“Are you there?” my buddy Mikey Dominguez yelled. (Different Mikey)
“No!” I replied, trying to hide my fear.
“Oh crap, I am going to fall, and oh crap, it is going to be far, like 40 feet, crap, why did I have to lead this route.” I thought to my self.
There I was, 90 feet up a 140 feet route, in Yosemite National Park, clinging like a lizard for dear life, only not as graceful as a lizard, nor as skilled. My heart was pounding, I looked over my shoulder and saw the last piece of protection, a nut I had wedged in a little crack.
“Is that thing even going to hold? If I fall now, and it holds, it will be like a 40 foot fall, if it doesn’t hold, probably 50 feet, oh crap, please don’t fall, please don’t fall.”
I took a few deep breaths…Wait lets back up to when it all started.
I got my first taste for rock climbing when I was around 10 years old. My family took a trip to Yosemite National Park. My older brother, Jared (7 years older then me) wanted to take me rock climbing. He set up an anchor at the top of the rock and then repelled down. He helped me put a harness on, and then said, “Okay start climbing.” I said, “Ok,” and scrambled up the rock about 10 to 15 feet, then I got stuck. I couldn’t climb anymore. I wanted to come down.
“You can do it Matthew, keep going,” Jared said.
“No I can’t, I want to come down.”
“Keep going you got this.”
“No! I want to come down.”
“Fine, ok sit back in your harness and I will lower you down.”
“What??? NO!”
“Do it! It is perfectly safe, I got you.”
“NOOO! I am too scared!!”
“UGGHHH, just DO IT!”
“Uhhhh okay, but don’t drop me.”
“I am NOT going to drop you.”
He lowered me down the 15 feet, completely safe.
“I'm never taking you climbing again!” Jared glared at me.
“Fine by me!” I replied.
And he didn’t. My brother went on several climbs and never invited me, and I was perfectly okay with that. Then Jared turned 19 and left home for a couple of years. By this time I was 12 years old, 2 years older and wiser. My buddy Mikey (again different Mikey) invited me to go on a spring break trip to Yosemite with his mom. Yosemite National Park is one of the most breath taking places I have ever been, and a rock climber’s paradise. We had a blast hiking and hanging out, and guess who caught our eyes? Rock climbers, they were everywhere. Mikey and I began scrambling around on rocks, trying to be climbers. We also sat and watched the skilled climbers.
“You know Mikey, Jared left all of his climbing gear, when we get back we should use it,” I said smiling.
And that was that, from that point on we were both hooked. We would go climbing whenever we could. We would save our allowance and then go to REI and buy gear, and of course use my brother’s gear.
Also, with the help of my dad we built a 30-foot climbing wall in my backyard. We even entered into a couple of indoor rock climbing competitions, in Emeryville, CA. My first year, I had to enter the 13 and under category, I wound up taking 3rd place for my division. I would have taken first, but I failed to complete my last climb. The second year, I entered into the “recreational” category and did so well, they bumped me out of that category and into the “intermediate” category. Life was good.
My brother Jared, returned home, and to his surprise he wound up with two new climbing partners, Mikey and I. I seem to remember something about him saying, something about never going climbing with me again. Over the next few years we climbed a ton. There were some local places we could go climbing outdoors and of course we had my climbing wall. We also took several trips to Yosemite and Lake Tahoe, both places known for amazing Granite rock climbing.
Here is a video that I made years ago highlighting some of our climbing experiences from 1991 through 1995.
Now let’s get back to the story of how my life flashed before my eyes.
There I was in Yosemite National Park clinging onto the granite rock face. I took two deep breaths. I looked down again at my last piece of protection, the little nut wedged into the rock. I looked above me. I saw a bolt that was 10 feet away. I looked down again. It was 20 feet I had already gone passed my last piece of pro. This is called a run-out. Sometimes climbs will have run-outs that are super far, and other times not so much; it just depends on the route.
“Ok, I just need to go 10 more feet, then I can clip into that bolt.”
This would be the furthest 10 feet of my life. If I fall before I reached the bolt, it will be a 60-foot fall and who knows what could happen with that far of a fall. In lead climbing your fall is always at least double the length of the distance between you and the piece of protection, but many times it is further, when you add in the rope stretching, and the reaction time of the person belaying you, in this case my buddy Mikey, who I trusted completely.
I remember praying that I would make it unscathed and without falling. I stared ahead of me, the bright sunlight danced off the polished granite wall, making it difficult to locate handholds and footholds. I then squinted my eyes and slowly but surely, I found a handhold here, a foothold there. My heart was pounding so much I thought it would burst through my chest. I was doing it though; I was getting closer to my goal. With slow precise placements of each foot and each hand, deep breaths, and sheer will and a determination to not fall, I finally made it to the bolt, where I clipped in. A huge sigh of relief, the rest of the climb was a breeze. I anchored in and belayed Mikey as he came up, pulling out the protection gear as he went. You see with me at the top, if Mikey fell he would only fall a foot or two, since the rope was at the top, a lot easier then if you are the leader.
After Mikey reached the top he looked at me, “What took you so long?” I looked back at him, shook my head, and smiled. He laughed and said, “I am just joking, that was one serious run-out, you are lucky you didn’t fall.”
We would have many adventures together then I kind of got out of rock climbing, life got in the way, school, Track and Field, and video games, played some part in that too. Mikey wound up going to college in Lake Tahoe where he continued to climb. Later he moved to New Hampshire where today he is the lead route setter for three local climbing gyms.
I got back into climbing for a time up at college in Utah. There are many amazing places to climb there as well. But the coolest thing is there was an awesome climbing gym close to my apartment. I would go 2 sometimes 3 times a week, climb and train. I entered another climbing competition, the “Intermediate” division, and wound up getting third place, and winning $75 bucks worth of climbing gear. It was also when I was in the best climbing and all around shape of my life. For those of you familiar with the rating system, I managed to climb a route that was rated a 5.12c. Which is pretty darn good.
Then another climbing hiatus set in and I wouldn’t climb consistently sense. After moving to Arizona in 2006, I had the opportunity to climb a few times.
Rock climbing will always be one of those sports that will be near to my heart. Maybe I will pick it up again, because now I am lucky to go once a year.
I was excited to hear the news about Speed Climbing being included in the 2020 Olympics. Now that is a whole different ball game, I was never that interested in it but it is sure fun to watch! Here is a cool clip for your enjoyment.
Well there you have it my friends, a look at my climbing career and how my life passed before my eyes. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Do you have any crazy extreme sports stories? Comment down below and let me know.
Your Scorum Friend,
Matt aka @bayareasportsfan
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