On Climbing, Spiritual Excursions, and Expectations
“Guys this is it. Today is the day. We’re gonna do the spiritual journey.”
So I said the past few times the clouds parted, and we made our way up to the local crag for a session. Not just any session, the session. This was the one.
I had been meaning to do a particularly exposed-looking 5.10-, called Kaluha Krypton, for a while and each time found some excuse to postpone. There’s too many people, the vibes aren’t right, there are hornets on the route, etc.
On one of my would-be attempts, I went after another climb to start the day. I mistakenly identified the route as Relativity 5.10a and had an unexpected journey getting up it, falling multiple times and very nearly giving in to fear and quitting. This route later turned out to be Eclectic Classic 10d and my failed attempts and extreme fright seemed somehow justified.
Misidentifying Eclectic Classic led me into believing that 5.10s in the area are extremely stout, and this magnified my expectations about the spiritual journey.
I had already guessed that the climb would be challenging, given the older grading style of the area, but now I had tangible reasons. And so the hype surrounding the climb grew, and each successive visit I would announce that yes, today was the day.
On the same day I projected Eclectic Classic, I thought to myself:
“Wow, now that was a spiritual journey.”
But of course, that couldn’t have been the one. There was plenty of daylight left to burn, and it was down to only two of us, so conditions couldn’t get much better.
My climbing partner didn’t have any particular preferences on what to do next so this was finally it.
A short hike up the hill and across the ridge led us to the Double Chocolate formation. Carefully we scrambled out to Lizard Ledge, an aspect of the climb that makes it all the more exciting.
One must either carefully step across a crumbling ledge while hanging onto decaying slings or sport climb from the bottom to reach the start of the climb. While on the ledge, a grassy platform separates you from a likely unpleasant fall.
As I tied in, I took a few breaths and nervously pulled myself up the rock to the first hold.
Taking a few moments to pause and listen to the wind gradually picking up, I then made another move, utilizing a large hueco jug to side pull my way to the next spot. The climb felt like it was heating up as I made my way beyond some tiny crimps. I stopped to deeply exhale, and before I knew it, I was face to face with the anchors.
Little more than 10 minutes had elapsed, and that was the extent of the “spiritual journey.”
It wasn’t terribly easy, but certainly a stark contrast to the experience I was expecting, and not the first time my expectations about a climb had been dashed. The route turned out to be fairly straightforward, and much shorter than I imagined, not that I have anything against short climbs. Spending time working through a more difficult climb earlier allowed me to confidently flow through this one. My efforts to project Eclectic Classic had been rewarded, yet my stoke about sending the climb wasn't quite there. I was left feeling oddly disappointed, and my thoughts drifted to one of my favorite quotes:
There Are Only Two Tragedies. One Is Not Getting What One Wants, and the Other Is Getting It — Oscar Wilde
Realistically I hadn’t spent all that much time fixating on this climb (at least a few months) and describing it as a spiritual journey in the first place was likely a stretch. And to call it my one great desire is likely going a bit far as well.
Without realizing it, I expended most of my time and energy on a different climb that now feels more meaningful than this one ever did.
With both climbs now ticked, I’m back to daydreaming about the next. As I eagerly flip through the guidebook, I remind myself:
“Be careful not to become so involved in looking for the next journey that you lose sight of the one you’re already on.”
