Climbing Is Consumerism

Climbing is like consumerism. We seek the best crags like we pursue the best companies, consuming their routes like we do the latest iPhone. When we’re done with a route we rate it on a quasi-Amazon website like 8a.nu or Mountain Project and then move on to the next. When we don’t like a climb, we complain about it. “It’s sandbagged” “It’s chossy.” “I’m gonna give this thing only 1 star on Mountain Project!”

Now is this a bad thing? Maybe not. If people didn’t move on to the next thing like an obese person going for seconds at Hometown Buffet, the line on your project would be longer than the route itself. Imagine people dogging on the classic 5.13, taking their time to enjoy it… “Quit having a good time and climb the dang route!” Another benefit is that the cheap made-in-China climbs are rarely done; those loose, dangerous, and runout lines and the accidents associated are avoided. After all, who wants to spend their time on a sketchy, toppling choss pile when they could safely plug their way up Supercrack?

But there’s value in those filled-in gaps at the local crag. There’s value in that project you just sent. There’s value in the time spent on any form of 5th class, whether it’s “classic” or “only a crappy 5.9”. That value is just easy to overlook.

Our attention may be as fleeting as that of a dog in a sausage factory, but that doesn’t mean we can’t reel it in every once in a while. You spent a long time on that project… you dogged all over it, you screamed, you threw your shoes… now that the rope is in the chains why not savor it a bit? Carry that satisfaction, even if you immediately go to the next Walmart toaster oven… ahem, I mean route.

The same with that mossy thing tucked in the corner… why not give it a try? And if it’s as bad as it looks, savor it just the same. What’s the point of climbing something if all you can think about is the next climb?