Name: Neil Mushaweh

Age: 24

Home: Exeter, NH

Sponsors: My girlfriend, my climbing crew

In it: 7 yrs

The Local: Rumney, NH

Memorable Ticks: Gold Coast 5.13d, Riveria 5.13d, Cote’d Azur 5.13b, Butt Bungo Fiesta 5.13a, Pexia 5.13a, and Man Overboard 5.12d 

Dream Trip: Although I’ve been there twice, going back to Spain to deep solo is a big dream of mine.  I would also love to sport climb and boulder in France and Japan. 

The Five-Year Goal: Continue to train and push my climbing as far as I can, travel to amazing places that only climbing can take you and stay healthy

The Insider:
“It’s 5:03 man,” said Neil with a shade of pissyness in his voice as I strolled into the gym. I looked at him confused. “Yah…and?”

“We were supposed to start training at 5:00. You’re 3 minutes late broseph! It’s time to crush, ” he said with his usual smugness and unmistakable smirk. And thus came the beginning of another night of plastic-pulling madness.

It is these long nights of training that Neil never fails to show his true colors. The guy does not stop. He will come in with holes in his skin after climbing all day long at Rumney and never hint at any signs of pain as he pulls into another heinous plastic sloper for the 50^th time in a night. In fact, I have never seen him climbing without some number of taped fingers in an attempt to stop the profuse bleeding that would ensue if they were not. Way to “climb through the pain” pal (freak). 

One night after a long session, bleeding fingers on plastic holds, and exhausting circuits, Neil politely asked, “Hey, man, you wanna go to the gym tomorrow and do abs till’ we puke,” as if he were asking about the weather. No, not at all.

Interestingly enough, this training monster diddle daddles all day long with numbers and mechanical-mashanical stuff at Raytheon. I only call it diddling because I don’t understand it. Either way, after thinking about Integrated Defense Systems at work, this dude is willing to drive an hour to the gym and proceed to crush pretty much…everything.

Whether it be throwing down laps on Man Overboard at Rumney, running hard on “rest days,” or squeezing the juice out of boulders at Pawtuckaway, Neil is comfortable, calm, and controlled (and very, very serious). Hardly. When not pulling down crimps to his waste, he is usually making a joke or yelling “Satatatatataaaaat!” mocking one of the many primal screams from movies like I’ve Crankin’ Real Hard Bra or My Guns are Bigger than Yours.

But when it comes right down to it, if you see Neil at the crag, you probably couldn’t ask a more genuine guy for a helping hand. A strong hand at that.

- David Wetmore