The beginning:
The first time I tried my hand at climbing, I was sceptical. I saw people going up and down the wall at an indoor climbing gym but it didn't seem like a lot of fun to me. Occasionally a climber would slip off the wall, hang from a rope and stare at the wall, trying to figure out if they had done something wrong. Sometimes, they were able to finish the climb all the way to the top. Other times, they would give up but usually not without putting in a good effort.
I wasn't sure I saw the whole point of the sport, but it had been a long drive out to gym and if I was never to climb again after that day, I was at least going to give it a fair try.
At first, I was taught the basics of belaying, which meant hanging on to the rope using specific techniques and something called a "belay device". The rope goes all the way from the belayer up to the top of the climb, where it goes through an anchor (a metal ring solidly attached to the wall by chains) and back down to the climber where it is attached to his harness. As the climber ascends, the belayer takes in the rope, so that the climber wouldn't ever have to fall far. This sort of climbing was called top-rope climbing and was the most beginner-friendly. Still, it was more than a little scary knowing that the other guy's wellbeing and possibly his life were literally in my hands. I did okay, but soon it was my turn to climb and the fear was quickly replaced by concern for my own life and wellbeing. About three meters up the wall, I looked down, then tried, and failed miserably, to recall the last time I was that far from the ground standing on anything remotely as narrow as two pieces of rock, each no larger than a tennis ball. I decided that looking down was unwise. Slowly, one foothold at a time, I stepped up the wall and after what felt like a very long time, I had reached the ceiling with the sudden realisation that I had no idea what I was supposed to do next. I thought I heard instructions coming from below, and after I'd gathered my wits a little, I realised I was being told to 'sit on the harness and let go off the rock'. Of course, I had seen the other climbers do exactly that, but surely it didn't apply to this situation because at that very moment, gravity felt like it was working ten times harder than usual. I felt so heavy hanging on that rope. Was that other guy even paying attention when he was being taught to belay? I tried to think of another way out of there. Climbing down would have made me the laughing stock of the gym and I wouldn't have minded it too much if it didn't involved looking towards the ground. I knew I was left with only one option - to sit on the harness and let go off the rock. My ass was, literally, in the sling.
Within seconds, I was lowered to the ground and I was both relieved and exhilarated. It was a good experience. Fun even, in the same way that rollercoasters were fun. Your head tells you it's perfectly safe to go on the ride, yet your stomach and your legs tell you otherwise. It was a thrill and at the same time, it seemed perfectly logical to listen to the reassurances of the other climbers to trust the rope (and the anchor and the belayer and my harness and their harness and the belay device, any of which could have killed me if they had failed to stop working for a second).
A few weeks after my first climb, I found myself going to the climbing gym quite regularly. It was no longer scary and exhilarating. I'd even fallen off the wall several times and the rope had caught me each time. I was beginning to attach a sense of security to the rope. It wasn't that I had conquered a fear of heights. I was still nervous climbing up ladders at home to change light bulbs. But at the gym, with a rope tied to my harness, it didn't matter how high I climbed. I felt safe. And with this feeling of security, the thrill of the ride down was gone, but by now I had gotten used to the idea of going to the gym once a week. I didn't think much about it. It was a good workout and it was fun, and it didn't matter that I wasn't getting any better. I had no aspirations or goals related to climbing. It was just a way to stay in shape. It was what I did on Thursdays.
A few months in, I was climbing with some friends at the gym when the funniest feeling came over me. I was trying out a climb I had no hope of finishing but I got further than anybody had expected and people started cheering me on. I came off the wall without finishing the climb, but I started feeling this pride in my efforts, as if I had just done something remarkable. Like a child that has received rare praise, I started feeling a strong attachment to the sport. I saw this in my friends too. We weren't just there for the exercise. We were climbers.
I spent several months climbing the artificial walls of the indoor gym but I realised more and more of my friends were venturing outdoors. I kept telling myself I wasn't ready for it, but at the same time, I kept hearing about the stories of the climbs. Eventually, curiosity got the better of me and I followed them on their weekend outdoor excursions. I found climbing outdoors both easier and harder at the same time. Easier because for any difficulty rating, a climb will have it's hard bits and easy bits, so I can get in plenty of rest time before attempting difficult moves. Harder because I find myself moving quite uncertainly - almost in slow motion - when climbing outdoors because I am terrified of falling, even with the rope and all. This fear is not entirely unjustified because when climbing on real rock, there are outcrops and sharp ledges and all kinds of hazards besides the ground to worry about if I were to slip up.
Despite that, climbing outdoors has opened up a whole new area of climbing to me. The climbs are longer and more interesting, and the surroundings are more relaxed and more open and the air is fresher, but on top of all the obvious advantages, there is also the satisfying notion that I am climbing something natural - that I am developing an ability that has a use in the real world. In that sense, outdoor climbing became the purpose for practising in the indoor gym. From then on, we spent almost every Sunday at Batu Caves, for the next two years.
- Sim
Rock climbing anecdotes (mostly from Malaysia):
How it started
The anonymous belayer
Damai wall at Batu caves
A bad fall at Damai
Obsession
Newbies (Shuann, Loong Yip, See Ming)
The big fall at Comic Wall
Competition climbing
Nyamuk Area
The one that fell on the rope
Onsighting
The one that hit my head
The one that took my skin off
Dropped
Getting hitched
Having fun
Photo Pages:
Sept 2003 - Some of the anchors we found at Comic Wall
Jan 2004 - We head to Tebong for our first experience with natural bouldering
Feb 2004 - We celebrate Mike's birthday and some Asian X-Gamers came to visit
May 2004 - We cancel our trip to Krabi to go to Genting, JB and Singapore instead
