"The best climber in the world is the one that has the most fun."
- Alex Lowe

"Because I know there is consequence, it keeps me honest, it keeps me scared. Because I know I can't get away with slacking off, that the thing which happens after mediocrity is the ground. It's a game. It's a test. It is the way I live my life."
- Mark F. Twight


I strive to live my life on the sharp end of the rope. In every moment of each day I try to live it with a purity and truth to myself, friends and community. Like Ahab has his white whale the ice and rock, steel and sweat is apart of what I use to define my heart and hopes, dreams and desires. I am a climber. Climbing makes me face any secret doubts and fears I keep tucked away for now one to see. I face all that is ugly and painful. I fight against my white whale and through my vocation I am transformed.

It has been my plan to lead High Exposure for a year. I began dreaming of this moment since I first was introduced to the Gunks close to one year ago. I was hungry to learn to lead and one day climb High E in style. High E is a gunks classic. A three star climb. Selected Climbs in the Northeast calls it, " one of the most famous climbs in North America…" It is certainly the classic route in the Shawangunks Mountains or the Gunxs. High Exposure is not the hardest technical route at the Gunks. It is graded a 5.6 +, moderate whereas twilight zone, considered the hardest route in the Gunks, is a 5.13B. While the most notorious climber in the world Chris Sharma is pulling 5.15 sport routes that only he and a handful of people in the world can accomplish.

Still High Exposure is a significant climb. It's name is spoken with respect by climbers. The first ascent of High E. was by Hans Kraus and Fritz Wiessner in 1941. One a basic level the name says it all. High. Exposure. It is a two pitch trad climbing, often done in three pitches to reduce rope drag with PG pro or pretty good protection. The last pitch is the money pitch with an exposed crux and steep overhanging finish for the last 70 feet.

High E is also one of the most popular routes in the gunks. Therefore it comes as no surprise that we had to wait to get on the route. And there was a party of two immediately behind us as we made our way to the notorious big belay ledge at the start of the final pitch. And yet another party following them. As I knew I was going to take my time with this route I added this to my worry.

On the way to the climb this morning I repeated a mantra to myself mentally preparing myself for the climb.

I believe in my skill
I believe in my strength
I am bring my a game
I can do this.

I believe in my partnership.
I believe in the gear.
I believe in the rope.
I can do this.

It works…I told myself none too convincingly. As I fiddled finding the perfect parking space for my truck in the mostly empty West Trapps Parking Lot. Minutes before I was greeted with a shower of hugs, birthday wishes and a questioning look. Are you ready their eyes asked? What's the plan for the day was one person's question. They already knew the answer.

Am I ready for this?

Can I tell you a secret. I barely remember climbing High Exposure the first time at the beginning of July 2007. Like the first few times I had sex, what I remember about climbing High E is a jumble of flaying limbs, fear and sweat. That and I decided to buy a condo on High E.

Indeed. See the first time I climbed High E. It was a busy Friday and the party behind us contained a happy Brooklyn transplant who was more than happy to offer me beta on buying a home in New Paltz, NY. In fact P. convinced me that I didn't need a backyard, this, he said as we stood on a ledge 200 feet up looking out at the town of New Paltz is your backyard.

P and I got so excited about me moving to NP that I slipped and fell on my butt at the very start of the last pitch on High E. And although I took only a small fall I fell on my tail bone and it really hurt. My pain and embarrassment mixed with the excitement of meeting a new friend who was actually helping me make a plan to move to New Paltz made the last pitch of the most famous rock climb in the world… a little less memorable. There was just too much to take in. I was a noob, a gumby a gomer climber flaying about on the steep face, flooded with images of apartments while I tried to remember how to climb.

So as started the last pitch of High Exposure I wasn't exactly sure what to expect. My memories of the fall, the discussion with P. the balmy hot day and the scary feeling of being on one of my very first multiple pitch climbs was a "full hot order."

I believe in my skill
I believe in my strength
I am bring my a game
I can do this.

I believe in my partnership.
I believe in the gear.
I believe in the rope.
I can do this.

I am at the crux. I pause to go over my mental check list starting with place a piece of pro. Big Blue my huge C4 cam. Perfection. Bomber. Solid. My gear was good. I am ready. I edge out around a small corner while in tight crouch. Inching to the right trying to avoid the void beneath me. Lean out. Reaching out stretched on my right side. My arm darts fingers searching for those good sweet vertical buckets. Was my gear really good?

Wait, is big blue over-cammed? Carolyn you do not know do you? do you know, you think you know. Then why are you thinking about it. I knew this even as my negative brain told me it wasn't. Tried to undercut my confidence and cut me down.

Fall.

Will you shut the fuck up your not going to fall. you don't fall here.
No. no fall.

But. But my brain processes the moves. Left to right. lean back. Arm stretched. weight is... My weight is..???...

I can do this. My left shoulder brushing against the roof, my left armed seemingly pinned down. Something's not right. Its not right here. How the fuck do I do this? I lean out. Out. My weight shifts. Balance. Balance. My weight is too far right. If I pull this move I'm going to fucking fall into fucking space.

I move back. I try again. And again it is all wrong. I am backing off High E.

In a panic my birthday dream dying before me I down climb back to the ledge feeling utterly wasted and defeated. I am panting and beyond starving. I am thirsty but my partners Gatorade tastes like a heavy syrupy pee. Its hot and heavy, boiled in a camel hydration pack. It is not satisfying. I suck it down.

My partner is quietly encouraging. He is trying to be soothing. I hate myself right now. I have lost control. Fucking dumb goddamn idea. I ask myself if I can live with being defeated on this my 40th birthday. I tell myself it doesn't matter and surprisingly I trust my simple words. It doesn't matter. I can do this I will do this but it doesn't matter if I can't do this today. I can walk off I will walk if this doesn't feel right.

I make my way back up the face towards the crux. My vision is both telescoped and wild. Racing at light speed everything still feels like its happening so slowly. I talk myself through the gear. the rope. the belay. my partners voice. confidence. My body. Left arm. Right arm. God I am thirsty. I. I. Am I. am I losing it here....

Breath. Calm. Breath. Breath. Reduce. slow down and think slowly. On step at a... Fuck I am going to fall. I am going to fall. I am going to fall. Fall.

Stop. Look. The gear is bomber. Its great. you know it is. You have experienced partners. you have people who might suggest an alternative climb if they didn't think my gear placements were solid. You are doing this right.

I want this lead. I want it. I've claimed it. declared it. Everybody knows my plan. Carolyn do you want to walk do the hall to home room with everyone know your a fucking pussy who backed off from High E. now my dream twists and twists inside me like a cancerous friend. I need it but do I need it bad enough to risk a fall here. Is that necessary. Am I just being a fucking pussy. Everyone fucking falls your never going to be really on the sharp end unless you put yourself to the test.

Is this what I wanted for my birthday.

But backing off is an option. I've down climbed it once. I can do it again. I will back off if I have to because it may be the right thing to do.

I will not try to pull a move when I don't think feels right. I will not wing it just to prove something to the climbing gods. This is my day not some climbing SAT. I will decide when its right to push the limits.

This time I keep my left leg low and stretched out to the far left. I am still in a tight squat but my weight is more evenly distributed. I reach around for the bucket on the right. My left shoulder is lower and I inch it on the ceiling and around. I grip the right handhold as best I can. My hands are soaked and there is no fucking way I am chalking up right here. I lean…And I know I have it. It feels…got it. My body feels like its hanging over time and space. I have the left hand hold. I am up and around. The face is steep and overhanging but I've got this far. I make sure I am in a good stance. Right hand has the hold and I place my yellow cam to the left. Bomber. I am doing it. I got this. I got this.

I top out and I am too tired to cry but I am a torrent of emotion. I feel dead and alive. I climbed High E.

High E. was not an one-off event. And I for sure wasn't operating at my best peak performance. It was a learning experience. One of my few 5.6 routes and my very first 5.6+. This was the fruit of hard work and practice. loving the rock and learning from great mentors. I will push myself again. at my speed, my pace, my plan. All the climbs ahead will be fun. hard. challenging. inspiring and fun. I will push the limits but in a deliberate and studied fashion with the greatest care to safety and self care. My goal was to climb High E on my 40th birthday. and I achieved my goal. I did it. I am only testing myself. I am on the sharp end of a life I create each day. Today I turned 40.

* (for photos of the climb ck my blog at http://brooklyngoilnnp.livejournal.com

I havent been working out as much since getting back from my extended climbing trip at the end of April. For reasons not totally clear to me I am not as inspired to workout as I was over the winter. The spring has brought many climbing opportunities and I pick climbing over the gym.  Despite my uneven level of enthusiasm I am still working out. Here's last night's workout at crossfit NP:

6 jumping pull ups
9 pushups
12 squats
as many rounds as possible in 20 minutes.

I did 12 rounds. Or 72 pull ups, 108 push ups, and 144 squats in 20 minutes.

As with many crossfit sessions I felt like I was going to faint numerous times. I would go down to do a push up and feel like I was just going to pass out from dizziness and exhaustion. Fun.

Ran 5 miles a day for the previous 4 days and climbed over the weekend. Today its raining. Id like to run but I dunno. Tomorrow I am back at crossfit at the crack of dawn.

that's all I got.

My sense of humor failed me last night as Jon Stewart took the low road in explaining the election results in West Virginia. If there is a better example of prog elitism in America I can't think of it. Fuck me. Why does the liberals have this fucking blindspot when they think they are so godamn smart. They can't even pronounce appalachian correctly.

Fact is Hillary Clinton (and John Edwards) have consistently done a better at appealing to the working class. Obama's message has been more ephemeral from the get go, white folks arent the only sector of the electorate to notice this problem. His recent subtle revamping of message is a good one but lets face facts his revamp was in response to Clinton's successes.

Clinton deserves scorn too for her ever so subtle race baiting leading up to the West Virginia primary. But leftist especially white leftist seem too comfortable with this finger pointing. There is never an attempt to look at the issues of people's lives. Instead we're offer platitudes about anti-racism. Which is vitally important but an insufficient framework through which to move people when they are struggling to feed themselves especially when your mocking them for being stupid.

Fact is CNN and Fox News have done a much better job of explaining the needs and issues of the white working class. They actually spoke to folks and did interviews that spoke about issues deeper than some bigoted sound bit Stewart used. Is it surprising Larry the Cable guy has sold out specials on Comedy Central Jon?

The douche off with Stewart in trucker hunting cap, "southern accent" and jug was a fucking cariacture that would have any ethnic minority in the streets today in front of comedy central. Ahhh it fucking kills me. I wanna punch Stewart. Ahhh. I hope Dennis Leary rips Stewart a new asshole tonight.

watch Stewart go off below:

..

The newly MTV purchased FUSE network has seen a makeover. Less videos by indy artist more bad tv reality shows. Until now. Thursday nights at 10pm check out new episodes of The Brooklyn Way a reality series on Bensonhurst own The Lordz an old school Irish-Italian hip hop collective that never made it to the heights of hip hop but have kept it together and kept struggling all of these years.

The Lordz (formerly Lordz of Brooklyn) were founded by two brothers in the heart of white Bensonhurst just a few years after the brutal murder of Yusef Hawkins. The Lordz grew up on the same streets but were draw not only to hip hop through local discos and house parties. The Lordz went deeper into hip hop culture booking Public Enemy's first ever brooklyn concert in Bay Ridge no less, becoming enfamous and famous graffiti artists in their younger years and MCs. In fact it was Chuck D of PE who encouraged the brothers to form a band and put out music. Take that Eminem.

Now nearing 40 The Lordz are still struggling to make ends meat with large Catholic families, homes still in the heart of Bensonhurst and blue collar jobs. Check out the show on FUSE or Youtube, its worth it. There stories are important ones. They took a road towards hip hop as an art form and in the process challenged themselves and their community.

From 1992's first cd. There names kill me. Dino Bottz. Cmon! that is gold right there. and mixing the theme to Saturday Night Fever with classic rock. killer. Check out there other videos on youtube they include fantastic old school footage of them tagging trains in the early 80s and Coney back in the day of the Warriors.

Also check out this dance new wave classic filmed at the Funhouse disco in Manhattan. A few years too young for the Funhouse, I grew up seeing the funhouse as a kind of Brooklyn trip to Mecca. Note a very cool mural to the Funhouse appears in my first zine. The mural was not far from the house I grew up in located in Gravesend Brooklyn. It was a grand time for music and culture with hip hop, new wave, disco and house all intermixing on the dance floor. Check out the pizza, working class italian goils and awesome dancing. And look at the way the blue collar italian boyz are dressed at minus 1:54 in the video. Many a flatlands kid could be found at J Park in a headband, half t-shirt, tight atheletic shorts, knee high football socks and sneakers on a saturday afternoon playing handball. It was the 80s.

I spent the past 5 days climbing. Even on Saturday, during consistent rain, we were out and about at 8:15am moving slowly up the slippery talus fields in search of gunx rainy day climbs (climbs that don't get as wet). It was a futile effort but for some reason I didn't care. I was caught up in the moment, enjoying the weight of my pack, the familiarity of the boulders and rocks underfoot. And the increasing chill on my skin.

On this day we bailed after one climb a pained effort on Jackie, a route we'd both done before. The combination of steady rain and low 50 degree temps making for the cliffs inhospitable on this day. After a few attempts and a quick discussion we retreated and treated ourselves first to coffee and Danishes at the Muddy Cup, the an afternoon matinee of Iron Man which is a very charming picture and then a huge home cooked climbers lunch dinner of pasta, steak and pork with a cheap red wine. I definitely recommend the Tony Stark flick. I must confess matinees are $4.00 in New Paltz. Indeed. Four dollars movies still exist. A night show. A night show is only $6.50. Ha. So I may be bias, I'm a cheap date, I think the film manages to be both smart, entertaining and original, something notable in the ever increasing field of comic book movies.

The rest of the weekend was filled with days on the rock. Starting with damp days on Friday, pouring rain on Saturday and gorgeous days Sunday, Monday and Tuesday. We aren't the quickest and most efficient climbers (the later of which I am working on) but we still got quite a few climbs in.

I led three climbs over the weekend. I lead 3 pines. It was a fantastic long line, long considered the best 5.3 in the gunks. I didn't get sketched at all on the route even though I ran into a black snake in a crack on the chimney near the top of the second pitch. Black snakes are not know to be poisonous (although a woman's dog, in the later stages of life, died after being bit, what is definitely true is they do bit and the bit hurts. And at the top out on the GT ledge there is a family of vultures living in a crack/cave. Didn't see them this year but still kinda neat. We got slightly lost on the way down, not knowing exactly where the rap station was. As I was the first down, it is pretty scary rapping off a shear cliff side 300 feet up and not knowing where you are going. I eventually found second rap station, 40 feet to my left which meant I had to traverse by climbing while hanging in the air. I then attached myself to the rap ring and untied from the rope leaving myself having in mid-air with no way to get down if anything were to happen to my partner as he followed me down. A fall here would be very bad. And as most climbing accidents occur on descent including on rappel I was striving to be extra extra careful. My partner came down and everything ended perfectly fine. We later discovered a closer set of rings, located behind a large tree which would have lead to us avoiding the long traverse and making things a bit safer all around. But getting disoriented on a climb is par for the course. Shit does happen. What's important is to be safe and keep your cool and work out the problem.

A day earlier I had a harder time climbing rusty trifle. The route isn't any harder technically but the climb is dirty making your hands and feet slip ever so slightly as you make your way up the route. The slipperiness ate at my confidence. I started to let fear enter my positive self talk and got sketched out. The crux was a dirty seam to a dirty vertical crack with a small tree in the way with little protection up to another dirty seam. I put in 3 pieces of pro (to protect a likely fall) and after over thinking the moves I bailed and climbed down. This I felt was an important and value lesson. Down climbing out of what I felt to be a situation that was over my head. I didn't fall. I didn't ask to be lower. I didn't get totally freaked. I instead retraced my steps and safely got off the route. A success I think. I feel very good about my decision and skill in negotiating my way out of it.

Lastly just yesterday I climbed Bunny another classic 5.4. It's a 1 long 100 foot pitch that wanders from a crack into an easier set of jugs to two wandering traverses ending with a scary looking overhanging chimney. It was a fantastic climb. It scared me but I managed to pull it off with grace. The one thing is I ran out of gear. Yup. I ran out of protection on the route. Turns out Bunny is know to eat pro as its long plus it wanders. I had about 12 slings with me, more or less for clipping one piece of pro every 9-10 feet thus reducing the number of feet I will fall if I slip, etc. But all the traverses ate my gear leading me to run the fuck out. YIKES. I still totally kept my cool and chilled out. I self talked my way out of ending up afraid and just pulled the moves and did the route. It went perfectly. I kicked ass.

For more stories along with photos ck out my blog at:

http://brooklyngoilnnp.livejournal.com/

Random Road Facts
I was gone for 21 days. I drove for 9 days although some of those days were shorter than others.

Average time driving: 12 hours per day with lots of stops for food, bathroom and dog walks.

Miles traveled: well over 6,000 miles.

Amount of money spent on gas? Approximately: $850-900.00

Number of speeding tickets: none

Number of times pulled over for speeding: Two

Where? Once in Northern Arizona. I received a written warning. Once in Missouri where I received a verbal warning. Both occurred on consecutive Sundays. This was the day I also saw the most staties out on patrol.

Did I flirt with the cops? No I didn't. I did talk them in a friendly way but I did not flirt. I would argue flirting with cops can go either way while talking to them straight up and direct is the safest bet plus the staties that pulled me over were not hot.

Times I wasn't pulled over but should have: driving 90mph past NM staties on a Friday night.

Bears in the air: Nevada has tons of highway patrol in helicopter.
Especially on 215. The belt parkway of Las Vegas.

Top speed: 100mph in Colorado, Utah and Nevada. Mind you during all 3 times there were multiple cars going faster than I was.

Autoban moment: the road between Arizona and Las Vegas is filled with folks speeding well over 100 mph. I have never seen so many convertibles in my life.

Worst Drivers: Las Vegas. Folks don't signal. And do more passing, tail gating and stupid shit than I have ever seen.

Average Speed going out west: 75

Average speed with stops included 67.

Average speed home: 70

Average speed with stops included 60.

Number of times I slept at rest stops: 8 nights.

Best thing about the road: solitude.

Worst thing about the road: solitude

Scary or Strange experiences: none. It was quite boring although I had vivid dreams mostly from McCarthy's The Road.

Was I armed? I did have a hammer in the back of my truck although I never really "took it out" of my luggage.

Nicest facilities on the road: Nevada.

Worst facilities on the road: Texas

Worst Roads: Colorado

Nicest Roads: Nevada

Number of times I ate at McDonalds: at least once a day for breakfast while driving.

Worst Coffee: Everywhere out west the coffee sucks. There are no starbucks my friends. None.

What did I listen to while driving: classic rock radio

Three best driving CDs: NIN with teeth, Queens of the Stone Age songs
for the deaf, Tool anemia

Best driving song: I am fond of Heading out on the Highway by Judas Priest and Born to Run by the Boss.

Guilty radio pleasure: Kelly Clarkson since you been gone (a Babeland favorite) and that tune by Panamore. Little lies?

Worst radio: Utah. Although it is the only place where I heard democracy now.

Best radio: Vegas and Northern Arizona have great metal stations.

Best road movies: Convoy, Vanishing Point, Dirty Mary, Crazy Larry.
Honorable mention: Thelma and Louise.

* for photos and more blogging check out: http://brooklyngoilnnp.livejournal.com/22002.html

the last 3 ice climbing days of my 2008 season were a song. I accomplished all of my goals. I accomplished my main climbing goals for 2007/08. It’s no small task to accomplish goals. Moving up here to New Paltz has been a challenging experience to say the least. Its nice to see it paying off in a big way.

I can’t express how satisfied I feel. Life rocks. I cried yesterday while climbing the Black Dike. Cried on a cocktail of fear, pain and sense that I was about to kill a white whale. I cried off and on all the way home today with the memory still fresh as the bruises on my body. I feel like I just graduated from a fancy college. Conquered my white whale. I feel complete.

What was so great.

I led my very first ice climbs. They were shortish.  With a trusted friend and professional climbing guide. But they were me. my responsibility. my decisions. my technique. All my putting my life on the line on the sharp end.

This was a dream. Fantasy. wish. I did it. I led. I led.

I climbed Dracula.

I climbed The Black Dike. 500 foot climb after Approx. 1,000 foot vertical hike up steep snow ice terrain.

Epic days. There was pain. I have never been so frightened in my life. There were zero degree climbing days. Thursday my entire body shook between pitches while climbing. Backpack sized ice blocks falling. There was some blood (not mine). More blood (still not mine). Screaming barfies (mine). Some (temporary) pinched nerve damage thing to my right hand. Frozen feet. Pain. And more.

These are the best days. This is why I dream. This is living.

PS Ice season is officially over. Bring on Rock.

******************

Here’s a description from the greatoutdoors.com
Elevation: 500 feet of frozen ice

Days: less than one, unless something goes very wrong

Difficulty: very difficult, unless you are an expert ice climber (see below).

The frozen prize of New England is the Black Dike, a 500-foot smear of ice that generally forms in November, about a thousand yards south of New Hampshire’s state symbol: the Old Man of the Mountain formation on Cannon Cliffs.

If you’re lucky, the wind will howl so hard your eyes will freeze shut - giving you a true alpine experience. This crystal granddaddy of icicles is rated Ice 4, not especially difficult by modern standards, but the setting often approximates big mountain alpine climbing at its best.

Dress for arctic conditions. New England ice is plentiful but temperatures often hover in the single digits, not to mention the wind chill. Avalanche danger shouldn’t be discounted - so don’t go climbing after a fresh snow.

*****************************

"expert climber" I’m not sure what that phrase means. I have mixed feelings with posting this description b/c I am no expert climber. However I feel that the overall description is accurate as is what I take as the tone of the "expert climber" line.

I spent the past week resting me bones after pulling a calf muscle on New Years day. Some friends and I went on an fantastic snow shoe adventure on the Mohonk Perserve to celebrate the New Year.

We did a sold 6-7 mile hike in brand new virgin powder. Starting in the Trapps parking lot we took a heavily wooded path on the Shogum trail to Coxing, up the Old Minewaska and the final stretch of the Carriage road. We finished long after sunset in the dark under the light of a silvery moon echoing of the whitest snow. By the end of the adventure I was wasted to the core. Bones sore, muscles hot, covered in sweat. It was a perfect day and a perfect day to start the New Year.

Yesterday, Sat. Jan. 6th I was up on Stoney Clove a set of moderate ice climbs in the Catskills. It's my first day ice climbing in 2 weeks. The holiday warmer temperature and visits to BK took me away from my frozen wonderland. Upstate is funny cause when it's cold up here, it is COLD, COLD, inescapable cold. But if your on an outdoor adventure then its perfect. But when the temps go up, it obviously easier to be outside but less fun too. Ahhh contradictions.

Saturday was a grey day with little sun. The day started off on a slightly troubling note. The SC approach is up a snow covered talus field of large rocks and boulders. Some of the path is like a moderate hiking path straight up hill whereas there are points where it's a bit more challenging. Mistakenly I (we) didn't have my crampons on nor an ice axe for balance. We were essentially switch-backing, often between trees and climbing up the approach. At one point I had to step up, approximately 2.5 feet to the left on a sloping and slippery rock that was angled downward. As I stepped up with my left leg, and mantled with my right arm the entire rock gave way and began falling down the hill. The rock was about the size of a 40 inch color TV -- figure a couple of hundred pounds. As it gave way I lost my balance and fell backward with my pack on, slidding down the trail. I hit my friend directly in the head, knocking her to the ground and giving her a shinner. Me I was fine but shaken up by my fall and what might have happened (this stayed with me the entire day).

The issue's involved in this incident for me are the following. We had gotten a late start. When we got to the parking lot it was filled and we were worried that all the climbs would be taken. Therefore maybe we were rushing up the trail without as much care as I (we) should have. Should we have stopped and put on crampons at the base of the talus field? I did raise this but my party decided not to without too much discussion. However had I had crampons on what might have happened? I could have had stronger purchase and been more stable as I ascended the path. Or what if I still fell and now with my axe in hand and crampons on I could have hurt my climbing partner or myself more severely? I dunno. This points to this still being new to me. I assested the risks and knew cramponing up might be a wise choice but wasnt 1000% sure. I further knew we were rushing and tried to make sure I was making sure steps but I still fell. There are objective risks involved in the game here I you have to work with them.

Thankfully she wasn't badly injured as she kept ice on her face all day. Afterward making it up the field we first hit Little Black Dike, me for the second time this season. It's a WI 4- it's a steep corner climb somewhat less than 100 feet long. Overall the rest of the day went really well with the three of us supporting and encouraging each other up some truly badass climbs. I climbed my first roof of rock and ice and felt wasted but accomplished at the end of the day.

Ice climbing brings out the best in me and my worst. I say my worst because you learn a lot about yourself when you are climbing. All your fears and insecurities are there with you holding onto your heart. Doubt rings in your head. Your hands go numb. Feet are cold. Limbs shake with fear as you push your body to the limit. Yet it is also the most freeing experience I have ever had. To get a route done. Climb through my free. To force myself to keep breathing and thinking about every hand move, every step, pick placement and rest.

Being so close to the elements, raw and exposed on a frozen wet, dripping ice column with just you and your tools fighting to get to the top, its motherfucking medieval – no doubt, no doubt. Fierce and medieval.

And today I am again resting my bones and bruises. My left kneecap is a black purple from nailing an ice cap at the crux (hardest move or serious of moves) on Little Black Dike.

The next two weekends I will be on trips to Keene Valley ice climbing everyday. First to the Keene Valley Moutain Fest and then for a weekend trip with an ol' friend. After that I am hoping to go to New Hampshire for a week to climb with a new friend on North Conway. And later in Feb. I am again going up to North Conway for 5 days for Chicks with Picks East ( a women's only climbing clinic).

I hope I am up for it. Not only is NH much much colder than upstate NY some of the climbs I hope to get on are longer and more sustained than the ones I've been working on. I dream of being 1000s of feet above the earth or ice and rock trusting my skill set and my talents. Knowing I have trained hard for this. Knowing I may fail but I will work my body to the core before I give up and if I do give up I will be back again to try again.

Ice Prep – Part 1

Today is Monday December 3, 2007. It is 4:19pm. The temperature is 39 degrees in New Paltz, N.Y. Heavy clouds lumber off the mountains, moving South East towards Gardiner foreclosing a look at sunset, scheduled for 7 minutes away.

I check accuweather.com. I check weather.com. I check wunderground.com. I double check them all. Again. I check for New Paltz. I check for Keene Valley.

In Keene it is 18 degrees. It is 38 degrees in New Paltz. This is very good. I scan weather reports. I read NEICE.com. I read rock and river.com. I double check bloggs and websites. The weather is true. Ice is here. Ice is here.

And tomorrow I climb.

Tomorrow I climb. I began packing and repacking last night. Checking gloves. Checking my layering systems. The thrill of ice drives me while fear rides shotgun. I can't fuck up. I want this so bad. I want to met this challenge – the challenge of the cold and ice, the challenge of steel to rock and snow, the challenge to my body and mind more than anything in this entire world.

I will bring three pairs of gloves.

I will bring two hats.

Neck gaiter.
 
I will be prepared.

My crampons are new and shiny yellow. I am proud of them. They also match my helmet and my new boots. Perfect.

I am prepared today I ran 5 miles in the snow.

Yesterday. The same.

Today I did core exercises but didn't push it.

My forearms have been alternately numb and pained since I hurt them climbing indoors at the gym Friday night. I rookie mistake I tell myself though everyone does it. I have iced them. Massaged them. Rested them. Prayed to them all weekend. They must perform tomorrow.

The weather is perfect. Conditions look good. I wait patiently checking layers. Double checking food and water supplies.

I will drive in the dark up 87 tomorrow to Exit 20. It will be dark the whole drive. But inside the car I will be fired up for the climb.

I will wake at 4:30am and drive in the dark for 3 hours north on 87 to Keene Valley into Lake Placid. I can taste the cold.

I will eat a quick oatmeal breakfast at 5am. And again at 9am I will down 3 hardboiled egg whites with water and coffee before setting off. Only soft food. Protein. Protein. Protein.

I will down GU every hour with water between belays and climbs. I will go down syrupy sweet and heavy like frozen honey.

It will be very cold. I will drink water and stay hydrated although I don't want to pee and peeing SUCKS when your climbing in the summer. Never mind in the winter.

It will be hard.

It will hurt so so good.

It will be there hardest most painful. most....climbing is just fucking magical. it is religion. It is .....oops gotta go check the weather.

The Hurt – Part 2

The sky swirled grey and white. The wind was whipping the shit out of us as soon as we got out of the car. Kissing your cheeks with a frozen kiss.

Driving, visibility in the Keene Valley, had me driving 20 mph with my window open, frantically trying anything to de-ice my window - it was that thick. Temps were in the teens without the windchill. with the windchill it was down in the single digits. It snowed continually during the day dropping about 2 inches of light powder. Sky stood grey.

We climbed this talus field of ice and snow covered rock, maneuvering around fallen trees and boulders the size of small cars. I'm cold but I've already begun to sweat. After the first ten minutes we put on our crampons and use one ice axe for balance.

Conditions. ice is intense. The is no reprieve. There is no real rest from the cold. It's cold. Bone cold. Toe and finger tip numbing cold. And this is all in the first 15 minutes under four-five layers your cold. And then factor in the climbing, belaying, sweating, chilling and chilling and freezing factor.

Conditions on the face though were pretty perfect. The ice was nice and phat. There was soft stuff on top with nice absordingly wet ice underneath. Imagine snapping a sharpened hammer into this, one shot and it goes in deep and hold. Still other areas wear mushroomed out like an inflated giant open book. You climb by stemming up the middle, using both sides of the page to balance your weight. Here the ice is more fragile and pieces shatter and fly off the face as your axes seek purchase. Pieces fly in all directions. Small and large, some as large as a campbells soup spin to the side of your face, gathering speed as they funnel down the long ice alley. If below, you look down and hope it hits your helmet.

This is ice climbing. It is so good, it is so good it hurts.

I climbed leashless for the first time. My ice axes or tools are not attached to my wrist by a leash. This means if I drop a tool, I am kinda fucked. I must climb the rest of the climb with one tool. Not a good thing for an experienced climber never mind a young newbie like myself.

Why do I do this? Religion. Sex. The Challenge. All classic responses to such a question. Fun. Thrill. Danger. Adventure. True enough.

Is it that I must suffer to feel I deserve any pleasure. Yes there is that. Is it that when I am on the rock and ice I feel more in control than at any moment. at anytime. I feel alive and purposed. I feel at home in my body. I feel a sense of peace and love and happiness that so often in life you taste and watch it fade. But on the ice, again and again everything matters. You fuck up, you know it. YOU are responsible for your life. You are responsible for your condition. YOU make it work or suffer the consequences. Consequences that are unforgiving and apparent and YOU know what you did right and what you did wrong. And when your done. When you finish. You know you may succeed or you may fail but you decide. And with that I feel whole and alive and in love with life and my true imperfect self.

Until next time.