In an effort to be more positive in the New Year, I wanted to write a few articles describing things I like, instead of those that aggravate me. But what to call them? I need a catchy title. If Jams My Cams brings on the feeling of watching your prized blue number two catch an invisible crystal and overcam, what is the opposite? What witty phrase can I use to describe that feeling of relief and release when a jammed stopper finally pops free?
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You know what really Unstucks My Nuts? Ok, ok, its not great, but its a start. I like to get high. As a self proclaimed ‘straight-edge’ kid in my younger years and still, for lack of a better word, a perennially sober individual, its never been through imbibing chemicals. For that reason, I have had to resort to putting some air under my feet, and it doesn’t even have to be that much some days. In looking back at my ascents in the past year, I’ve realized there are many flavors of climbing high. Sometimes, its blissful and I feel hyper-awareness but also incredible calm. Others, the rest of the world fades away into a silent, inky, blackness and I find myself aware only of the holds in my “bubble” of reach. Oh, and then there are those described best as inescapable mortal terror. I’d like to share with you these drugs and their nuances.
Alcohol (Regret it later) – How apt, as this was the gateway drug for me. A teenaged, skater-shoe free solo of a chossy local face that culminated in having four cute high school classmates, who just happened to be sunbathing up top, help haul my ass over the lip when I choked on the mantle. I wish I was making that up. My girlfriend at the time was pissed for any number of reasons once she got to the top, demanding I not speak of this ascent to my two, then and now, closest climbing partners – it was stupid, dangerous, and I couldn’t bear the risk of them attempting to emulate it. The most notable thing about Alcohol is the hang-over. Its fun in the moment, but for one reason or another, regret or guilt will find you when you come down.
Acid (Regret it now) – It’ll be fun, you think. I’d have a good time. Then it wasn’t. Call it a bad trip. You’re higher up than ever before. The crashpad below looks like a postage stamp, and your spotters are yelling something about Egyptians, that schmear stuff you put on bagels, and that douchebag from Beauty and the Beast. None of it makes any sense. The “undercling jug” you saw is just chalkdust. Your world starts to go dark, the only perceivable thing being the holds in your reach. And then just the holds you are clutching. And then nothing. Oh, wait, you had just closed your eyes in terror. You remind yourself that eyelids are, in fact, manually operated and open them to repeat the process.
Meth (Seriously, WTF) – You know what they say, “Meth. Not even once.” This is a highball that you know is a bad idea before you even step off terrafirma. Maybe its loose rock, you’re on your own, or even worse, you have a spotter but they are a moron. Maybe its just a bad feeling you can’t put a finger on. Any which way, you shake those thoughts out against your better judgement and set off, only to find they’re not really gone. Each move takes more energy than it should because your focus is elsewhere. If you’re lucky, you’ll hang on long enough to ask yourself “what I am doing?”, back down, and go home in one piece.
PCP (Hidden Strength) – This is my second favorite, and I usually don’t have time to realize I am under its influence until I am shaking violently and cramping hard during the ensuing come down from adrenaline. Maybe I am over an off kilter landing (looking at you ‘Watermark’ at LRC), or maybe I am just high up on not-holds (looking at you ‘Trick or Treat’ at HP40). I’m probably shaking a little, or frustrated and stalled out, and then I hear it. That subtle, upward shift in the tone of my spotter’s shouted encouragement. They’re scared. Well if they’re scared, I probably ought to be to! Or maybe its just the low whispers that they don’t intend you to hear, “Oh shit! Move that pad! Faster!” In either case, fight or flight takes over, and like a 90-pound mother lifting a Cadillac off her child, your inner Hulk kicks in – imagine Jimmy Webb but green and in purple shorts. You black out only to come to standing on top, completely unaware of how you got there. You couldn’t give someone beta if you tried.
Marijuana (Transcendence) – This is by far my favorite high, and sadly one of the hardest to find. When things just…….click. Hard, high, climbing, without fear or worry. I will argue that this cannot be achieved on routes you’ve done repeatedly – the highest of transcendent highs for me has come from ground up ascents, once you pass your previous highpoint, are past a move you can’t reverse, and are into the beautiful unknown. You’re in the zone as they say, the world below you fades away and its just you and the stone ahead. You can’t hear your spotters voices, because they stand silently gobsmacked by how cool, calm, and secure it looks. You are a person who doesn’t need shouted platitudes, because you have it, even if just for a moment.
What’s your drug? What high did I miss?
Justin Meserve is a total square who has never been chemically high a day in his life, and is therefore completely unqualified to write the above. He sure does like to stick his neck out there high off the deck though.
