An ode to the community, and a trip to China.

“He seems to be here quite a bit. I think it would be worth it.”

We’d later become good friends, though I liked “Luke from the Chinook desk” already; he was supporting my father’s decision of buying me a year long membership to the gym. Two and a half years have whizzed by since that fateful transaction. Luke may be prophetic, or perhaps just a good employee but indeed, it was certainly worth it. The blur since that fateful day has been one of finding a perpetually growing tribe and experiencing life with them through our art: Climbing (though my “art” is often rather reminiscent of a flightless and dying bird). Two and a half of years of climbing, and two and a half years largely comprised of immense joy. The people that make up the Calgary Climbing Centre experience have not only shown me climbing as a vehicle to many more important things, but have helped, and continue to help me on my path.

The folks that took me outside, told me to squeeze my core, and caught idiotic gear ripping falls are the reason that I write this in a train station in Lijiang, China, fresh off a month of climbing magnificent sandstone in the eastern foothills of the Himalaya. THE HIMALAYA!!!!!!!! I still cannot believe it is a dream manifested.

An underwhelming mountain whose sheer existence has been far too romanticized to ever be a let down. Photo: Kyle Martino.

Kyle Martino and I’s adventure in China is the culmination of the effect of friendship. The space under the wings of good people is chalked with teaching moments, inspiration to be better, and the tools to spread wings of your own. This is what I have found, almost entirely thanks to the CCC community. Bear with me, for this tangent style of writing is the only way I know how to express both the idea that it takes a village, and the ideas that the village has bestowed upon me.

A simple scroll through the CCC blog reveals an inspiring fact: Climbing adventures, and adventures of any sort, are incredibly accessible. Time and money can be massive constraints of course, but guidance and support are available in spades within the community. A passive thought recollects memory after memory of a helping hand. If the thought were explored it would dominate this already spiralling piece. Though I fear sounding holier-than-thou, it is imperative we all understand that our dreams do not have to remain dreams. If that gumby with the pink shirt and weird hair that you hear power screaming on the Rocky moonboard WAY TOO OFTEN can do it, then you probably can too. This blog itself reveals that our adventure is not the exception in the community, BUT THE RULE! Many wonderful people are going for it, and it is an honour to share stories with them and try to emulate their climbing prowess. Of course, I cannot forget the privilege I posses of being able to choose to scrape by and devote my life to the joy of climbing, but it must be said that dreams do not have to be dreams. If you can and you want too, then for what it is worth, I think you should. Anyways, we went to China, and it was a fantastic adventure.

Kyle Martino, awestruck. The Dinner Wall, Liming, China.

Through tired eyes, the sandstone walls turreted around the village of Liming were grand to a hallucinogenic level. They rocked to the blue sky and dripped with streaks of black, yellow, and white. The adventurous travel made appreciation of the scene easy. We had arrived by the seat of our pants, but arrived nonetheless! After leaving Vancouver in the rearview, the unknown became the normal. At one point we were lost in the metropolitan sprawl of Kunming, and saved by a guardian angel named Jo. Another time, I spoke to a cabbie’s friend on Facetime to try and translate directions. When a woman in Lijiang shouted “Liming” at us and ushered us into her SUV, we knew it was our last card to play and hopped in with trust in humanity. We arrived in Liming due to the unconditional kindness of people.

Transit Collage. Photos: Kyle Martino and myself.

Though zombied from the travel, we couldn’t resist the urge to climb rock. With a few tired pitches, we warmed our feet and hands to the beating they would take for the next month. The magical rhythm of the climbing life began to roll. Alongside a wonderful international crew we explored the area. On our first full day, Kyle onsighted a rig reminiscent of a world cup boulder: “Eagle Eyed Super Hawk”! It was a treat to watch him run across a slab and catch the jug with wildly swinging legs and viced hands. Kyle grew up in the CCC team system, and the gym style suited him well. Chris Meginbir, an old coach of Kyle’s, once told me a story of a very young Kyle completely frozen in fear part way up the Stronghold wall. Years later, the petrified became rather dynamic. After catching the dyno jug, Kyle fought for a hand heel match that had nothing to do with hip flexibility, and everything to do with sheer determination; five minutes must have passed as Kyle WILLED and COMMANDED his heel to place. “Fudge” was the closest the model of a man got to expletives during the process. Unique tenacity! Later in the trip, the once scared kid in the gym pumped off a steep layback and caught a cool twenty feet of air.

First day finger guns!!!! Photo: Kyle Martino

We flew often. It was his Kyle’s first experience with splitter cracks, and learning through objective failure became a central theme. It was inspiring to watch Kyle go from nursing a bruised ego to changing his mindset to a learning focus. Going from sport to splitter shouldn’t be easy on your idea of success, and frankly, it isn’t. It is a damn hard thing to confront, and I’m proud of Kyle for riding out the choppy wave. Besides, despite what Kyle will say, the man rocked up and crushed.

His mental strength inspired me to try to find some of my own, as I am no expert in the subject. After a few days of exploring, I got on a line I’d dreamed about in Canada: Air China. It motivated many hangboarding sessions at Rocky, and now it was right in front of me. As I gawked, I realized the expectation of inspiration is futile, and that it must come organically. Regardless, as soon as I pulled on I knew I wanted to learn the dance of this rock.

While the trip rolled on, I devoted half of my days to Air China, and the other half to exploring with strangers that were quickly becoming great friends. Fun adventure was found everywhere from hidden valleys to proud, striking features. Everyday was a crag party. Laughter was constant, as was hip hop, metal, and contagious effort. It was a vibe conducive to taking climbing seriously, and taking ourselves incredibly far from seriously. I did the likely first naked ascent of the crag classic “Faraway Corner”, laughing the whole way. Kyle, notorious for his puns found his stride on the other side of the world. Though often received with a shaking head it was nice to know he was thriving. Those who hadn’t heard his thousands of puns adored it. It is a small example that shines light on the idea that when we leave our homes, we often find that through the risk of loneliness we expose ourselves to more human connection. The newly sewn threads only makes the preexisting stronger. Watching your friends grow, and growing alongside them is a beautifully large facet of climbing. Every night, our crew of psyched serendipity would share stories over meals. Fist bumps were ALWAYS exploded! ALWAYS! The rhythm of presence was bumping, and we were dancing. Coffee. Beautiful approach. Climbing hard (for us). Nourishing with amazing MSG packed food. Card games. Sharing stoke. El vida es magnífico!

Chumming over weird music videos. Photo: Pavel Toropov

Of course, our dancing feet did get tired. Rest days were more and more frequent as the month rolled on. The village was vibrant, and the days of relaxing were appreciated. The market came to town every tenth day and this occasion always called for rest. Market day cannot be justified with my words which is perhaps bad news for the quality of this blog! It is a clash of worlds. At one table you could buy a phone case, and at the next a live pig. To be apart of this explosion of culture and diverse representations of the human experience is something that I am grateful for experiencing. I probably would not have experienced this if it wasn’t for climbing.

Spot the foreigners. Market day in Liming!

Liming dance party!

Our trip was coming to its conclusion, and I was having so much fun on Air China that it was time to prioritize it. During this time, Kyle left his mark on Liming, climbing a first ascent at a developing sport climbing crag (an example of the geological diversity of the area) called El Dorado. It was Kyle’s first first ascent! “Fools Gold” is a bouldery gem nestled in the hills of Yunnan, bolted by a Minnesotan named Kip, and climbed by an Albertan named Kyle. Badass! Inspiring! Meanwhile, I found myself constantly going through the waves of making, and then acting on the conscious decision that love is a more powerful motivator than fear. I love Air China. I am scared of Air China. Top roping was never done without nervous excitement for what would surely follow. When it was clear that excuses were running thin, our friend Eliot broke the seal and pulled the rope. The trail was blazed. We whipped. We whooped. I constantly reminded myself I wanted the full experience that the toprope couldn’t offer. There comes a time where if one wants to genuinely experience, one must be willing to take flight. The magnificence of Air China comes from its minimalistic beauty; more opportunity for gear and it wouldn’t demand your soul and mind work together, less and it would be dangerous. The rock allows a sequence of improbable, low percentage moves, uniquely above bomber but spaced gear. It dances a rare and thin line. Air China is a unicorn: it must be believed in to be seen.

Firefighter Kyle on some beautiful lines at El Dorado. Photo 1 : MIke Dobie, Photo 2: Drew Marshall

Each move is beautiful, and should be treated as so. Each lead attempt is, as Voytek Kurtyka says, “a classical opposition of self preservation”. The route is so physically on the edge of my present personal possibility that in order to even get above my gear, I must want to do the moves with all my being. The commitment the moves demand pounce on a shred of doubt, and reward a mind at peace with all outcomes. For me, it is the opportunity for growth, beauty of the rock and movement, the necessity for one to climb with their soul that draws me to Air China. One of the greatest lessons I’ve been taught, and would consider vital to longevity in climbing is a Knut Rokne proverb something under these lines:

“Climbing is 99% failure, and 1% success. If you do not learn to enjoy failure, 99% of the time you’ll be unhappy.”

In the eleventh hour, lacking the skin and gumption to try again, I called for the stick clip. Kyle passed up the loyal stick clip I named Kenneth while aid soloing the pitch and going crazy in the sun. I pulled him up, then thought better. I pulled on to free the moves. A right foot smear. A wild bump from crimp to crimp. A moment of weightlessness. Back on the rope. I stick clipped with peace. I had failed. I had learned. I had fun.

Air China. Psyche manifested. The bolt in the first photo had to be stick clipped on lead. A beautiful, and ongoing process! Photos: Drew Marshall

    Kyle and I found raw adventure in China. Thanks to a loving push from our community, we stepped into the unknown. Out of our comfort zones, a place where real life flourishes with flowers from fertile soil rich with risk, failure, learning, friendship and motivation from the purest source: Love. A slice of real life is served graciously by the rock and readily available to anyone. Liming is one of the many places you can find it.

Kyle and I would like to express our deep gratitude to everyone that helped get us to China. Specifically Simon, Walson, and the CCC team. Broadly, every person that makes up our villages, and every person that leads by example with grace and love.