My Sister Wanted Me to Tell Her a Story..
This one time I went climbing up in Squamish, BC. I went up the night before and slept in a van, which was fantastic, until i was woken up at 7 in the morning by a park ranger. I was completely naked.
After waking up rather abruptly and definitely in the most awkward way possible, I scrambled to put on my clothes and passed $20 of bribe money to the ranger in hopes that she wouldn’t write me a ticket for parking overnight without a pass.
So I set off on my day. With a belly full of oatmeal, my boyfriend by my side, and a heart full of adventure, I packed my bag full with gear, food, and water. I set out on the approach expecting it to be long and tiring, but instead found that the approach was flat and less than 30 minutes. Win.
I arrived at the base of my climb and looked up. 1,300 feet of pure bliss. the most perfect crack you would ever see. The crack was the perfect size for my hand to fit in, and after spending 30 minutes at the base of the climb taping up my hands, sorting out gear, and navigating through the worst guide book known to man, we set off.
The first pitch was the perfect introduction. We were greeted by chicken head after chicken head, with no lack of great holds, an easy climb to say the least. The climb flowed so well that it gave me goose bumps. With every reach came the perfect hold, and every dyno landed on the perfect ledge. Although it was well set and the holds were abundant, that did not mean it came without obstacles. The overhangs were frequent and tiring, but we finished the first pitch ahead of schedule.
Then came the second pitch. It was easier than the first, which gave me the highest level of confidence. My fists were not yet bloodied, I climbed without a scratch, and the sun was not yet at its peak which gave us the perfect climbing temperature. We blasted through the second pitch with ease.
The next three pitches flew by. We got in a great flow between leading and following. Our transitions were seamless, our trad placement was prime. There was no doubt in my mind that we would finish this climb flawlessly. Right before the sixth climb we stopped for lunch. As I was eating my slightly soggy sandwich i looked up, and about 25 feet above my head I saw the crack stopped…
“Wait, where are we supposed to go from here,” I said, with doubt hanging in my voice
“Well, we traverse over about 45 feet. I forgot to tell you about that part… there isn’t much for feet, but i’m sure you can work your way through it. i’ll just place gear frequently. You will be fine.”
After finishing the last of my sandwich we packed up our little ledge and set off again.
My boyfriend made it up to the traverse and nervously yelled down to me, “Um… Tiff…. I don’t really have the right size gear for this, so i’m not going to be able to place much gear. Be careful and whatever you do, don’t fall.”
He scrambled across the rest of the traverse and seamlessly climbed up the face above. As he yelled “OFF BELAY!” I could feel my heart beating out of my chest. Traversing is my least favorite thing, and I am not all that confident in my ability to traverse on a crack. I shoved my hand into the crack and set off on the most challenging pitch of my life.
I made it up to the traverse without any issues, one hand after another, and using the flow of the climb to keep me calm. My self talk was positive, yet shaky as my voice reflected my internal nervousness. “You can do this, tiff,” I whispered to myself, “You’ve got this, you’re the best girl climber you know, you can do it.”
I yelled “TAKE” as soon as I got to the beginning of the traverse. I could feel the rope tugging on my harness as my boyfriend pulled in the extra slack. “Gotcha!” he yelled, and instantly I loostened up a little bit. I shook my hands out in hopes of releasing my nerves. I hear kevins voice echoing from above… “So, be careful on this part. You’re about to take out your first piece. After that, if you fall, it will easily be a 40 foot swing. Dont. Fall.”
“OK, got it,” I said, my voice trembling. So I set out. Carefully and quickly I removed the piece of gear that was protecting me from what could be the worst fall of my life. I instantly panicked. I couldn’t find my footing, my hands were sweating, and the granite left no room for error. I could feel my grip slipping little by little.
First my left pinky slipped off, followed by my ring finger, until my entire left hand was off the wall. I struggled to find my footing, kicking and flailing on the wall in hopes of rescuing myself from a life-changing fall.
I couldnt hold on, regardless of how hard I tried, and there were no feet. I slipped quickly, but it felt like forever. I can still close my eyes and feel that swing to this day. I swing 35 feet across the wall, using my forearms on the granite to protect the rest of my body from injury. I instantly started to bleed from my knees and my forearms, and I had ripped through my north face and underneath revealed a pink, raw, bloody layer of flesh with little pieces waiting to be removed from the edges. I panicked. I cried. I yelled. I was stuck. I couldnt move. I was terrified
There I was, 700 feet in the air, dangling from a rope over the ocean, feeling hopeless. Full on panic attack began. I yelled for help but nobody was there to rescue me. My boyfriend immediately started pulling and tried to get me up, but there was no way to get me up fast enough. I couldn’t handle the height, the blood, the adrenaline, and the pain.
As soon as he managed to pull me up over the ledge he was on, I started crying. Within minutes the next group of climbers had made it up to the ledge where we stood and stared in dismay over the amount of blood covering my body and the injuries I had sustained. They were speechless, but they kept climbing. They offered some first aid supplies, we accepted, and they left.
From there I sat on this ledge for an hour with fear of going up and going down. After a while the tremors went away, the blood clotted, and it was time to move in one direction or another. So we went up.
I talked myself into getting back on that wall. Through the last three pitches I struggled to keep myself together as I climbed further away from the base of the climb, that traverse, and the ledge that was still spotted with my blood.
We finished the climb hours before sunset. It was a long day full of adventure, ups, and downs, but in all I have to say that I am grateful for that day I had my first big fall. I learned so much and will never forget that day. I still have a deep fear of traversing because of that, but I can still climb past it. To date it hasn’t been my biggest fall, but it has been the biggest mental hurdle I will ever cross climbing.
And that, my dear, is a true story.
