October 29, 2004

• "Climb on!"

  During my last business trip to
  Corvallis, I had the chance to go to an internationally famous climbing
  area called Smith Rock with a colleague of mine. We arose at 6 am to
  the sound of mild rain, at the sight of ominous clouds and in
  anticipation of the 3 hour trek before us. But as we passed
  the Cascades, the rain magically disappeared, the ground was suddenly
  dry, and sunlight filled the skies.  

  There are those rare times in
  your life when your jaw drops at the sight of something simply
  breathtaking. This was one of those times. The vertical walls of Smith
  Rock jetted up from the ground after hours and hours of uneventful flat
  land while this winding river strangely managed to carve
  a passage between these massive formations.  It was only about
  45°F (7.2°C) at Smith Rock, but we were determined to climb.

   
  
  This is what I saw when I looked to my right and to my left

  I've been climbing
  regularly at the gym for about a year now, but none of that properly
  prepared me for what I was about to face. Adrenaline was rushing in my
  veins and as fear began to grip me during the difficult start of this
  first climb, my muscles began to tense up and tire. By the time I
  was 1/2 way up, I was almost ready to give up. My arms were spent, my
  feet were hurting, and I had already picked up a few minor scrapes from
  slipping once or twice. I felt the cold wind blowing at my face and was
  trying to enjoy the spectacular view, but it was all I could
  do to muster up my remaining strength and complete this climb.

   
  A difficult first climb along an arete with lots of exposure on both sides (5.9 US)

  The photos
  below were taken by someone who graciously offered to walk to an
  adjacent climbing area to get a good angle. Technically this was easier
  than my first few climbs, but if you look carefully at the photos,
  you'll notice that there is no rope above me. This was my first attempt
  at lead climbing ... ever! The scariest part is the first 10-15 ft you
  need to climb before you can clip in to your first point. You're
  holding all this safety gear around your belt and have carefully tied
  in your rope but know that all this gear will do nothing to buffet your
  fall until you clip in to your first point. When you top rope, you will
  typically fall no more than 5-10 inches; but when you lead climb, you
  can fall about twice the distance between your anchors. These were
  about 6-8 ft apart, so I knew that I would fall at least 12-16 ft if I
  fell while clipping in to another point. My feet were sore, and I had
  to balance myself on these tiny features while pulling up several feet
  of rope and handling gear. I often had to close my eyes to do this
  without falling.

   
  
  My precarious first attempt at lead climbing

  Climbing
  outdoors made me realize how incredibly controlled indoor climbing is.
  Routes are no longer labeled with bright neon colors but are disguised
  among a variety of formations that all look similar. I had to pause
  often to test and feel the different holds, and faint chalk residues of
  the climbers before me were my only hints at where to reach next.
  Footing was even more difficult to spot unless I paid careful attention
  on my way up and learned to recognize the little nubs that I would need
  to rest my weight upon. The
  walls are rough and easily pierced skin if you
  slipped. And you are at the mercy of falling rocks, the scourging
  sun, and the chilling wind. Some
  spots are easy, but other spots just sap your strength and seem
  impassible. These are the moments when your muscles ache with pain, and
  you hear faint whispers of defeat. 

  Real
  life is a lot more like outdoor rock climbing. Our routes are not
  colorfully marked with red, green and pink stones. We spend a lot of
  our time testing and feeling different holds
  before choosing a path. Our footing is equally precarious,
  and we all so tentatively shift our weight upon these new footings
  which seem like only small nubs. In the safety of the climbing gym, we
  may learn important basic skills, but these are tested outdoors when
  you're exposed to all the elements of life. Praise God for this
  humbling and exciting adventure!! At the start of a new climb, the
  climber would call out to his belayer (the person holding the rope) to
  let him know that he is ready. The belayer would then respond with
  "climb on!" to indicate that he is now securing the rope and to urge
  the climber to start his next ascent. God is the one who holds our
  lifelines so ...

  Climb on !!

  • 8:18 pm
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