Motivation

The expiration date on that carton of Northeast Milk is quickly approaching, and I find myself struggling to understand my motivation to do much of anything. In High School, I believe such a sentiment has been labeled Senioritis, but high school is also contrived and constricting, things that climbing (at least, to rock climbers) is not. But the feeling that comes over me when beginning an essay for my second semester AP English class is all too similar to the feeling I get when trying to make plans to climb. I want to finish the essay, and obviously I want to go climb, but I'm not at all invested in the work I'll do to accomplish the assignment, and similarly, I feel detached from the things that used to motivate me to get up and out on the rock.

In the past, a lingering project or the excitement and freshness of a new area, or the thought of putting my paws on something I hadn't tried before was more than enough to saturate my brain with the type of tenacity necessary to make hiking with structurally inefficient packs and spending a day with smelly climbers and far too many black flies simply to fall, a lot, off of a lot of problems seem like a perfectly reasonable idea.

But six years of climbing here have exhausted a lot of my immediate options. I've completed most of my old projects, and the remaining all feel too difficult to finish before I leave this August. The boulderfields, once ripe with possibilities and new, unexplored blocks and problems hidden behind the next crop of pines are now more familiar than the streets of my hometown.

Interestingly enough, it's only when I exhaust the initial attractions of climbing that I begin to see and appreciate the facets of the sport that I hadn't considered to be as important. I've come a very long way from the my gym-rat days of Electric City Rock Gym, where a bouldering session generally meant four hours of flailing on V2's or chatting it up with the local homeless before they set off to chew on barbie doll heads and/or fling their fecal matter at the nearest roadkill. Now, a gym session consists of flailing on V4s and the homeless problem has been contained.

Seriously though, while grade-chasing has never been a motivation of mine, mapping my strength and measuring my ability is slowly becoming the main reason I get psyched on going to areas like Nine Corners and Great Barrington. Repeating old projects helps me to appreciate where I've been and where I'm at, while simultaneously providing the best kind of training for what's to come.

Lately, I've also made a couple trips up to McKenzie, one of which included a large group of new climbers, a few of which had never been outside. Seeing them really realize what climbing is all about, and watching them humbled by the apparent infinite mystery of a new boulderfield is incredible. I realize, seeing them try at Great Roof of China and Brock Lee Soars and even the mossy, dirty, unnamed slabs, that I have progressed in parts of my being vastly more significant than strength, my place as a climber in the northeast is much different than theirs, and if nothing else, that is enough to get me on the road at eight in the morning on a Saturday with a coffee in the cup holder and a crash pad in the trunk.

-WB

I have a new camera, D7000, expect more picture posts.

Closure

While some stay put, rooted to the place they sprouted eager and green into the world, never straying from the same and deriving pleasure in making it feel different, others seek out a more turbulent path. To these anxious and capricious wandering souls, the world appears vast and ripe, and to live without experiencing the different contexts and settings one may exist within would be simply unacceptable. Such desires may spawn from a connection with nature, and so it follows that many climbers take the latter path. Zigging and zagging and exploring endlessly, tasting the culture, the scenery, and of course the rock at each stop on their chaotic journey.

This August I will be leaving my home in New York for a dorm in Boulder, Colorado. Things are going to move and change very quickly in the upcoming months, and with any massive change one begins to consider the things they'll leave behind. As a climber, my mind drifted to a number of projects scattered about the Northeast. I started my life as a climbing here six years ago. From those early days in Electric City Rock Gym, I've come quite a ways. I can say I am more than familiar with all of the major and lesser known crags of the area. Contributing when I could, my friends and I even managed to develop a few of our own, an effort that continues daily (check out the new cliff at Pinnacle courtesy of The Verticalife). I guess my point is that although I am ecstatic to begin another chapter in my life, I'm going to miss it here. I'm going to miss all the shitty weather, all the black flies, all the chosspiles. I'm going to miss fall conditions too, and the amazing people I've met.

But now I suppose I've gotten off track a bit from my intentions for this post. This past weekend, Tyler and I arranged to go to McKenzie Pond. Followers of this blog know that McKenzie has always been one of my  favorite Adirondack haunts, and my friends know that I've had a mild obsession with one particular problem there...

The past few years, battling awful Summer temps and a severe mental block, I have been working Flux Capacitor - V8. Excellent weather and a longing to climb on the giant glacial erratics drew me back to the pond, and upon waking quickly and pleasantly at 7:00am, I knew the day would hold great things (I rarely wake pleasantly, especially at seven in the morning).

On the drive up, I spoke with Tyler about the future a bit. Tyler is due for quite a bit of change himself as he is getting married soon, and moving to Massachusetts. Due to the timing of things, Tyler will return to Mass. from his travels just in time for me to depart for Boulder, and that sucks. I suddenly understood that this trip may be one of the last times him and I get to climb together. Silently, we let this notion settle in, not letting it ruin our psyche and instead turning into even more reason to make the day awesome.

And it was. An hour into the day, I found myself sitting on top of Flux Capacitor. I was hot, spent, bleeding from three fingers and experiencing something I hadn't felt yet in climbing. I spent more time projecting Flux than any other boulder problem in my career as a climber, and to finally have the days of hard work behind me... well, it felt good, to say the least. I took it all in for a few minutes on top of that boulder, I thought hard about where my life was going, and what would be happening in the next few months. The notion of being completely displaced is intimidating and jarring, but exciting as well, and I can happily say that I have no idea where I'll go or what will happen.

Here are some pictures from the past few weeks.
Thanks, as always, for reading.

French Canadian friend entering the top, V4 section of Flux Capacitor - V8

JP on the crux move.

Sticking the crimp.

Squeezing on Slobodon - V5

Not the best terrain for a new pair of dragons...

Checking out the battle scars from Flux

 Paid a short visit to Rumney with Jaysen, Ryan and Casey, a new friend from the gym. It was certainly a humbling experience, but I walked away with a better head and understanding of roped climbing, and the confidence to continue trying to build my endurance.

Shaking out on the crux holds of Waimea - 5.10d

Ryan styling the massive layback flake on The Man with a Hueco in his Tights - 5.11b

Jaysen, chillin' hard between burns.

-WB

Against All Odds

Sometimes I wonder if nature has it in for us climbers. The conflict between climbers and the forces of nature is an ancient struggle that one cannot avoid becoming uncomfortably familiar with if they invest just a modicum of time into the sport. I mean, we all know the routine: the frantic rifling through mixed and inconsistent weather reports calling for rain, snow, sleet and everything in between until we come across that one website calling for clear skies and a high of forty-five. For most of us, this is enough to warrant a day out at the crag, but even if you never find that golden weather report, it doesn't matter. Come Saturday morning, you'll be three exits deep on your local highway, fueled by the naive hope that some magical combination of wind direction, exposure and foliage kept your project safe from the slow creep of the wet. Such is the blight of the weekend warrior.

Still, sometimes it's worth it.

...

Hands on Rabid Wolverine - V9

For three weeks prior, Tyler and I had tried to make plans. But Tyler is a busy guy, and flaky in the most curious way. He's the type of person who will cancel to go fly-fishing in Colorado, or mountain biking in Switzerland. However, I suppress my jealousy of his lifestyle on those rare occasions when he is actually home on a weekend because, quite frankly, climbing with Tyler is awesome. He is consistently psyched on not only climbing, but just about everything, and one of the most genuine people I've come across in my travels. Perhaps the most interesting part of climbing with Tyler is the extreme differences in our technique and style. We both approach the same problem very differently, and because we are often working the same problem, this results in a greater understanding of what is possible. Working a project with Tyler, a sort of mutualism develops between us, increasing both of our chances of success.

Still, success was not on our minds the Friday before we planned to embark to Lost City, as Tyler and I exchanged texts of reluctance regarding climbing conditions. We we're still psyched, but hesitant, and thrown out of sorts by the steady snow falling just outside our windows.

Lost City is a place I have grown strangely fond of. Perhaps it is the seclusion offered in its massive talus field. Situated behind the main ridge and guarded by a one mile hike through old woods, one develops a feeling absent all too often at a Gunks crag. You can stand atop a block facing New Paltz, and be greeted by an expanse of green pine and mountainous terrain, rather than the standard radio-towers and farmland that make-up the vistas at at the Carriage Road.

...

The morning brought sunny skies and wind which blew in a resurgence of excitement. I had a few lingering projects at Lost City as well, and if the conditions were just right (and my gut told me they were), today had the potential to be epic.

Halfway down I-87, however, the skies turned grey. Dark grey. A light fog developed as we hurtled through  a light flurry of snow. Soon that flurry grew to a white out, snow falling ferociously all around us. Besides the rumble of six cylinders pounding southward, silence fell over the road. The penetrating quiet occupied not only our hearing, but our sight, as every direction offered the same dull shade of whitish grey. I would compare the sensation to sitting in a cloud.

"What is going on?" Tyler questioned incredulously, then followed with "Are we going climbing right now" We could just as easily have been within the bowels of a wormhole, heading towards some mysterious, wintry dimension.

Suddenly, the skies opened once more and sunlight broke through the dissipating fog. Nothing had changed in the wormhole, the road was still a grey expanse of colored lines, the road signs told us we were still on track, yet some uneasy feeling within our souls told us that, for better or worse, something was definitely different now.

...

The gate was locked, an obstacle Tyler and I hadn't anticipated. Two inches of steel piping separated our car and the road from a parking spot and a way in, but we had come so far, and we weren't about to turn around. We ended up parking at the Upper Trapps parking lot, and hiking a trail to Split Rock, adding 5 minutes onto our hike. Fifteen more minutes and we were breathing heavy under Rabid Wolverine - V9. Disappointment flooded our bodies upon realizing that, after all we had done to get here, to do this, the worst hold on the problem (a half-pad, sloping gaston crimp) was slowly seeping water.

Inspecting the Wet Crimp

After warming up, we quickly got to work on the project, working out our own specific beta. The location of the climb is strange: perched upon a suspended stone platform ten feet in the air, the edge and a brutal fall into rolling talus dangerously close to the landing. Nobody ever falls off, luckily, and yet it still adds some dangerous quality to the line. The climb is also incredibly unique in its style, and centers around a crucial double toe-hook on an arete, which requires you to arrange yourself horizontally on the rock, then control your weight to move vertically. Of course, the key to that control lies in maintaining grip on the gaston-crimp, which continued to seep despite our efforts in aquatic engineering.

Setting up for the Reach.

Despite the less-than-ideal conditions, we were making consistent progress, and each new high-point that Tyler and I reached proved to vital to maintaining our frustrations. Then suddenly it happened, somehow things fell into place and with static fluidity Tyler linked through the moves, arriving at the top surprised, winded, and ecstatic. I followed in his footsteps with my own surprise ascent, nearly falling after the crux and then again on the fun moderate moves before the top-out, making the climb a bit more desperate than I would have liked.

Still it was my first V9, and Tyler's first time approaching and climbing a V9 in one session, which is good.
Just as the unlocking of a new move or the linking of a certain section can help motivate us to continue climbing a route or problem, unlocking a new grade or climbing at a higher level can motivate us to continue training.

Climbing can be very frustrating. When pushing ourselves on something at our limit, we dispense an considerable amount of emotion into the rock. The issue is that rock can only absorb that investment, never reciprocating, never lightening up, never changing except with the weather. Some days, however, as impossible as it sounds, the rock does. Some days it feels like a fleeting moment of perfection when everything falls into place was created just for you, for that time when you were trying your hardest, with snow squalls and locked gates and wet crimps behind you; the rock sees your commitment and for that ephemeral moment, it lets you win.

I never intended to simply record the frothy ego-spray of self-righteous climbers, I meant to document experiences like this, when through climbing you not only improve your abilities on the rock, but your understanding of life as well.

-WB

Great Barrington Raw Footy

baby i like it raw



Goofing In Great Barrington from Luke Mosca on Vimeo.

Big Up to Lucas for filming something and actually editing it.


*cough* *cough* south video *cough*

-WB

Life and Climbing the Past Few Months

So here we are again. Last October, I promised more frequent updates and honestly, I had every intention to deliver. But I didn't, and I'm sorry. It seems my psyche for sitting down and pounding out a post has dwindled away. That being said, I also feel that if I put my mind to it, a resurgence is more than possible.

As for climbing, this Winter has been kind to us. Not only do we have stellar temps and conditions, with perpetual Fall-like weather, but we have also been blessed with a sick hella dope fresh gym to train at when that weather turns for the worse. A combination of these things and some recent developments in my personal life have resulted in a very happy me. And that's why I'm here. Talking to you guys. Again.

But why are you here? What do you want me to talk about?

I suppose I should begin with the recent ventures of Upstate New York Bouldering. Over the past month or so, I've spent nearly every weekend in Great Barrington, primarily at the speed boulder. Evan has been diligently attempting Roses and Blue Jayes - V13, and the results are promising. Personally, I've turned my efforts to old projects, even sending a few of them! One problem in particular, Big Big Love - V8, felt incredible to send because of how difficult it felt for me just a few weeks earlier.

Honestly, I'm not as stoked on the spray as I used to be. My life lately has taken many an unexpected turn, and I find myself viewing climbing in a completely different light. I see the true value in the action, but more often I find myself thinking about the incredible relationships I've made with people who share no other mutual interest with me. While it feels good to progress, climb stronger and send harder routes and boulders, that feeling pales in comparison to the sensation that comes along with the good times spent with good people climbing.

As for the future, its hard to say. I'd like to promise posts more consistently, but I'm afraid such a pact would be no less empty than they have been in the past. I will say that this blog has provided me an excellent service by allowing me to track and record my physical and emotional progress as a person and rock climber, and it would feel wrong to stop now.

Below, I've added a picture dump to sate your media starved eyes. Although the showcase is quite clearly Great Barrington, pictures from Lost City as well as some of my personal photography appear as well.

the first in a series of diptychs i made for my photo class

the classic narrative

Jaysen Henderson on a classic V1 at Lost City

pinto and i sharing a moment

Evan entering the cruxy slot-crimps of Roses and Blue Jayes - V13

Evan keeping warm by looking like an idiot

Ben sippin on dat haterade, Izzy izznt feelin it

Pinto philosophizing

Evan bein a QT

dat chalk

dem shoes w/ dem colors

Ben

lord of the jet boil

bill on the intro moves of Big Big Love - V7

Evan stickin the crux move on Something From Nothing - V11

again.

Enjoy the incredible temps and keep crushing! I'm not dead yet and I know you're not either, so get out there and tell me about your travels.

As the hitchhiker I picked up on the way to Great Barrington said as he departed my car, "ONWARD!"

-WB

Guys...

I know its been a while... but these past few months have been real tough. It seems I'm still adjusting to work on the weekends and school throughout the week, and its been hard for me to find time to climb midst it all. But guys, that all changes today.

Today, I found out about how radical The EDGE up in halfmoon is. The new gym is in the final stages of construction, with a tentative opening date of Nov. 14th, and I for one could not be more stoked.

Just walking through the building, seeing the walls and that one crazy-ass boulder sent chills down my spine, and the thought of being able to set with seemingly endless holds, creating limitless sequences and problems and routes... I was nearly certain my head would explode.

I'm gonna make a few trips back to that wonderful place a few times this week, with a comprehensive post on the new routes, the people setting them, and the gym itself! STOKED ON IT!!!!!!

For now, here's some media on the whole project:

Facebook Page & Photos

Walkthrough

Southern Adirondack Climbing's Post

I don't know about you guys, but I'm on the EDGE right now.

Hopefully some real rocks will also make their way into my life soon aswell!

-WB

Summertimes.

I know these days posts are scarce, and I apologize for that. The past few weeks of summer have succeeded in completely deminishing my will to do anything productive ever, and unfortunately posting on this blog happens to fall into that category of things I really should probably do, but end up forgetting about due to a plethora of distractions like Netflix, Tumblr and Sour Cream & Onion Chips.

On a real note though, as Biggie once said, things done changed! I have a job now and a license, two very dangerous things to have as a restless teenager. On days when I don't have work, but the rest of the climbing world seems to, I escape alone into the Adirondacks, not only to scour the woods for some magical hidden boulderfield of dreams, but also for another alterior motive, a certain quality within me that I discovered on my first outing. The rolling ocean of pine-covered mountains that makes up the park makes me realize how little of this world I have seen. And walking alone on some trail next to nature just feels right. Something in me really wants to get to know everything about this part of the state.

So far, as far as bouldering goes, these excursions have yielded few results. I found two massive boulders on the hike up to Peaked Mountain (Siamese Ponds Wilderness) but the rock was chossy in spots and lacked featured in crucial areas. Most of the hikes I went on I would discover huge fields full of Smartcar sized boulders. Nobody really likes Smartcars, and to a boulderer, these are the worst kind of rocks. They taunt you and convince you that somewhere there's got to be one big enough to climb, but there rarely is.

Despite all this ranting about the Adirondacks and my Summer and such, I have actually been climbing. I've spent a great deal of time at Hogwarts, bonding with the Borg and regaining strength lost in the spring. Additionaly, Ben and I made trips out to Nine Corners and even McKenzie Pond. Rather than summarize every single trip, I'll sate your media hungry eyes with a photodump! Enjoy and keep reading! I may be lazy, but I haven't forgotten about this blog.

Lake Sacandaga from the Summit of Hadley Mountain

Trail Marker on the way up Severance Hill

Ben trying hard on Shut Up Machine - V9 at McKenzie
Poor conditions made this climb a no go!

Ben cutting loose on Cartwheel - V9 at McKenzie

Ben on another go of Cartwheel.

Me trying hard to reach that sloper on Cartwheel.

Ben on the super-incredible intro moves of Flux Capacitor - V8, McKenzie

Me trying the crux move on Flux.

A stellar shot of the Borg on Flux.

Izzy trying the top-out of her super thin project at Hogwarts, red-tagged fellas, sorry!

The Borg in the flesh setting up for the throw on Squibs SDS - V6

A few final thoughts before I dissappear once again for a few weeks...

1. I'd like to acknowledge Jut and his efforts on Southern Adirondack Climber, it's people and blogs like that that keep the whole community stoked. Not to mention he has more than outdone me in the posting department. Kid is posting like every fifteen god damn minutes! Good on ya!
2. I'd also like to acknowledge Kyle and his comments. I really do appreciate all of the comments you guys post and always read all of them, but Kyle's comments have a certain level of urgent-ridiculousness that actually has a significant effect on how much I post, so good work.
3. I'm looking for someone to hike/camp/climb/explore with in the high peaks region for one weekend in August. If anyone has any interest please, hit me up, I have a new phone number that I can get you if you email me or contact me some other way (facebook, telegraph, a formal letter).

- WB