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Starting Hold #45 - December/January 2011
I'm fairly confident that nearly every climber has done something stupid that resulted in a near-death experience, or caused such an experience for people nearby. You see and hear about these incidents all the time. I’ve been guilty, I’m sure (though I was probably too ignorant to notice, much less prevent, such actions). It had been a while, though, since I’d managed to screw up too badly. Thank goodness for my recent trip to Mexico for the Petzl RocTrip. It offered me the opportunity to prove to some of the world’s strongest climbers that I still had it in me to make a complete ass of myself. That might be a bit of an exaggeration, but I can’t deny feeling incredibly silly.
Imagine, if you will, the always-psyched Joe Kinder belaying you while the always-adorable Emily Harrington stands below, joining Kindkid in a cheer fest as you attempt to send your project (which happens to be one of their warm-ups). Then imagine that, after falling (again), you start to clean the route, saving the redpoint for another day. Then, to make a long story shorter, you clip directly into the lower-most draw of the slightly overhanging cliff, unweight the rope, and for some ridiculous reason you decide not to tell Joe to take up all the slack before you unclip from the bolt and let go, falling most of the way to the ground and bouncing about six inches above a bent-over and oblivious Emily Harrington. Who, if she’d been standing up, might have had her poor head smushed like a turtle. This, if you can imagine it, is exactly what I did.
After swinging to the ground, I saw the look on Joe’s face. It was a look of surprise and disappointment. He couldn’t stop saying, “I can’t believe that just happened!” I hung my head, finally knowing what it felt like to be a dog that shit on a new carpet. I knew I hadn’t communicated correctly, and now I was getting the lecture. There’s nothing worse than getting scolded for an error you already understand. Eventually, Joe paused and looked at me. “You already know, don’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re totally bugged out, aren’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Aw man, don’t worry. Nothing happened, and you won’t do that again, for sure.”
I felt moderately better seeing that Joe knew I was aware of my mistake, but I was still wrestling with the fact that I had never done this before. I’d always been smarter when I cleaned routes. Truth is, it could happen to anyone. Oftentimes, such mistakes result simply in an increased heart rate and a story, but occasionally they are the things that lead to tragic accidents. Climbing, as we all know, is inherently dangerous, just like every gear label says. While I can laugh about my little lapse in judgment, it’s still something I should consider very seriously when I’m climbing. Life is too short to be careless, and besides, we only get one. And if that’s not enough to get you thinking, may you remember that making a fool of yourself in front of your heroes makes you feel real small.
