To add to the recent spate of blog posts (and because I'm bored in class), here's sharing some of my climbing stories of 2010. Contrary to the common mentality of pushing yourself and doing loads of hard stuff, what defined the year for me was climbing in a variety of situations and exploring different styles...
June marked my introduction to crack climbing, that just demanded a completely different mentality from all the face climbing that I was so used too. No small crimpy holds or jugs, just a long crack of different widths, depths, turns. All my natural instincts started off trying to find and crimp the holds around it. Fail #2 was trying to layback. Until someone shared that "in face climbing, you try and hold on to the wall, but in crack climbing, you let the wall hold on to you" and everything just clicked. No point trying to use the same things that work on face climbing, but well, tape up your hands and be willing to shove it in, be willing to get a few scrapes and scars, be willing to try something else.. And slowly, you get the hang of it...
July was brought outdoors by some great people to whom I'm extremely grateful.. First trip was to the rocks behind Mt Rushmore: the rocks were sparkling like pieces of crystal stuck in them & routes were really balance-y stuff (imagine pieces of crystals gorged out from the rock for your handholds), but your shoes just stick to anything, the friction was that awesome. Did some simple routes, went abseiling by a lake, spent the night camping out. Next day it was back to limestone at Spearfish Canyon, only this time surrounded by evergreen trees and not the usual tropical rainforest.
Next trip was Devil's Tower. Headed up a route named Durrance. An easy climb (5.7+), also a North American classic. Seconding up 4 pitches, removing the natural protection as you go along. Realizing that you're level with the rainclouds and that you can see them coming at you, so hurry on for that final unroped scramble up to my first summit of a tower and signed the guestbook with a note from Singapore. Abseiling off that tower to beat the rain, you realize how bothersome and unnecessary a safety prussik cord can be, yet throughout the day I was so thankful that I understood enough to know what was going on in a multi-pitch /setting up anchors /abseil, about tying a rope properly so you could carry it hands-free on that unroped scramble. It also led me to understand how much climbing was viewed as a lifestyle, of enjoying each climb, thinking where to place protection, spending time going places outdoors, knowing the risks and taking them, and just bringing people out to climb to share the joy.
The adventure of August was bouldering with Kory (and some others) at Haycock Mountain. Besides getting uber lost (sounds familiar, no?) and wandering up and down the same forest /meadow, it was my first shot at natural boulders (when we found them). So I've barely been climbing all this while and I've never been into bouldering, but hey, the noob that I was realized that boulders can actually be quite high (like several times your height). And that you do top out on them and scramble down later. I know you've seen this in the videos, but trying it out in real life, the crashpad looks awfully small when you're looking down from the top. I didn't manage to do a whole lot of routes, but it was awesomely inspiring nonetheless.
Hong Kong. Again the trial of finding people to climb with when you don't speak the language so thanks to the kind souls that linked me up.. Besides gyms and the sea cliff at Tung Lung Island, the new experience for me was night climbing at the Central Crags. So I went into it the day before a final exam, not quite knowing what I was in for but thankful that someone was offering to bring me out.... "The climbing place is actually pretty brightly lit by the lights of the swimming pool nearby". True, but the track up wasn't... Didn't slip but well, I'm not complaining about trekking anymore... But the huge spotlight appear as we reached the crag and starting out you could pretty much see what you were climbing on. Coupled with 5.8 routes, no sweat.. Or so I thought until I reached a section where the holds started to get smaller: finding footholds in the dark is no joke and I was way thankful for that headlight. Really got to be a lot more conscious about feeling about for holding and less guessing whether it's going to be a good hold or not. Wouldn't attempt to flash anything in the dark, but hey, it was a new experience.
And then there was Yangshuo. Awesome as the it was meeting new people and climbing with people of different experiences, it was good to be back amongst friends again and be understood when you slip into slang... The variety of routes and range of difficulties, the weather, two weeks of getting away from the world is always much welcome. But as I stare up at a route, tied in, chalked up, ready to go, the question that always runs through my mind is "tell me why am I doing this again?". Remind me why I climb, scare myself crazy by the thought of falling (even when I know it's safe). Why am I addicted to finding new places to climb, to wanting to try new routes that I don't know if I can complete. Why do you tahan the cold, get lost trampling around farms and meadows just to find that elusive climbing area. Is it really worth that much?
Or so you think until you get onto the wall, make that first move, get the first clip done with. And then it becomes just you and the route and you stop thinking about everything else. Sometimes that moment lasts even after you come down, the holds and moves playing over in your mind, when you talk about it, think about why you can't work it out, drives you to want to go back and finish it. Escapism in those moments of pure concentration? Is it just the perfectionist need to complete an unfinished work? Or maybe it's just the concurrent adrenaline and sense of relaxation. I may not know why I climb nor why I enjoy it, but I know that it's become a part of life as I know it. And sometimes, don't need think so much, just climb.
Michelle Ong
June marked my introduction to crack climbing, that just demanded a completely different mentality from all the face climbing that I was so used too. No small crimpy holds or jugs, just a long crack of different widths, depths, turns. All my natural instincts started off trying to find and crimp the holds around it. Fail #2 was trying to layback. Until someone shared that "in face climbing, you try and hold on to the wall, but in crack climbing, you let the wall hold on to you" and everything just clicked. No point trying to use the same things that work on face climbing, but well, tape up your hands and be willing to shove it in, be willing to get a few scrapes and scars, be willing to try something else.. And slowly, you get the hang of it...
July was brought outdoors by some great people to whom I'm extremely grateful.. First trip was to the rocks behind Mt Rushmore: the rocks were sparkling like pieces of crystal stuck in them & routes were really balance-y stuff (imagine pieces of crystals gorged out from the rock for your handholds), but your shoes just stick to anything, the friction was that awesome. Did some simple routes, went abseiling by a lake, spent the night camping out. Next day it was back to limestone at Spearfish Canyon, only this time surrounded by evergreen trees and not the usual tropical rainforest.
Next trip was Devil's Tower. Headed up a route named Durrance. An easy climb (5.7+), also a North American classic. Seconding up 4 pitches, removing the natural protection as you go along. Realizing that you're level with the rainclouds and that you can see them coming at you, so hurry on for that final unroped scramble up to my first summit of a tower and signed the guestbook with a note from Singapore. Abseiling off that tower to beat the rain, you realize how bothersome and unnecessary a safety prussik cord can be, yet throughout the day I was so thankful that I understood enough to know what was going on in a multi-pitch /setting up anchors /abseil, about tying a rope properly so you could carry it hands-free on that unroped scramble. It also led me to understand how much climbing was viewed as a lifestyle, of enjoying each climb, thinking where to place protection, spending time going places outdoors, knowing the risks and taking them, and just bringing people out to climb to share the joy.
The adventure of August was bouldering with Kory (and some others) at Haycock Mountain. Besides getting uber lost (sounds familiar, no?) and wandering up and down the same forest /meadow, it was my first shot at natural boulders (when we found them). So I've barely been climbing all this while and I've never been into bouldering, but hey, the noob that I was realized that boulders can actually be quite high (like several times your height). And that you do top out on them and scramble down later. I know you've seen this in the videos, but trying it out in real life, the crashpad looks awfully small when you're looking down from the top. I didn't manage to do a whole lot of routes, but it was awesomely inspiring nonetheless.
Hong Kong. Again the trial of finding people to climb with when you don't speak the language so thanks to the kind souls that linked me up.. Besides gyms and the sea cliff at Tung Lung Island, the new experience for me was night climbing at the Central Crags. So I went into it the day before a final exam, not quite knowing what I was in for but thankful that someone was offering to bring me out.... "The climbing place is actually pretty brightly lit by the lights of the swimming pool nearby". True, but the track up wasn't... Didn't slip but well, I'm not complaining about trekking anymore... But the huge spotlight appear as we reached the crag and starting out you could pretty much see what you were climbing on. Coupled with 5.8 routes, no sweat.. Or so I thought until I reached a section where the holds started to get smaller: finding footholds in the dark is no joke and I was way thankful for that headlight. Really got to be a lot more conscious about feeling about for holding and less guessing whether it's going to be a good hold or not. Wouldn't attempt to flash anything in the dark, but hey, it was a new experience.
And then there was Yangshuo. Awesome as the it was meeting new people and climbing with people of different experiences, it was good to be back amongst friends again and be understood when you slip into slang... The variety of routes and range of difficulties, the weather, two weeks of getting away from the world is always much welcome. But as I stare up at a route, tied in, chalked up, ready to go, the question that always runs through my mind is "tell me why am I doing this again?". Remind me why I climb, scare myself crazy by the thought of falling (even when I know it's safe). Why am I addicted to finding new places to climb, to wanting to try new routes that I don't know if I can complete. Why do you tahan the cold, get lost trampling around farms and meadows just to find that elusive climbing area. Is it really worth that much?
Or so you think until you get onto the wall, make that first move, get the first clip done with. And then it becomes just you and the route and you stop thinking about everything else. Sometimes that moment lasts even after you come down, the holds and moves playing over in your mind, when you talk about it, think about why you can't work it out, drives you to want to go back and finish it. Escapism in those moments of pure concentration? Is it just the perfectionist need to complete an unfinished work? Or maybe it's just the concurrent adrenaline and sense of relaxation. I may not know why I climb nor why I enjoy it, but I know that it's become a part of life as I know it. And sometimes, don't need think so much, just climb.
Michelle Ong
