What's the Problem?

Hey kids.  Before I drop today's climbing guidance on you, the Guidance Meister's been doing some serious marathon Dateline and immediately ensuing Law and Order "ripped-from-the-headlines" episode watching, so he's got something to say.  Listen up. 

Don't Cut.  Don't Pharm.  Don't Sex.  And definitely do not Ride the Whip-are you kidding me with that one?

I haven't slept in weeks worrying about all the seriously wacked out crap ya'll are into these days.  I mean, what are you kids doing?  Tossing a bunch of illicit, obviously made-up behaviors into a hat, and then just going out and doing a bunch of them at random?  Don't even try to tell me you're innocent, because there's two things that Dateline and Law and Order have definitely never done: they don't disappoint me with un-riveting story lines...and they'll never, ever lie to me.

Alright, enough said about that-I think we understand each other.

The Guidance Meister's also recently been doing some thinking in the third person about all this grade spray you all are constantly reading on the Internet.  Kids, climbing ain't just about numbers.  Yes, grades do have their place, but "Vblahbittyblah" is not a route description.  I've realized that, just like I needed that Eskimo to teach me a hundred words for snow before I could really appreciate the many ways to turn it yellow, someone's got to learn you something about everything that goes into making a rock climb what it is.

First, you've got to survey the entire route experience with your five senses.  Sight, touch, and hearing are the obvious candidates, but don't forget the importance of the oft-neglected taste and smell.  Can anything surpass the sensory delights of climbing with an aromatic, slightly-sucked minty lozenge?  As a bonus-and you kids are going to love this-rebel-without-a-cause-wise, it's right up there with climbing with scissors.  

Be conscious of your state of mind when you're climbing.  What are your hopes and fears?  Your dreams and most wacked-out freako fantasies?  Do I like to pretend that, as a result of the explosive charges I've deposited in strategic locations along the way, the rock is blowing up behind me as I continue to climb calmly, unfazed, and ever onward?  Yes.  Is the great irony that my "stoicism" is actually with reference to an utterly imagined scenario, and therefore, in reality, the exact opposite of stoicism?  Yes, yes, a thousand times yes, and my climbing experience is all the better for it.    

Are the climbing sequences consistent?   Even at 5.15a, "a razor crimp dyno onto the parking space ledge where they're holding the monthly meeting of Oprah's book club to a heinous sloper gaston" will never appeal to me.  (Because of the ledge, not Oprah. Don't think I wouldn't Skype Oprah everyday just to tell her my latest aha moment, if I had a clue what Skype was.)

Who are you climbing with?  Having my parents there has always made me feel powerful, but that's just my special mommy-daddy-Meister bond.  You'll have your own crew, of course.  I know many climbers, for instance, who take great pleasure in the company of VB suckos climbing three months out the gate.  While I often question the ethics of these people-if you've been climbing for three months and can't climb V7, suckos, you've really got some nerve invading the space of real climbers-there's always something to be said for slumming it.

And finally, how about the danger factor?  Personal injury or a dead friend can compromise the value of any rock climb-or elevate it to new heights.  Once, at American Fork, my portly friend Ron's ample thighs slipped out of his make-shift swami as he swung out over a 100-ft. chasm.  Thankfully, his Boy Scout training kicked in quickly as he bent his plump gams to hook the webbing with his hefty knees.  After slamming upside-down and chubby back-first into the wall, he crumpled, fat, onto the ledge-a broken, chunky chunk of a man.  In this case, Ron's accident (just because I mis-tied the swami doesn't make it my accident) enhanced the experience of the route, which thenceforth took on a legendary, almost timeless aura.  And don't worry, kids.  Fat Ronny lived...forever in our memories.

The Guidance Meister would like to clarify that he began wearing those colored bracelets because he saw some kids with them on Dateline and thought they looked cool-not because he wanted to indicate how far he had gone or was willing to go, as he only later discovered was their purpose.  He has since vowed to watch every episode of Dateline in full, and afterwards, of course, to make sure not to miss Law and Order, for clarification.