the Little Dragon

There is nothing like a first ascent to make you feel alive. You face death. You face fear. You spin out. You suffer. You are tested. And then, you feel. Immense gratitude. Pure Joy. Highest acheivemnt. Nested in the rock and sunlight.

There is a way that the climb, the rock, the shape knows just what I need. It won’t let me hide. It knows me better than I know myself. It makes me face what I need to transform in that time. In that moment. In my life.

This climb kicked by butt. It may have been one of the hardest climbs I have ever put up. A theme for this last season. Requiring all of me. Brute force. Technical dancing. Acrobatic finishes.

When I took @restlesswanderlust1 , to the route the first time I literally said “lets do a practice FA, this one is a little guy and will be good for you to learn on”. I quickly ate my words. It took me 4 hours to put it up, with failures. Bruises. Risky gear placements. A Botched bolt. She then followed it, almost taking as long to clean it! I guess we both needed an ass kicking, here and possibly in life!

On our next trip, we left motivated to come back and do it. I would love to say I went back and got on it and climbed it beautifully the first time, but that would be a lie. It took me days to find the calm and technique…with her patience and support. As well as a dedicated wrangling of my very active nervous system that was determined to sabotage me with fear.

When I sent it, I think it was part skill. Part brute force. Part calm. And, part miracle. And, a large% her patience and awe.

I called the climb Little Dragon. Because it was fierce and little. And, looked a little like a dragon. Also, in an homage to my truck, named Little Dragon, who saved my dog and I’s life last year, by taking the brunt of our flip and giving us a few more precious days together before my pup got her wings too.