A bit of intro: I've been getting into rock climbing during the last 3 months or so, and have been loving it a lot, but until this weekend, all my rock climbing had been indoors. On Saturday, I went outdoor rock climbing for the first time (well, since a summer camp when I was 12).
Now, I am always fascinated by sports in which people do things that are really, really unnatural. Like climbing up 8000-meter peaks, or diving 200 meters below the surface of the ocean without an external breathing apparatus (see: competitive apnea, blog post from a couple weeks ago). Humans are just not built for that sort of thing! Thus, naturally, I am fascinated by outdoor rock climbing. Yesterday I climbed up a vertical cliff face! How could that not be awesome??
Look at this. Think about it. :)
Saturday's trip was lead by an acquaintance named Angela, who made me get up at 5:30am so we could get an early start. We went with four guys who found out about the trip through MIT's outdoors club. We went to a secretive rock climbing location on private grounds, but I'm not allowed to post the name online or else word will get out and the location will be swarmed by Canadians! Let us call the location X.
We parked our cars, took a short hike to a rock face, and started setting up. A few people who knew how to "lead climb" (basically, the way you set up ropes that aren't already attached to the top of the wall) started setting up the ropes, so that when they were done there were ropes attached like this:
Then I got to start climbing.
I can't avoid talking about the difficulty rating system for vertical rock climbing at this point. Vertical climbs are given ratings as a five followed by a number indicating difficulty. 5.3 and 5.4 are on the easiest side of things, and the absolute hardest stuff in the world is something like a 5.15, but pretty much no one can actually climb that. After climbing for 3 months, I'm climbing 5.8s, and the more experienced people I climb with do 5.10s and 5.11s. Outdoor 5.8s and indoor 5.8s can be kind of different though; many people find the outdoor climbs more difficult.
So, I started off by trying a 5.8 outside at Location X, and I failed miserably. It didn't seem like there were good handholds anywhere, and I just couldn't get over this lip of rock. So I hung around a bit, rested my arms, and went over to try a wimpy little 5.4. 5.4s are the climbs that pretty much everyone should be able to do: the wimpiest of the wimpy.
I got roped up and then spent about a minute just trying to figure out how to get onto the wall. After that, the climbing was fairly smooth, but the handholds still felt bad, and I felt like the climb was still difficult enough to be pretty interesting. And this was just a 5.4.
Thoroughly disheartened, I went back to my backpack and ate lunch. I had failed at the 5.8 terribly, and the 5.4 hadn't been a breeze. I thought I'd have to re-learn how to climb and spend months just learning how to climb 5.8s again outdoors.
After lunch and a period of contemplation, I decided to try climbing a "crack" or "chimney" (not technically the same thing, but both words applied to this climb). A chimney is something like this, where you have some rock behind you as well as in front of you:
The chimney climb was rated a 5.7, three levels up from the previous climb, but I do like chimneys, so I gave it a go. Amazingly, I got up it without trouble or hesitation, and got all the way to the top of an 80-foot cliff face! It was maybe even easier than the 5.4 for me. Awesome, I could still climb some stuff! I was very excited.
At this point, my legs were also scratched and bruised up, and I was covered in dirt. Dirt even managed to get down my shirt. There was dirt everywhere, but I had managed to climb a 5.7 without trouble, so I was happy.
Near the end of the day, I decided that I had gotten enough used to outdoor handholds (see the Lessons Learned section) that I would try that pesky 5.8 again. I got Angela to belay me ("belay" roughly means "deal with the ropes so I don't die"), because she is amazing at belaying and definitely knows what she is doing.
This 5.8 climb involved so much effort and bruising and cursing that I will talk about my battle with the rock in a bit of detail. If you already think I'm too obsessed and am rambling on...well, rock climbing is awesome. You'll just have to try it and see for yourself. Then you will sound like me!
I climbed up to that troublesome part that had been giving me trouble earlier, and gave it a try. I fell, but went to try it again. On the second try, I got a bit closer, but fell again. My arms and fingers felt tired, but Angela was giving me encouragement from below, so I went for it a third time. I got so close that I could feel my next good handhold on the tips of my fingers -- I was so close! I fell again, and my fingers were really giving out. It was aggravating how close I had been. I tried once more, and finally finally finally got my left hand around a great handhold and got myself up above the overhanging lip! I was yelling in triumph at the rock and at Angela and at myself.
I climbed on, through a section of the cliff that, while not easy, was still easier than getting over the lip. Then, before I knew it, I was at the second hard part of the climb. The next tough move involved jamming my left hand into a vertical crack, then getting the tips of my right fingers into an "undercling." An undercling is a move where your fingers are below your palm, sort of like this person's right hand:
Except the undercling I had to use was above my head, and just my fingertips. I jammed my right fingertips into the undercling, worked my feet up as high as I could, and tried to fling my left hand over the ledge above me to find a handhold. Predictably, I fell again.
At this point, I was so close to the top of the 80-foot cliff that I refused to let myself fail. Following Angela's coaching and encouragement from 70 feet below me, I tried another time or two, and finally got myself into a semi-stable state in which I was hanging from a ledge. There were some mediocre handholds up above the ledge, but nothing great. Angela was yelling, "You just gotta swing one of your legs over! I find that in times like this, yelling helps!"
I spent a minute exploring my handhold options, chose one, and swung my right leg over the ledge. I was, at this point, desperately clinging to the rock with my left hand and trying to get balanced over my right leg, which was up on the level of my chest. I was heavily exerting myself, so I took Angela's advice: I started yelling. I was yelling because sometimes, when you expend massive amounts of effort, you just gotta yell. I was yelling and the rock was yelling back at me and I was yelling some more, and then I finally got up onto the ledge!
I was celebrating already. I climbed the remaining 10 feet or so up to the top, tagged the carabiners holding my rope in place, told Angela to take in the slack, and then just sat back in the rope for a minute or two, basking in the view. There were tree-covered hills above a few small houses, and a placid river. Finally, I got lowered back down to the ground.
I was really happy with the climb, and it was a great end to the day. I could really say that I have climbed 5.8s both indoors and outdoors. I also noticed that I have finally reached a point where I'm not the worst climber on the rock. A couple of the guys with us didn't make it up that 5.8, so I must be improving. Improvement is inspirational.
Well, the forecast called for dry weather until 4pm, and at 4pm on the dot, the skies opened up. We packed up our gear, hiked back to the cars, and left the mysterious Location X.
Lessons Learned
Outdoor rock climbing is very different from indoor rock climbing! In particular:
- Outdoor climbing is dirty! Ledges get dirt accumulation, and when you use the ledges as handholds, the dirt spills down over your arms, into your hair, down your shirt, and everywhere.
- Outdoor climbing is full of bugs that taunt you and flaunt their superior climbing abilities. Spiders can climb up that 5.8 like it's nothing.
- Outdoor handholds feel like crap until you get to know them. They aren't nice, big pockets like you get in the gym. However, they have more friction than indoor handholds, so handholds that initially feel terrible get better once you get used to them. Trust the friction.
- Same goes for footholds: you can use very small footholds on natural rock because the whole cliff is generally covered in friction.
- Outdoor climbing gets you covered in many more scratches and bruises than indoor climbing, so you end up looking like you're an abuse victim who got in a fight with a cat with pointy claws. But it's okay; adrenaline is a great thing. When you're up on the wall, you don't feel anything. Your mind asks you, "Are you going to pay attention to that scratch, or are you going to concentrate on not falling off the cliff? Pay attention to the cliff!"
- Outdoor climbing is tough, but very rewarding and fun, not to mention surreal. It's very strange to walk up to a cliff, think "wow, that's vertical," and then climb up it.
No comments:
Post a Comment