Today, I expanded my rock climbing experience to actually climbing on real rocks as opposed to the fake rocks that I climb at the gym on a regular basis. Is it harder? Yes. Is it more fun? Yes. Is it scarier? Yes.
When I fall at the gym, I know that a six-inch-thick mat about eight feet long and four to five feet wide will catch me, and if I fall off that, I will fall on the floor beneath which is made up entirely of six inch mats...and, if I am upside-down on the overhang, I will land on an eighteen-inch mat. Outside, depending on how many people are around with pads, I have to fall on a three by five foot mat, six inches thick, that is on top of the hard, unforgiving earth, and often a rock jutting out of the ground just for spite. Granted, I have a spotter, but it is the spotters job to control the fall onto the mat, the hard slab of earth beneath. Since I was only climbing with my friend Tim today, we only had once crash pad; if we missed iy, we were screwed.
I started on an easy V2 called "Lazy Mayzie" and flashed it. No problem. Then I went to "The Lorax" a low but tricky and fun V4, and did pretty well for my first climb, but even after numerous attempts, could not stick the last hold; I was feeling confident, maybe even a bit elated, so we moved on.
We came across a creepy looking V2 called "Dislocator Roof,"which sounds very ominous, and it seemed easy enough, but the top out(where you climb to the top of the boulder to finish) seemed kind of tough because there was nothing to grab. But we set up shop to give it a whirl. Tim went first, and except for the last move topping out had no problem, so he just dropped to the crash pad to try again later.
I was next, and sent the climb easily...except for topping out of course. I breezed through the climb, found a great hold on the ledge, heal-hooked the top, and had most of my weight over, but had shifted to the right of the pad over a craggy outcropping of stone, and when I reached to use the texture of the rock, my body jolted, I heard a girl scream, my hands raked across the granite as a crystal sliced trough my thumb from the tip to the meaty lower half near the wrist, and I fell the twelve feet, fully expecting to land on a slab of granite, but Tim, the best spotter in the universe, guided my falling body directly onto the center of the mat; when I landed hard in the center of the pad, my first reaction was to pat him on the back and tell him what a great spotter he was, followed immediately by checking my blood-covered hand that was dripping all over the ground.
So I taped it up so I could climb the second half of the day. After trying another V4, "Andrew's Boulder Problem" to no avail, I was relegated to easier climbs, because I was tired, injured, and a little freaked out; I can't wait to go back...but maybe I'll invest in a crash pad to at least double our security or maybe I will buy five crash pads just to be safe.
