Ever had a climbing moment that made no sense? This one still haunts me.
I was mid-route, feeling solid. Just one more reach to the jug, and I’d top out. I saw the hold. I felt the hold. But the second I put weight on it—nothing.
My hand passed straight through.
Panic. My foot slipped. I tumbled, missing the crash pad by inches. My partner ran over—“Dude, what happened? You had it!”
I looked back up. The hold was there. Right where it should be. Like nothing happened.
Was I pumped? Hallucinating? Or… something else?
🤔 Discussion:
Ever misjudged a hold in a way that felt impossible?
Had any eerie or unexplainable moments while climbing?
Do certain boulders or crags just feel weird to you?
Drop your weirdest climbing experiences below! 👇
This is a crazy story! I can't say I've ever experienced this. I will share one of those moments of uneasiness on the rock, though...
I was at Shelf Road in Colorado, and I can't remember the route I was on for the life of me. It was mid-afternoon, and heavy clouds were rolling in. The morning that had started beautiful was turning into what would presumably be an afternoon full of showers and lightning strikes. My climbing partner and I knew it would be our last route of the day, but the incoming storm didn't feel so threatening that I blame it for my total choke.
Anyway, it was my turn to clean the route. It was a fairly difficult climb, but I was really flowing and felt in my element. I knew we were short on time, but I didn't feel rushed. I had just made it to the bolts, and I was immediately soaked in a wave of what I can only describe as dread. I had been climbing long enough and frequently enough at that point that the uncomfy feeling of exposure was no longer registering with me. In that moment, though, it became very, very real, and very, very daunting. I froze up like I never had in my life. I clung to the rock around me for dear life, looking to the thunderheads in the sky, unable to look back to my climbing partner planted safely on the earth below.
I tried to talk myself through it and prepare to clean anyway, but I knew in my current state, I was a liability. "Dude, I need you to get me down right now!" I shouted to Alan, my trusty partner.
Naturally, he got me to the ground safely and didn't mind heading up the route again to clean the anchor he had also built. I felt like a pretty useless partner that day. By the time Alan was down, we were in a full-on Rocky Mountain afternoon storm, and I was inexplicably happy to be heading out of the crag. I still don't know what came over me. It never happened before, and it's never happened since. Sometimes, the rock just tells us "No."
I knew better than to fight it.
Good decision 👏