In early summer, we took a short trip to southern Minnesota to stay in a neat tiny house rental and get out into the woods for a couple days. The house was not all it was cracked up to be. But worse, the timing was awful in regards to heat and mosquitoes.
We audibled to a campground that was nice enough for the second night and attempted to salvage the weekend with some casual climbing on Grandad Bluff in La Crosse. That is where I failed.
I took out my frustration from the weekend at that cliff, not demonstrably but rather as I tend to, with resignation. Flailing up what should have been an easy route, I made every excuse in the book, and unable to finish the climb or even retrieve all of our gear, threw in the towel.
I’ve written previously about the power and wisdom in quitting at the right time, but this was not that. I let the fact that I could not get to the top of something that I decided I should be able to get to the top of completely ruin my day, my weekend, and my attitude. I shut down.
A few weeks back, we headed past Dubuque to an Iowa county park that serves as the closest array of moderate sport climbing within a reasonable day’s distance. We’d been there before, but I had my mind on a few new-to-me routes, some on the easier side, some more difficult.
It’s a lovely park featuring a river-cut gorge with short approaches and solid, if a bit dirty, pocketed limestone. It’s not a climbing mecca, but it’s what we have within a couple hours.
Once again, I flailed about on some stuff that was below my level. Sent a couple. Hangdogged a couple more. Got fully stopped on one. But the attitude of that day could not have been more different.
Without verbalizing it, we enjoyed one of the last perfect days of the season, took our time, shared our thoughts, and stopped for a tasty beer on the way home. I did not “succeed” in the traditional sense at the climbing goals I had for the day. But it was a success, as every day out there should reasonably be seen.
On the worst cragging days, the highest-gravity failfests, you still get to be outside in a beautiful place, with people you care about. That’s already the top. If you get to climb something fun and completely, that’s a nice bonus. This past weekend, out bouldering with some climbing friends, before anything of substance had even been touched, sitting among the light-dappled leaf cover, they remarked “Que mas?” the most simple phrase that had been passed along from someone who had used it traveling through Spain.
A month ago, prior to the Iowa trip, I visited the same bouldering spot with some of the same friends, my first time out with people I had gotten to know from the climbing community. Subconsciously, I think that day made all the difference. There was energy in the air as we all scurried over the warm-up boulder like kids on a playground. Harder climbs felt more achievable with the support and shared knowledge bank. Not a negative word was mustered, and not a maudlin one needed to be.
It re-instilled the value of practice. As much as I’ve traveled, and as much as climbing has become a part of my daily life, my total days outside on rock still number fewer than 50. But not only the practice of the skills, the practice of patience. The practice of process. Reframing the mind to embrace what matters (moving outside with loved ones) and devalue what doesn’t (finishing some unimportant climb because I think I deserve it).
I’m grateful for the ability and freedom to do the things I do, no matter how well or poorly I do them on any particular day. And for being reminded why I do them.
Que mas?
Weekly Choss
From now on, with every post, I will include a glossary of terms I used that may not be familiar to all. It’s better than stopping to explain everything mid-paragraph.
sport climbing - roped climbing where you clipped into fixed bolts for protection along the way up. Largely foolproof, though if you do fall you will go twice the length between you and the last clipped bolt until the rope catches you.
send/sent/sending - a little gray area exists, but generally speaking to send means to climbing a route from bottom to top without falling or weighting the rope.
hangdogging - on a roped route, climbing a few moves at a time before hanging safely on the rope and repeating. Used as a way to figure out moves or (for me) compensate for lack of muscle endurance.
cragging - lowkey climbing days at an easily approachable wall. typically not much fuss. show and climb.
high-gravity days - tongue-in-cheek slang for days when everything climbing related feels exceptionally difficult.
This is one of the funniest, no frills, SNL sketches in a long time. As a comedy nerd, I always enjoy when stand-ups host. Nate Bargatze did a pretty great job overall, but this was the pinnacle…
I’m surprised I didn’t share this earlier, but Karel Sabbe did something bonkers toward the end of summer. It’s practically mind-boggling for someone to break such a competitive record by such a gigantic margin, especially since PCT thru-hikes are continually facing more and more challenges. Kudos to him. There’s also this video that came out shockingly fast and I haven’t finished yet. I bet it’s good.
OH YEAH, we took a long weekend trip to Asheville recently. Maybe I’ll write more about that later, but it had a lot of ups and one significant down - an overwhelming amount of dog anxiety on the drive home. I don’t really have a link or anything to share along with this, but def visit there if you like breweries, art, and fall colors.
I’ll leave you with this weirdly soothing art structure that is powered entirely by the wind and larger than a T-Rex. I only with the video was longer…
Stay grateful, people.