Written by Bronwyn Hodgins

Photos by John Kasaian,
Alex Eggermont

 

I bounce lightly in my shoes, following the edge of the White Rim, careful not to lose my footing as I look out over a vast sculpted landscape of red sandstone. I imagine I’m running along the surface of Mars. It might as well be Mars considering how cold I am! I swing my arms trying to get the blood flowing.

 

15 minutes later I scamper down below the Rim to where my new friends Chris Lile, John Kasaian and Lindsay Hamm are playing on the first section of the intimidating horizontal crack. I stare down the line, down the crack I’ve been training for all season and thinking about for a couple years now. Necronomicon was originally discovered by Rob Pizem, freed by Jean-Pierre Ouellet and popularized by fellow Wild Country climbers, Pete Whittaker and Tom Randall. The route’s first and only female ascent came earlier this year by another teammate Mary Eden.

 

 

After two months sea kayaking and establishing big routes in Greenland, I returned home to Squamish, BC in early September and slept for a week while I pondered what the next project might be. I caught rumour that a friend had built an elaborate roof crack training set-up in his shed and excitedly went to check it out. This was it! I’ll train for two months in Jeff’s Crack Shack (while I work the tail-end of the rock guiding season) and then head to Utah in November to try Necronomicon.

 

Then my friend Pim and I found a training facility that was an even better match for Necronomicon: a 30m uniform thin hands roof crack on the underside of a concrete bridge. The slippery surface meant that you couldn’t relax even for a second or you’d slip out, so you really had to stay focused with all muscles engaged. This would be the perfect endurance training for my thumbs and ankles! The rack was an outrageous 18 red Friends and 4 green ones. At first I could barely make it a quarter of the way, but we kept going back. By the end of October I’d managed to pinkpoint the bridge (with pre-placed Friends) and came close on a couple occasions to sending the full redpoint. On Halloween I hit the road for Utah.

 

 

Chris, Lindsay, John and I have been camped out on the White Rim for four days now. We have two days left. I rested yesterday in hopes of feeling fresh today, but in truth I feel exhausted. Maybe from camping in the cold for the past month, maybe the intense beta-rehearsal sessions on Necronomicon the previous couple of days, maybe I hadn’t given my body enough time to recover after Greenland… But I had to push those negative thoughts aside.

 

I knew what to do. I can draw confidence on past experiences. If there’s one skill I’ve honed from my big wall free climbing pursuits, it’s how to perform well when the time counts and when my body is fatigued. I love this stuff: the mental process. I’d been visualizing the sequences in my head over and over. As I tie in, I focus my mind on the flow of the movements and deflect away any thoughts of outcome or success. Keep my mind in the present. I hold on to this as a mantra.

 

 

TRAINING AND TACTICS

FOR DESERT ROOF CRACKS

by Bronwyn Hodgins

4.0 minute read

 

 

Check my knot, belay looks good. You got me? Chris replies enthusiastically and I launch into the crack. I make it through the wide hand and fists into the middle of the roof, where I pause to recover in a good hand jam pod before blasting into the crux. Five moves later my thumbs are powered out and I can’t squeeze hard enough. I loose focus, my foot cuts and suddenly I’m dangling on the rope. Bummer. I try to not get too discouraged. We scramble up on top to eat lunch in the sun. I allow myself to fully rest and recover. Two hours later I lace up my running shoes. It’s hard to keep warm out here, but I also don’t want to waste energy warming up too much. Everything is strategic. As I go through my routine I ponder how to arrive more fresh at the crux… I make two crucial changes.

 

 

Tactic 1: I’m going to wear crack gloves over my thin, single-layer tape gloves for the first half of the crack (wide-hands). Then I’m going to ripe them off with my teeth one at a time and clip them to my harness. Once in the kneebar after the crux I’ll put them back on again for the wide-hands finish! This will protect my poor bruised hands and allow me to relax a bit better.

 

Tactic 2: Instead of shaking out at the last hand jam before the crux, I’m going to rest alternating on fists in a wider pod nearby. The fists feel less secure and more strenuous, but I will be using different muscles meaning my thumbs will get a break. Then I can blast fresh-thumbed into the crux!

 

I tie in for a second burn and I never weight the rope, 20 minutes later I step onto the pedistool at the far end of the roof. Only then does the emotion flood in and I allow myself to celebrate. The tactics worked, the strategy paid off, and gosh I adore the mental game in this sport! In exciting reflections post-trip, if I can send my hardest trad pitch in 5 days, I think I could dream bigger for the next one. 

 

 

From the belay, my heart was racing! I flashed back to when I had just arrived in Ten Sleep WY, I had taken a small hiatus from sport climbing to focus on my mental health, and felt overwhelmingly nervous on the wall. I hopped on a climb at my onsight limit, and remember shaking before clipping each draw, certain that I was about to fall on every single move until I had clipped the anchors. My new friends yelled from the ground for me to keep going, whooping cheering as I made one desperate move after another. In each move I took, I fought against my internal monologue pleading for me to take a rest on the next bolt. Against all odds, I had made it clean to the chains.

 

Move by move as Sónia neared the anchors, I sensed her fighting that same battle. I yelled up, “VENGA SÓNIA FUERTE!”

 

Only one move from sending the climb, her arm grabbed the rope and waived up to the anchor draw, then snapped back to the rock as she dropped the rope. Up to the draw, back to the rock. From below, I continued to shout encouragement- I knew she could clip the anchors if she dug deep.

 

Her hand reached far to the right, leaning in towards the chains…

 

*click*

 

 

A huge smile spread across both of our faces. We cheered together, 25 meters apart, as she looked around at the beautiful Coll de Nargó landscape behind her! Her energy was vicarious, and when she got down to the bottom we just started dancing and celebrating and hugging.

 

The day was a huge success. Not because of the send, because it’s never really about the send, is it? It was a success because Sónia overcame the physical, mental, and emotional barriers she faced while on the wall. It was a success because we shared this universal moment of trying hard. What we walk away with after a day like this trickles down into our everyday life, and feeds into what makes us, us.

 

 

A huge smile spread across both of our faces. We cheered together, 25 meters apart, as she looked around at the beautiful Coll de Nargó landscape behind her! Her energy was vicarious, and when she got down to the bottom we just started dancing and celebrating and hugging.

 

The day was a huge success. Not because of the send, because it’s never really about the send, is it? It was a success because Sónia overcame the physical, mental, and emotional barriers she faced while on the wall. It was a success because we shared this universal moment of trying hard. What we walk away with after a day like this trickles down into our everyday life, and feeds into what makes us, us.

 

 

Although I didn’t send a project or climb at my limit, I also tapped into my try-hard. I had been nervous about the day; the grades at Coll can be hilariously sandbagged. Usually, I’m the one who’s scared! I knew I wanted to create a calm, fearless energy at the crag for Sónia to feel comfortable in. The entire day I was hanging draws while onsighting new routes, setting up top ropes, and taking them down again. I felt my confidence grow as I played more and more on the rock, laughing with Sónia and having such a fun ‘girls day out’ at the crag.

 

A few days later, I returned to the crag filled with positive energy from my day with Sónia. Her try-hard percolated into my mind, my energy, my forearms and fingers. I had been too scared to lead my own project at Coll, so up until this point, I had only tried the second half of the route twice on top ropes others had put up for me. But now I was psyched. I took a deep breath, harnessed the try-hard, and went for a lead attempt despite not knowing all of the sequences by heart. And then, I sent.

 

 

Although I didn’t send a project or climb at my limit, I also tapped into my try-hard. I had been nervous about the day; the grades at Coll can be hilariously sandbagged. Usually, I’m the one who’s scared! I knew I wanted to create a calm, fearless energy at the crag for Sónia to feel comfortable in. The entire day I was hanging draws while onsighting new routes, setting up top ropes, and taking them down again. I felt my confidence grow as I played more and more on the rock, laughing with Sónia and having such a fun ‘girls day out’ at the crag.

 

A few days later, I returned to the crag filled with positive energy from my day with Sónia. Her try-hard percolated into my mind, my energy, my forearms and fingers. I had been too scared to lead my own project at Coll, so up until this point, I had only tried the second half of the route twice on top ropes others had put up for me. But now I was psyched. I took a deep breath, harnessed the try-hard, and went for a lead attempt despite not knowing all of the sequences by heart. And then, I sent.