It's been so long.

So many things have happened since my last post. The last two years have been full of big changes, sudden turns, and unexpected challenges. Even when I've had time for storytelling, I haven't had much energy.

Overall, life has stayed beautiful. I've conquered fears, made mistakes, tested my spirit, and proved myself wrong. I've learned about failure and myself.

At many times and in many places, climbing has kept me above the waters of confusion and self-doubt. It's hard to explain my relationship with this sport, the essential balance that exists between the rock, my body, and my mind. I'm so grateful for climbing, for words, for friendship, and for fear.

I want to keep sharing my life here. I've wondered for months how I would execute my return. I never finished profiling Ecua-crags, and I didn't meet all of my training goals. I've been to so many new places. Where could I start?

I'll start here, with an excerpt from my first contribution to the Steep South website:

I left Ecuador to work for The Climbing Academy, a traveling high school for rock climbers. We began the semester in Bishop. Eighty-three miles closer to home but on the opposite coast, I felt farther than ever from my roots.

The Happies and Sads offered a final humbling taste of volcanic bouldering between school days in our rental house. After a month in snowy California, we headed to Mexico.

In Potrero Chico, I climbed on limestone for the first time. After a few sketchy falls on crumbling choss, I found myself rebuilding the sharp-end confidence I’d developed in Ecuador. “This is limestone?” I asked myself. The tacos were worth it, but only just.

Weeks later, though, the tufa wonderlands of El Salto enchanted me. In the otherworldly Tecalote cave, I decided to become a capital-S-C Sport Climber. In Nevada, I fell in love with Mount Charleston’s deep pockets and invisible feet. I discovered a style to which my body felt truly suited. Taking whips and trying hard, I finally trusted the rock and myself. (Read on for the rest.)

I won't make promises this time. All I'll say is this: I want to tell many more stories.

Reflections and a thank you

I guess I’ve been climbing for about two years now.

Actually, May 10th marked my two-year anniversary with the plastic at Active. I’m so glad I discovered our little bouldering gym back in 2013 (Thanks, Nick!). Climbing has taught me so much about strength, confidence, failure, and perseverance. It’s teaching me to trust myself.

Now can I be in the #fitspo club? Photo cred to Mackenzie Taylor Photography

Looking back on New Climber Sarah Anne is a little strange. V3s seemed impossible then, I thought my Elektras were the shiz (they were), and I didn’t think I’d ever do a pull-up.

I'm stronger and more confident now, but really, I’m still a beginner. I’ve finally developed a modicum of technique, but put me on anything slightly overhung and you’ll have to spoon feed me the beta. Hand-foot matches? Toe hooks? Bicycles? How does one climb? I definitely plan to get stronger, but I also have so much to learn about the basics of bouldering. I’m even newer to sport climbing, and trad is a distant dream.

Still, this year has been special because, as a newly not-totally-new climber, I’ve gotten to introduce several other people to the sport. I’ve taken a few friends out for their very first bouldering trips, and I’ve even helped teach a couple folks how to belay safely and clean routes. Sometimes I’m in the gym, and new dude bros ask me for beta. Me! For beta! Dude bros! It’s exciting to help others get psyched on a sport that has affected me in so many positive ways.

But it also makes me appreciate the guidance I’ve received from other people. I’ve learned so much about technique, training, and mindset from the Active crew, and I will always be thankful for the super strong guys who let me tag along on their bouldering trips, even when I was projecting V2s with an all-wrong attitude. They taught me to push with my feet, use my reach, and chase good times instead of grades.

Then there are the folks who have literally taught me the ropes. I am only now beginning to realize how fortunate I was to get my first lessons in belaying and leading from such experienced and safety-conscious climbers. I’m grateful to the guys who had — and have — the patience and fortitude to teach me, trust me, and correct my mistakes.

So thanks, guyz: Evan, Nicks, Chuck, Remi, Matt, John, Thomas, Jeremy, Chris, Sam, Hal, and every other person who’s seen me beg for beta, belay poorly, or cry on lead. Y'all are the best. Climbing is such a great part of my life, and it wouldn’t be as awesome without people like you.

Boulders, pho, and self-improvement

Alabama Sky.

Oh, my gosh. It's been two weeks.

Life is getting hectic here in college land. Bouldering season is finally upon us, and so are midterms. And bills...always bills.

But I have gotten out a bit since my last post! Two weekends ago, we did indeed return to Horsepens, where we night bouldered, camped, and bouldered some more in a big happy group. After a long — long — battle with the Panty Shields (V3) topout, I finally sent it. It was one of those "I'll try it just one more time, but it probably won't happen, but I'll kick myself if I don't" kind of successes after three sessions and many frustration tears. And it finally went!

We also got on a really cool V3 called The Thespian. The beta is straightforward for some folks (watch this guy do it at 1:44 — just nope. NOPE.), but between Caroline, Lucy, Elaine and me, some heelhookey, toejammy, footmatchey madness occurred. I can't wait to get the last move on this one — by the time we returned to it at day's end, my skin was, well, not.

Some other fun/weird climbs attacked by our crew included Bum Boy (V3), Millipede (V5), Hammerhead (V5), and Lowdown (V4).  I'm reluctant to attribute sends to specific people since it's been so long and my memory is not the greatest, but I'm ~*~pretty~*~ sure Elaine sent The Thespian, Lucy sent Bum Boy, and Evan and Nick sent Hammerhead. Caroline got her longstanding V2 proj, The Stranger, too (!), and I just remember Remi being tall.

So tall. So low.

I didn't get tons of photos like I said I would, but I did get a few pretty shots with my new Samsung Galaxy S5 Active (*which I love*):

Evan bein' burly on Hammerhead.

Lucy bein'...really good at climbing...on Bum Boy.

#nofilter!

So that was fun. And then this past Sunday, folks wanted to go to LRC, but it rained there, so we (Evan, Nick, Thomas, Lucy, and I) went to Mount Yonah for a pre-pour halfday instead.

I didn't get any pictures.

Yonah is a granitey ouchfest located near Cleveland, Ga. It's better than Shaking Rock but bereft of Horsepen's boulder magic. It does have routes, though. And it's only about an hour from Athens, so it's the place to go when you don't have all day to climb.

But let's be honest. We hardly climbed. We took forEVer to leave Athens after a groggy Kroger meetup and an impromptu stop at Dunkin' Donuts (they didn't have peanut butter for their bagels! Is that not a staple among bagel condiments? But Thomas shared his almond butter <3 #magnanimous). It was a nice relaxed morning — one of those days when you warm up for 10 minutes, chat for 15, move to another boulder, chat for another 15... it was great. We spent a few hours bouldering, but I really didn't have it in me after an exhausting week of being a stressed-out, sleep-deprived, future-fearing college student. Lucy flashed a V4 (crusher!), which I don't know the name of, and that's the only thing I really worked. I got every move except the first one, which is a sit start (ugh) to a pretty-good hold that I just couldn't make myself grab onto because I hate pain and it was pebbly which means potentially hurt-y and why am I a climber again?

Other than that, I just goofed around on juggy things and kinda-sorta practiced mantling on tiny boulders. I don't even know what the others were working on outside of my little sleepy-eyed world. I believe the Yonah triumvirate was worked, maybe, I dunno, I was staring at a caterpillar. I took a nap kind of, and something stung my butt. I was just not feeling the whole climbing thing. Also, I didn't bring any food.

So imagine my euphoria when we left mid-afternoon (it never rained) and ate delicious Vietnamese food at a restaurant with a decidedly Vietnamese name! (Hint: it was great.) And then we were gonna go to Stone Summit to try on shoes, but Google was wrong and they close at 5 on Sundays, so we tried on shoes at REI instead. Which was almost as awesome because Athens doesn't have an REI and it is an amazing place, like an adventure Walmart but prettier. So like an adventure Target.

And then we went to this Chinese bakery, and it was super cute, and I couldn't eat anything, but here is a photo of a mooncake:

And we were all home by 9 o' clock.

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Also, here is the ice cream I had for second breakfast yesterday:

Recipe: Slice bananas. Freeze them. Blend, with a little vegan milk if your blender is terrible or you're a soft-serve person. Sprinkle on buckwheat for crunch and class. Cocoa powder optional (as all things are).

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And I still haven't explained the end of my no-poo adventure.  Basically, I went at it for a few months with vinegar and baking soda, and my hair definitely luxed up as I freed it from the effects of chemical shampoos. It kind of "transitioned" to being not-disgusting, but I am just too active — and Georgia is just too humid — for me to maintain the twice-a-week routine. It never smelled bad or anything, but whenever I had a rinse-only day, it dried pretty flat and just didn't look good. And if I didn't scrub really hard in every spot with the baking soda, it was not gonna look clean either. I dunno, maybe that's health.

I will say, though, that the first wash after three months without shampoo left it looking the best it ever has. Seriously. It was full and shiny and beautiful until I put a cap on it and went to work for eight hours. But since then, it has never looked quite as awesome. I am back to whatever was sitting in my bathroom at home-home for now, and I'm hoping to make some sort of natural shampoo and conditioner once I get some time slash money. Then again, it's getting cool, so I might be able to pull it off now. There is a gallon of vinegar in my bathroom cabinet...

Additionally, I have casually taken up doing yoga with Adriene in the comfort of my sister's bedroom. I do it in there because mine is too messy. But I'm working on that, because I hope that organized surroundings will give me a sense of control over my mental chaos. That's part of why I'm doing yoga; although I know it will help me gain balance and flexibility for climbing, the real draw for me is its emphasis on internal wellbeing. I feel a bit conflicted about it because of the culturally appropriative aspects of Western interpretations of yoga, but after reading/listening to multiple qualified parties' thoughts on the issue, I think I can practice it while maintaining respect for the religion and culture from whence it came.

And I recently began reading 9 Out of 10 Climbers Make the Same Mistakes by Dave MacLeod. Evan insists that it will make me a better climber, and the first 50 pages have already prompted me to change my mental game. I will elaborate, you know, eventually, but for now I leave you with these words, which I am trying to keep as my longwinded training sort-of mantra:

"The ideal attitude is that failure is an absolutely integral and central part of any worthwhile endeavor...Failure can and should be relished as a psychological tool to motivate, a practical source of essential feedback for those who don't have a coach and even the spice that makes eventual success taste so sweet when it finally comes."

Don't Let Me Fall

Oh my gosh, you guys. Heights.

I don't like 'em. I mean, I love climbing, and going and going until I'm way up high, and even falling when really it's a jump and I'm in control, but OH MY GOSH HEIGHTS.

I guess really it's OH MY GOSH FALLING. I don't wanna do it.

Unrelated bouquet. This is still sitting in my car. Special thanks to Earth Fare for the orange peels and 'Bama for the flowers.

I had another freakout on Saturday. We finally made it back to Grey Wall at Little River Canyon, and I was psyched to send two 5.11s I tried back in July. I'd originally planned to send Obsession (5.11a) and Easy Up (5.11?) on toprope, but after last week's pullup success and a few days off, I was feeling strong and confident, if a little nervous.

So I decided to lead Obsession. After a boulderish warm-up traversing the face on low jugs, I stepped up to the rock determined to succeed. Nick had already hung my draws, so all I had to do was clip the rope in. Just climb and clip.

Well, long story short, I did not send. I fell at the crux, hated it, then remembered my beta and continued shakily. Then I had to clip some draws, and I didn't wanna fall, and it was scary, but I did it, and then I had to clip the anchors, which was terrifying because the top of Obsession is overhanging and intimidating and I just didn't know if I could do it, but I didn't want to fall. Before I got on the route, I told myself not to be scared of the overhung part. You can do it, I told myself. You're strong enough. But by the time I got there, I was already wigging out because a. I knew this was the hardest route I'd ever tried to lead b. I know I'm not good on overhangs and c. I was friggin' pumped. Not to mention terrified of falling, which of course is scariest when you're just about to clip in because it means you'll fall like, I dunno, lots of feet!

Tears. Whimpers. I could. Not. Do it.

I mean obviously I could, because I did, and then I came down and sent it with relative ease on toprope. But instead of being excited about my first 11, I was disappointed I hadn't led it and frustrated with myself, because really it was all mental, and I know I could climb harder if I'd just let go of the fear.

Further frustration: I got on what I thought was Easy Up but was actually the ~*harder*~ route next to it, the name of which I do not remember. It would have been funny if I hadn't been so upset about wearing myself out  on toprope before I could actually get to my project. But I'd already agreed to clean the route, so I had to finish it, boinking and all. Sigh.

So I really felt the failure on Saturday. To make things worse, it was the first day we'd gone to the Canyon and actually seen other humans there. Humans who witnessed my 5.11 sobfest. Super strong humans who apparently bolted the routes we were climbing. So I was pretty embarrassed too. But maybe they didn't notice me? Ha.

It may sound like I was miserable, and there was definitely some crying and swearing going on, but it really was a fun day. For one thing, Taylor got to come!

Sista Fran so cute. And she took every photo in this post except this one! Check out her photo bizniss here.

It was so nice to have my twinny twin along. It was her second time climbing outside and her second time toproping, and she did quite well. And got some great photos!

      

I drove up with Taylor, Evan, and Beckett, facing my #roadfear too, and nothing scary happened! (I promise I'm not actually afraid of that many things; guess I just do the ones that scare me most.) Nick, Thomas, and his wife Erin drove separately with two more dogs, Sophia and Teddy. There's no way to wallow with all that happy fluff nearby.

Other feats of the day: Evan made quick work of Monkey Tails (5.12c), and our new friend Joe did this with Teddy:

And later, we got huge quantities of pizza and breadsticks fo' cheap at The Gondolier. Our server was awesome and totally understanding about the "no cheese, no butter, no nothin' on half" thing.

So it ended up being a great day full of sunshine and challenges and good friends. But even after all the fun, I came home feeling discouraged. Wondering, what kind of climber am I? Certainly a (slightly) more confident boulderer, but I've really started to love sport climbing. And when I'm unafraid — or at least manageably afraid — it feels incredible to climb so high. But is it okay to only lead routes I know I can flash? Climbing is about extending my limits, not setting new ones. If I want to really challenge myself on lead, how do I come to terms with fear and gravity?

This Saturday, I'm going bouldering. I want to climb close to the ground for a minute while I work on the whole courage thing. In the meantime, I'll just keep getting stronger — Tuesday, I did four pullups! Up from two last week, and close to my "five, you know, soon" goal. Who knows? Maybe I'll be doing ten by the end of the season. #dreambig

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THIS JUST IN: I was just scrolling through my Facebook feed (like, after writing the post and right before publishing it), and I discovered this encouraging quote someone attributed to Winnie the Pooh:

"You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think." 

Maybe all I need is a mantra. Thanks, somebody's grandma! I'll keep that in mind.

Cookies & Currahee

Nathan on the Belay couch. Belay loveseat? Beloveseat.

Mt. Currahee is probably the closest sport climbing to Athens. I don't know, maybe Yonah is closer, but we didn't go there this weekend. We went to Currahee.

Evan, Lucy, Beckett, Nathan, and I drove up there on Friday for a half day, and since it's only about 90 minutes from Athens, we didn't have to leave until 6 a.m.! #whoo

Since Evan has a sports car, Nathan has a bike, and Lucy is 13, the task of driving fell to me. Actually, I think one of the guys would have driven my car, but I am trying to improve at driving and stop hating it because it's a necessary skill if you want to be an adventurer. I just traded in (err, kind of) my white '89 Lincoln Town Car for a 2004 Ford Taurus a few weeks ago, and this was my second time driving folks to a climbing spot (the first was our Little River Canyon expedition a few Sundays ago). And maybe my fifth time driving outside of Athens, like, ever. #scary

The drive to the crag went preeetty well, except I learned quite suddenly that you always have to stop for school buses, even if they are across the yellow lines and three lanes away from you, which is good to know because I don't think I've had to stop for a school bus ever (did I mention I don't drive much?), and apparently it's a really big ticket if you don't. But I also think it's pretty not-okay for these bus drivers to let kids out on a four lane road with no crosswalk and expect them to cross it and... well, anyway. Once we reached the mountain, it took me about three years to get us up its potholey gravel road, but I think I did a pretty okay job considering.

Quickdraw segue.

It was a frustrating day for me at Brick Wall. I was sore from a few days of gym climbing, so everything felt harder than it "should" have. And although I thought I'd gotten past my fear of heights with my post-send-slack-pulling at the aforementioned Canyon trip and my 10-lead-flashing last weekend, I had a serious freakout leading this 5.10a called Pigs on the Wing. As in, a grab the last quickdraw, sob to the top, don't stop shaking for thirty minutes freakout. It was bad and embarrassing and I was really mad at myself, but the thought of falling filled me with more terror than ever. I think the fact that I was feeling weaker than usual combined with latent fear demons in my head to make the worst of a potentially okay situation. But I got over it, and it was still a great day. I toproped a 5.10b/c called Power Flyer, and I agreed with Lucy and Evan that is was way easier than the 10a, but since the fear aspect was (mostly) removed, I don't really know.

We also toproped a couple of 5.9 trad climbs, No Name Crack and Offwidth. Offwidth was my first experience with crack climbing, which is strange and hard and super fun. I definitely want to climb more cracks, although the idea of hand jamming still confounds me. Really jamming anything except a pant-covered knee confounds me. Like, ow. But I am definitely a fan of the knee jam.

Hey, look, gear on gear!

Evan practiced placing trad gear on this 5.11c called Dreams while on toprope, and of course he'll send it on actual trad (on trad? while tradding? as a trad daddy? what is the phrasing???) next time. Lucy was baller enough to toprope it too. You can read about her experience here!

Since we were even in number, I was usually belaying or climbing and didn't get a lot of photos. But here are some vultures:

Not a good omen in my 5.10 distress.

We left around 4, and I drove us back to Athens without event. Beckett rested her head on my arm from the backseat, which was heavy and made steering a little awkward, but it was so friggin' adorable and I just got used to it. It was nice pulling up to the apartment at 5:30 instead of midnight, and it was definitely a productive day.

I'm a little disappointed that my fear of heights is still hanging out in my brain. But climbing is a process in every aspect, I suppose. I can't go out this weekend because of work (sigh), but if I can get anyone to climb on Labor Day I'll make sure my mind and body are ready.

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Okay, so that was the Currahee portion of this blog post. This is the cookie portion! Crag cookies, crag cookies

Friday was Nathan's first time coming out with us. He'd allllmost come a few times before, and I was really excited to climb with him, and I was determined he would make it this time. So Thursday night at the gym, trying to convince him that it was worth the hot temps and all, I was like, "I'LL MAKE COOKIES, MAYBE." I included the "maybe" because it's important to have an out, but once I'd said it, I had to do it. I don't know if Nathan even remembers that conversation, but...

After a 10:00 trip to Academy Sports to pick up some overpriced gymnastics chalk (I procrastinated), I commenced the baking process. And this time, I wrote down measurements!

This was my first time using carob powder in a recipe. I'm not sure how I feel about it. People like to use it instead of cocoa powder because it is also brown and starts with a "C," but it does not taste like chocolate. I really lack the culinary vocabulary to describe the taste of carob. But it's not bad, necessarily, depending on who you are. Just strange, and you feel kind of virtuous and trendy eating it. And it doesn't contain caffeine, so that's nice, or lame, or whatever, depending on what you seek from your cookies.

Anyway, here's the *~*recipe*~* :

Ingredients:

1 c whole wheat flour

1/4 c coconut sugar

1/4 c carob powder

t tsp baking powder

1 tbsp chia seeds

handful of coconut flakes

2 tbsp flax seed meal + 4 tbsp warm water

1/2 c coconut oil

1/4 c agave nectar

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

2. Mix the flax seed meal and warm water and set aside.

3. Combine the dry stuff, except for the coconut flakes.

Carobcano!

4. Add in the wet stuff and then the coconut flakes.

5. Make lil balls, and put 'em onto an ungreased cookie sheet. You should have about 16.

I didn't flatten them down, and after 8 minutes, they were still little nuggets:

So I flattened 'em out with a fork and baked 'em for two more minutes. So you should probably skip that part and just flatten them to start with and then bake them for 10 minutes.

And then they'll look kind of like this! Soft and chewy and full of nutrition.

Now. The important question: How do they taste? Well, not sweet. Like, they're brown, but they are not chocolate. And coconut sugar isn't actually all that sweet, as sugars go. And whole wheat flour, while less evil than white flour, tends to make things bitter-er. I honestly wasn't sure about them, but the guys liked them. In Nathan's words: "they taste like energy cookies." Which apparently are a real thing because I just googled them and found like a kajillion recipes so maybe I will just call them that. Like, coco-carob energy cookies. The coco is for coconut, NOT COCOA. Because THESE BEAUTIFUL COOKIES DO NOT TASTE LIKE CHOCOLATE. 

Well, you've been warned. I'mma go to the gym now and climb on some plastic.

Any other climbers out there struggle with The Fear? How do you manage it? And what in the world do you think of carob powder? Speak in the comments, or on the Contact page!

There Goes The Fear

This seems to be the norm for approaches at Little River Canyon: Class 4?

This weekend, I learned about hiking classes. I'd heard of them before, but as a budding adventurer I was unfamiliar with how hardcore hikers graded their routes. According to my seasoned outdoorsman friend Charles, the basic breakdown is this:

Class 1: You're walking. Class 2: You're still walking, but it's a little scarier and you have to be careful. Class 3: You're on your hands and feet. Class 4: You're on your hands and feet, and if you fall you might die. Class 5: You're climbing, and you probably need a rope, because it you fall without one you will probably die.

And that's why sport grades start with a 5!

The friendliest terrain around.

This Alabama crag is worth the scary death-hike. It's hard to find anything below a 5.11, but the climbing is great, and the canyon itself is beautiful. Best of all, you can climb there in the rain.

Just follow me on Instagram, already.

Friday, I went to Lizard Wall with Evan and Charles. I was pretty sore from a workout a few days prior, and I couldn't stick two moves toproping Lemonade (5.11a) or Bon Voyage (5.11b) without getting pumped. But I had fun anyway and learned things! For instance: you can use a Grigri as secondary protection when you're cleaning a route and lowering off one anchor. Who knew? (A guy on Mountain Project did.) I recommend learning how before you're at the anchor.

So Friday was fun, and the guys worked on things and probably sent some, and I remember the name Robyn's Route (5.12b) but not much else besides pumpy forearms and these delicious lil cocoatmeal nuggets:

Nugget recipe coming soon!

But Sunday was when the real try-hards happened. I'd been psyched all week for the girls' trip Caroline, Lucy and I were planning to take to Rocktown (alluded to here), and Evan + 3 were planning to hit up Lost Wall for some trad. But then the forecast crushed our dreams. So Sunday morning, we all rode up to the Canyon.

Mandy was everywhere.

We goofed off a bit on the damp Mushroom Boulders, waiting for Beckett to eat her breakfast.

The Greatest Dane.

Stan Slab.

It was frustrating to see such beautiful sandstone defaced with people's terrible handwriting. Beatles quotes, declarations of love, pleas for Instagram followers (really) — we keep running into this. Remember the Shaking Rock graffiti? Sand Rock has tons of it too. And last Sunday at Rocktown, someone had written "cum" on the Orb boulder.

Really.

Fortunately (I guess), I think it was done with charcoal and not paint. But still. Just why? Why?? Whyyyy???

Anyway. After bouldering a bit at the 'shrooms, we made our perilous way to the Toomsuba wall. Everybody was awesome! Our new friend Thomas onsighted a 5.11a called Combat Zone, and Evan onsighted Courtesy (5.12a). Elaine, Lucy, Caroline, and I warmed up on Cheesecake (5.9). Elaine onsighted it, first-time outdoor-leader Lucy flashed it, and I…didn't.

Caroline and I are kindred, height-fearing, helmet-wearing spirits.

I took a pretty scary lead fall on the Sand Rock classic Misty (5.10b/c) in April, and since then I've developed an unfortunate fear of heights. But Sunday, I decided it was time to conquer my lead-fear. I knew I was ready to flash this 9, but I wigged out near the top and took my first lead fall since that one. It was for the best, though; I needed to fall again, this time correctly. And it wasn't that bad.

And later, when I sent the route, Charles told me to pull up a bunch of slack and then jump from the anchors. It's the second-scariest thing I've ever done, and I took a minute to work up the courage. The moment before my feet left the rock filled my entire body with fear, but the thirty feet down were exhilarating. Trusting the gear and my belayer was weirdly empowering in the way it freed me from "what-if" thoughts. Qué será, será, you know? You're already flying through the air, you have no control — might as well enjoy gravity. It took my body like, ten minutes to stop shaking, but I couldn't stop smiling either. I highly recommend this technique for anyone trying to get over a fear of falling. (Thanks, Chuck!)

Chuck.

After that, we did a 10a called Vogue that really felt easier than the 9 (but whatever, burly route-setters). Lucy, Elaine, and I worked an 11c on toprope after Chuck and Thomas put it up. Lucy was the only one to make it up, but I think we should all work this one again when we're fresh and a little bit stronger.

Some call her Cruisey.

Elaine was kind of a crusher after taking like, three months off.

Now that I've reined in The Fear a little, I can't wait to get back to the Canyon (specifically Grey Wall, where the 5.11s Obsession and Easy Out are awaiting my send). I'm psyched for bouldering season to begin, but I'm starting to get the hang of this sport thing. I think even when "The Season" is here, I'll keep climbing higher…and occasionally jumping down.

V2 Tears: My pancake lament

Unrelated Soddy-Daisy sky shot

I hate Pancake Mantle.

If you haven't heard of it, Pancake Mantle is a V2 at Little Rock City (aka Stone Fort), my second-favorite bouldering spot. It is this goofy climb that requires you to pull yourself up onto this pancakey piece of rock and mantle/thigh-scum/desperately butt-hop to the top-out. It's like, three moves, and everybody thinks it's oh so funny and is like, "Have you tried Pancake Mantle LOL it's so funny right OMG you should do it right now DO IIIT" every time I'm at LRC.

Oh, yes. I've tried the insidious 'cake.

I'm gonna call myself a solid V3/V4 climber, but I cannot do Pancake Mantle. I've tried on four occasions, and I simply can't pull myself onto the pancake. Which I suppose isn't that surprising because I can't do a pullup on a bar either, but like, it's a V2, man. IT'S A V2.

So when I made an impromptu trip to LRC on Sunday with Evan and our friend Matt, I maybe should have passed Ole Cakey and just kept walking. But instead, I turned back to confront the enemy. And then I attacked it for thirty minutes, scraped my arm up, didn't send, and started to cry.

That's right. I cried at Pancake Mantle. "BUT IT'S A VEE TEWWW," I shudder-wept at Evan. I compared it to the myriad V3s and V4s I've worked that are "S-SO MUCH EASIER. IT'S NOT FUH-AIR. HOW IS THIS A VEE TEWWW?" I wavered between accusing the surely burly dude who probably graded this problem of taking his upper body strength for granted and not really knowing the life of a V2 climber and lamenting that I should be able to do any 2, 'cause I've been climbing for a year, man, and 2s are a thing of last July. After sitting on a rock and pouting/sniffling/breathing deeply for a while, I reluctantly moved to where the guys were working some V5 dyno and pouted over there instead. I felt better after sending Rib Cage (V3), which I'd projected before, but the feeling of Pancake Failure stayed with me.

But you know what? I need to get over it. Pancake Mantle is obviously not my style, and there are lots of problems that throwing myself at would actually be fun and productive. And although my pullup inability is definitely an obstacle to be overcome, the only reason this problem is so upsetting to me is because of that silly number.

'Cause really, in some ways the numbers are silly, and pretty subjective. Sure, V points are a good way to measure your general progress, but there's a lot more to climbing than grade-hopping. Here are some things I can do now that I couldn't do before I started climbing:

- open doors on campus with one arm instead of my entire body weight (gonna call this a V1 move)

- pour sugar with one hand on the bag and no spillage (V2)

- pick up industrial-sized bean cans with one hand (def V2)

- make it to the Kroger checkout without trading my produce basket for a buggy (V1/V2, depending on what's in season)

et cetera.

Also, some projects I will probably send before I get Pancake Mantle ('cause I will get it someday):

- Two Can Sam (V3, LRC)

- Swingers (V4, LRC)

- Super Mario (V4, LRC)

- Trouble (V3, Rocktown)

- Screaming Church Girls (V4, Rocktown)

- Isle of Beautiful Women (V4, Rocktown)

- Golden Showers (V5, Rocktown — I mean, maybe.)

Text break!

The rest of the day was pretty nice in spite of my breakdown and the 92-degree heat. The guys had a better attitude than I did and climbed fun stuff below their grades after working Red House (V7) for a bit. The coolest part for me, though, was all the critters that were out! We saw so many caterpillars. Also, salamanders (I think), but they were camera shy.

Anyway, next time I'm at Little Rock City, I'm heading straight to my projects. I may give Pancake Mantle a few courtesy tries, but if the send isn't imminent, I'll shrug it off and move on to Super Mario.

Pictures!

Same photo, different bro. #sorrynotsorry

Oh, yeah! And I changed the blog name to Eat & Climb, because well duh. And now I'm domain-name legit.