Back in early November, I went rock-climbing for the first time. New Paltz is world renowned for the Shawangunk mountain range, which can be see from almost everywhere in town. Despite this, only now, months before I am leaving the area is of course the first time I take advantage of what this area offers.
I've sky-dived and loved it, so I figured what could be difficult about climbing some rocks? Well, it turns out, lots. My friend Jesse, led my first climb. I met him early in the morning to drive up the mountain. We parked and he and his friends sorted through the brightly colored tools that allow you to safely climb mountains. Climbers call it gear. I have never before climbed any sort of wall, as a kid I climbed trees often but that was a long time ago.
After they sort out their racks, we walk along the side of the mountain and suddenly Jesse stops and says "This is us."
I look up and wonder what I've gotten myself into. I have easily two hundred feet between me and my goal, the crest of the mountain. You would think I could remember what the name of the route is called, but I can't. I can remember the climb I failed to finish, Ursula, and the climb where I dropped a cam off the cliff next to the dangler, called Three Pines, but I think I had more important things on my mind during this one and somehow it's name slips my memory.
Jesse climbs up first, moving naturally and lithely on the rock, making it appear easy and relaxing. Before I know it, I'm on belay and able to start climbing. The first pitch is easy enough, I'm climbing and doing my best not to think about anything else. The really elegant aspect of climbing is that your mind becomes very focused on doing, and everything else fades away. Somewhere on my second pitch I think I got off path, and was in a position where I had to jump to grab my next handhold. Immediately, I became terrified. I start to think what the hell am I doing up here, what if I fall? What then? Will the rope hold? My leg starts shaking up and down uncontrollably. I look off to the side of the rock along the cliff face and catch sight of a leaf falling perfectly to the ground. It is a beautiful day, and from this height I can see all of New Paltz, the leaves are just starting to change, and I start to calm down a bit. I try the move, half-heartedly, not really believing I can pull it. I can't, I start shaking again and wait. I'm stuck in my head, all I can think is I can't do this. I start telling myself over and over again that I can do it. I keep telling Jesse that I'm going to climb soon. I don't. I spend probably twenty minutes, each of which felt like an hour psyching myself out of climbing. Finally, I say I'm climbing and before I realize what I'm doing I've made the two inch jump necessary for my hand to reach the next hold. I pull it and climb up to the landing where Jesse's waiting. He says we have another hundred feet to go.
My spirits sink. I think it's cold. That's too far. I can't do it. Maybe I should give up. He starts climbing and soon I hear him telling me to climb, and I start. At first I am uncomfortable and a bit scared, but I am happy to move. Sitting there made me feel very cold and the wind was cutting right through me. The last pitch is awesome. There's holds everywhere and I feel like an action hero. There are a couple moments where I nearly fall, I start to slip but keep moving and before I realize it I'm within feet of the top. I'm panting and decide to rest a minute before finishing the climb.
After a couple moments I climb up and its over. It was a huge challenge for me, and a great opportunity to learn to control my thoughts and be in the moment. I'm only sad that I will be leaving New Paltz without having climbed all the classic routes it has to offer. I will be back to visit and climb some more, that is for sure.
