STARTING HOLD - #26 > DECEMBER 2008/JANUARY 2009

Finding Forever

If deep down you think of yourself as a climber, that means at one point, somewhere, you got the notion that scaling rocks could fill a void in your life or otherwise offer satisfaction unsurpassed by any other activity. And, know it or not, that notion set the stage for the rest of your life. I like to think such things are inevitable. Everyone is hardwired for some activity or another – connected to a love that will eventually turn itself on and remain on forever. It could be anything: sport, craft, hobby, career, or some blend of those things. It can take just a few years to activate (the kid who says, “I want to be a fireman” and doesn’t let go of that focus until he or she is flipping those sirens on) or it can take a half a lifetime. Many go through life for a long while, like a skipping stone touching down on one big idea after the next, before coming to rest in that one, perfect spot.

I played team sports as a kid – mainly baseball, but also football, soccer, and basketball briefly. Then, as a high school sophomore, a wooden plank with four wheels became my best friend. From then on, instead of hanging out and watching the game on Sundays, I’d be outside practicing new tricks, scoping spots, and building ramps. My clothing changed. My taste in music changed. My friends changed. My ambitions changed. I changed. I thought skateboarding was it for me. But today, as near and dear as skating is to my heart, I no longer have that drive to get up every morning and shred like I did years ago. I can say I still skate – and skateboarding is a large piece of the fabric I’m constructed of – but I can’t call myself a skateboarder anymore. It wasn’t meant to be my one thing.

Ten years ago, at the New Jersey Rock Gym, I bouldered for the first time. I really have no idea what lured my then girlfriend (now wife), Shelly and I there that day. But I do know that I’ve never once stopped being a climber since. I traded my wheels for a crash pad and pair of rock shoes two days later and never looked back. I knew instantly my one thing had finally turned itself on. And for the rest of my life I’ll be a climber first. Somehow I know it. It’s just meant to be. Some people might call it life changing, but life changing is what skateboarding was for me a long time ago. I call this “life finding”.

When you find that one thing, you want to share it – and there are many ways to do so. Take the people in this issue for example. You could find yourself in the company of Chris Sharma, setting climbing benchmarks and establishing the world’s hardest routes. Why not? You might document your journeys with photo or video, like Andrew Burr, Andy Mann, Brian Solano, Mike Call, Danielle Vennard and Boone Speed. Maybe you’ll write a guidebook to your beloved crag, spreading the good Beta for all, as did Seth Robinson and Phillip Benningfield. Or you might find it easier to express your one thing in words, like Mike Brumbaugh, Tim Keenan, and Justin Roth. You could even save an entire climbing area, as Chad Wykle and Jim Horton have proven possible, by working with organizations like the Southeastern Climbers Coalition. Or maybe it’s just being the supporter in your crew, always psyched, calling the sessions, establishing your backyard crags, and keeping the fire lit. On any level, grades pushed completely aside, if you’ve found climbing is your one thing, as many of us have, you’re a lucky soul…and you’ll be even better off for sharing.

For the next issue, I’d like you to share climbing with me. Show me it’s your one thing, too. I don’t care how you do it: letters, stories, photos, video, draw me a picture, whatever. I just want you to inspire me. In return, Urban Climber will share some of what you’ve given us, to inspire others. And together we’ll help forever begin for someone else.

Email me at joe@urbanclimbermag.com See you out there, Joe Iurato UC