently that I decided to focus my efforts on one climb, Pipe Dreams in Farley, MA. Some say V9, some V10, I say awesome!! Gorgeous line and it keeps me coming back for more. Week after week, I've been throwing myself at this wave-like overhanging feature, training in between sessions (a relatively new concept to me) in hopes of the glorious Sunday that I will take it down. Every week I've walked away bleeding, sore and battered...and more psyched than the week before.


Why is this the case? Why am I so psyched after 4 weeks and over 20 hours of physical beatings with no send? It's the small victories, the moves that I can do this week that I couldn't do last. It's the people that are there getting just as psyched while you're on the wall as if it was them going for gold. It's the feeling that next week, I'll be standing on the top of Pipe Dreams with a smile on my face, and if I'm not I'll keep climbing until I do. I feel this is one of the most important concepts that we sometimes lose site of. Climbing isn't all about the win, it's about the journey...but the win is nice.


So when you ask yourself why, just remember, it's because we love it, everything about it. The wins, the losses, the small victories, the people, the places, the burritos, the climbing, the downtime...all of it.

Monday, April 11, 2011

Monkey King

Check this out ... maybe we should all hit rock bottom if it means climbing like this.

Pay close attention at about 30 seconds in: Monkey King.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Feeling Gravitationally Challenged?

Last weekend, I went to another planet. Okay, I actually went to an electronic music festival in Miami but same difference. I spent several days dancing to face-melting tunes under the Florida sun. And even though my flight home was delayed, bringing me home at 4 am, I still managed to drag myself to Metrorock after a full day at the office. So really, I shouldn't have been surprised at all when I climbed like a lukewarm piece of spaghetti.


Yet my body's inability to pull hard still angered me. I was peeling off of problems that were supposed to be my warm-ups. My movements felt desperately uncoordinated and awkward. My ego was just as sore as my powerless fingers. And the more I got shut down, the more irritable I felt. I was gravitationally challenged.


By the end of my session I accepted my place in the up-and-down emotional cycle of climbing psyche. We all have days of normal strength, days where we feel like the Incredible Hulk, and days when we feel like we've just been partying in Miami all weekend.


So, how do you respond? You can brood and pout, or you can relish the opportunity to switch it up. Hop on some less intense climbs with fun movement, and focus on technique. Try some easy routes that you used to overlook on your way to your project. Cheer for your friends while they're on a climb.


If you're like me, you'll have to consciously remind yourself not to be a baby when you're having a weak day. Just cut yourself a nice big slice of humble pie and enjoy the ride.

The Climbing Experience down Drunk Drive

It is a well known fact… climbers love beer, wine, liquor, and all forms of the magic potion, ALCOHOL. When ever there is a social event where climbers gather, you can rest assure alcohol will be involved. At some point all climbers will feel the dreaded climbing hangover!!!!

We have all woken up and prayed to the porcelain god crying, oh why did I have to consume so much magic potion last evening, oh why did I ever think Jagerbombs were a good idea, oh shit I'm throwing up, but now I have to poop. This experience is quite a common one among college students from weekends past. Then there is the begging question, how am I going to climb today?!?!?



Inevitably, the weekend warriors biggest weakness can be the hangover, but for climbers this most likely will be the crux of you day. Fail and you will feel the shame of a wasted climbing day in a combination of your bed, the bathroom, and INDOORS . Rise to the occasion, fight your sickness back with coffee, food, exercise and fresh air, and be rewarded with a day of sending like no other. Cause face it everyday is different, its a different date, your a little bit older… common people keep up with me here.

The crux of the morning, getting out of bed.
This seems like the hardest part, but its only the beginning. As you rise to relieve your burdened balder you notice in your stupor… you are still intoxicated. This will lead to a difficult day. You manage to stumble back to your bed. Then a tiny beam of light erupting through your window catches your face and you remember that YOU MUST CLIMB TODAY! Back up, stumbling to your gear stash to pack your bag for the day, but first water. Fill a Nalgene and let at least 1L of water slide into your poison filled stomach. This is step one to recovery. Pack your gear and head for the kitchen. Second, orange juice is a necessity. It has a great amount of sugar to give you a boost of energy and send your body back to life, plus the extra hydration never hurts. Finally, I always choose to make coffee and a bagel. The stimulants in coffee reduce the 4 tons of Mach trucks that are rumbling through your head, and the bagel will give you some carbs for that approach that you are absolutely dreading. Now, here is the key, keep them down. You cannot, whatever you do throw up this set of ingredients, otherwise you will be doomed to a climb-less day.

The nauseating car ride.
Make sure your DD from last night is your driver. You might have to offer him/her sexual favors to get them to drive again, but lets face it, your going to spend the next few hours on the way to the crag trying your hardest to keep what you just ate inside your stomach, and not plaster it to the window next to you. Let someone else drive. If you can, consume more water here, and try to keep in your beer farts. I once drove 3.5 hours to the Gunks from Boston with my buddy blowing rancid PBR farts in my face. My eyes were watering so bad I almost crashed on multiple occasions. Honestly, after we climbed we got back to my car and it still smelled 8 hours later. We had to throw away all the food we brought with us. Beer farts, expensive and horrible.

The approach of DOOM.
When you arrive at the crag you should start to feel the wows of the alcohol begin to release their grip of climb repressing doom. Feeling a bit better before the approach is crucial to your upcoming day. Without this the approach will end you. The approach is going to feel like the Bataan Death March. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bataan_Death_March) When you sweat reeks of PBR and shame, that is when you know things are going well. You are stumbling up the trail, the Mach trucks in your head are driving around your skull like bears on motorcycles inside that metal ball at the circus. Just push through you are going to be ok. Then like an oasis in the desert, you reach the crag!


Once you reach the crag, there is always time for a quick crag nap.


The Climb of hope.
Consume more water and snack on some food now. This will be your final boost before the climbing begins. Make sure you take plenty of water with you for any multi-pitch events and climb!!!!!! After that first pitch you should feel as if the events of last night never happened. Feel the fresh air rush into your lungs as your pump increases, and send. Leave behind the bingeing and climb away your hangover!

You have just succeed where so many have failed. To quote Dean Potter, "… you change to worst scenario into the best scenario, dieing to flying." Climbing away a hangover, could there be a better cure?

Amazing Highs; Crushing Lows

Its amazing at how fast a night can be turned around in the climbing world... Today I decided, spur of the moment to head into the gym and hit up some good old fashioned top roping. Bouldering, for the moment, has not been at the forefront of my mind, as I am wanting to increase that good old endurance of the body, and not be tired after eight moves up the wall. I have also recently gotten on the sharp end of the rope, and gotten back into leading after a hiatus of about six or seven months. This new found excitement and passion for climbing has spurred me to get better in all realms of climbing, so that I can experience all facets when I make my way to the States again.


I have been setting some pretty nice routes in the gym in recent weeks. Climbs that have been challenging for me, helping me work on technique and endurance. Pleased with what has come about in the setting world, Tonight felt pretty good to get on and conquer some of these once and for all. I have gotten on them before, but was shut down by one, or a few moves. All these being areas that I see as weaker in my climbing.


So tonight was the night that it was going to happen. After warming up on about four or five climbs, ranging in difficulty, I was feeling good, to move onto the harder stuff that I wanted to get on. The first was a 22 or roughly 5.10d / 11a (for you American folk). Moving well through the climb, I got through my own Personal crux of the climb, a sneaky high step, hand match such and such, better than I had at any attempt before. The move, while not the actual crux of the climb I don't think, was the tough spot for me, and I was stoked to get it. It wasn't the first time I had got the move, as a week earlier I had got though it, but got so excited that I had made it, I rushed the next sequence and fell. However I composed myself enough at this attempt and worked through the rest of the climb without drama.


The energy level in me was rising and I was feeling really good, giving myself a few minutes to compose myself and settle down a little. The next climb I was attempting was one that I had been working for a few weeks, with just one move evading me. With a grade of 25ish (5.12a). To try and put and image in the heads of the reader, the move was a tough right arm lock off in a reasonable crimp, with a big full stretch reach into a off skew side pull on a negative angle with your left hand. Along with this you had to try and rotate ever so slightly into a drop knee on the left. probably a little hard to invisage, but I hope that you get the general idea. It was on, I gathered my thoughs and off I went. On all of the moves I felt super confident, working my way through them I reached my crux. Chalking up and trying to focus on remembering to breathe, a close friend on the wall next to me, gave me some helpful encouragement, waiting for me to make the move. I threw for the devilish crimping side pull, and at full stretch, managed to just latch it. getting what I call my 'Inner Sharma" on, I yelled aloud, willing myself to hold on. Getting this hold was exhilirating. Now I just had to get through the rest of the climb. My friend, was again there to give some words of wisdom, getting me to breath, take a slight rest, and the push through. The end of the climb went smoothly and I finished it up with that amazing final lunge to the top of the wall.


The amazing high of getting this climb, is understood by many climbers. The sense of accomplishment, happiness and exhiliration all rolled into one, had my adrenalin pumping...

Only to be brought down a few climbs later. The crushing low of an injury on the wall is also well know by all climbers. On a very slimple move to, and from, good holds, My knee said to me "ummm.... no thanks..." Falling off the wall I grabbed it, and signalled to be lowered down.


My high of getting my project climb had been taken from me, and what had replaced it was anger and sadness. Anger because it was a simple move on good holds, why would it happen then....? Sadness as I am now giving myself a two week break to let my knee recover a little..


It's very interesting going so quickly from one realm to another. Amazing Highs to Crushing Lows. Everyone has been there, and in their climbing career will probably be there again, all you can do really is put it all in perspective. Bummer about the knee, a few weeks and I will be back into it all. But wow... It felt so good, that amazing high, that sence of achievement.


From Down Under. much love from The Aussie

Monday, April 4, 2011

Firsts

There is a lot of pressure hanging on this first entry of mine for two reasons, a) it is the first post ever in the history of Kate Turcotte and b) it would be unfortunate if my first attempt at blogging frightened everyone away. What is it they say about first impressions and how crucial they are?? ... the red wine definitely helps.

This being a first for me and for you, the reader, it only seems appropriate to write about a first, and this being a climbing blog, naturally, it should be about climbing. So, I'll share with you my very first adventure on ropes outside.

A few things to have in mind before we get started.

a) This was by no means a climbing trip and we were by no means climbers.
b) I am not condoning my behavior. In this story, I'm the person I can't stand.
c) If it were a survival story, I would most certainly be the first to die.

My boyfriend and I were going to Coachella, a phenom music festival in Indio, California, that everyone should attend at least once in their lifetime. Having heard so much about climbing in Joshua Tree, and the fact that my boyfriend's name was Joshua, we decided to try our hands at climbing outside... you know, because it is so similar to the gym. So, we just show up, stroll into the visitor's center, take a quick peak at the climbing guide and figure we have it from there.

Now, if you've ever been to to J Tree, you know it is a barren, desert land with funny looking trees and peculiar, somehow spectacular angular rocks that seemingly fell from the sky... making it pretty blatant where the routes are.

So, with our memory serving as our only navigation, we find ourselves in a parking lot with a very large pile of rock droppings next to it. Our mindset getting out of the car was something along the lines of, "found a rock, it'll do." We start scrambling up these things like we're old pros, passing families left and right, confident we are way more fit and adventurous then they are. Not too much later, we near the top and start looking for bolts. After scoping out a few, we decide on one that looks doable and scramble up the rest of the way to set up a top rope.

We've never set up a top rope before... so we wing it. Forget equal distribution of weight, multiple points on, locking beaners, or opposite and opposing... none of it happened. We literally fed the rope through one bolt, fed it through to an estimated half way point and then chucked both ends off the top (Figure 1)... caution to the wind, right?














We tied in and had our way with the crack and some time later, we both had successfully finished our climbs (I didn't take once!). As naive and sloppy as it was of me, the feeling was unmistakable... ACHIEVEMENT, and it was exhilarating!

So, the big question... what did Josh and I actually get up? Well, it turned out to be Catch a Falling Star (http://bit.ly/hN4QC6) on Cap Rock, a popular 5.8 crack which we man-handled with little to no class or technique (I'm so glad there was no one else there to watch us do it). That was our only climb for the day... but, man did we bask in that glow for a while (Figure 2).

Figure 2.




Whenever I share this experience with others, I take pride in saying that my first outdoor climb was at J Tree... its almost prestigious in a way. I usually leave out the fact that any experienced climber would have ripped us a new one for our tomfoolery... but, I guess the cats out of the bag now.

I have yet to get back there and I am interested to see how it goes with some experience under my harness.... I'll let you know how it goes.

kt

Saturday, April 2, 2011

Is this love......that I'm feeling?

Why do I love her? To figure out this vexation I must return to whence our love affair first bloomed. The first spark ignited in 2003, our relationship took off as an unadulterated, pure octane, passion-fest of which I could not survive a day without. Sadly, when I graduated college in 2004, we became estranged, an occurrence brought on by the oblivion of indecision that entered my life. What to do with a degree in Broadcast Journalism and a minor in Spanish? I spent the next year building furniture with my father, opting not to use my degree to become a male lead for a Mexican soap opera. Fortunately, our passion rekindled in 2006, when I moved to Boston on a whim, and came crawling back to my baby begging forgiveness. She welcomed my return with open arms. We became even more serious when I began managing Metrorock in 2006 (after getting fired from Trader Joes, another tale in and of itself). Over the years our bond strengthened, yet the closer we got to one another, the more she'd hurt me. In 2007 she taught me how to be a leader, only to watch me fall hard, far and fast (lesson learned - leading slab = don't fall). The aftermath left me with a foot similar in shape to that of a hobbit and not climbing for four months.

As my fingers grew stronger she decided it was time they cease working. What at first was a painful tinge in my joints eventually left me unable to pull hard for what became a very long year. My body is constantly covered with the gashes and calluses she inflict upon me, leaving my knuckles looking like expired hamburger and my elbows and knees looking like those of a five year old learning to ride a bike. When I fatten up from some lapse of dedication she never lets me live it down, whispering dirty insults into my subconscious. "Hey lard ass, maybe you could hold that crimp if you stopped eating those Sasquatchian portions." During the moments I find myself close to the sought after climax of sending, she rips me away, sending me plummeting to the floor in a flurry of screams and chalk dust. When all is said and done these actions leave her colder than a porch stored winter PBR ("put down the beer faaaahttty"). Yet, like the snow chilled can, I grab on tight, embracing the electrified chill that courses through me. She's my lady, and she does it all in the name of love.

When it's good it's.....Oh Baby!.....RAWR......well you know......if I went into the juicy detail I may adulterate the pure minds of my more proper readers. We will just say its much like every song that the artist formerly known as Prince sang when he was known as Prince. The soul satisfying link we share creates moments of self clarity which are now as essential to my life as both air and water. Her presence cemented into the base of my Maslovian ladder. Through all the blood, sweat, and more blood I have gained so much that I am certain my love for her will burn on till the last flicker of light emits from my life's wick. The moments we share are among the snapshots of my life that I look back upon with the purest satisfaction. The times when I have spent days at odds with her; whispering, yelling, apologizing, bleeding, breathing, cursing, crying; finally to put it all together and join in a glorious culmination. The days spent basking in the sun, forgetting about our current argument and drinking in the potent splendor of the surroundings we are immersed in, thanking Mother Nature for allowing such times to pass. The nighttimes, when I join with friends and drink, gossiping like giddy schoolgirls over the tales of the woes and glories our loves have wrought upon us. The collection of memories such as these gives life meaning and brings welcome peace of mind.

Through her guidance I have been led to landscapes that are eternally etched into my memories. Roaming everywhere from the Dr Suess esque surroundings of Joshua Tree, to Kentucky’s rolling blue grass hills, and North to the thundering coastal beauty of Acadia National Park’s glorious granite shoreline. Through her I have forged friendships that, retrospectively, I could not live this life without. Fellow masochists that would agree with every word I have written thus far. My personal growth, both in body and mind, can be attributed to her guidance. I have learned of the limitations of power and the necessity of grace. Over time I have come to understand the necessity of breathing with purpose and focusing on the moment, both in life and with her. I now appreciate the beauty of the journey rather than my initial focus on completion/success alone. I owe all of this to her. She is the only Lady that has been there for me, no matter how clouded my countenance. When I need to escape from my troubles and woes, she pulls me into her warm embrace and whispers her love into my ear. Thank you climbing, I love you too you b*tch.

Friday, April 1, 2011

Chalk It Up!

I know what you're thinking...it doesn't exist. Or at the very least there is so much personal bias that is involved in the answer, nobody dares asks the questions in a group full of climbers. What is the best climbing chalk? Before I answer, let me begin by saying that I am a chalk fiend, my hands sweat as much if not more than the rest of my body which is, with no shame, more than the average human. At one point I co-found a not for profit organization called Sweat Hogs Anonymous (SHA)...so I know my chalk. And here it is....

But first, an insight as to why everyone has there own answer, and it is all over the board. It's like everything else in climbing. Everyone likes what they like, or should I say everyone is so stubborn that they won't try anything that someone else likes because they know better. And it crosses the spectrum; shoes, ropes, harnesses, crash pads, even chalk bags! Yeah! Chalk bags! They hold chalk! I used to use a doubled up grocery bag filled with chalk and it was fine...but Organic bags are the bomb...but anyways. Here it is...


That's right, straight up, uncut Magnesium Carbonate. These guys have been making chalk the same way since the 80's, and the package looks like it too! This stuff is sold online for $6/pound! Cheaper than any other alternative and it rocks. I've used every chalk that I could find and here is how it breaks down for me top five style:

5. Any chalk ball by any company (only good for throwing at people or chalking up slightly wet or greasy holds)
4. Bison Chalk - this shit feels like a mix of confectioners sugar and flour
3. Metolious Super Chalk - made some bad batches but majority of the time great
2. Black Diamond Chalk - sometimes hard to find and a bit more expensive but never lets you down
1. Deary's 80's Chalk - cheap, straight-up chalk! It's the PBR of climbing chalk (you know you love it)

So there it is, take it for what it is and do what you will. Chances are you're going to stick with what you use because, well...you're a climber. I get it! But this chalk rocks and in case you stray from the stubborn side of yourself that swears that "Bison/Metolius/Black Diamond is the best ever made, hands down!" give them a shot...

http://www.gymsupply.com/

Long live SHA!