The first thing I’d like to say is that the Rock Climbing gym smells really and truly terrible. It’s like a mixture of uncleaned hoarder house, bare feet inside old bowling shoes, and sweaty gym clothes. I find it oddly comforting. In some ways it’s safe to say that rock climbing is what started me out on this idea to do more, to save my life. But let’s rewind.
It actually started with a documentary. My brother in law recommended that my husband watch a documentary called Valley Uprising, which according to Google is about “Generations of beatniks and madmen [who] drop out of society and take up a life of rock climbing on the massive granite walls of Yosemite National Park.” It’s a truly fantastic documentary and you should definitely watch it. (You can watch for free with Amazon Prime)
Anyway, my husband watched it one night in February of 2019 after I had gone to bed. The next night he told me all about it while on our nightly dog walk. The night after we obviously watched it together while eating dinner. You heard me correctly, my husband watched the same documentary twice in three days. And well… that’s not actually the beginning either. Let’s rewind again.
The real, real beginning was with the 2015 remake of the movie, Point Break (which you can rent for $3.99 from Amazon). Don’t laugh. I know it’s a terrible movie (like, why is it all green??). But it did plant the ghost of an idea in my mind. The ghost would haunt the periphery of my thoughts for the next 3+ years. The idea was something like this… Am I even alive? I wanted to do something stupid. I wanted to have an adventure.
Fast forward to Valley Uprising. We’re back to late February, I’ve recently turned 30 years old, I am deep in the throes of an existential crisis. The ghost speaks out loud for the first time.
Ghost: go do that!
Me: Do what? Quit my job, move to Yosemite, live like a dirtbag, and go rock climbing every day?
Ghost: Don’t be stupid. Learn to rock climb, first.
So in April 2019 I signed up for my first rock climbing class at Cornell University’s Lindseth Climbing Center. I dragged my husband along and we had a great time. I got pulled over on the way home for running a red light, but I didn’t get a ticket. I could barely lift my arms to hold the steering wheel the rest of the ride home, and I’m the happiest I can remember being for a long time.
I then signed up for another class.
I passed my belay test.
I went to climbing events.
I tried to make climbing partners despite my own nearly insurmountable introversion. I kept going even though it’s hard, and the gym is an hour away. That is, I kept going until now. Thanks to the Coronavirus, my days of climbing at the gym are over. For now.
But my days of climbing hopefully aren’t.
I have a few insane schemes I am putting together. Here is a sneak preview of one of them:
Climb on.
