A Legend of the Fall

You never know it's going to happen, it just does. You're never expecting the few seconds of horror that pairs with that moment of pure panic occasionally followed by a flash of red that can only be associated with pain. It's happened to us all, or at least we've seen in happen to someone right in front of us. And if it hasn't happened to you yet, make no mistake, it will. You can't avoid it. It's inevitable and in some situations the best thing that could happen. Let me explain...

THE INEVITABLE

The moment your feet leave the ground is like any other, whether it's a warm-up or an onsight attempt of your latest project. Your feet and hands could be moving fluidly, your mind may be focused and clear, but then something goes wrong. Perhaps the lactic acid begins to creep it's way into the capillaries of your forearms. Or maybe a hold gives way without warning. Or just maybe you're a boss throwing down on a V12 that climaxes at a horizontal low percentage deadpoint to a slopey volcanoesque hueco.

No matter what the cause, the inevitable happens. You fall.......hard. This of course looks a little something like this...

THE AFTERMATH

Your eyes open only to see a crowd of scantily dressed chalky climbers. Half of them are smiling for some reason and the other half have a grimace that only solidifies their personal choice not to try the same problem. One brave patron eventually musters up the gaul to ask, "You alright dude?" Your immediate reaction is not to move slow and make sure that all Tab A's are still connected to the appropriate Slot B's, instead you jump up saying the obligatory, "I'm ok!" and immediately start chalking up looking for the nearest stick brush lying around. As you stand up, holding the stick brush as if your name was Gandalf, you don't pay attention to the creaks associated with the jammed shoulder that occurred on impact. The crash landing that caused your elbow to hit the floor shifting your shoulder 4 inches further than the norm, hitting you in the head above your ear. With a quick brushing and a 30 second stare down of the problem, you go straight into send mode. This rush of adrenaline from a quick trip to the deck seems to have you more focused than ever.

THE OUTCOME

Everything else seems to disappear as you go through your normal routine of rubbing your hands together three times in a sidewards slapping motion. You blow the remainder of white powder off your tips, slap your thigh and hear the scratch of nails on the concrete as you curl your pads over the two crimp starting holds. One audible breath out and you're on:

Drop your knee and flag; your body feels perfectly balanced even though in some deep cavern of your mind some pain receptor is screaming at you because you tweaked a tendon. Keep the tension as you hit the first left hand gaston and focus everything on that left toe keeping you from the barndoor swing that's blown you off of the first move dozens of times before. Your right foot seems to find the minuscule nub as if some magnetic force pulled your toe onto the perfect spot. As your brain focuses on getting your right hand as high above the huge sloper looming 18 inches above, your muscle memory kicks in, turns your toe slightly in and drops the knee 3 degrees, somehow knowing that this is what it takes to not blow that toe. With a loud thud and a puff of chalk your right hand sticks the large Nicros brain and feels solid. This is the first time you haven't had to readjust to find that slight indent close to the wall that half of your pad can gain a little more on. Your knee readjusts back in the other direction 3 degrees as your left foot flags like the pendulum of an old grandfather clock frozen in time. Effortlessly, your left hand joins your right and your brain flashes to "the fall." A momentary lapse of focus courses through your brain as the throbbing spot above your ear reminds you that it was only moments ago.

A shake of the head and you snap back to the moment, relax and straighten your arms only as much as gravity will allow. With another audible breath your eyes drift down as your left foot gently finds the crimp start hold and digs in. A perfect blend of momentum and balance starts your journey to the end. You feel your left foot come off the crimp, your right hand off that slight imperfection on the sloper and suddenly you have tunnel vision towards the finish. Don't forget when you stick your right hand your remaining foot is going to cut and your left hand needs to slide to the right to make use of that imperfection. Your right hand is inches away and the sudden feeling of weightlessness as your right toe becomes insignificant. FOCUS!! Your hand is there and it knows what to do, now look back. You watch your left hand slide into place and you know that any second now you'll have to summon all of your strength to hold this. You tense up as you feel both feet drift to the right of your center. As this is happening you watch as your left hand grips tight, and then tighter, and then snaps into the shape of a fist as it blows off of the hold. It's happening again, quick do something! You know if your foot so much as grazes the wall, it will shift your momentum out immediately causing your right hand to pop. Your feet drift further to the right and you scream, not because there is pain, not because you're angry that your hand didn't follow the plan, but because the willpower to hold a one handed campus on a slick hueco as your body flails is going to take all you can muster. You're body remembers the exact moment that your right hand slipped out sending you hurling towards the ground. That moment passes as your legs have reached their apex. You're left hand is still reaching for that sloper knowing that at any moment, gravity will play its part and shift your momentum. All you have to do is hold on. The scream continues...

In a flash your left hand is back on the sloper, no time to be surprised, your foot finds the wall instinctually to keep you from looking like a vertical pancake. Your body settles into place and for an instant your shoulder reminds you of your epic impact moments ago. You keep your composure and find that left foot and let out a shout. In your mind this shout is a combination of relief, pain, joy, and an element of surprise. To the crowd, that seconds ago was secretly hoping that they would see some air time, it is a cry of triumph. You could've called it a day when you scraped yourself off the mat. You could've gathered the small amount of pride necessary, using one of a million climber excuses, but it was the fall that drove you. The fall that kept your senses on point and focused. The fall that reminded you of where you need a little bit more. In a way, the fall is what makes you that much better.

Be Gentle It's My First Time...

We all remember our first time, the awkwardness, the pain, and the confusion.  Thoughts of; am I doing this right, is my partner gonna laugh at me, why has it ended so soon.  My first time was awful, I used all these grunts and power when some delicate finesse would have sufficed.  I'm sure through the looking glass of memory it has only gotten worse, but I am certain I was sweating like a fat guy in a leather recliner while breathing as heavy as a horse.  Obviously, I'm not talking about my "first time" nor am I talking about my first time climbing, but instead this post is about the first time I knew I was a climber.

While trying to start homework tonight, I followed my usual protocol of deadpoint, twitter and facebook.  During my facebook stalking I discovered a climbing video.  Now this is nothing unusual on facebook, with most of my friends being climbers and usually posting video/blogs etc.  What made this different was the video itself.  This video was pre-digital photography, pre-windows movie maker, final cut, and cell phone video cameras.  This video is 9 years old and shot by my friend Chris.  It is a full length bouldering video made using Clemson University's liberal lending policy on media equipment.  It stars my first group of climbing friends, myself and A.J.  Check it out here: Rumbling Bald

After the hilarity and the wonderful memories of friends and good times this video brought back, I began to think about my early days in climbing.  I climbed v3/5.11a for a better part of my first three years and could never seem to overcome that grade.  I switched between ropes and bouldering without regards to a preference.  Basically, this is an old man sitting back in his chair telling his grandkids about the good old days when I used to "climb for fun."  Truthfully, it was the innocence of my climbing youth, I lived just to climb and I didn't care how hard, how tall or how new the climbs were, I just wanted to climb because it gave me that funny feeling in my tummy.  Shortly after sending my first v5 I moved to California to participate in AmeriCorps, while there I stopped climbing for a full year.  The Corps ended and I moved back East.  I settled into my old climbing life, the only thing that changed was my climbing partner had jumped five grades in my absence.  I set it in my mind that I had to catch him, I took the plunge from hanging at the gym, to training at the gym, from climbing for fun to climbing for the numbers.  My former plateau of v3 took a week to over come, then v5 a day, within six months I had gone from not climbing to climbing v8.  That was when my climbing youth died.  To William Blake I entered into the age of Experience.

I have been training for harder and harder sends every fall since then.  August starts and I draw up a training scheme.  Week nights I tear muscles over and over again looking to stretch and tear them again the next night.  I turn away from friends having fun at the gym and I turn down dates to do pull up workouts.  On the weekends I let my frustrations and aggression explode onto boulder problems, because I have gentrified myself into only bouldering during the winter/fall/spring, "ropes are for the summer."  Climbing has evolved from the fun past time of chilling with friends in the woods, to the passionate dysfunctional embrace of loving a thing that can't love me back.

This video has me wondering, when did I become a climber?  Was it during my innocence or my experience?  I look back to that day when I first started adding pull up workouts to my climbing, I try to look back to the one day before, to the day before that and decide, when did I first feel like a climber?  When did I know that no other word would describe me?  I cannot remember that day occurring before the training precipice was crossed.  I was back to climbing after a full year off and knew I was never leaving it again.  The moment came while sitting on top of a boulder at Rumbling Bald, in western North Carolina.  I had just sent a problem called Shao Lin, it was my first v7.  I was looking towards the sun setting behind the purple mountains of the Appalachians, the leaves were all gone, but there were still some red's and orange's on the ground.  I was breathing hard, sweating, my hands were on fire, but I had done it.  I had climbed one grade harder.  For better or worse my climber identity was born from pushing myself to the next level.

Dark Horse - Part One (Foreplay on Film)

The week leading up to Dark Horse was like any other, setting, setting, more setting, tweaking, setting...but oh wait...FILMING?! We threw in another little monkey wrench to our well lubed machine. We wanted to produce a short promo video for every day leading up to the Dark Horse! That's five awesome videos...we made two. However, it wasn't for a lack of trying, it was a huge learning experience for me on both the creative and production side of Less Than Sponsored. I was up until 1:30a on the first two mornings to make sure the videos got out daily. You throw in 10 hour days of setting, forerunning, and taking care of logistics for the biggest comp we've ever put on and you quickly realize how difficult that goal truly is. Our eyes were bigger than our stomachs as they say, and our plates were stacked full of delicious goodies. The two videos that we released I thought were great! However time reared it's ugly head, spit in my eyes, and slapped reality back into my brain. We needed more time...time that we did not have. So the first two videos were released and we all got back to focusing on making the Dark Horse Championship what it eventually became, the best comp we've held hands down!

None the less, here are the two videos that were produced in the week leading up to the DH Championship:

This first one named "Shocking" I had mapped out in my head for about a month (something I should've done for the others). The idea came to be when Dave Wetmore pointed out that shuffling your feet around like a mad man on the gym floors can produce enough static charge to jump start a Chevy. The build up is ridiculous, I know, but it all came together with Dave's amazing faces and the static shock (real by the way) that makes me chuckle. The Danger Nate mini-series at the end was an idea that I had that paired along nicely with both videos. It took a bit to convince him to douse himself with freezing cold water while half-naked on film. When I pulled the kid's large Star Wars swim trunks out of the Target bag, Nate's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. He was "all in" and magic was made...in the shower...half naked...

The second, "Nightmare," was exciting for me. I loved the idea of having a horror-filmesque feel to the video. The challenge was to tie it into the Dark Horse which we barely did. Looking back, I wish that we had done a little bit more, but Tuesday was crunch day for setting and tweaking finals so what you see is what you get. We all loved the idea of having it be a joke and Nate getting "punished" at the end. I did have footage of VZ and Boof torturing the gorilla after trying to scare them but I thought it was a bit over the top so I left it out and went a little less Pulp Fiction for the masses.

I do apologize for the absence of the remaining three videos. I may have been more excited about making these videos than I was about setting for the Dark Horse so believe me when I say that it was a heartbreaking decision for me. Hindsight does allow for better decisions in the future however, and next year the idea is to make the videos ahead of time and release them one a day on the week before. Wait...what? That actually makes sense!!!! Hey, nobody ever said we were the smartest crew in the world.

Climbing Friends...

On Super Bowl Sunday I was laying on the floor of my bathroom in the fetal position.  I had just thrown up for the fourth time that day.  To say I was having and introspective moment would be a lie, I was simply praying for a swift death.  I did my mini walk of shame past my functioning friends who were laughing and having a great Sunday afternoon only to crawl back into bed.  A few hours of awful sleep passed and I was woken up by one of my best friends, Stephen and his wonderful girlfriend.  They were heading home and were giving me a hug good-bye.  I mumbled some form of apology, received their hug and flung myself horizontal for fear of the world tilting the wrong way.  "Don't worry we've left him like this before, this is nothing new," said Stephen about my condition.  I drifted back to sleep and they flew back home to Portland.  I woke a few more hours later and let my mind flash back to a few similar moments of extreme hungoverness:

The time I threw up in the van in Maryland following ABS nationals.  The time I threw up blood after the February Fallout in Atlanta (we had used a shopping cart for our liquor needs that night!).  My inability to move from my bed following the Jello Shots bouldering competition in college.  I had a good laugh at all of my misfortunes from drinking and then thought about the uniting factor, they were all with my best friends who are also climbers.  Which led me to the most important math equation of all time: climbing friends = the best friends.

For the last eleven years I have dedicated most weekends to climbing projects, climbing road trips, and climbing competitions.  All of these have been with my climbing friends and all of these weekends have ended in so many memorable moments that I can barely remember half of them.  I have been with climbing friends on Christmas day in the middle of the Texas desert as we battled boulder problems.  I have been with climbing friends in a crowded gym on a beautiful Saturday because we are fierce competitors.  I have been with climbing friends on a Tuesday night salivating over the recent release from Sender or Big Up.  Climbing has ended jobs, relationships, old friendships and the structural intergrity of my shoulders and wrists, but it has given me my best friends.  Why are climbers such good friends?

We understand the obsession.  How many times in our lives have we walked into a party had a co-worker say something to the affect of "I hear you are a rock climber."  Which then translates into you explaining climbing for the next five minutes all while they continually refer to the "dangers of mountain climbing."  Climbers understand, they get it.  They know that it is not about the numbers but are excited when their friends sends a grade higher.  They know that the weekend was designed for projects and that it is okay to spend more money on gear than dinner.  All climbers no matter the age, level or profession would all rather be climbing.

Climbing friends share a unique bond in that we have all tasted a small sliver of deaths cold desert.  Some of us have had very serious injuries from climbing, others are lucky and have taken nasty whips or falls and laughed off the minor scrapes.  Either the serious or the routine, a fall in climbing triggers something in the back of our brain that mentally prepares us for the end.  Most times we are not aware of it and most big falls result in a few choice words directed at a spotter or belayer.  However, our subconscious understands and holds on tight to the joy that is life.  This knowledge separates climbers because we now know that death is a mere nano second of wrong decisions away.  To me, this makes climbers better friends because we understand how precious life is, we fully understand the joy of one life to live.

Because of the ability to know death and embrace an obsession climbing friends have an energy that carries them through all parts of life.  Parties thrown by climbers always seem to be louder and more boisterous.  Plus they usually end up in some form of shirtless feat of strength contest.  My climbing friends carry their energy into other passions as well from painting to woodworking to writing.  They know how to throw themselves into everything they do.  This vitality also leads to a state of mind for most climbers.  Check a climbers lunch box and it is nine times out of ten filled with some form of organic food.  My climber friends sign up for trail clean ups and donate heavily to access fund, world wildlife fund and the nature conservancy.  They contribute in because they know first hand how precious the earth is to all of us.

We as climbers overcome challenges for fun, we celebrate other's accomplishments and we are there when they fail.  We live in a microcosm of the larger world every time we step onto a climb.  We understand that pushing yourself is important while accepting your own abilities is just as necessary.  We strive for more while appreciating what we have.  In life I am friend first and a climber second, but my climbing friends allow me that opportunity to combine the two and be who I truly am.

Then there was One...

I have one distinct advantage in the Dark Horse Bouldering Series, it’s hosted at the gym where I am a member; Metro Rock Everett.  Outside of this, I don’t pull v15, I don’t have sponsorships paying my bills, all I have is the home territory.  Now, I don’t get to see the routes before they are constructed, and the setters do a great job of thwarting my attempts to secretly gain beta.  However, this has given me one unique opportunity, I knew the list of the big names coming before they were released in Josh and Dave’s hilarious video.  Who's Coming?  The list is stacked, so stacked that according to my calculation only one spot is available for us non-pros.

 Seeds of doubt can raise hell on a competitors psyche.  A shoulder can feel tweaked, leaving them wondering if it will withstand the rigors of both a qualifiers and a finals in one day.  A shitty time at work can leave a competitor with bad karma.  Knives become an obstacle to be completely avoided at all times.  I mean who wants to not be able to climb because their finger got dismembered from cutting carrots.  (I distinctly remember the awful feeling of watching the knife slice deep into my thumb instead of the orange I was cutting, this was two days before the final leg of the Triple Crown)  What really weighs heavily on this competitor’s mind is the fact there is so much talent coming to this competition that there is just that one spot.  One spot to make it to finals in open.  One spot where I could hear my name boom from Raff’s mic, to step out in front of a crowd and feel their energy hype me up the wall.  Now that weighs heavy on my mind.

Each pull up of training was followed by the thought, is this enough?  Each campus section was finished with, what is my competition doing?  Now I know Daniel Woods and Carlo Traversi are in a league all their own.  They are the Tom Brady’s, Michael Phelps, and LeBron James of rock climbing.  They make the rest of us mortals seem like kids wandering in off the streets looking for gym shoes and a belay lesson.  Simply put they crush.  Coming back to that one spot, the one spot not filled with a professional bad ass the competition really lies thick with the next big things, has beens, and the guy who can get lucky once in a while.  This Dark Horse will be a competition between the pro’s battling out with futuristic power and a secondary competition of the one mortal who is lucky enough to compete with them.  I can count at least ten people I know who will be in the qualifiers who can beat me, but I can also beat them.  This of course excludes the surprise, the proverbial dark horse who comes in and crushes nasty style! 

At times it weighs heavy like lead filled shoes in a swimming pool.  Other times, I laugh and think how lucky I am to know that I could possibly compete against the pros.  Mainly though the gym is where the thoughts come gushing out.  They sweat through my chalk filled hands during my 4x4’s.  They seep through my shirt as I feel the rush of gravity pull me off a plastic project.  They are spoken about in front of me with slaps on the back saying “don’t worry, you’ve got it.”  But I do worry, what if I don’t got it.  Obviously it is one comp and the world will move on, but will I?  Will this be the final nail in my elite climber coffin or will it be the first step towards a brighter spotlight? 

Only time will tell who will fill the one spot…