Try Hard

Lunch break part way up Moonlight Buttress

Working as a carpenter I swing a hammer all day, move lumber, run heavy equipment, and generally abuse my body. On a big wall climb, I mangle my hands and feet, get roasted by the sun, and generally work real hard against gravity. My body gets wrecked in either scenario. At the end of the day, however, the way I feel about myself is very different. After a long day building a roof, I can barely bring myself to take a shower, eat dinner, and watch an episode of Parks and Recreation before going to bed. After a full day of climbing at my limit, I feel energized, and can't wait to plan my next trip. The source of my energy is not a sum of calories consumed and level of fitness. The ability to keep going has more to do with an energy that is outside the physical body. Tapping into this wellspring allows us to push beyond fatigue and redefine our limits. There is an emotional vessel that holds more power than we can understand. When I am engaged in the things I love, my physical energy expands to meet new demands.

My favorite cartoon is a Japanese series called Dragon Ball Z. The story line deals with the idea of finding hidden energy as the heroes fight to save Planet Earth from evil forces. Now this analogy may seem like a stretch, but bear with me. The main character Goku, is a pure hearted warrior who always manages to overcome impossible odds to defeat aliens, cyborgs, and magic creatures for the sake of the people he loves. What makes Goku special (besides having a tail and being able to transform into a giant ape) is that every time he is beaten to within an inch of his life, he thinks of his wife, child, friends, and family and his power grows. Obviously, this is a cartoon, and not a source of great spiritual insight. However, the message of personal growth, plays off an archetype that resonates with any quest to overcome impossible odds. When we are emotionally engaged in a challenge and go beyond what we thought was possible, our power grows to meet the demands.

150ft finger crack on Moonlight Buttress

The true power of ultra-marathon runners, explorers, climbers, and cartoon warriors is rooted in the belief that their goal is worth fighting for. It is the motivation to try hard, to train, to take risk, and to accept the possibility of failure. On my 29th birthday I was asked what my goals for the year were. Without hesitation, I said "I want to climb El Capitan, free climb Moonlight Buttress, and send a 5.13." These are all climbing goals. Saving for a home, having kids, or traveling to Mongolia didn't make the list this year. It is not that I don't want other things, but it is not where my heart is. If I try to pursue goals that I am not passionate about, it will simply drain my energy. I thought long and hard about enrolling in a graduate school program, but if it kept me from climbing 1,000 foot sandstone walls, I would not have the drive to be successful right now.

Last fall, I completed the first item on my list, and overcame significant challenges to climb El Capitan in Yosemite National Park. This winter, I left Bellingham and moved back to Utah to live and work near Zion National Park, where I am setting my sights on the second goal. To free climb (climbing with a rope to arrest a fall, using only my hands and feet to move up) the Moonlight Buttress would be the most difficult climb I have ever done. It is a special climb, because when I first moved to Zion it was the route that inspired me to begin big wall climbing. That year, Alex Honnold free-soloed Moonlight buttress in 1 hour and 23 minutes (climbing without a rope, using only his hands and feet to move up). In comparison, I aid climbed the route during my second season in about 15 hours (using equipment and rope ladders to move up the route). Now, 6 years later Moonlight Buttress is a benchmark to measure my progress. This climb pushes me to be stronger and more fearless than I ever thought possible.

High point on day 3, 2/3 of the way to the top

This project has consumed a great deal of my thought time, and excites me in a way that borders on obsessive. I have spent three days in the past two weeks on Moonlight Buttress trying to unlock the sequences and progressing slowly up the wall. On each attempt I reach a high point, fatigued, bloodied, and outclassed, and decide to go back down to the ground. On the one hand it feels like a defeat, but on the other it is exciting to see an opportunity to grow stronger. It wouldn't be nearly as gratifying if I simply went up, sent the route, and ticked it off my list. The way climbing El Capitan expanded my limits of durability, this climb is training my endurance and ability to overcome fear. There is a very real possibility that I may not complete this climb in good style. I willingly take that risk, because regardless of the outcome, my vessel of energy is growing, it is overflowing, and fueling me to try harder.