Initiated

I was hangdogging. 

Both of my feet smeared in narrow stem stance, my knees were dropped inward and my back was arched to avoid the bulge of rock in my face.  My right hand stretched out on a slopping hold that was just barely keeping my body from peeling off of the wall while my left hand was reaching up for a small incut just a few inches from my fingertips.  I worked my left foot up and dropped my knee further to gain some height, knowing that even if I got to the hold I probably couldn’t pull myself up on it.  I managed to reach it, called for my partner to pull in the slack, and hung.  This was second attempt at this route, its long and reachy moves on a steep face with very few positive holds and almost no feet was kicking my ass.   A few more starts and pauses and I had managed to clear the crux start.  The pump from climbing like poison in my forearms, my fingers felt shredded and cold. 

I missed rock climbing.  I missed the smell of stone and dirt.  I missed being outside without having to wear two jackets and swap gloves between climbs and belays.  I missed the warmth of the sun.  I missed working up an honest sweat and having a breeze cool me off.  I missed the feeling of rock, its unforgiving hardness and gritty texture.  I missed looking up at a route and imagining sequences and positions.  It had been a long four months of winter.  Ice Climbing is a definitely something I enjoy.  Gym Climbing, eh…not so much.  My true love of climbing has and always will be on good old honest rock.

Along with it being my first time out this year, it was also my friend Laurie’s first time climbing outside.  I had brought Laurie along with me on my unsuccessful attempt to climb the New Year Wall a few months back, so I had been carrying around this burden of guilt to get this girl a chance to climb.  We had a short day, only climbing a couple of routes at The Bullet Crag.  But given the challenging nature of these boulder-like Toprope climbs, we managed to have a decent day in terms of physical exertion.  Temps were in the low 60s and the sun was shining bright.  It was a bit chilly when we started as we were shaded from the sun (and the rock was very cold at first) but by the time we left around 2pm the sun was high and hot and I had managed to work up a good sweat on the uphill trail heading back to the car enjoying that good feeling of honest worn out tiredness you can really only get from hiking and climbing on a warm sunny day.    

 

Welcome back gnarly knuckles!