Yosemite 2015 – Part 3 (the best part!)

/ Wendy Ong / Leave a comment

Five days short of five years ago, my life intersected unexpectedly with Christopher Williams. Christopher, along with his partner, were the first people to reach me when I fell (200 ft according to Chris!) and were part of the rescue effort with a handful of other climbers. No words were exchanged and Chris later said he had no idea how I was going to live beyond our first meeting.

This past weekend, we finally had the opportunity to meet face-to-face. I felt so grateful to finally be able to thank Chris in person and to give him a very long and very emotional hug. We were both crying. Not only were we able to meet officially, but we got to rope up and climb together. We decided to climb in Tuolumne to escape the heat of the Valley. As we waited for temperatures to warm up, we picked American Wet Dream as our first climb together, due to the all-day sun exposure it receives.

This was a poignant choice for a climb as this had been the last Tuolumne route I had climbed before my accident.

12108104_10153697704881602_5726730295149695080_n

Getting into the .10 tips sections

12112471_10153697704936602_771286901251633147_n

More .10 corner trickery

IMG_1305

Chris getting started on his crux pitch.

IMG_1310

Praying at the altar of Cathedral Peak in the background.

12112471_10153697704861602_4486016943351733084_n

Chris’ leash to me. I hate down-climbing 5th class terrain un-roped, so I ask to be tied in. Tenaya Lake is in the background.

I still feel a bit bad that our choice of climbs was limited by the length/kind of approaches. So what do two climbers – one who dislikes slab climbing and one who used to like slab but can’t trust one of her feet/legs now – do? Find some runout slab climbing. We headed to Pywiak Dome, where both of us (especially me) were pushed out of our comfort zone.

12115775_10153697703841602_6274902365236876511_n

Zero gear, zero bolts to the anchors, ~135 ft above. First pitch, so a fall would have been a ground fall, and Chris was not anchored. Chris’ expression says it all. I was very very glad to reach the anchors.

It was interesting to see what kinds of techniques I employed to compensate for my left foot. Aside from the usual crimping on tiny flakes and crystals (there were not many at all), I found myself palming up a lot with my hands to create space to move my right leg, and just be on my palms momentarily while I moved my right leg up. Being on just your palms on near vertical, featureless, steep slab is pretty spicy (i.e. scary). As Chris says, [my] climbing is really bold!

12108292_10153697704276602_9043633245740600912_n

On one of my .10 runout slab pitches. I would trend upwards and right because of my good right leg, only to find that the bolts were way to the left and I would need to do something desperate to get over to that left side.

I was not at all pleased when I saw how far the anchors were away from the last bolt on this pitch. They were a good 20+ ft above the bolt. Well, what could I do except keep my concentration and focus and make my slowly and deliberately to the anchors?

After a dicey first half of that section, the last ten feet or so eased up. I found myself right at the anchors, but not clipped into them yet. Suddenly my left foot blew and I found myself tumbling 40+ feet, scraping down the sharp rock, inverted and not really knowing what to do except wait for Chris’ catch. Fortunately, because it was very cold and we were climbing in the shade, my long pants, baselayers and jacket protected me a bit and prevented me from looking like an even bigger piece of scar tissue than I already do. My hands were pretty trashed though, and one week later, they are still healing. Typing and using a mouse have been a bit painful.

I was quite proud that even after such a long and disorienting fall, I decided I wanted to finish off the pitch, despite Chris’ offers to do so. I knew I would not be happy if I did not. I hung out at that bolt for a bit, gingerly tested out my feet and still not feeling like I could trust them. But I went for it anyway, and once I got within reach of the anchor chains, I grabbed them immediately! I/we were safe.

12140647_10153697704411602_6255089623510473217_n

Climbing back up to the last bolt before the anchors, after my 40 foot fall. “I’m okay” :-/

While NIAD did not happen on this trip, I think in some way, I got to do some even more rewarding things. As many climbers, especially trad climbers I believe, will tell you, one of the most valuable and rewarding things a climber gets out of climbing are the inter-personal relationships formed. Meeting and climbing with Chris was such a wonderful and unexpected gift, and I know I can always call him a friend. Life isn’t a fairy-tale, and we move in and out of different trials throughout our life. I am thankful that I was able to meet Chris on the other side of a particularly traumatic episode of my life. He insists that things will only get better. I hope so.

12140814_10153697703821602_1500235222464029440_n

This picture makes me simultaneously tear up and happy.

Yosemite 2015 – Part 2

/ Wendy Ong / Leave a comment

After our Nose bail, I rested for a day or two before getting my free-climbing on. My first warm up climb was Superslide, still one of my favourite easy climbs, years after doing it as one of my first Valley leads.

photo 2

(Photo: Michael Wolf)

 

photo 3

The easiest way to look like a little kid is to do things that make you happy and fulfilled (Photo: Michael Wolf)

Later, I was pleased to lead my first Valley 10c routes since my accident. The routes/grades in themselves are not noteworthy; but what is, is the kind of climbs these were i.e. climbs that target all my physical deficits. They were super thin (could get my first finger tip of two fingers in) right leaning lie backs, left-ward climb (my left leg is the one that doesn’t cooperate); they were run-out (because I did not have the right sized gear); hanging off just two right finger tips as my left foot dangled and I cut my right foot out of the crack to inch it up. It felt like a non-trivial milestone (or at least a small road-sign).

I later partnered up with Michael, a buddy I had not climbed with in over 7 years. I wondered how he would feel climbing with me and seeing me move slowly on approaches and descents. I asked him about this; did he feel sadness in seeing me not be able to do some of the things I used to be able to do? Or was he just psyched to see me outside and climbing, especially since the last time he had seen me was when he visited me in my temporary apartment near the facility I did my acute in-patient rehab in, shuffling around slowly using crutches, when I was not using my wheelchair. He confirmed it was the latter, especially since I climb harder than him on vertical terrain and get the hard(er) pitches. It seemed like a fair enough trade, since he carried the rope and most of the rack on our approaches.

We hopped on routes I had not done in years, such as Commitment to Selaginella, and Kor-beck. I remember waltzing up Commitment in my early year climbing. The crux roof move, which I led, was a bit more daunting this time round. Liebacks just aren’t my forte any more, because I can’t exert much pressure with my leg or walk my left leg up. I led it clean, but it certainly wasn’t as easy-peasy as before.

Roofs are always a little discombobulating (Photo: Michael Wolf)

12079889_10153716795156388_2497437986273104492_o

Not a bad view from a belay spot.

We decided to head over to the East Buttress of Middle Cathedral on our last climbing day together, hoping that the shade would provide a respite from the heat. I led the 10a variation to Kor-beck, which was quite spicy! It is a left trending series of moves, and at one point, I had to commit to just one hand/pull-up to bring my right leg around the corner. Again, I was pleased to have led those harder pitches clean. Kor-beck is a fun route, in that stout, wide, kinda awkward Valley kinda way.

12112186_10153720829611388_5930204964703183478_n

Michael following the .10 variation pitch to Kor-beck.

Belaying Mike on Kor-beck (Photo: Michael Wolf)

Belaying Mike on Kor-beck. Not sure if I have enough clothing dangling off my harness or not (Photo: Michael Wolf)

It was nice to get a bit of objective feedback that I could climb some non-trivial (in terms of difficulty) classics that I had climbed before my accident. And, again, it was nice to know that I am not the weakest link in a climbing partnership. I feel like, if anything, my experience and emphasis on being a safe and competent climbing partner, makes me a better climbing partner than before.

Yosemite 2015 – Part 1

/ Wendy Ong / Leave a comment

Well, there is quite a bit of catching up to do. I am back facing the daily grind of life, but will be posting about my time in the Valley. I was not sure what to expect, given all the uncertainty around my original objectives. There was disappointment and surprises (good and bad); but, overall, the trip was a wonderful and healing experience. Apologies in advance if the tenses are bit weird here and in the next few posts.

IMG_1963

Since my plans were unclear, I ended up bringing a lot of my free and aid-climbing gear. It is hard to tell, but the rolling bag is twice the capacity of the gear bag on my back.

IMG_1962

I am carrying ~125 lbs worth of gear (and I weigh 105 lbs on a good day). So, yes, it was a bit of a circus lugging these bags around airports and rental car terminals.

So, what do you do when your original NIAD partner backs out one week before your scheduled departure? You get back on the big stone anyway, the leisurely, older than old-school way. My friend, Clint, threw out Lurking Fear and Zodiac as alternatives to The Nose, in case it was too busy. The less slabby hauling on Zodiac sounded much more appealing; but the short approach to The Nose won out, and we at least went out to see if there was a line and see if we could fix lines to Sickle Ledge.

IMG_1251

An old friend.

Older than old school.

IMG_1248

Clint starting up. The weather was unseasonably cool and the sky became less blue as the day went on.

DSCF1149

Lots of lower-outs on the route.

I find that even on slabby terrain, keeping just my right (good) foot in an aider works the best for me. My left foot/leg can be utilized more when it is allowed to stick out straight, and it is hard to keep that foot in step-aiders anyway. I do keep a ladder aider attached to me though, just in case

DSCF1146

(Photo: Clint Cummins)

 

DSCF1164_adj

We got to Sickle just as the sun was setting (Photo: Clint Cummins)

We decided not to pack the haul bag and haul to Sickle that evening, deciding to just crash and sleep on the ground instead and deal with things in the morning. This was a decision I would later regret.

The next morning started off, as usual, very leisurely. We took our time waking up and then dealing with packing the haul bag. Then we began the jug up the fixed lines to Sickle. I was curious to see how my stamina would be for non-stop jugging for quite a ways, as this would give me a better idea of how I might do jugging as fast as possible, continuously, in a NIAD attempt. To my pleasant surprise, I was not moving slowly or getting too tired too quickly.

DSCF1167

Moving from one fixed line to another (Photo: Clint)

 

And what does one do when they are done with their extra fixed line, which is not required for the rest of the route? Why, this of course.

DSCF1173

Guess which one is Clint’s (our) haul bag? This was the first time I was introduced to the concept of a haul bag condom (Photo: Clint)

DSCF1175

More lower outs (Photo: Clint)

DSCF1177

The lighting in the photo is deceptive. The fact that my headlamp is poised on my helmet, is not. (Photo: Clint)

 

The combination of our very leisurely start and some hauling misadventures (it took a very very long time to get our haul bag up to Sickle and beyond) led to an all night epic. Clearly, I am built for fast and light, not frigid multiple-hour, uncomfortable belays. I was struggling to keep it together in the dark and cold. Turning off my headlamp to conserve battery life just made me feel even more alone and cold. I was shivering uncontrollably at points and at one point teared up, as I do when I am very very cold. I knew I had to keep composed though and get myself, our bag and our gear to Dolt. Clint was a total chief, doing some long pitches in the dark and hauling.

As I was waiting at the hanging belays, I heard from faster parties that there was rain/thunderstorms in the forecast, which was why so many parties were trying to do their NIAD run that night/day. After napping on Dolt for a few hours, we made the decision to go down. It was not a difficult decision to make, given we had little in the way of rain gear, and climbing the route in wet, cold conditions, with lightning and thunder would have been ridiculous. The forecast did materialize and we did well to get off the route. Of course there was quite a bit of disappointment not being able to finish the route due to factors out of our control. But what can you do about weather? What would have been worse would have been to bail and then see sunny skies the rest of the time. Most importantly, we both got back to the ground safely.

Clint put the following two images together to show where along the route we reached and descended from.

POV_2743R

Nose_to_Dolt_ov

I guess there were a lot of positives to this experience. It felt good to know that I am back in the big-wall game; that my modified jumaring technique works even on vertical non-overhanging terrain; my jumaring stamina and speed are good; confident/comfortable on lower outs (found that the Deucy worked fine); and I was not the limiting factor (well, I was pretty useless for the hauling – which was a bitch. Clint and I need to find a fat person as our counterweight or at least find someone a lot heavier than the two of us to do the hauling).

I extended by trip by two days in the hopes of a possible NIAD attempt the next weekend – partner and weather-dependent. I couldn’t believe there was so much wet and cold weather in the forecast. What the hell!

Getting back on El Cap has rekindled the flame and given me perspective for future trips; if NIAD does not work out this trip, I will try to come back in the Spring when there is more daylight. I would love to solo a big wall route, but think the hauling thing will be a deal-breaker for me.

Trip update

/ Wendy Ong / Leave a comment

Well, I have spent the last five days feeling extremely frazzled and dejected. Despite frantically reaching out to friends and strangers, as of now, I have not found a partner who can do NIAD with me in my specific time-frame. For reasons around time, expense, and grant stipulations, I feel like I have to attempt NIAD this trip.  I am also in good shape now and I do not know whether I will be able to maintain outdoor climbing shape through the winter months in New England.

Having the rug pulled out from under me so last minute also highlights just how poorly I deal with improvisation and lack of plans.

However, I had a slight shift in my thoughts today. As my friend Chad correctly says,  getting up a big wall is most about highs and lows, adapting to setbacks, never giving up and having some luck. This translates well to life. El Cap is not going anywhere any time soon, so there is the option of attempting NIAD in the spring if I can find someone to do it with. My friend, Clint, also suggested we go up El Cap the more leisurely way, and do a multi-day thing either on The Nose, Zodiac or Lurking Fear. The last two options will have much tougher approaches for me (especially with a heavy haul bag), and require portaledges. Worse comes to worse, I spend a day making multiple trips humping loads.

It will still be my first big-wall route since my accident, so I know just getting up El Cap, no matter how slow or fast, will be a worthy accomplishment in itself. I don’t want to feel frazzled and rushed if/when I attempt NIAD; so perhaps going the slow route this time round might be the more prudent and enjoyable thing to do anyway.

Although I was feeling completely defeated, I was somewhat heartened by the response I got from some climbers I propositioned, some of them some pretty big names! While none of them could climb with me at that time, their support for my continued journey and comeback moved me to tears.

Update to update:

There is one young kid who might be willing to do this with me. I just need to see for myself whether I’ll be able to stave off the forearms cramping or bonking on the last third of The Nose.

My (romantic) partner told me, as I was expressing to him all my feelings of complete failure:

“But Wendy, so what? Really. You haven’t done a big wall for five years. You had a fall that should have killed you. So bopping out to Yosemite, walking up to El Cap, and doing NIAD on your first outing is “reasonable”?” :)

The hydration/nutrition issue will really be a key thing for me to figure out. And while I am fit and have good stamina, who knows what it will be like on a wall when one leg is getting a free ride.

Big NIAD setback

/ Wendy Ong / Leave a comment

It’s been a rough month on the personal front. So, you can imagine how I felt late this morning, when I received an email from my NIAD partner that he had hurt his hamstring (on stupid plastic, no less!) and could no longer do NIAD with me. I know stuff like this happens, and we have no control over such things; but still, the timing is pretty bloody awful.

I am reaching out to my contacts to see if I can find a replacement partner; the problem is, the person has to be someone I totally trust, who can climb within a very specific time-window due to my limited time out in the Valley (and my schedule had been centered around my old partner’s availability); and who will be patient enough to do the descent with gimpy me.

I am an atheist and humanist, but it still seems like the universe is playing a pretty cruel joke on me right now. Trying not to feel totally crushed and deflated. I know I have two choices: 1) Give up; and 2) Head to the Valley and improvise. The latter is not my usual MO (neither is the first one). This is another “test of character”, when really, I just wanted a “test of climbing.”

No avoiding slab…

/ Wendy Ong / Leave a comment

I have mentioned in previous posts that jugging on slabby/vertical terrain will be one of the biggest challenges for me. This is because, normally, you want your weight to be over your feet (i.e. a body position that is as vertical as possible) so that the larger muscles of the leg do most of the work; as opposed to tiring out your smaller arm muscles. However, my left leg likes to stay straight because I can lock the knee out and use it a bit. This makes my butt stick out and has my upper body doing a lot of the hard work.

I could not avoid practicing jugging on non-overhanging terrain, so off to Crow Hill I went. Again. It is worth mentioning that on my very first excursion to Crow Hill, I really wondered whether I would be able to carry my fat rope, static line and aiding gear by myself. It is not a long approach by “normal” standards; maybe 20 minutes or so to the base of the crag, and then a walk up a defined trail to the top of the ledge to set up anchors. I declined offers of help to carry my stuff because I needed to prove/see for myself whether I could do it on my own. Subsequent trips have not been a problem at all, so that is one thing to be pleased about I suppose.

I set up a fixed line on a dinky slab and experimented around with different aiders. I first tried using a Metolius Easy Aider on my right leg, and then a regular ladder aider on my left leg. This proved to be quite inefficient as my left foot kept coming out of the ladder aider step. Perhaps I could strap my left foot to a step using a velcro strap? I decided to ditch the left aider altogether and just have my left leg free to be straight. This works decently on a surface with a fair bit of friction. I have doubts about whether this will work on a smoother surface, such as El Cap. I am going to carry a spare ladder aider regardless.

There has been a slight shift in my attitude towards this goal. I am still feeling self-inflicted pressure to “succeed”, but I am also realizing that I need to take the pressure off myself and just enjoy climbing one of the sweetest lines around. NIAD is a big mission that some of the best in the world fail at; there are so many factors that play into this e.g. weather, other parties on the route, logistics etc. I received some excellent advice; to start up in the evening (while it is still light) when everyone else is settling into their bivys; then climb through the night (with multiple headlamps for the hands and feet), when traffic is lightest. Hopefully we will be high on the wall at day break, giving us daylight to finish the climb with.

So, I need to climb at night and figure out the whole lightning scene. And I will have to assess how much water I should bring and drink. I know that it can get really hot ton El Cap and underestimating the heat up there is potentially dangerous. Do I risk just peeing in my pants? Or do I just maintain a state of slight dehydration? I’m leaning towards the former…

Anyhow, the road to The Nose continues…

Anxieties and preparations for NIAD

/ Wendy Ong / Leave a comment

The last month has been incredibly stressful, due to balancing family and personal issues with preparations for NIAD. It has been challenging to train for NIAD around here because of 1) lack of long pitches and similar terrain, 2) the capriciousness of New England weather, and 3) pressing family matters that have sucked time away from this endeavour. While I am lucky to have a relatively flexible job, it is nonetheless, an office-job with an energy economics consulting firm that makes it hard to take days off in the middle of the week when the weather is good. The release of the EPA’s Clean Power Plan final rule has made August and September especially busy at work. My short time in the Valley and really only having one shot at this over one weekend is adding to the pressure I am feeling.

My main concerns are around my jugging stamina and not having my forearms and biceps cramp-up because I will have to rely on them more given the inability to transfer weight between my legs. While I have my set-up down for overhanging terrain, I am still not sure what I will do on slabbier/vertical terrain.

I have experimented around with some different equipment and set-ups, and for overhanging terrain at least, I am going to go with a Metolius Easy-Daisy attached to my top ascender (left for me, even though I am right-handed), a regular daisy-chain and Metolius Easy-Aider attached to my lower (right) ascender, and a Metolius pocket-aider or shortened Metolius ladder aider.

The closest place for me to set up a fixed line to practice jugging on has been Crow Hill in Central Mass. I’m going to try getting out there before I leave for the Valley at the end of the month.

I really should have started my bicep-increasing training plan earlier.

WTF.

WTF.

Despite my anxieties, I know I am in pretty good trad climbing shape. But, the length, exposure and all the other variables on a big-wall temper this a bit.

Sporadic posting over next month

/ Wendy Ong / Leave a comment

I think it is easy for climbers, as a group, to lose perspective on things and forget that there is a lot more to life than climbing. I have certainly been guilty of this in the past and still have a tendency to have my moods be dependent on my climbing “performance” or how much/little I have been climbing etc. Part of this, I am sure, is due to climbing being such a time-intensive activity (staying in climbing shape, let alone training and improving; driving to/from climbing areas and actually doing the climbing). Part of it is perhaps due to climbing being an escapist pursuit for some of us, where we can put on ice the stresses and worries of everyday life, and focus on the very simple task of climbing a route without injuring ourselves/dying.

But life has a habit of throwing things at you that make you realize how unimportant climbing is in the scheme of things. I have been thrown such an object and while I will try my best at compartmentalizing my worries/fears/anxieties about this thing and keep myself well by doing things that I enjoy in my spare time, I have been, historically, very poor at this. I will certainly not be posting a ton as I will be emotionally and time-wise unavailable for awhile.

On a more light-hearted note, I leave you with this picture of me in an over-sized (Small) Metolius shirt and team cap.

How to look like a flat-chested 12 year old boy, yo. The photo also highlights how much skinnier my left leg is than my right.

How to look like a flat-chested 12 year old boy, yo. The photo also highlights how much skinnier my left leg is than my right. Hot stuff, eh.

Thrown into the aid-climbing deep-end (photo edition)

/ Wendy Ong / Leave a comment

Lots of photos for a change…

Chad happened to catch me when I was actually smiling.

Chad happened to catch me when I was actually smiling (Photo credit: Chad Hussey)

I do not remember how Chad and I ended up arranging to climb together in North Conway this past weekend, but I am very glad we did. I first met Chad at my very first climbing experience (on any medium) post-accident: a Paradox Sports ice-climbing event in February 2013. For some reason we have kept in touch and Chad has been a steadfast supporter of mine since then.  Chad was aware of my NIAD plans, so he put forth the possibility of doing some aid-climbing together. The weather forecast was not looking good: a long weekend of straight rain. But we were committed to going, so I mentally prepared myself to spend two straight days being pretty miserable in the rain.

The weather forecast improved but we still decided to get on Mordor Wall with bail options. The route gets a C2-A2/A3 rating, depending on the condition of the fixed copperheads. This was my first time following and cleaning post-accident, and it was pretty disheartening to see how much I had forgotten and how slowly I moved. But, I learned a ton. The second pitch in particular contains a section known as the “Terror Traverse”; which teaches you how to get good at following and cleaning near-horizontal traverses quickly. “Traverse” is, like, two 4-letter words in one. I went with the “deucy” method and had a slow time with that. The combination of my slowness and some separate personal worries really made me think about calling off my NIAD attempt. But, while hanging out on the wall, somewhat miserable and trying to regain circulation that had been cut off by my harness leg loops and belay seat, I knew I would just beat myself up even more for not even trying.

Who knew I looked so focused? (Photo: Chad Hussey)

Who knew I looked so focused? (Photo: Chad Hussey)

The

The “Terror Traverse” on Mordor Wall (Photo: Chad Hussey)

Yay, rope management (Photo: Chad Hussey)

Yay, rope management (Photo: Chad Hussey)

Cleaning the Terror Traverse (Photo: Chad Hussey)

Cleaning/lowering out on the Terror Traverse (Photo: Chad Hussey)

Chad did an awesome job hooking his way across/up p2; the copperheads that were in place were not the most reassuring sight.

“CopperNest” (Photo: Chad Hussey)

Chad cruising the traverse (Photo: Wendy, enhanced by Chad)

Chad cruising the traverse (Photo: Wendy, enhanced by Chad)

Precautions (Photo: Chad Hussey)

Precautions (Photo: Chad Hussey)

Chad provided a lot of useful feedback on things I could perhaps improve on/eliminate/try. I will be trying to find the time to experiment with some different set-ups that might work for me and my gimpy leg. All those one legged squats will be great training for ski season, if nothing else.

Fortunately I redeemed myself by being the rope-gun on Saturday. I had never gotten on the North Conway ultra-classic Recompense, so we hopped on that.

While only three pitches long, each pitch is quite long. I'm getting quite high up on pitch 1 already.

While only three pitches long, each pitch is quite long. I’m getting quite high up on pitch 1 already (Photo: Chad Hussey)

Chad coming up p1 of Recompense

My favourite pitches were p2 and p3, by far. Fortunately, it only started raining hard and blowing when I was past the harder sections of p3. Nevertheless, things got quite atmospheric and I was plugging in a ton of pro at the top in case of slipping and falling.

First moves off the deck, p3.

First moves off the deck, p3 (Photo: Chad Hussey)

Surprisingly easy time, even though I can't stick my left foot in cracks any more.

Surprisingly easy time, even though I can’t stick my left foot in cracks any more. Small fingers help here (Photo: Chad Hussey)

Thanks to Chad for being great company and a patient and safe climbing partner. And for taking so many cool pics!

Metolius Climbing Team!

/ Wendy Ong / Leave a comment

I am so pleased to announce that I am now a member of the Metolius Climbing Team! Given my love for trad climbing, this partnership is a natural one but at the same time it is so humbling to be on the same team as Beth Rodden, Will Stanhope, Jonathan Siegrist, Peter Croft (!!), and so many other talented climbers.

I basically started climbing in the Metolius Safe-Tech Womens Deluxe harness and continue to use it as my outdoor harness. For obvious reasons, I really appreciate how much thought goes into making their gear safe/bomber. But what has really touched and impressed me is my interaction with Metolius’ VP (and head of many things) Brooke Sandahl.

I first contacted Metolius in late January of this year, and Brooke responded to me. While the Metolius Climbing Team was at capacity and not accepting any new members, Brooke said, “I would like to offer you a chance to become one of our ambassadors…This would be a foot in the door to be a part of the team.  After all you’ve been through, I feel like you’ve earned the right to represent Metolius, even if it is in this modest fashion!” His kindness and empathy of what I had gone, and continue to go, through was apparent even at this early stage.

At the end of July, I pinged Brooke to give him an update of my year so far and, to my surprise, he welcomed me onto the Team! I quickly offered my thoughts on quite a few things, including their XS trad harnesses now only having two gear loops. Brooke actually listened to my feedback carefully and gave me thoughtful responses; and he also offered to customize an XS harness for me that does have at least four gear loops. I mean, it is not like I am some rockstar climber who sends 5.14’s regularly. I’m just some piddly gimp who has overcome a fair bit.

I really am humbled and honored to be welcomed into this fold of such esteemed company and what Metolius Climbing​ stands for.