Got Nemesis?

The Snake River Flowing Eloquently

Years and years ago when I was in my early beginnings of high school, okay it wasn’t really that long ago, I found a place that a piece of my heart still remains. It is nothing too spectacular. In fact, it’s not even worth going to see, in my opinion, unless you are so out of things to do that you are spackle watching (similar to cloud watching). It’s a very small bulge of granite squeezed between the Snake River and a highway. Why, you may ask, does a piece of my heart reside there? No, it’s not because I fell in love there. In reality, it’s almost the exact opposite. It’s all because of two things named “Hand Over Hand” and “Rotten Crack.” This was my first 5.11 route that I ever led and my first lead climb ever, respectively.

The day that my friend Daniel taught me to lead climb is a day that I will not soon forget. I will spare you the boring details and skip straight to the good parts. The route I was attempting to lead was a 5.10a with one very committing crux. As I made my way up the first section of the face my heart raced and my palms became soaked. I had climbed this on top rope before, but this was different, if I fell on lead the consequences were much more noticeable. I made the first clip and chalked my hands. I made the second clip, more chalk. I’m now too far up to worry about decking (hitting the ground) if I take a fall. I commit and throw big for the crux and am well on my way to finishing the route clean, and using all my chalk. I reach the final clip and panic. In my head I’m basically in tears and screaming like a little girl. When I spoke, though, I attempted to conceal my concerned mind, “Daniel, I don’t think I can do this.” I don’t remember what he said after I told him that, but I do remember that it left my pride no choice but to finish the route.  My first lead climb was now under my belt. It’s been years since that first time and I’ve had climbed hundreds of routes on lead, but each time I go back to Rotten Crack I run through that entire scene in my mind. That’s piece #1.

This is Granite Point from the parking lot looking West

Piece #2 resides on Hand Over Hand. It took me months of falling and climbing to final reach the top of this route. During one of my attempts I took a nasty fall from the final clip and fell about 20ft and bounced off an adjacent wall resulting in a minor injury and scared silly. Needless to say, once I finished the route I didn’t have much of a desire to return. While there yesterday with a friend I had a desire to climb my “nemesis” despite being very afraid of it. I’ve climbed more difficult routes in my life, but we all have our “difficult” routes. It’s like the problem child in the family, you don’t want to deal with it, but you still love it.  When we reached the wall it felt like the route was speaking to me, inviting me back for a dual. I accepted the challenge with a bit of a smirk, ‘bring it on’ I thought to myself. I sailed through the first ¾ of the route and when I reached the clip where I had taken a nasty whipper I paused. This was no longer a strength or technique route for me, it was all mental. I ran through the scenario of my previous fall and switched my feet in order to prevent a repeat fall. As I pulled my way through the mantle it felt very familiar, this was my nemesis afterall. The final move requires more balance than 12 house cats combined, good thing I had the balance of 13 that day. I finished the climb and the oh so familiar rush of adrenaline coursed through my veins making it complete. I don’t see myself returning to climbing this route ever again, some things are better left in the past. It will, however, always remain as one of my historic personal battles that I can refer to for learning in later time.

Another Adventure. Another Sunset.