Accomplishing Goals

It's my 4th attempt to try and send Stigma. I balance my way up the first section of easy climbing and get to the almost non-existent thumb/finger pinch crimp with my left hand. I lean over my foot and send my right hand to the sloper far up and right. I feel my core give away and foot slip, plummeting back towards the Earth.

"Dang! I really thought I could get it today," I told Geniey.

"Don't worry, its the end of the day and you've been climbing a lot, we can come back and I'm sure you can do it," Geniey says with a reassuring smile.

"Ya, I know...I just wanted to be done with it, that's all." I replied. With so much climbing on the island there is always an internal battle being fought. Do I find ONE hard project and work on it for a few days? Or do I climb LOTS of easy routes and try and get in as many climbs as possible? With over 2700 climbs on the island, you can see the dilemma. Fortunately, the long stay on the island afforded us to be able to do both. We climbed many routes the first few weeks and began projecting our 3rd week.

Packing up that day I felt the defeated but motivated. Failing is such an integral part of climbing. You get better by failing, if you're only on routes you know you can do, it can be slow growing as a climber, and I wanted to push my limits. I had never climbed a 7b before (12.b) and that was my month long goal while staying on the island. After hopping on 4 different routes at that grade, I focused on 2 routes. The first being Stigma, a crimpy, technical small footed climb at Secret Garden, and also Kulturistika, a pumpy and overhung tufa fest. They were fun and short, only around 20 metres each. I had already focused 2 days on Kulturistika and almost sent it on my 5th try. Passing the crux only to slip, forearms swelling beyond belief, back to the Earth. It seemed like I still had some work to do.

I found Stigma at Secret Garden and worked the moves for a day. Doing my best to memorize my body movements, where the best holds were and which tiny features my shoes could stick too. There is a hidden pocket behind a bulge and if you don't hit it exactly you will slip off. Each time I climbed it, I did it differently, trying my best to find some sort of easy beta that was escaping me when Geniey yelled up, "You're missing a good right foot." I looked down and found that a decent foothold was being blocked from my vision by a bulge in the wall. Happily using the new hold, I finished the climb fitting the new beta into my memory.

"Geniey, you unlocked it for me! I'm sure when I'm fresh I can do it."

A few days later, we came back to Secret Garden. I put the draws up, re-worked the moves, took a long rest, then hopped on, ready to try my best. Passing the small pinch, the sloper, leaping for the small 3 finger pocket and getting my foot on the secret hold below the bulge, I was going up instead of falling. Shaking with excitement I needed to focus for the last 6 metres of climbing. I was almost so excited I almost shook myself off the route (Which I have done before).

Clipping the chains, I felt what can only be described as a short lived happiness. As climbers we work and fail for days, weeks, even months on certain climbs that inspire us. When I finish a difficult climb, I feel that I have accomplished something physical, mental, and personal. There is a relief that the climb is over but also a small tinge of sadness because your personal battle on that climb ends. If you are really trying your best on climbs you must love the process, and unfortunately when you finish the climb, the process ends. It's an interesting juxtaposition. After lowering back down to the ground and getting a hug from Geniey, I say "What's next?"