Yesterday I woke up on the wrong side of the bed. It was one of those days where you rather stay at home then go to the crag. I was feeling upset. I was unable to focus and be gentle with myself. Conditions were so bad, warm and humid as always. For the first time since I arrived in Smith Rocks I climbed like shit. l slipped a lot and got my ass kicked on every single route I tried.
One of the reasons why I choose to spend such a big part of my life outside rock climbing is because there is no bad day at the cliff. Yesterday I didn’t climb as good as I wanted, but all my friends did which was great! They gave it their all, climbed well and focused and some sent their projects.
Since my first day here I feel very good. I’m calm and precise in my climbing and I trust my feet. I feel comfortable with the people surrounding me and I simply appreciate the smart climbing community of Smith Rock and Bend. I haven’t felt this way in a while, especially in sport climbing.
I love Smith Rocks because it reminds me of multipitch climbing. Every single line is so demanding and simply beautiful. To me, it doesn’t matter if I’m climbing a 5.12, 13 or 14, I have to be 100% focused. You need to trust in yourself, your partner and you have to give your best in every single route.
The first ten days I felt like a kid playing in a new playground. I climbed all the eye catching lines, lots of cracks and outstanding aretes like Spank the Monkey on the Monkey Face. Then the time came to try To Bolt or Not to Be.
The first time I climbed the line, it took me two hours to clip the anchor. I wasn’t able to do all the moves, it felt way too hard. Local people told me that To Bolt is one of the most condition dependent routes anywhere. Despite the bad conditions, I tried it two more times. Result, I was unable to hold on to the razor sharp holds. Especially at bolt nine there is a place where I was simply unable to do two moves. I felt to weak to climb the route, but I was blown away by the complexity of the movements, the 200 footholds to remember and of it’s simple beauty. I felt super lucky by the fact that I had the chance to climb on this historical route at least once in my life.
Later on the trip I had some interesting discussions about the different ways of approaching a route. The system teaches us that a good climber should climb hard routes in as few tries possible. Personally I grew up in the mountains, so the more time I spent outside in the mountains climbing in a route, the happier I was. Making our way up to the summit was the main goal, by climbing, aiding, holing or whatever. And if we were to weak, we had to rappel down, logic.
So for me when I go climbing, I start at the bottom and I try to make my way up to the top. Stick clipping up a route or Top roping is not an option. I love the process, the suffering, dealing with my fear and the unknown. I love to discover a route on my own and I also like to give up sometimes and try another day. I don’t want to blame people who top rope because they’re really afraid to fall. I also do not blame people for clipping the first bolt because they don’t want to break their ankle. But I can’t understand why people stick clip or top rope to save time and energy. Why do we want to take so many shortcuts and reduce the experience to a simple climb? Just to make another cross on our tick list and move on to another line to make a quick ascent? I doubt these ascents are the ones that will stay in our memories for forever. Where is the sense of adventure and excitement that makes us feel alive?
Then there was this one day… this day where it was super windy and dry, like it has never been since we arrived. I gave myself one more chance on To Bolt, just to see if conditions had for real a big impact on this route. To be honest, I simply crushed that thing. I danced my way up to famous bolt nine and there I tried to make something but I failed because I simply had no plan for this section. Second try I crushed again and fell off at the same place I did the try before. I did a mini-mini error which cost me my send. Back on the ground I almost cried, not because of the holes in fingertips, but because I was so happy. My friend Charlotte, which was there from the beginning, was stoked. We both had a big smile on our faces and I felt her big compassion. Send or not, this route is definitely worth trying.
Well, at the end all I wanted to say is that topping out a route is a difficult thing when it’s at your very limit. In my opinion, sending is only a little piece of the full experience of climbing. To me, the more this process is combined with adventure, the more I feel a permanent excitement. And living for adventure is always my priority and something we will remember your whole life, even for a 40m piece of rock.
Photos: Jason Bagby