In our infinite wisdom and expansive knowledge of weather systems, we decided that heading 65 miles south would surely bring us better meteorological conditions. True, there wasn’t much snow on the ground, and no, no precipitate fell from the sky during our stay, but Joe’s Valley was not what a Californian would call warm. Temperatures dropped down to 20 degrees at night, the dogs’ water bowl froze, and the inside of our rain fly was covered in frost from the condensation from our breaths freezing during the night.
Fortunately, we came armed and prepared with footy pajamas, which we proudly strutted around camp wearing. Chelsea’s jams sport rocket ships and I am rocking the sports balls model. How could you go wrong when wearing a full body fleece suit?
Despite the cold temps of the night, the weather actually warmed up to pleasant sending temps during the day. Cooler weather means better friction on the rock and some climbers seek out cold, crisp days to send their projects. We stayed in our sleeping bags until late morning, and when the sun was sufficiently shining we would wake up and go explore the vast boulder fields of Joe’s Valley. Joe’s is on BLM land, which is a great, great thing! It means that camping is free and there are basically no regulations, so the dogs had an awesome time running free, exploring and exhausting themselves during our stay.
Chelsea and I don’t boulder too much, and if you were to watch us try you would probably understand why. We spend more time sitting on our crashpads lounging around than we do climbing, and once we decide to attempt a boulder problem, we often make it partway up and then look down, wimp out, and down climb. This is not to say that I don’t enjoy bouldering, because I do like it when the circumstances are right. Circumstances are right when the following conditions exist: there are spotters and crash pads, good landings and short problems, my psyche is high, I’m not too hungry or thirsty, the temperature is 67 degrees, I’ve eaten pancakes for breakfast, I’m wearing the right shoes and my Prana pants, the rock is pretty and the problem is not too hard. Har har. I like to boulder. Sometimes.
Anyway… in thinking about bouldering and climbing in general and how I love to do it, and how much time I am devoting to it, I also start to wonder why I climb. In comparison to the best, my abilities are almost embarrassingly insignificant. I was incredibly stoked to send a V5 in Joe’s, my third problem at that grade. Angie Payne recently became the first woman to send V13. Grades are hard to explain, and quite controversial these days but it does not suffice to say Payne climbs as hard as me +8. No, that won’t do at all. Maybe it would do to say that Payne climbs 8 times harder than me, or even exponentially harder. Take the V5 I did in Joe’s, tilt it so that it is at a 45 degree angle with the ground, make the crimps even smaller, and add 8 or 10 extra moves and you might have something close to the Automator, the V13 that Payne did.
Do I feel bad that I do not climb as hard as the best? No, not at all. I feel extremely happy that I can be stoked about the level that I climb at. For me, climbing is a very personal thing- an escape, a means of dealing with the outside pressures of the world. I climb for myself, for the pleasure that it brings me, and not to satisfy anyone else or anyone else’s notion of what climbing should be. I don’t feel that I need to climb “hard” to be happy or to be successful. Who’s to say what “hard” is anyway. It’s quite possible that I had to try harder to climb that V5 than many people have to try to climb V10.
In her interview in the October issue of Urban Climber, Angie Payne says,
“I realize that when climbing is all I have- if I were a professional climber 24/7- I’d really lose my motivation for climbing… It’s hard for me to think about making a living for the rest of my life from climbing because it takes the enjoyment out of it. I have a much harder time staying motivated when I don’t have other things in my life to balance it out.”
On a much smaller scale, I am realizing that same thing on this trip. This trip is about climbing and climbing is all that has been on the agenda. However, I have noticed that I have gotten extremely lazy when it comes to climbing these days. I take more rest days, do fewer routes on our ‘on’ days and have shied away at trying harder routes. I didn’t really connect what was happening until a recent conversation with a non-climber. She helped me realize that when there is only one thing that you have to do, you tend to want to do it less. Obviously, this is not a have to situation, it is a get to. I am extremely blessed to be able to be taking this trip, I am completely enamored with climbing, but I am also realizing that I need balance. I have always wondered where the line gets drawn between work and play. When you make your passion into a career for example, do you lose some of your enthusiasm for that activity? I have always been passionate about animals and used to think that I wanted to be a vet. After much pondering, I was able to discern that yes I love animals, but no I do not want to make a career out of that love. When I switched my major to Recreation, I wondered if trying to make playing outside my job would make playing outside less enjoyable and more of a chore. I worried that I might ruin it for myself. 
Now I am beginning to see that life requires balance. If your life centers solely on one thing, the scale will begin to tip and before you know it you will lose your equilibrium and go teetering off an edge. On this trip I am enjoying having time to finally sit down and read some novels. It is wonderful to get lost in the pages of a book, not because you are literally lost in the nonsensical words of a textbook, but because you are on a journey through the eloquently written words of a talented author. I am experiencing great appreciation for my friends and family because being away makes you miss them and realize that there are voids when they are not there. I am discovering the way that nature makes me feel whole and yet very empty at the same time as I search for a way to fill the gap of someone who is no longer here. Balance. As the editor of Urban Climber, Andrew Tower says, “It’s like we all forget we participate in the most insignificant activity on the planet. We are rock climbers.” We climb up rocks. The hard way. For no particular reason at all. How serious can you really be? :-)
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