Isaac Whatever

I fell off a 5.10c. Not right away. I clung on for a while, went off route and awkwardly clipped the first bolt. The rock was wet and cold and slippery. The feet were bad. Holds that looked promising from below offered no purchase for my hands. I was tense, my back rigid, straining for the holds.

I clawed my way up next to the first bolt and my bad feet blew and I fell a few feet and bonked my ankle bone on the rock. Nothing too bad, just sad. I asked to be lowered and stood at the foot of the route.

I could reach up, take my quickdraw, and walk away. That was the only gear on the route. Bailing wouldn't cost me anything. I thought about it.

My head was in the wrong place. I was trying to half ass this route. Taking no chances, not committing to any hard moves, keeping my feet low and my hands high, trying to cheat my way up. It wasn't happening. I took some deep breaths and slapped my hands together to try to warm them.

Something changed. I don't know why. Something drained slowly away. I felt light. I relaxed. The world went away. Falling didn't matter. I wasn't afraid.

I put my hands back on the route and climbed up it. I trusted a high right foot. I palmed a sloper. I made some good moves. I got to the anchors and nobody else wanted to do it. I cleaned the route and came down. I couldn't tell you if the route was easy or hard.

I don't know why the fear left me but I knew it might. It usually does. Not always, but usually. I don't make it go. I don't force it away. I don't even wish for it to leave. I look at the route, I check my harness and knots, I count my draws and make sure I have my ATC. I feel the change, the fear starting to recede. I try not to feel anything about it. It could come rushing back at any moment. It doesn't. I wait, without thinking about what I'm waiting for, and the fear goes away.

5.10c isn't amazing but it's pretty close to my limit in those conditions. If I had to drag the fear up the route I would only make it up once in 10 or 20 attempts. I would be erratic, frustrated, and tired. Leading close to my limit would be a horrible experience. Instead, without the fear, it's fun.