I’ve been hanging off this bolt for what seems like an eternity. Upward motion has continuously been denied. The sweat is beading off my forehead and turning the chalk on my hands into mud. The basalt rock feels like ice when I try to grip it. I look at the wall in front of me, hoping that maybe there will be an epiphany and the solution to the puzzle that has been eluding me will suddenly hit me in the face.
This climb has already claimed one victim today. As KB was making her ascent of our first route, Shelby and Super D were putting up what we were hoping would be our next climb. As I am belaying KB back down from here climb, I can hear the beta around the lip from where I am and hear the frustrated cursing that comes from a reachy bitch of a climb. Then the cursing turned into screams and I see Super D catch Shelby as he comes off the wall, screaming that his shoulder is out.
I quickly finish belaying KB and then watch as Super D rotates and rocks Shelby’s shoulder back into place. Once it pops back in, his face turns to one of instant relief. The screaming stops.
I looked up at the wall. It looks to have good pockets all the way up, an elusion as once on the rock you realize that each pocket is spaced just out of reach. Once you get up to a good hand hold, there is absolutely no where for your feet. The sticky rubber on our climbing shoes doesn’t seem to stick to the rock at all.
Super D heads up and is able to put the route up. Then KB top ropes the thing and I am to finish and clean the gear back off the bolts.
I’ve already come off the rock several times falling back down to the protection below me. I know that I have to make this next move and then I should be good. I get myself up on the wall and find myself standing with both feet on the same tiny lip. My balance is completely off. I have to lean way back to keep my hands hooked to the crack. The bolt is at eye level. All I have to do is find a way to clip the rope but if I move one hand off the wall I will fall. I try to adjust my feet to improve my balance.
I don’t remember falling. The only thing I can recall is watching as my foot catches between the bolt below me and the rope. My foot cocks to the side putting my ankle at a 90 degree angle. There is no pain but my first thought is my ankle is broken.
I come to rest a few feet below the bolt that caught my foot. There is no immediate pain. I try to place my foot on the wall and pain shoots up my leg. I try again, same result. As I’m sitting there the sweat on my legs begins to trickle into the rope burn that is now stinging.
I am lowered down. Beaten, broken and all by a fucking 5.10a.
Yup, that’s how we roll here at the Mooseknuckler Climbing Alliance. We lose two climbers in about an hour on a 5.10. Like I’ve said, we are amazingly good at being mediocre…
P. L. and R.