So, I find that I agree with Tom Hanson's "no fall" style of climbing that he talked about in the "Crusty Quotes" thread. Unlike Tom, I have fallen, but I approach every climb with the intent of not falling. Once in a while I "project" something and am forced to hang on the rope (like on Mighty Thor at the Garden a few weeks back).

That got me thinking about what I enjoy most about climbing and I've come to the conclusion that it's the view. I love to get to the top. I'll even climb some pretty junky routes if the payoff is big enough. I like to pause in the middle of a route just to appreciate where I am. If you check my profile you'll see that I climb everything from mid-grades to 11's. A 5.6 with a great view payoff is just as enjoyable for me as an 11 that I get to the top of all pumped out.

I'm betting that there are others like me. Please feel free to share your thoughts and maybe even pictures from the top. My favorite recent view was when we topped out on New Era as the sun set. We had 360 sunset and city lights (unfortunately no good pictures - I include the following picture just to give you a feel).



And, if you climb mainly to push the grade, I'd be interested in hearing from you, too. What inspires you?

Cheers,
Erik

The view from the top of New Era is exceptional. I would agree the pure feeling of accomplishment(which a view adds too) is part of what drives my love of climbing. But I also love the feeling of topping out a tough move I wasn't sure I could do. Looking for the next cling while perched a precarious 100 feet off the ground with the last piece of protection 15 feet below me is an awesome way to LIVE. maybe I'm just a masochist...

Words can't describe how I feel when I finally reach the top. But it is everything, it seems like some crazy rubics cube puzzle finally comes together and the heavens open up and life makes sense. I'd say that I survive day to day so that I can be ALIVE on the rock. The experience I've had sometimes after stretching myself physically, mentally, and emotionally on a tough climb just seems to be almost supernatural.

I love the view especially when climbing mountains and you can survey miles and miles and miles in all directions, but I have to admit, I love pushing myself, I love the idea of more and more and harder and harder, I like the pain, I dont want to step on the top and be like yea I feel great, I want to climb something so rad that I make it to the top and puke. I want to project something that is impossible, and then all the sudden possible. I want to take things to the next level when everyone else says your nutz there are no more levels.

I suck right now, but I will get better, and I will push myself to new levels!!! That to me is what its about, but still so much more.

The view is definitely a payoff, especially on a long, all-day climb like Solar Slab at Red Rock:

In addition to the views, I love the exposure - especially on alpine routes. (though it sometimes scares the bejesus out of me...)

Warning, this is going to go in all sorts of rambling directions and won't make any sense, read on if you're drunk.

First off, I climb for the kinesthetics of it. Sure there are beautiful routes out there but that's got nothing on the beauty of the moves on a route. Fortunately, a pretty route tends to climb pretty, at least it often does. So #1, Kinesthetic aesthetics, if such a term exists.

Then there is the mental aspect of climbing, to me it's threefold, one not more important than the other.
-1. Mind body awareness; climb or clip, how much is left, can I continue? Should I continue? I'm sure everyone reading this is familiar with that internal dialogue. It might be the most honest you can be with yourself, especially in solo or otherwise serious situations.

-2. Gear, love it or hate it, gear is part of this sport. The reason I group it under mental is that I don't mean fondling gear at climbing shop, I mean figuring out what works, safely, on the fly, through the pump, through ever changing terrain. Maybe I'm elitist but it's also why sport routes feel less gratifying to me.

-3. Only what is before you, nothing else. This is the flow state long referred to as the "runners high". It's also a primary topic of Buddhism and Bushido. The ability to be singularly focused on the task before you. The true zen masters could bring this about through meditation, I need to be 30 feet above an ice screw or so pumped I'm about to drop my RP's or something. I'm no Zen master, so that I have an outlet to experience the greatest peace and calm in the hairiest situations is really a priviledge, IMO.

I haven't even mentioned the friends yet. I wouldn't climb if it weren't for the people I climb with. Truly, the greatest days of my life have been spent among climbers. Not to sugarcoat it.


To answer the question (though no-one asked) of "Do you climb for numbers?" I honestly answer no. I do however get a lot of fulfillment out of overcoming that which I cannot do. Even if it takes years. I sent several cracks this year that recently (last year or the year before) I couldn't pull off the ground. Numbers or not, that's pretty damn satisfying.

Erik, I agree with you about the summit. Would you say though that the magic you experience looking at the view from the top is not just simply the view but a culmination of everything that lies beneath you on your path to the summit?

So yeah, I climb because I enjoy it.

This is the point where people start posting (Kateri Kirra or Gig probably, but maybe Shawn... hiccup) pictures of shirtless climbers and the thread goes down the tube.

John, excellently articulated!

And you're right. It is about all those things... and I do enjoy improving (most often measured by grade), and I love gear - trad or sport, and I get a rush from leading (just got home from leading a 10d (is it bragging if I tell you that it was a redpoint on-sight? ;) )) and it all ends with the rush of that final pull to freedom.

Thanks everyone for your contributions so far.

Katari and JL... love those pictures! Now THAT's what I'm talking about.

Oh, and I'm no zen master, but I understand what you mean - getting in the zone. I often have to remind myself to stop and breath in the wider world. It's like, "Hey, I'm 200ft off the deck. I should take a second to enjoy this." And then it all goes away again and there's only the next sequence of moves.

post edit: I'm still unpacking your post, John. I forgot to mention the friends and that I whole heartedly agree with you. I hope for two things in a partner - safety and friendship.

John, you speak for us all. The only thing I'd add is that the cathartic experience of overcoming what I never thought I could do completely frees me, for a moment, from the troubles of my world.

John, that may be the most insightful and complete explanation of climbing's appeal I've read.

Tony, couple things: 1) At least I'm in good company; 2) But you've given me performance anxiety and now I can't get the post up; and 3) (I'm rusty on my physics, but) Isn't that the uncertainty principle...by observing and commenting on phenomena, you altered their course?

john. well put.

I must add that the arena in which our sport takes place is the main attraction that draws me in.
Climbing takes one to some of nature’s most magnificent settings.
I must state here that I exclude rock gyms from what I am describing here.
I have never, and will never, take to climbing plastic in a rock gym.
The natural setting is for me such a big part of the sport that I find rock gyms almost as dismal and annoying as casinos. Both have an anxious sense of desperation hanging over them and both of them seem to me to be unaesthetic, and just plain gross.
Ok, my disdain for rock gyms is getting me off topic.
Nothing beats solving a problem and putting together a sequence by convergence/synchronization of mind, body and spirit in the beauty of the magnificent cathedrals of the natural world.

Shoot Tom, you keep us off balance. We never know if you'll bring your irreverent game, or your disarmingly thoughtful game. Rock on.

You gentlemen miss the point. The views in the gym are spectacular. See circa 4 posts above or the Shirtless Thread.

On a more serious note, what do you think the weight room looks like relative to the football field? If you mock the climbing gym, you mock the concept of training to improve climbing. It's a respectable position, but necessarily a commanding one.

Tony, why are you up at 1:43 in the morning?

uuuppp.. Here we go..!

location - location & it's all about the view :)~

don't have a photo (need to be scanned) -but one of the best views I recall was top of Castleton with a view of the Rectory & Castle Vlly. Wished I could have camped-out up there.. *sigh*

I've given this very topic some amount of thought lately in my own internal dialogues; skip if you don't feel like reading way too many words.

The other day, as I was contemplating the move I was about to make, undoubtedly the crux of the route with the last protection several feet below me, I found myself thinking, "why am I here? Why am I doing this? Why am I potentially risking it all?"

I forced myself to stop thinking about these, figured out the move, committed to it, scared myself and executed successfully. The rest of the climb went smoothly, and once I was back on terra firma, I allowed myself to continue the line of questioning I'd embarked on.

Why am I here?
Because I am.
Why am I doing this?
Because I can.
Why am I taking this (unnecessary as viewed by some non-climber friends) risk?
This is my life, and I'd rather be alive than merely survive.

The metaphors I could draw to climbing and life are innumerous. The climb is a journey: it has problems, solutions, rests, risks, reaches, strains, tensions and releases, approaches and retreats; all of the components of a great journey. Life too is a journey, and I symbolize my life with a climb, and a climb with my life.

It's important to stop and appreciate the view sometimes. Reaching the summit, and perceiving the deadly-beautiful exposure beneath is both humbling and enthralling. The magnificent beauty of our world sculpted by weather, water and life over time is truly something to behold. We humans are small beings, but just to be able to contemplate our very existence is huge! It is these moments of exposure and reflection that allows me to realize that no matter how small we really are (in comparison to the rock, world, universe, etc.) life is never insignificant.

I too, agree with the "don't ever fall" style of climbing. Not that I haven't fallen, but I always do everything I can to avoid falling; and on the sharp end at least, I don't fall often. I've been thinking about this too: I need to fall more. I need to learn to develop more trust in the rope, protection and belay. But I don't want to fall, and I can't help but wonder if this is a mental barrier that holds me back.

Nevertheless, I still see my skills improving. I try not to chase numbers, but they are a means of measuring progress. I just led a 10a onsight the other day (somewhat scary) and a different 10a a week before that (solid, redpoint after top-rope.) For some, this is an easy grade to climb, but it was not too long ago that I would've been flailing on it on top-rope. I don't feel comfortable with 10s yet, but they're not out of reach, and measuring my progress in that sense is a reward in of itself.


Reflecting on all of this now, the phrase "sport-climbing is neither" comes to mind. It really isn't. Perhaps this is not how the phrase was intended to be interpreted, but rock-climbing is not merely a sport for me, but a very symbolic existential & spiritual experience. Climbing IS life! The closest moments to zen I've ever experienced, I've experienced while climbing or riding my motorcycle; where everything fades away but the task immediately at hand. I love that level of focus, and I'm working on applying that level of focus to other aspects of my life (learning/education/studies, work, etc.)

And of course, the friendships that I have, and am continuing to develop within the climbing community are priceless. Some of the most intelligent, passionate, intense people I've ever met have been climbers; I wouldn't trade these friendships for anything.

Climbing IS life! So climb on.

Wow, nice abs, Shawn. You must work out a lot!

Location is a big part of it for me, too. Clearly, view and location go together. I enjoy landscape photography and I've always had the theory that great landscapes don't come to you, you have to go to them. Deep, huh?