Where does it come from? For me it comes in many forms such as the
beauty of a place, the serene ambiance of a location, the waterfall that
lies to one’s back, the birds chirping in the trees, the aesthetics of
the rock and the movements of a route, the history of a climb, the
people we climb with and the energy they bring; all of these things
bring me inspiration, all of these things drive me to want to climb and
appreciate the simplicity of doing it. Seeing new places and learning
new routes, these too add to my inspiration. For some months Ben and I
had plans to travel to Utah to shoot a wedding for some friends; we
planned on making a climbing trip out of it. I had yet the opportunity
to check out the limestone of southern Utah and so a new place with new
routes was on the horizon – new inspiration. However, forming a routine
also really inspires me and this can lead to be reluctant to leave a
place (especially Yosemite), especially when the weather is good . But I
realize that sometimes getting settled into what is comfortable can
leave me lacking. Regardless, when it finally came time for Ben and I to
make good on our plan to head east to Utah for the majority of November
I did so with a little hesitation.
We
had been enjoying quite a wonderful Fall in the Valley. We both made an
ascent of the ultra-classic and technically challenging Kurt Smith
testament to the ground up standard “Keeper of the Flame” – a beautiful,
thin line that goes for about 130 feet clocking in at 5.13. I believe
this to be another first female ascent for me. We had also been spending
some time climbing on the South Face of Half Dome and inspiration was
high. The location, the remoteness (although cell reception is better no
place else than back there), the rock quality, the difficulty – it was
all giving us so much. Ron and I had also been enjoying some climbs of
the day on old, obscure, classics such as Pat and Jack’s “Cat Squirrel”
and the Owl’s “Mirage”. But our time was drawing to a close and although
snow had been falling conditions were due to only get better. Yosemite
is perhaps the place that inspires me the most and with that comes a
huge list of routes to do and boulders to scramble and my feelings were
mixed about leaving. I had to remind myself that the rocks and the
routes would be there when I return, so no need to fret over wanting to
do it all in a hurry. Besides, we would be heading to some of the best
limestone in the west, it couldn’t be so bad.
Keeper of the Flame - Ron Kauk photo
- Ron Kauk photo
Our
first day climbing we went to the Virgin River Gorge. As we pulled into
the parking off of I-15 my eyes widened with excitement. The wall was
steep, featured and draws seemed to hang from almost every route. I was
excited to finally see the famed VRG. I had heard plenty about the
freeway but I was still shocked at the crag’s proximity to the road. A
quick ten minute approach in which one has to cross under the freeway to
get to the cliff- walking amongst dirty diapers, discarded condoms,
dismissed beer cans and other signs of the seedy underbelly of humanity
had me marveling at the juxtaposition. It was like passing through hell
to get to heaven. At the base of the wall Ben rattled off a slew of
names and grades neither of which I heard very clearly over the buzz of
the cars below. It all looked good and I was at a complete loss for what
to tackle first. Thankfully I was defeated in our match of Roshambo and
I could let him give me a tour. Watching him on the warm-ups I realized
very quickly how steep the wall really was. I climbed a few pitches and
was feeling pretty good about it all before I was thwarted by a pumpy
and powerful 12c. I was surprised, confused and started to find it
harder and harder to concentrate. The constant clamor of I-15 was taking
over my mind. I was losing psyche and growing more frustrated by the
minute. My inspiration was disappearing as I became mesmerized by the
freeway. It was like looking at something too hideous to look at but for
some reason not being able to turn away. If only I could look away,
tune it out, concentrate; I struggled with myself. I belayed Ben on a
few more pitches and much to my relief the sun set and we were able to
leave this place with it’s bittersweet position.
Thankfully
the next day we went to the Cathedral – a beautiful limestone cliff
with a 30 minute approach out in the Utah hills. There were no cars, no
rumble of the road and no problem hearing your partner. The rock was
just as amazing as the VRG. Inspiration was back up! I was psyched.
Coming from Yosemite my fitness level was pretty high but my mental
preparedness for overhanging routes wasn’t as high. It took some getting
used to for me to come out of my comfort zone and to climb spread out.
It took some getting used to in general. I had to try hard, I had to
take the big whips, I had to let go of the fear of falling and know that
the falls were clean – there were no ledges to hit or pieces to pull. I
had to get out of my trad mind and get into my go for it mind. It took a
lot of work and by the days end I was tired. After a day’s rest we
were back at the Cathedral and after a few days of climbing there I had
found my groove. I made an ascent of a 13 called Holbytla that proved to
be quite a little battle and a great learning experience. Around the
7th bolt there is about 15 to 20 feet of a boulder problem on steep,
sloping pockets. Nothing felt positive, nothing felt solid. Skipping
the crux clip I took fall after fall. The cold was causing my hands to
numb out up there and I realized that I wasn’t really pumping off but
more just letting go. I needed to just hold on and keep moving, not let
go. I wanted the holds to be better but they weren’t. I needed to accept
the route for what it was and adjust myself to it. I needed to just go
for it to keep moving upwards with no doubt or hesitation. After
realizing this I was clipping the anchors and feeling like I had learned
a valuable lesson in rock climbing. Using my new-found spread out,
hang on and go for it approach I made an ascent of a really stellar 13b
called Resurrection a couple of days later. I think I could have stayed
out there indefinitely but once again the temps were dipping and it was
time for us to head out.
Conditions
wouldn’t be so harsh at the VRG Ben informed me. My heart sank a little
but I knew it was inevitable that we would be going back there. I
readied myself for the traumatic experience. I told myself that the
freeway actually sounded like waves breaking on shore. I hoped this
would inspire me. I tried hard, I pulled hard, I crimped hard. I used
the power I had found at the Cathedral to fuel me. It worked for a
while. But after 6 pitches and considering going back up on the epic
Fall of Man I just couldn’t muster an ounce more of psyche. I was over
it and lapsed into unmotivation and started to beat myself up about it
all over again.
I really wanted to like this place, I wanted to
try hard in the face of failure, I wanted to push myself to new levels
of inspiration but I was struggling. The road noise, the shade, the cold
rock, the overhanging wall with its huge reaches and slimy holds were
all overwhelming me. I was losing my power. Once again the sun set and
we could leave. I walked back to the car, crossing under the bridge to
hell with my head hung low. I felt like I had failed in some way. I felt
like I had let myself down by not pulling through and maintaining a
positive outlook. Back in the hotel I turned on the TV and tried to push
aside all thoughts of climbing. The channels were filled with things
like Real Housewives of Atlanta, Lady Hoggers, Millionaire Matchmaker
and terrible news programs. I searched the channels for inspiration and I
wondered what the hell was wrong with us people? What is it that we are
doing with ourselves, to ourselves and to the world? I came to the
understanding that I should be inspired by the simple fact that I have
the opportunity to go rock climbing, that I have the choice to be free
in myself and enjoy the act of moving over stone.
Back
at the VRG the wind whipped against the rock, the cars rumbled below.
My body felt stiff and my mind tired. In the warmth of the hotel room
finding inspiration seemed easy, out here I was going to have to dig
deep, to think about being thankful for the day, thankful for climbing. I
would let the rock inspire me. I tried hard. The warm ups felt hard, I
felt less than good. It would be a practice day – I would use it as an
opportunity to do moves, hold onto holds and enjoy the process of doing
that. I tried Fall of Man a couple of times with no expectations, just
practice. I did better than I thought I might do. I made it to a new
high point past the crux before faltering and just missing a crimp with
the left. I fell and I lowered. Looking back on that I know that I stood
in the way of myself. I had stopped myself from doing the move, from
grabbing that hold. I realize that still in me after all the red-points
and onsights that I still carry a fair amount of doubt. After the
lesson I thought I had learned at the Cathedral I still hesitated. While
reaching up for that hold I didn’t believe enough that I could do it,
that it was ok to grab it.
We
left the VRG in the cold of the late evening and headed back to Bishop.
I was bummed to leave with unfinished business. After all the dis-ease
and dislike I had I found myself almost begging Ben to let us stay just
one more day in the hopes of getting to climb Fall of Man one more time,
but the temps were too frigid to climb anymore and it was clear that we
should head home. On the drive back I thought about Jerry Moffat, I had
just finished reading his autobiography and the take home message I got
is that if you want something then you go for it 100%, with no doubt,
no hesitation, with only positivity and inspiration. Back here in the
warmth of our house in Bishop I’m using my new inspiration. We will
return to the VRG in the next months I’m sure and I will let myself do
Fall of Man then but in the mean time I’m climbing with more purpose
than ever – I’m going to go for it 100% with no hesitation and no doubt,
with positivity and inspiration.
