A Tough Transition

Well, here I am, back in Vancouver, and my road trip officially over. It went by so quick. I miss it already. I think the transition will be harder than I expected. Mainly it's coming back to living in a city that's going to be hard. The first thing I noticed was all the cars, loudly, speeding by. All these anonymous people going to who knows where. The next thing I noticed, and what will no doubt be the hardest for me, is how lonely the city is. In a way, it's ironic that such a crowded place could be just that, and also, how life on the road, even for me, traveling alone could be exactly the opposite. When climbing, and living at a climbing area, I lived so closely with my friends. I would wake up and see them, go climbing with them all day, cook and eat with them. When I wake up in the city, I'm alone. When climbing, if you don't see a friend for a day or two, it doesn't matter, you will see them soon, there are only so many places they will be. If not at the cliff, then at the camping, meeting up is inevitable. In the city I have many friends who, without active planning, I would never see. And when busy, weeks can go by without a visit. At a climbing area, every stranger you meet feels like they could become a friend. Whether its a simple hello when passing on a trail, or a long intense conversation about beta, you interact with the people around you. Here, I'm in a sea of people and don't interact with any of them. It's damn lonely and I don't know if I can or even want to get used to it again.

Wow, that's probably as somber a start to a blog post as I've ever written. Let me try to turn it around a bit. As hard as it is coming home, I'm able to reflect on what was an absolutely amazing trip. It went perfectly. All the different routes I climbed, the projects, the ones I sent and the ones I did not, the warm ups in rifle I ruthlessly dialed and the endless new cliffs I visited at the red, the times spent frustrated, failing yet again, and the those brilliant moments, when mind and body worked perfectly together, those moments when I felt a natural flow on the rock. And all that wasn't just climbing, my injuries, my adventures, the places which went from being brand new to feeling as home as anywhere has ever felt. But what I will remember and appreciate the most for my trip are the people I spent it with. It's wonderful how a shared lifestyle and a shared passion facilitates such a deep and instant connection. After just a few days spent climbing and living with some people on this trip, I felt like old friends, even family. And some of these friends, I just spent a week or two with, and now live across the world from them, yet I still feel the bond we formed and I'm certain we will all climb together again. And when we do, I'm also certain that no matter how much time has past, we will feel just as close as ever. You see, these friends, really get what drives me, they understand exactly how I feel about rock climbing, in the way that only someone who feels the same can. As amazing as this is, there are two sides to this sword. What I mean is, it can be difficult for me to feel fully close and connected to someone who doesn't share my passion, who doesn't understand what climbing means to me, which I feel ultimately defines who I am. As most people close to me recognize, I struggle with balance in my life. By necessity I need to learn how to be happy when climbing isn't my everything, when I'm stuck in the city working or whatever, and a big part of that is learning to connect with different people. Damn, these kinds of challenges aren't nearly as exciting as trying to string together the moves on an overhanging rock face, but alas, probably more important.

In any case, I'll miss my new friends, especially the ones that I wont see for a while, but I'll smile a lot when I think of them. This has turned into a pretty sentimental blog post, but what the hell, I'm running with it now. So that said, to all you rad people out there that climbed with me and shared my trip with me, you know who you are: Thanks. Thanks for being awesome.

Alright, in the interest of keeping this thing small and digestible I'm going to stop there. In my next post I'm going to look over my trip a bit more critically, review what I did right and wrong ( wait, I know earlier I said it was perfect, but that was in the poetic sense, now I'm talking reality) and hopefully provide some tips for others doing similar things. Check back soon if you're interested. Meanwhile, I'm off to work.

Some of (but definitely not all) the great people I climbed with: