This past week a pivotal event in rock climbing history took place, an ascent of significance. Two American climbers completed a seven-year dream of free climbing the Dawn Wall of El Capitan in Yosemite Valley California. Why was this significant? In the climbing world it鈥檚 the hardest multipitch free climb in the world, climbing El Cap鈥檚 3,000 feet over 32 pitches of climbing.
The route, based on an aid climb of the same name done in 1970, was controversial even then. Hailed as the hardest rock climb yet done at the time, the route was heavily criticized by the climbing community; the first ascentionists鈥� heavy use of bolts to overcome seemingly blank sections was regarded by the climbing establishment as a cheater鈥檚 way of solving the challenges presented. It came to a head when the leading climber of the day climbed the route for the second ascent and began chopping the bolts from the wall in an effort to erase the route from existence. He was making a destructive statement. However, after he encountered pitch after pitch of difficult terrain involving huge amounts of skill, he decided he had acted rashly and judged the first ascentionists too harshly.
The recent ascent was oddly whipped by the media into a frenzied circus. Rock climbing is an unpopular and misunderstood activity that rarely attracts that amount of attention. U.S. President Barack Obama even tweeted his congratulations to the team. With two homegrown U.S. men leading the ascent on the most famous cliff in North America, in their crown jewel of a national park, it鈥檚 no wonder even the non-climbing world stopped and took notice.
Personally, I have never identified with the feeling of large, popular sporting events working the public to such fervour that it affects a collective nation鈥檚 motivations and inspires them to acts of personal greatness. I understand the idea, but have never felt the rush when my team wins the Stanley Cup to get off my couch and in shape, improve my slapshot or even learn how to ice skate. Watching Lance Armstrong increase his lead from the peloton or someone reduce their rival to ashes on the greens of Wimbleton is similarly head-scratching to me. It鈥檚 impressive within the activity itself, but it wouldn鈥檛 cause me to get out the bicycle or dust off the tennis racket. So, it was with great happiness and joy that I finally, after two decades of climbing, got to feel that rush of collective inspiration, pride and motivation with my fellow climbers when Kevin Jorgenson and Tommy Caldwell pulled over the summit rim of El Cap鈥檚 Dawn Wall and established their line, the most difficult multipitch free climb in the world.
From my armchair on the Southern Summit of the Chief at 3:22 p.m. with my daughter on my back, I received a text from a friend: 鈥淲oooooooooooooooooo!鈥� I went immediately to the climbing gym that night.
