Sometimes you just need some perspective in life – 600 feet of perspective
By Mark Burnham
Photos by Mark Burnham
I started climbing back in high school, essentially growing up at the local gym. The local community taught me to climb indoors, and eventually outdoors on real rock. But it wasn’t until my first big wall climb that I really fell in love with the sport. Many people don’t understand what we do; one of the most frequent questions I get is “why do you climb?” To answer that you’ll need to know some climbing basics.
To begin, there are three main types of rock climbing. Bouldering involves climbing small- to medium-sized boulders, with foam mats used in place of ropes. Sport climbing involves climbing up cliff faces that have been bolted. This means that all along the climb, metal fasteners have been predrilled into the rock. Climbers attach the rope to these bolts as they reach them. If the climber falls, they’ll fall to the last bolt with the rope being held by your climbing partner.
Traditional climbing also involves climbing up a cliff face, but instead of using bolts for protection, the climber places gear into small cracks. When weight is placed on the gear, it expands and secures in the crack. The climber then clips the rope into this gear. Thus, if the climber falls, they will drop until the rope tautens and the gear catches them. The climber will place gear as they climb so as to never fall too far. This third type of climbing is by far my favourite.
If bouldering is all about strength and movement, sport climbing is about endurance and technique, while traditional climbing is about pure adventure. Not being limited to the height of a boulder or by a path of pre-placed bolts, means that the climber can go anywhere as long as they can find holds and gear placements. The adventure comes from the unknown and the freedom to explore the wall, and definitely the possibility of getting lost on a climb. Furthermore, the climber has to be aware of not only where to place hands and feet, but where to place gear, when to place it, and when to save it for later sections. Running out of gear means long gaps in protection.
Keep in mind that when a climber’s last gear placement is only five feet below them, they not only fall the five feet to that placement, but the five feet below the gear placement as well. Add on the stretch of the rope and small runouts quickly become big falls.
So with all the dangers involved, why do I climb? I could go on and on about the outdoor experience, the friendships with climbing partners, the simple pleasure of climbing, the early mornings with epic views, and the late nights with new stories. But one of the biggest reasons I climb is because I love getting scared. Balancing that very tangible fear of falling with the focus needed to overcome it and complete the climb is an interesting thing. There is a consistent tension when you’re climbing up high, and it doesn’t end until you’ve finished.
It’s not the act of falling or of getting scared I like. I loathe that part. It’s the part after the climb, usually on the descent and the drive home that I love. Life is a fragile thing, and getting scared reminds me of that simple fact. It reminds me to forget about the noise in our society and to focus on those everyday things that are so easy to take for granted.
I’m not trying to convince everyone to start climbing (though you should definitely try it). I love to climb and many people won’t. I’m trying to convince you to get yourself scared — or at the very least, to get outside of your comfort zone — once a day. Force yourself to chat with someone in class you don’t know, join a club you know nothing about, or even just stay up on campus after class for a pint. It probably won’t reaffirm the fragility of life, but you might have a little fun in the process.
