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 arête 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 arête 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.
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