NAME: Robin "Robinowski" Maslowski

AGE:  22

HOME: Boston, MA

SPONSORS:  None

IN IT: 5.5 years

THE LOCAL: Red River Gorge, KY - Rumney, NH - and MetroRock, MA

MEMORABLE TICKS:
Rocket Dog (12b, RRG) during a tropical monsoon that somehow found Kentucky; Tidal Wave (12c) on the gorgeous beaches of Thailand; and Tuskan Raider (12d, RRG) at the last possible moment before leaving the Red for the school year.

DREAM TRIP:
A South American climbing adventure through Peru, Patagonia, and Chile with unlimited tortilla chips and Coronas.

THE FIVE-YEAR GOAL:
Place a piece of gear that actually stays in the crack, spend the night on a porta-ledge, have some money, and climb hard.

THE INSIDER:

Looking on through a pair of binoculars as climbers bivied themselves in for the night on the Salathe Wall, something clicked in Robin’s brain. Climbing seemed like a great idea.

Unfortunately, the sight horrified her parents. The moment they said, "You girls are FORBIDDEN to ever do something like that," Robin knew she’d be a climber. Years have passed since this genesis and Robin is now on the other end of the binoculars. Over fifty 5.12’s later, Robin has become a crimp-crushing, pinch-squeezing machine. It’s true.

When Robin arrives at a crag, the sweet little blue jays stop chirping and the babbling beta-sprayers quiet to a low mumble as they gaze on in awe. Robin owns whatever crag she is at for the time being. Her presence is overwhelmingly intimidating. Before proceeding to crush, Robin often summons a small group of minions to clean each hand and foothold with rubbing alcohol. The chosen few for this task are privileged.

More importantly, she does not simply climb. She mercilessly punishes the wall with her untamed, veracious power. 

No living being has ever seen The Robinowski fall.

Her athletic prowess is matched with unrivaled intellect. Robin just graduated with a B.S. in Mechanical Engineering from the five-year old Franklin W. Olin College of Engineering. She is now putting her stellar education to use by engineering a way to cram everything she owns into the 3 square feet of space in her sporty Civic Hybrid and then cursing its 95 hp engine when it stalls on the Motherload Hill at the Red and rolls backwards into a ditch. The Robinowski does not get angry though. She simply lifts the car from the ditch and pulls it by the bumper for the rest of the way. 

Primarily a sport climber, she is putting her graduation money towards a trad rack in hopes that one day she will be patient enough to learn to place gear. After a responsibility-free summer of being a climbing bum in the Red, Rifle, and Maple, Robin will be working in Boston at an energy consulting company focusing on energy efficiency and alternative energy. Eventually, she will probably end up in grad school learning how to save the world from melting. However, there is a fair chance that the rocks may abate this intent for quite some time. Like…forever. 

In either case, if you ever see this climbing phenomenon at the crag, don’t be scared. Say hello and remember to have a brush, rubbing alcohol, and gri-gri ready at hand. Just kidding about all that. She is probably the nicest climber you’ll ever meet.
- David Scott