Back in the summer of 2009 Nath climbed The Vampire at Tahquitz (5.11a) with her friend, Linda.  She’s from Montreal and spoke French growing up and so this needed a little editing.  For various reasons (none good) I slacked and didn’t get to it until now.  Sorry Nath.  In any case, below is her awesome tale of leading The Vampire.  She’d been leading trad for about 2 years, and what made it exceptionally challenging was that she’s about 5′1″. More »

Climbing epics tend to start out in a similar manner: you pick a climb that is over your head, over-estimate your abilities, under-estimate the time to climb it and since you will summit in no time, you take away essentials like water, food, and headlamps. Much like a flawed mathematical proof or scientific experiment, what you set out to do turns into a series of mistakes because of a false initial assumption. When you succeed, you call it light and fast. When you don’t, it turns into an epic. Then there’s the gray area in between where you are climbing in the dark, blaming yourself for not bringing more water and a headlamp, your mind gets filled with self-doubts, and you are certain that you’re going to die. Here is my story: More »

The one of the hardest part about being a climber is trying to convey the experience of climbing to others.  It is as if you know the answer, but you can’t articulate it.  You have a great story, but can’t tell it.  I have had similar experiences trying to tell a story to someone who doesn’t speak the same languages as me.  What makes it frustrating is that there are words that describe the experience, but the meaning of those words is far removed from their conventional definitions.  How do you define “mysteriously technical”, “mind blowing” even if you could recount the movements of a climb; even if you could describe the sounds of a day, it is still impossible to impart upon others the experience that you had.  It is yours and yours alone.  You want to share it, but you can’t.  This is the curse of climbing.