Asa Space

“It’s OK. No really; it’s OK.”

I’m surprised by the unexpected reassurance from the barista. In my mad dash gathering gear and making way to my friend’s house for an on-time departure on our climbing trip, I had rushed to The Daily coffee shop and asked them to grind the wrong bag of beans for my french press: decaf, a nearly inconsolable mistake. “Grab a different bag, we want you to be caffeinated,” the barista continues. “Yes,” I finally agree. “Thank you.”

Now, with the correct provisions and buoyed by the kind demeanor of the barista, I reach Cam’s place ready for adventure. Cam, Paige, and I consolidate our gear and shape it into a platform topped by a dog bed in the back of Paige’s 1997 Toyota Land Cruiser so that their pup, Huck, can ride along with us comfortably. Then, we make off into the Montana countryside. On the highway, we cruise past Livingston–a train track town that’s one part hopeful and peppy and another part backwater and forgotten. Soon after, we exit the highway and the road leads us into a deep river valley nestled between the steep hillsides of the Beartooth Mountains. 

We set up camp before heading to the crag, which is in a spot that the Boulder River hits a shelf of limestone and the entire river is swallowed up by the porous rock–until 100 yards downstream where a deep amphitheater is formed by limestone cliffs. Here, the river escapes its cavernous path and comes cascading out of a deep cave that has been carved by torrents of water across unknown millennia. It is along the walls of this amphitheater that Montanans have established some of the steepest sport climbs in the region. Below the waterfall, there is a deep pool breached by a sandy peninsula. Visitors scramble down a nearby hillside to reach this spot and jump into the cool waters. As a climber, while scaling the surrounding cliffs, the muted thundering of water washes away the worries and trappings of industrialized society. There’s no cell service here. It is perfect.

This crag is where Cam, Paige, and I have come not only to relax and enjoy nature for Labor Day weekend but also to engage in a cathartic struggle with internal obstacles. We use rock climbing as a medium to explore our physical and mental capacity, to find and surpass our personal limitations. Cam seeks to exceed a brilliant track record as an athlete and climb harder grades than he has in years past. Paige works to overcome the fears that accompany being a new lead climber (fears that seasoned climbers know will never leave completely). I search for a connection to my body and my surroundings that comes from full physical effort in the exposed environment of a cliffside. I’m also hoping for the bragging rights of a difficult send. 

During the next several days, Paige impresses us by committing to bold sequences. It’s clear that she has a great deal of mental fortitude. At one point she moves well above and to the left of her anchor point onto a thin and slabby crux. She’s rewarded by a long fall, a swing, and an unfortunate introduction to the cliff face. She’s OK. Even more impressive than her climbing is her willingness to return to the rock and continue pushing herself on the sharp end of the rope, which she does for the remainder of the trip.

Cam leads our assault on the stiffer grades. He is unafraid to push himself and willing to battle his way up some of the hardest climbs in the area. He pulls the moves on several 5.13’s including “Whitewater”, a route that ascends the prow of an enormous overhanging block directly in front of the waterfall. It’s an amazing setting. Cam’s enthusiasm fuels my own, and I’m grateful for the opportunity to top rope the difficult climbs after he leads them, turning the routes into some sort of fantastic outdoor climbing gym.

My lack of difficult sends on the trip does not keep me from experiencing what I came for. The hard climbing tests me mentally and physically. Through successive burns on an overhung endurance route, I discover that I am over-gripping the living bejesus out of the limestone holds. During my first burn on “Adventure Time”, I am so pumped at the top I can barely close my hand. I grab draws at nearly every clip. The next day, I have familiarity with the holds and I realize the falls are probably clean. This gives me the courage to climb lightly and more confidently. Starting on the climb with fresh eyes, I relax and feel weightless even on small crimps. While I don’t quite send, the route suddenly feels within my wheelhouse.

I learned two important lessons on this outing: the first is that my climbing is not limited by strength but instead by using too much of it unnecessarily. The second lesson is that I can recover from being massively pumped and go on to climb multiple hard routes in a single day. Both of these discoveries make the sport seem more sustainable and enjoyable, and they give me something to work on.

After two chalk-full days of try-hard, cold beer, warm wine, frigid river water, and pupper adoration, we head home. I’m excited to apply my lessons learned and looking forward to the next adventure.