Friday, December 19, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
ABS: Rhode Island Rock Gym
The competition down in Rhode Island last weekend was pretty stiff. Mike Foley, Vasya Vorotnikov, Josh Larson, and Brian Bittner- to name a few- showed up to crush. In the end, over 150 competitors spent the day inside thrashing themselves on plastic. Good times. I finished up 3rd just behind Mike Foley, who recently finished Livin' Astro (5.14c), as well as the boulder problem, Halcyon (V11/12) in just under 20 minutes or something crazy like that. That skinny little man is mutant strong right now! And of course, as usual, the crushing monster, Vasya, took first for 100 dollars.
Check out some photos...
There was much chalk in the air. White-lungs anyone?
Vasya destroying.
The setup to a difficult arete problem.
Finishing up as little Foley and Vorotnikov wait for me to fall. Just kiddin' fellas.
Check out some photos...
There was much chalk in the air. White-lungs anyone?
Vasya destroying.
The setup to a difficult arete problem.
Finishing up as little Foley and Vorotnikov wait for me to fall. Just kiddin' fellas.
Monday, November 03, 2008
My Review of Anasazi Moccasym Rock Shoe
Originally submitted at Mountain Gear
The Anasazi Moccasym from Five Ten is the perfect second shoe for every climber, comfortable and built on the Anasazi last. These slippers have been used to onsight 5.14, but perform great on everything from boulder problems to multi-pitch sport routes.
- Their unlined leather upper will mold ...
Anasazi Moccasym: Pro Athlete Review
By Dave from Boston, MA on 11/3/2008
These shoes make the perfect companion for destroying yourself at the local gym. You'll feel like your slipping on a pair of your most comfy socks, except these socks are way stickier. Equipped with super-sensitive Stealth C4, they allow you to pull in incut holds and edges in the same way that you pull in holds with your fingers. As equally important, these shoes hold up to outdoor sessions--best on longer, more endurance oriented climbs--in the same way that they hold up to training on plastic. Best in comfort and quick-on-and-off ability.
(legalese)
Friday, October 31, 2008
Parallel Universe: Monsters of the Id
Once again the rock was about as sticky as sandpaper glued to the left cheek of your face and the trees looked like they were about to burst into flames (read: fall foliage). Mike Patz and I took our usual laps at Waimea and cruised on down to Monsters today. With just a few more routes left to do there, Parallel Universe (5.14a) is next on the list and today went well. With the help of Mike's "magic-trick" beta, I had a solid one-hang attempt at the end of the day. Hopefully, this week it will succumb to my flailing.
Mike Foley sent Livin' Astro (5.14c) a few days ago, along with Max Zolotukhin sending Supernova(5.14b). Congrats! Those guys are killin' it.
Tomorrow I'll be running around Pawtuckaway with the MetroRock climbing team. That is if I actually rouse from Halloween's debaucherous (a word?) inflictions. I will. The boulders need some pulling after a long night all alone. That statement could go in either direction. You get to pick!
Anyway, with some luck Pawtuckaway will be as friendly as it was last week when I sent Domepiece (V10), a powerful, one-move problem to a sloping lip of a top-out. Some fatty (me?) broke the only foot on it, so it may be harder now...like "V-a million" probably.
Next update, Parallel will be sent. That route is so much fun to climb on that it should almost be made illegal, but not really. Right. Ok, good talk.
Mike Foley sent Livin' Astro (5.14c) a few days ago, along with Max Zolotukhin sending Supernova(5.14b). Congrats! Those guys are killin' it.
Tomorrow I'll be running around Pawtuckaway with the MetroRock climbing team. That is if I actually rouse from Halloween's debaucherous (a word?) inflictions. I will. The boulders need some pulling after a long night all alone. That statement could go in either direction. You get to pick!
Anyway, with some luck Pawtuckaway will be as friendly as it was last week when I sent Domepiece (V10), a powerful, one-move problem to a sloping lip of a top-out. Some fatty (me?) broke the only foot on it, so it may be harder now...like "V-a million" probably.
Next update, Parallel will be sent. That route is so much fun to climb on that it should almost be made illegal, but not really. Right. Ok, good talk.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Rumney: Monsters of the Id
Put a 55 degree day together at Rumney with a slight wind and nothing but blue skies, and what do you get? Sending! Today marked the best few hours of sport climbing for me this season. I warmed up at Waimea. My first climb was Waimea (5.10) and my second climb was TechnoSurfing (5.12b), one of my favorite lines on the wall because of the massive dyno at the top that you can either choose to by-pass or launch. I always launch and its more fun every time.
After taking my laps, we headed down to Monsters to seek and destroy. I sent Dr.No (5.13d) first try of the day! I am now the third person to have used the massive, chuck beta at the top--skipping the entire midsection with one big move to a sloper and subsequent bicycle down below to establish on the last few holds.
I rested about 30 minutes and pulled onto Feeding Frenzy (5.13d) and ended up sending first go! It was just one of those days where every hold feels amazing. Thanks temps!
Below is another picture of the crux on Feeding Frenzy.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Crush-It: MetroNorth
And so a long week begins of setting for the upcoming Crush-It Series Comp at MetroRock North. You all better be there this Saturday! Details to come.
Boston Rock Gym Plastic Pulling: ABS Comp
On Saturday, the day after a project send in Pawtuckaway, I was ready my first ABS comp of the year. Some very strong and talented climbers put in a lot of effort to set, Max and Gavin that I know of at least, so the comp ended up a success all around. I ended up in 1st for the Male: Open category just ahead of Brian Bittner, while Francesca Metcalf took 1st for Female: Open, one of the MetroRock team members that I have the opportunity to help train. She is ridiculously strong at just 15 and I can't wait to see what she pulls off this year.
The best part of the comp though, other than feeling the good ole' plastic bug creep back into my veins, was catching up with Brian Bittner. Turns out we are at the same point in our lives where we are basically doing just two things: climbing and working to climb. I told him my plans about climbing in Hueco for a month before the ABS National Bouldering Championships, and he is doing the exact same kind of timed training, but in Boone. Since we are both on the same page, I am just going to head down there in January, freeze my ass off, and hopefully get a little bit stronger before Nationals so that I don't get crushed by all the freaks out West. Ha!
I also told him about my plans to go to Vietnam/Thailand/Ha Long Bay next year and turns out he was thinking the same thing and knows the guy who heads the guiding association out there! So, all and all, I am more psyched then ever to train, since Brian is the man and it should be fun to work together on the same goals. This year is definitely shaping up to be interesting--granted I don't get injured like I always do. POSITIVE THOUGHTS! NO INJURIES! Pray to the rock gods. A'men.
The best part of the comp though, other than feeling the good ole' plastic bug creep back into my veins, was catching up with Brian Bittner. Turns out we are at the same point in our lives where we are basically doing just two things: climbing and working to climb. I told him my plans about climbing in Hueco for a month before the ABS National Bouldering Championships, and he is doing the exact same kind of timed training, but in Boone. Since we are both on the same page, I am just going to head down there in January, freeze my ass off, and hopefully get a little bit stronger before Nationals so that I don't get crushed by all the freaks out West. Ha!
I also told him about my plans to go to Vietnam/Thailand/Ha Long Bay next year and turns out he was thinking the same thing and knows the guy who heads the guiding association out there! So, all and all, I am more psyched then ever to train, since Brian is the man and it should be fun to work together on the same goals. This year is definitely shaping up to be interesting--granted I don't get injured like I always do. POSITIVE THOUGHTS! NO INJURIES! Pray to the rock gods. A'men.
Pawtuckaway: Mission Fall Foliage
On Friday I ended up heading out to Pawtuckaway for some bouldering. The conditions weren't as crispy as I was hoping for, but nonetheless, it was beautiful day. The Fall climbing season out here in New England is hard to beat. After a few warm-ups, I started working the sit to Three Amigos, a solid Northeast V11 to the left of Halcyon. With just one pad and no spotters, the top out can be a bit sketchy, but since I have done the top out for what feels like a bagillion times at this point, in the dark and when it has been wet from working Halcyon, it didn't feel to bad. I ended up sending in a few goes and decided to work Confident Man (V12) just a bit further to the left, the last problem on the boulder that I have left to do. Oh and by the way, if anyone has never been to Boulder Natural, I strongly recommend coming here; the best bouldering available at Pawtuckaway in my opinion in terms of hard problems with solid holds and high top outs.
Anyway, I put in some time on Confident Manand ended up getting shut down pretty hard. Tiny crimps and big moves don't usually suit my style , but I really want this problem. Soon? We'll see.
With no time to waste, I hiked on up to Devil's Den with Vasya and Neil and did a couple of quick problems to finish off the day, Up in Smoke (V7) and Great Big Ocean (V8), a weird little problem that involves basically humping your way up the wall. Super. On the way out, I took a lap on one of my all time favorite problems in the park, and gem to many who come this way, Ride the Lightening (V6), a sloping top out problem about 15-20 feet above the pads. I fell on it for the first time in about 20 laps! I had forgotten how far you come down, but since the landing is completely flat, it's perfectly safe. I redeemed myself, and strolled back on out to the Horse Farms to hop in my truck and head home.
Anyway, I put in some time on Confident Manand ended up getting shut down pretty hard. Tiny crimps and big moves don't usually suit my style , but I really want this problem. Soon? We'll see.
With no time to waste, I hiked on up to Devil's Den with Vasya and Neil and did a couple of quick problems to finish off the day, Up in Smoke (V7) and Great Big Ocean (V8), a weird little problem that involves basically humping your way up the wall. Super. On the way out, I took a lap on one of my all time favorite problems in the park, and gem to many who come this way, Ride the Lightening (V6), a sloping top out problem about 15-20 feet above the pads. I fell on it for the first time in about 20 laps! I had forgotten how far you come down, but since the landing is completely flat, it's perfectly safe. I redeemed myself, and strolled back on out to the Horse Farms to hop in my truck and head home.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Palma de Mallorca: Deep Water Soloing
Destination: Mallorca, Spain
Objective: Deep Water Solo
Mission: Find the coolest lines and try to climb them.
The Beginning: Our first day in paradise was relaxed. The water was greenish-blue at bath temperature. Waves gently licked at the rocky coast-line below our feet. The air was around a comfortable 80 degrees and it was sunny - always sunny - without even a hint of clouds in the sky.
We monkeyed around on an easy cave section at Porto Cristo, an area littered with classic 5.12 climbing, to get a feel for deep water soloing. The top outs were probably no more than 40 feet, but still a bit intimidating since we had never done it before. Little did we know - this place would feel like a “kiddy pool” just a few days later into the trip.
Deep water soloing requires you to learn a completely new rhythm of climbing. When you fall on rope, you get another try from close to the same exact place. When you fall above the water, you rocket straight into the drink - no redo’s, no time for excuses, and no time to dog.
Gravity seems to pull on the weight of your body a bit harder when deep water soloing. You can feel the abyss below tugging at your every move because you know if you fall, it’s game over. This “one shot, one kill” invisible weight vest never really dissipated. Its perpetual presence meant that you had to have your beta and game plan dialed in to the last dot each and every try to make each attempt really count because the wetter everything becomes, the less likely you’ll send.
Working on elevating my level of focus and control every day to maximize deep water performance has definitely affected my climbing in a positive way.
The In-Between: We alternated days between sport and deep water; sometimes driving to Les Perxes for ropes and other times driving to Cova del Diablo, Porto Pi, and Porto Cristo for water. Sport climbing after a deep water day feels like climbing with velcro shoes and super-glued hands. Dry rubber and dry fingers make a huge difference. Of course, each style has its ups and downs.
Plummeting into the sea - once you get used to it - is fun! However, constantly drying yourself off, waiting for your chalk bag to dry, and hoping your shoes don’t slip is not. But in the end, climbing a route from the ground up every time until you have the all the necessary beta to finish is extremely satisfying. You put in everything you have and get just as much back in return.
It’s a process; falling, swimming back to the rock through the powerful waves, climbing up the wet rope ladder, finding a secure place to sit in the cave, avoiding bird poop everywhere, drying (but never really drying), and then starting all over again. It’s amazing! And quite addicting once you find your first success.
On rope, you can rehearse moves, figure out multiple sets of beta, lower a bit, take up a bit - fondle the rock for about as long as your belayer can take. This kind of systematic decoding of the rock is also satisfying, but clipping anchors is far different from topping out a cliff way above the sea and hoping the whole time that you don’t blow the top because a fall all the way back down into the sea would be less than comfortable.
No climber ever wants to blow the top section of a route after putting in so much work throughout the bottom, but when your deep water soloing, this feeling of impending doom is even heavier. Consequently, when you finish a route, its alleviation substitutes a feeling of exhilaration like nothing I’ve ever had. Like I said before, it’s addicting! I am having trouble focusing at work back home because of this withdrawal! I need to go back.
I got my first dose of this “high” after finishing In the Night All Cats are Black (8a). The final crux is in insecure throw from a sloper to another massive, flat sloper at a height far enough above the sea that you tend to think about it before throwing. The funny thing is—the first day I came to this cave, Cova del Diablo, I climbed up into the first cave and couldn’t move because I was so intimidated. What a woosy-pants, right?
Well, I eventually forced myself up a super-overhanging 7a, Afroman, (an amazing line) and moved on still feeling uncomfortable. As the days went by, these feelings would slowly evaporate to the point where I rarely thought about falling because my mind was fully occupied with the climbing. Watching this evolution take place and reaching this frame of mind was the most challenging part of the trip and the most rewarding.
The Final Day: The last day in Mallorca was a culminating day for me. My mental evolution made a full-circle. Physically, the climbing was difficult of course, but not nearly as mentally challenging (at least for me anyway). The first day at Cova del Diablo, I was more or less shivering with intimidation.
The last day, I was ready to fire Lostok and Two Smoking Barrels (8a+), a route that requires a full-on V10 dyno at about 50-feet above the sea. If you commit, you’ll be fine, but if you semi-commit and sort-of-kind-of hit the jug and fake hold it for a moment and quickly release (as if it were too hot to handle), you will come off the rock terribly awkward and hit the water hard.
I hit my right ear hard enough on one fall that I couldn’t hear out of it for a few moments. This impending thought is extremely motivating and makes the climb that much more fun. After a session on it the previous day with a few big falls, I knew I would only have one more shot at success because we were scheduled to fly home the following morning.
While the other guys climbed at Les Perxes in the morning, I lay on my pack, simply waiting for the afternoon to come with my last attempt - just 12 hours before our flight would leave. My time eventually came. It was around 4 o’clock in the afternoon. The winds had been particularly strong that day, so the black waves were extra-choppy.
I chucked my dry bag in and dove after it by myself, thinking about the previous day when I had been stung by a brown jelly-fish the size of a golf-ball. Don’t let the size fool you. The scars still line the back of my thigh as if a hot burner were pressed and slowly dragged along it. I climbed up into the cave, dried off, and got ready for the first attempt.
One shot, one kill. With the waves bellowing ominously below, I set off without a thought in my mind - just climbing; a focus I had never managed to attain before. I got up to the two crimps, moved my left foot awkwardly high, and popped for the two holes that looked miles away from below.
I stuck both jugs at the same time and barely swung out at all because of the altitude I had managed to acquire on the pop. It was done.
Just like that. I topped out, screamed for a moment, and ran over to my buddy, Vasya Vorotnikov, to pound a fist. One more sunset atop Diablo and one more addiction satisfied for the day - a fairy-tale ending unique to me on trip that thousands have enjoyed before.
Objective: Deep Water Solo
Mission: Find the coolest lines and try to climb them.
The Beginning: Our first day in paradise was relaxed. The water was greenish-blue at bath temperature. Waves gently licked at the rocky coast-line below our feet. The air was around a comfortable 80 degrees and it was sunny - always sunny - without even a hint of clouds in the sky.
We monkeyed around on an easy cave section at Porto Cristo, an area littered with classic 5.12 climbing, to get a feel for deep water soloing. The top outs were probably no more than 40 feet, but still a bit intimidating since we had never done it before. Little did we know - this place would feel like a “kiddy pool” just a few days later into the trip.
Deep water soloing requires you to learn a completely new rhythm of climbing. When you fall on rope, you get another try from close to the same exact place. When you fall above the water, you rocket straight into the drink - no redo’s, no time for excuses, and no time to dog.
Gravity seems to pull on the weight of your body a bit harder when deep water soloing. You can feel the abyss below tugging at your every move because you know if you fall, it’s game over. This “one shot, one kill” invisible weight vest never really dissipated. Its perpetual presence meant that you had to have your beta and game plan dialed in to the last dot each and every try to make each attempt really count because the wetter everything becomes, the less likely you’ll send.
Working on elevating my level of focus and control every day to maximize deep water performance has definitely affected my climbing in a positive way.
The In-Between: We alternated days between sport and deep water; sometimes driving to Les Perxes for ropes and other times driving to Cova del Diablo, Porto Pi, and Porto Cristo for water. Sport climbing after a deep water day feels like climbing with velcro shoes and super-glued hands. Dry rubber and dry fingers make a huge difference. Of course, each style has its ups and downs.
Plummeting into the sea - once you get used to it - is fun! However, constantly drying yourself off, waiting for your chalk bag to dry, and hoping your shoes don’t slip is not. But in the end, climbing a route from the ground up every time until you have the all the necessary beta to finish is extremely satisfying. You put in everything you have and get just as much back in return.
It’s a process; falling, swimming back to the rock through the powerful waves, climbing up the wet rope ladder, finding a secure place to sit in the cave, avoiding bird poop everywhere, drying (but never really drying), and then starting all over again. It’s amazing! And quite addicting once you find your first success.
On rope, you can rehearse moves, figure out multiple sets of beta, lower a bit, take up a bit - fondle the rock for about as long as your belayer can take. This kind of systematic decoding of the rock is also satisfying, but clipping anchors is far different from topping out a cliff way above the sea and hoping the whole time that you don’t blow the top because a fall all the way back down into the sea would be less than comfortable.
No climber ever wants to blow the top section of a route after putting in so much work throughout the bottom, but when your deep water soloing, this feeling of impending doom is even heavier. Consequently, when you finish a route, its alleviation substitutes a feeling of exhilaration like nothing I’ve ever had. Like I said before, it’s addicting! I am having trouble focusing at work back home because of this withdrawal! I need to go back.
I got my first dose of this “high” after finishing In the Night All Cats are Black (8a). The final crux is in insecure throw from a sloper to another massive, flat sloper at a height far enough above the sea that you tend to think about it before throwing. The funny thing is—the first day I came to this cave, Cova del Diablo, I climbed up into the first cave and couldn’t move because I was so intimidated. What a woosy-pants, right?
Well, I eventually forced myself up a super-overhanging 7a, Afroman, (an amazing line) and moved on still feeling uncomfortable. As the days went by, these feelings would slowly evaporate to the point where I rarely thought about falling because my mind was fully occupied with the climbing. Watching this evolution take place and reaching this frame of mind was the most challenging part of the trip and the most rewarding.
The Final Day: The last day in Mallorca was a culminating day for me. My mental evolution made a full-circle. Physically, the climbing was difficult of course, but not nearly as mentally challenging (at least for me anyway). The first day at Cova del Diablo, I was more or less shivering with intimidation.
The last day, I was ready to fire Lostok and Two Smoking Barrels (8a+), a route that requires a full-on V10 dyno at about 50-feet above the sea. If you commit, you’ll be fine, but if you semi-commit and sort-of-kind-of hit the jug and fake hold it for a moment and quickly release (as if it were too hot to handle), you will come off the rock terribly awkward and hit the water hard.
I hit my right ear hard enough on one fall that I couldn’t hear out of it for a few moments. This impending thought is extremely motivating and makes the climb that much more fun. After a session on it the previous day with a few big falls, I knew I would only have one more shot at success because we were scheduled to fly home the following morning.
While the other guys climbed at Les Perxes in the morning, I lay on my pack, simply waiting for the afternoon to come with my last attempt - just 12 hours before our flight would leave. My time eventually came. It was around 4 o’clock in the afternoon. The winds had been particularly strong that day, so the black waves were extra-choppy.
I chucked my dry bag in and dove after it by myself, thinking about the previous day when I had been stung by a brown jelly-fish the size of a golf-ball. Don’t let the size fool you. The scars still line the back of my thigh as if a hot burner were pressed and slowly dragged along it. I climbed up into the cave, dried off, and got ready for the first attempt.
One shot, one kill. With the waves bellowing ominously below, I set off without a thought in my mind - just climbing; a focus I had never managed to attain before. I got up to the two crimps, moved my left foot awkwardly high, and popped for the two holes that looked miles away from below.
I stuck both jugs at the same time and barely swung out at all because of the altitude I had managed to acquire on the pop. It was done.
Just like that. I topped out, screamed for a moment, and ran over to my buddy, Vasya Vorotnikov, to pound a fist. One more sunset atop Diablo and one more addiction satisfied for the day - a fairy-tale ending unique to me on trip that thousands have enjoyed before.
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
2008 Gravity Brawl
Stepping into the 2008 Gravity Brawl, held at the New Jersey Rock Gym, was like setting foot on another freaking planet. The place was an absolute madhouse.
Caption: Rob D'Anastasio on Men's Final Number 4 (Click to Enlarge)
After all these years as a competitor, I still look around utterly dumbfounded like a tourist strolling through Time Square for the first time. Ridiculously strong rock ninjas campus from one terrible sloping pinch to the next on heinously steep walls as if they were out for a gosh darn afternoon stroll. What the crap? Techno-rap beats rivet the inside of my rib cage while pink and blue shades of light dance off the plastic-pocadotted walls like nothing you have ever seen before. Should I take out my light stick and rave? Hundreds of climbers and enthusiasts alike, gathering like a cult hell-bent on getting their fix of electrifying adrenaline, flock from all corners of the country for the chance to rage into the wee hours of the night as freaks of the industry battle for the top spot. What in the blazers is going on here?
For one, there is no one else in the world right now putting on a climbing show the way NEC2 has and continues to do. People that don’t even know anything about climbing can come to these competitions and have fun screaming their blocks off like they would at any other sporting event. In fact, I literally woke up the next morning thinking that I might catch some clips of Matt Bosley, top male finisher, or Paige Classenn, top female finisher, tearing it up on an ESPN highlight reel. Can you imagine that? ESPN coverage. ABC live broadcasting.
Unbelievably, NEC2 is able to top itself each year, whether it be new, innovative climbing styles or just plain running format. These American-style comp climbing events are branding the way for the future of competitive climbing across the globe. Simply put: there is no telling where the Bouldering Championships will end up in the future.
Gravity Brawl 2015: Pro-climbers are flown out to a beach side venue in Honolulu, Hawaii. The comp is sponsored by Subaru, Coors Lite, and Visa. Coverage is made global on six different channels. Thousands of spectators attend and competitors are paid on par with other professional athletes.
A dream? Maybe so, but for the amount of effort, talent, and commitment these athletes and organizers expend each year, there is no reason why these fantasies should not come to fruition.
Please go to boulderingcomps.com to see pictures, video, and results. You will be amazed at what competition climbing has evolved into. Seriously. Check it out.
Caption: Rob D'Anastasio on Men's Final Number 4 (Click to Enlarge)After all these years as a competitor, I still look around utterly dumbfounded like a tourist strolling through Time Square for the first time. Ridiculously strong rock ninjas campus from one terrible sloping pinch to the next on heinously steep walls as if they were out for a gosh darn afternoon stroll. What the crap? Techno-rap beats rivet the inside of my rib cage while pink and blue shades of light dance off the plastic-pocadotted walls like nothing you have ever seen before. Should I take out my light stick and rave? Hundreds of climbers and enthusiasts alike, gathering like a cult hell-bent on getting their fix of electrifying adrenaline, flock from all corners of the country for the chance to rage into the wee hours of the night as freaks of the industry battle for the top spot. What in the blazers is going on here?
For one, there is no one else in the world right now putting on a climbing show the way NEC2 has and continues to do. People that don’t even know anything about climbing can come to these competitions and have fun screaming their blocks off like they would at any other sporting event. In fact, I literally woke up the next morning thinking that I might catch some clips of Matt Bosley, top male finisher, or Paige Classenn, top female finisher, tearing it up on an ESPN highlight reel. Can you imagine that? ESPN coverage. ABC live broadcasting.
Unbelievably, NEC2 is able to top itself each year, whether it be new, innovative climbing styles or just plain running format. These American-style comp climbing events are branding the way for the future of competitive climbing across the globe. Simply put: there is no telling where the Bouldering Championships will end up in the future.
Gravity Brawl 2015: Pro-climbers are flown out to a beach side venue in Honolulu, Hawaii. The comp is sponsored by Subaru, Coors Lite, and Visa. Coverage is made global on six different channels. Thousands of spectators attend and competitors are paid on par with other professional athletes.
A dream? Maybe so, but for the amount of effort, talent, and commitment these athletes and organizers expend each year, there is no reason why these fantasies should not come to fruition.
Please go to boulderingcomps.com to see pictures, video, and results. You will be amazed at what competition climbing has evolved into. Seriously. Check it out.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Beyond the Caption and The Insider with Tim Kemple
Beyond the Caption
He has photographed and climbed with the best climbers in the world at just about every desired climbing location in the world. From the rickety wooden walls of the Dover climbing gym that he built, to the towering faces of Cathedral and Whitehorse, all the way to the forefront of climbing media, he has seen and learned a lot about our sport.
The first time I met him years ago was at Rumney. He seemed calm, controlled, and calculated. Words were only spoken when necessary and the occasional smile was about as frequent as me sending V14. Later, I would learn that his seemingly serious facade was mostly false due to his intermittently infectious humor. He's tricky.
Much later that day he called me for a 2AM, Dover session (Yes, two o'clock in the morning). I arrived at the designated hole-in-the wall gym to find him and Justin Bourque, a 6-foot-3 brick house, throwing disgustingly massive moves off terrible pinches on a 45-degree plywood wall.
I was intimidated.
One light flickered in the back of the cave and 50 cent blasted from surround sound speakers. This was going to be a training session from hell.
"What took you so long man?" asked Tim with his usual dead-seriousness.
We started climbing and his energy propelled the three of us to start pulling harder than ever.
"Get psyched! GGGGGETTT PSSSSSSYCHEDDDDD!" he shouted in one of my ears while my faced turned purple as I pulled on some stupid-hard pinch problem, which I later learned to be the classic, Dover climbing style. Powerful. Big. And dynamic.
We climbed hard, exhausting ourselves deep into the cold night that lingered outside the thin, gym walls just waiting to attack us upon exit. That was the night I learned what it meant to try hard. Really, really hard.
Six hours later, the morning after the morning session, I found Tim roping up at Cathedral to send some new, sketchy death pitch. Motivation and commitment at its finest.
Today, he is a climbing media juggernaut, maintaining an extensive influence on the flow of climbing advertisements, photography, film, and general marketing direction. What's more, is that he continues to crush. In fact, the day he shot me at Pawtuckaway for some footage of a few classics, he asked me to hop on Blow (V10) for a quick warm-up. You serious broski? The problem consists of one dyno from two, credit card thin crimps to a jug.
"You got that wired? Do it," Tim suggested as if it would be like walking up a flight of stairs.
"Um. No. Not at all."
Moments later, Tim asked me for my shoes and without a word or warm-up, he floated the dyno. He had tried it a bit earlier that week, but come on. That's gross.
(Side note: If you want to refine your technique, or more specifically learn to use your feet, climb with Tim for three minutes. Done.)
In either case, many of you only know him through photo captions or horror stories about some X-rated pitch up in Northern New Hampshire. Here is chance to take a closer look inside the head of a guy who has made it to the avant-garde of climbing media with cutting edge photography and a futuristic, progressive-type vision. Amen and Go Pats.
The Insider
When and where did you start to realize that climbing was going to be a major part of your life, if not all of it?
The biggest turning point was in High School when I quite baseball. I kicked ass at it and could have got a scholarship to go to college with it, but it was taking away from my climbing time. Even today, a bit more mature, I struggle doing anything less than %100. Back then, it was all or nothing for sure.
Even though you have been all over the world, would you say you still have a strong, nostalgic connection to where it all started? Why?
Three words: October in New England.
New England has the rock; its got the scene, but it seems like everything else (largely the weather, bugs, and leaves) are at there best in October.
Did you always want to be a professional photographer, or did your passion for climbing and creative ideas for marketing the sport sort of evolve together?
It’s definitely evolved over time. I used to have troubles with people calling me a pro photographer. I was like “No, I’m a climber that takes pictures”. As the photography grew, I wanted to help my friends (the pro climbers) the best I could and a desire to see the industry evolve stemmed from that.
With years of perspective and experience under the ole’ belt, what would you pass on to the youngsters of this generation about climbing?
Like any sport, there is always going to be someone stronger than you somewhere in the world. That’s not what you should strive for. So leave your mark by giving back to the sport, returning smiles at the crag, and offering a belay to those that need it. You’ll get further in the sport and in life that way anyhow.
Where would you like the sport of climbing to be in the next 10 years?
The sport itself won’t change much in 10 years. We are seeing diminishing returns training wise to a degree right now. Hopefully, the industry will have evolved to the point where ten-year-old kids can dream about one day making a legitimate living off the sport if they are good enough.
How do you think climbing has changed from when you first started in 1993 to today?
Climbing wise the physical limits of strength are finally maxing out. Pure difficulty is giving way to style of ascent as a more significant statistic, so to speak, in the way climbers view accomplishments.
Industry wise all those companies that started out and saw growth in the 1980's are looking for anyway they can to be considered "cool" again, like they were in 1993.
Do you think it is possible to have a Sean White of climbing? Basically, what is it going to take to have massive, corporate sponsors like Nike or Visa start handing out millions to someone like Mr. Woods?
Two things:
1) Time – As an industry the climbing world is 20 years behind skate and snow sports. So, give it time.
2) Competition – Like it or not, competition is the one thing that climbing has that every human understands. Now if you can deliver competition in an understandable format, and with consequences, like all the other action sports, then you can sell the lifestyle. And if you can sell the lifestyle, then climbing becomes the story you sell mainstream, and mainstream is the checkbook that hands out the millions of dollars.
Check out his work at kemplemedia.com. His website is almost as good as my blog...
He has photographed and climbed with the best climbers in the world at just about every desired climbing location in the world. From the rickety wooden walls of the Dover climbing gym that he built, to the towering faces of Cathedral and Whitehorse, all the way to the forefront of climbing media, he has seen and learned a lot about our sport.
The first time I met him years ago was at Rumney. He seemed calm, controlled, and calculated. Words were only spoken when necessary and the occasional smile was about as frequent as me sending V14. Later, I would learn that his seemingly serious facade was mostly false due to his intermittently infectious humor. He's tricky.
Much later that day he called me for a 2AM, Dover session (Yes, two o'clock in the morning). I arrived at the designated hole-in-the wall gym to find him and Justin Bourque, a 6-foot-3 brick house, throwing disgustingly massive moves off terrible pinches on a 45-degree plywood wall.
I was intimidated.
One light flickered in the back of the cave and 50 cent blasted from surround sound speakers. This was going to be a training session from hell.
"What took you so long man?" asked Tim with his usual dead-seriousness.
We started climbing and his energy propelled the three of us to start pulling harder than ever.
"Get psyched! GGGGGETTT PSSSSSSYCHEDDDDD!" he shouted in one of my ears while my faced turned purple as I pulled on some stupid-hard pinch problem, which I later learned to be the classic, Dover climbing style. Powerful. Big. And dynamic.
We climbed hard, exhausting ourselves deep into the cold night that lingered outside the thin, gym walls just waiting to attack us upon exit. That was the night I learned what it meant to try hard. Really, really hard.
Six hours later, the morning after the morning session, I found Tim roping up at Cathedral to send some new, sketchy death pitch. Motivation and commitment at its finest.
Today, he is a climbing media juggernaut, maintaining an extensive influence on the flow of climbing advertisements, photography, film, and general marketing direction. What's more, is that he continues to crush. In fact, the day he shot me at Pawtuckaway for some footage of a few classics, he asked me to hop on Blow (V10) for a quick warm-up. You serious broski? The problem consists of one dyno from two, credit card thin crimps to a jug.
"You got that wired? Do it," Tim suggested as if it would be like walking up a flight of stairs.
"Um. No. Not at all."
Moments later, Tim asked me for my shoes and without a word or warm-up, he floated the dyno. He had tried it a bit earlier that week, but come on. That's gross.
(Side note: If you want to refine your technique, or more specifically learn to use your feet, climb with Tim for three minutes. Done.)
In either case, many of you only know him through photo captions or horror stories about some X-rated pitch up in Northern New Hampshire. Here is chance to take a closer look inside the head of a guy who has made it to the avant-garde of climbing media with cutting edge photography and a futuristic, progressive-type vision. Amen and Go Pats.
The Insider
When and where did you start to realize that climbing was going to be a major part of your life, if not all of it?
The biggest turning point was in High School when I quite baseball. I kicked ass at it and could have got a scholarship to go to college with it, but it was taking away from my climbing time. Even today, a bit more mature, I struggle doing anything less than %100. Back then, it was all or nothing for sure.
Even though you have been all over the world, would you say you still have a strong, nostalgic connection to where it all started? Why?
Three words: October in New England.
New England has the rock; its got the scene, but it seems like everything else (largely the weather, bugs, and leaves) are at there best in October.
Did you always want to be a professional photographer, or did your passion for climbing and creative ideas for marketing the sport sort of evolve together?
It’s definitely evolved over time. I used to have troubles with people calling me a pro photographer. I was like “No, I’m a climber that takes pictures”. As the photography grew, I wanted to help my friends (the pro climbers) the best I could and a desire to see the industry evolve stemmed from that.
With years of perspective and experience under the ole’ belt, what would you pass on to the youngsters of this generation about climbing?
Like any sport, there is always going to be someone stronger than you somewhere in the world. That’s not what you should strive for. So leave your mark by giving back to the sport, returning smiles at the crag, and offering a belay to those that need it. You’ll get further in the sport and in life that way anyhow.
Where would you like the sport of climbing to be in the next 10 years?
The sport itself won’t change much in 10 years. We are seeing diminishing returns training wise to a degree right now. Hopefully, the industry will have evolved to the point where ten-year-old kids can dream about one day making a legitimate living off the sport if they are good enough.
How do you think climbing has changed from when you first started in 1993 to today?
Climbing wise the physical limits of strength are finally maxing out. Pure difficulty is giving way to style of ascent as a more significant statistic, so to speak, in the way climbers view accomplishments.
Industry wise all those companies that started out and saw growth in the 1980's are looking for anyway they can to be considered "cool" again, like they were in 1993.
Do you think it is possible to have a Sean White of climbing? Basically, what is it going to take to have massive, corporate sponsors like Nike or Visa start handing out millions to someone like Mr. Woods?
Two things:
1) Time – As an industry the climbing world is 20 years behind skate and snow sports. So, give it time.
2) Competition – Like it or not, competition is the one thing that climbing has that every human understands. Now if you can deliver competition in an understandable format, and with consequences, like all the other action sports, then you can sell the lifestyle. And if you can sell the lifestyle, then climbing becomes the story you sell mainstream, and mainstream is the checkbook that hands out the millions of dollars.
Check out his work at kemplemedia.com. His website is almost as good as my blog...
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