In every place I’ve lived, I’ve tried to stay involved with climbing. It was harder in some places than in others, but I’m proud to say that I have several wonderful climbing crews across the country.

It was a little harder to find a place to climb when I was in Michigan. Alpena only had a small wall within a gym, and I was too broke to get a membership. When I moved to Saginaw, it took several months for me to figure out that there actually was a gym in town. Then it took me several more months to work up the courage to check it out by myself.

It all sounds very sketchy. I found the climbing gym through Google, then I emailed the contact given on the website. The guy who replied seemed nice, but the directions to the gym included “drive past the loading docks,” and the “farthest door past the pole barn.” Uhhhhh. Where was he leading me? Maybe I’ll hold off on this gym.

After yet another summer without outdoor climbing, I decided I’d just drive into the climbing gym area, and if it didn’t look right, I’d leave.

Turns out, there were a ton of cars in the back of this industrial-looking complex on the outskirts of town. So I took a deep breath, and went in.

I’ve mentioned this many times before. I’m extremely in touch with my introverted-ness. I’ve gotten better as I’ve gotten older, and I’ve also started to care less, but I’ve always been uncomfortable entering places. Whether I’m alone, or in a group, I hate it when people turn around to see who walked in the door. It’s that awkward center of attention thing.

I must have looked super lost when I stepped into the gym, because a couple of people immediately came over to welcome me. OK, these people are nice, and it’s getting less and less sketchy now.

I wasn’t sure what to do the first few times at the gym. Everyone seemed to be working on accomplishing climbs together, but I wasn’t as strong as them, so I worked on easier climbs alone on the other side of the gym. It’s a running joke now – I’m the most unfriendly at the gym, and I don’t talk to anyone. 😉

It didn’t take long for me to find my place within the gym community. I liked to climb solo a lot of the time, but I also joined in with the group when I felt like it. I started going on outdoor trips with them, and officially became part of the crew.

There is never a dull moment with these guys. There is constant joking, laughing, and poking fun at each other. They’ll give you the shirt off their back when you’re in need, then turn around and ask where you found such an ugly article of clothing.

So that’s the background on the Michigan crew. I couldn’t have imagined a better group to climb with for my 3 years in Saginaw.

Each October for one of their birthdays, they take a trip to Red Rock Canyon outside of Las Vegas. There isn’t much in terms of big, long climbs near Michigan, so this is their annual chance to do some super long climbing routes.

Since moving to California, I’ve been able to meet up and climb with them each year. I look forward to it for months!

That weekend finally came in mid-October. I drove out to Las Vegas with one of my regular CA climbing partners, and met up with the first few MI friends who flew in early.

Thursday was our first climbing day. Seven of us started out on the hike together, then eventually split off with our partners to head to a couple of different climbs.

There are several different “types” of climbing. I usually sport climb, which is where you clip into pre-placed bolts along the way. Another type is trad climbing, where you place your own protection devices in cracks and small holes as you climb. Trad climbing is typically cleaner – most of the protective gear used today is removable and leaves little trace, if any, on the rock.

The Red Rock trip is centered around long trad climbs. I’m very new to this style of climbing, and just started placing gear about a year ago. It’s much more of a mental game for me than sport climbing is. I’ve been sport climbing for years, and I trust the heck out of those strong bolts. I’m 99.99% confident that the bolt will hold if I take a big fall on it. On the other hand, I haven’t learned to trust trad gear, yet. I know the gear itself is bulletproof, but I don’t trust how I place it. I supposed all it will take is one big fall to see that it has no problem catching me.

Anyway, I went into the first climbing day very confident. I had led a longer trad route in Yosemite a couple of weeks earlier, and I was ready for several days of similar adventures.

I volunteered to lead the first pitch of our planned route. It was called “Aquarium,” and it wasn’t a very popular route. We had trouble finding the base of the route since the trail to it wasn’t well-traveled. We found a place that sort of looked like the guidebook description, and I started up.

I got to a huge ledge, and belayed my other two friends up to me. Pitch 1 out of 9 was done! We thought we might be on the route, so we kept going. I turned down being the leader at this point because I was nervous about being off-route and getting stuck in a sketchy place with no way out.

We eventually were 100% positive that we had found the route, and climbed up several more fantastic pitches. My positive attitude started to fail me when pitch after pitch I turned down the opportunity to lead. My feet were killing me, and I was losing confidence. At one point, I even dropped my friend’s gear into a crack, and it was lost forever.

I was happy to reach the top. All that was left was an hour or two to get down. The guidebook said to find a rappel station on the west side of the rock, then follow the cairns down the steep slabs to the gully trail. Sounded long, but easy.

I mentioned it wasn’t a very popular route. The rappel station was nowhere to be found on any side of the rock. Maybe the guidebook writers were mistaken and no one has climbed it to correct them, or maybe the gear has been removed since the guidebook was published. Who knows. My friends are much better mountain goats than me, and had no problem exploring surrounding rock towers, almost 1000 feet above the ground, trying to find the rappel spot.

Heights have never bothered me, but I’m also always safely tied into a rope. For the first time ever, I felt irrational fear. I can easily step across a 1 foot gap. But put that gap 1000 feet in the air where a fall will be fatal, and all of a sudden I can’t do it. Knowing that you’re being irrational doesn’t make you feel better – there is no reasoning with your brain. Thank goodness for my understanding friends. They never made me feel like I was holding them back. I like to think I can easily keep up with anyone, but boy, did I feel like such a baby!

Long story short, I pushed through some uncomfortable scrambling, climbing, and a steep walk-off. I was a slowpoke, but I made it. Thanks to my partners for literally talking me off the ledge. I’ve never been happier to change out of my climbing shoes and be back on a less-steep hiking trail.

Back at our hotel, we met up with more of our group who had flown in while we were climbing. I had a great time explaining my hardships of the day, which had transformed from embarrassing into laughable events by that point.

I convinced my partner to climb shorter sport routes with me on Friday so I could redeem myself. The difference in my attitude was amazing – I was back on cloud nine. We climbed at a popular rock, but only encountered two other groups of two that day. The coolest thing about climbing is meeting all the like-minded people. I feel like instant friends with about 90% of them. The first pair we climbed alongside were visiting from Canada. The second pair were getting a few climbs in before having to go to their drive-through wedding. I got a kick out of them – who needs to do hair and makeup on their wedding day? Climbing is far more important. 😉

My favorite part of that day was getting on a climb that was a little above my pay grade. My partner and I worked through it together – we clipped as many bolts as we could until we got tired, then the other tried to get a little farther. I took my first 2 big falls outdoors, which is a huge milestone for me! The less scared I am to fall, the less I will think about falling, and the harder I will be able to climb. If you’re focused on being scared of falling, then you’re not focused on the climb.

My last day in Red Rock was another long trad day. It would be more of a social day – we had three groups of two climbing together. It was an easy 5 pitch route called “Cat in the Hat,” and I agreed to lead the whole thing.

I was slow, but fine for the first 3 or 4 pitches. I started to get mentally exhausted right before the last pitch. I wanted my partner to lead it, but he encouraged me to try. I had my other 4 friends cheering me on from the ledge below. So I tried it.

There was a long distance between protection about 3/4 of the way up. The crack tapered off, so I couldn’t place any more gear. I was about 15 feet above my last piece of gear, and I had another 10 or 15 feet until my next opportunity of protection. That would make for a HUGE fall, and like I’ve mentioned, I don’t trust the gear to hold. I finally had my mental breakdown, climbed down to my last piece of gear, and had my partner lower me back down to the ledge. I was mentally spent, but also proud of myself for trying!

My partner finished the route, and I had no problem following him up safely on a rope. The climb was well within my ability, but our brains are so powerful!

5 rappels later, our group was back on solid ground. I decided that day that I’m not a trad climber. I will happily follow a partner up these long climbs, but I can do without the route-finding and placing my own gear.

I’ve never learned so much about myself on a climbing trip before. I’m so fortunate to have so many supportive and encouraging climbing partners with the perfect balance of motivation and acceptance of my defeat. It’s a different bond than any other friendship – you trust these people with your life, and they trust you. It’s a bonus that we can have so many laughs, inside jokes, and humorous experiences along the way.

I’m already looking forward to next year’s climbing trip. Maybe I’ll be more comfortable on gear by then, maybe not. Either way, I climb for fun and for the comradery. I’m not going to the Olympics or seriously training for a big competition. It’s all about the experiences and the people you meet along the way. Life is short – make the most of it by finding your happy place. 🙂