ROCK CLIMBING

Rock climbing will have you clinging to life by your fingertips… it’s great for building strong arms, back and legs, not to mention character.

It’s great for building strong arms, back and legs, not to mention character.

TIGHT SHOT of a man plumping his pillow before resting his head on it in anticipation of a sound sleep. He’s obviously outdoors. Presumably camping, given the warm clothes he’s wearing to bed on what looks to be a stretched-nylon cot. Then the camera slowly pulls back to reveal his cot is actually resting against a sheer rock face, suspended by a couple ropes anchored above. The camera continues its pan out until he becomes nothing more than a speck on the rock face, driving home the magnitude of the man’s climb thus far, the enormity of the ascent left to go, and making one marvel how anyone could sleep in such a precarious position.

I was 12 years old, sitting in the audience of an IMAX cinema – back when the films were largely educational – and that opening scene left a lasting impression. I had never wanted to do anything so badly.

It would be another 10 years before I found myself rock climbing for the first time in Tucson, Arizona.

On that first ascent, I was offered the secondary role of following the lead climber. Unlike climbing gyms where the rope is already secured at the top of the climb, the lead climber created the route as he went, leaving behind a trail of pins hammered into the rock or springloaded expanding cams wedged into crevices through which his rope snaked as he ascended, providing a stop gap should he fall.

My job was to remove those safety measures as I climbed. In fact, I had no choice because each barred my way until I was able to free it from the rock – often a perilous one-handed task exerting force to pull away from the rock when every instinct said hold tighter, get closer.

In retrospect, focusing solely on my climb would have been challenge enough, without the additional complication, not to mention that being second meant I had little latitude to forge my own path, instead having to follow the moves of someone far more experienced than I.

About three quarters up the rockface I got stuck. The only way forward was clear but excruciatingly out-of-reach of my right hand. Worse yet, I had a tenuous grip with my left while my right foot had already slipped a couple times from its narrow perch whenever I attempted to put pressure on it to propel me upwards. My left foot was the only limb securely anchored.

I won’t lie, my climb to that point had already been fuelled by fear. The hard rock pressed so tightly against my chest it felt like it was restricting the pounding of my wildly beating heart. The truth is, every reach, grab, pull and push so far had been instinctually motivated by adrenaline because I didn’t know you could fall. Sure, I knew why I was wearing a harness, using ropes and what those cams I was busy dislodging from the rock were meant for… but I was too afraid to test them.

Then it came down to that moment: do or die. It’s like that scene in The Dark Knight Rises where Christian Bale’s Bruce Wayne has to escape the prison pit. His first attempt fails

The fear of falling motivated me to reach further… not succeeding meant certain death. As motivations go, it’s a cracker!

because, as a wise man later tells him, he wasn’t afraid. He tries again, without rope, and escapes the pit.

And so it was with me. The fear of falling motivated me to reach further than I’ve reached before because, in my mind, not succeeding meant certain death. As motivations go, it’s a cracker!

Somehow my right hand found its intended target and in a few more movements I was pulling myself atop the cliff’s edge, like a man lost at sea pulls himself aboard his rescuing ship. Exhilaration. Relief. The rush of accomplishment! I was hooked.

I finally did fall. Not that first day despite subsequent ascents, but months later when I took up rock climbing at my local climbing gym. After the initial free-falling fright, I steadied myself, braced my feet against the wall, safely suspended, and took a moment to figure out where I went wrong before trying again. Obviously, there are arguments for learning from your mistakes, but I’ll never forget what it felt like to fear the consequences so much that failure wasn’t an option. No climb has ever been the same since.

IT’S A GIANT PUZZLE

Rock climbing is a mental endeavour. You have a finite amount of strength and a limited time to use it before you tire, so you’ve got to constantly be planning ahead, even before you step on the rock or the wall, to look for a route that will offer secure holds or stable rests upon which you can regroup physically and mentally.

IT’S A TEAM SPORT

Sure, there are those that climb solo, but for we mere mortals, safety dictates you have someone on belay (holding the rope) at the base to stop you from plummeting to the ground. That same person is not only your cheering squad, they’re a second set of eyes offering a bigger picture perspective, seeing routes and holds you may not see because your face is pressed up against the rock.

THERE’S AN ARTISTRY TO IT

My first rock climbing partner was a ballet dancer. Watching him float up a rockclimbing wall was a graceful journey of deliberate choices, each limb landing on its intended goal with poise. And while I couldn’t do the splits between two footholds, I did endeavour to emulate his considered confidence and focussed intent.

THREE TIPS FOR BEGINNERS

1. The Hips Have It: keep your hips in, close to the wall at all times to help maintain better balance. Conversely, hanging your butt out can put a lot of strain on your arms. 2. Trust Your Feet: too often, people think of rock climbing as an upper body sport. That’s not too say you won’t develop amazing forearms and a rippling back, but your greater strength and stability resides in your legs. Whenever possible use your legs to propel you upwards to conserve arm strength for when you really need it. 3. Go Backwards: after you’ve finished celebrating reaching the top of the gym rock wall, rather than simply abseiling down, try climbing down. It’s a useful tool for developing dexterity and strength on the rock if you find you need to backtrack to find a better route.