Then I moved to the South, and was forced to maneuver out of my bouldering persona because of the weather, but more importantly because of my passion for climbing movement. During the summer months, the sandstone sweat too much and the friction hardly existed for "hard" bouldering to take place. I began learning the art of sport and trad. Oh it was too easy to make excuses why I didn't excel at these disciplines. "I'm a boulderer at heart, I have no endurance!"
Now it is the midst of winter in Colorado. I imagined I would be doing nothing but bouldering this time of year simply for the fact it is miserable climbing and belaying routes in the bitter cold. Lo and Behonld, I have crossed the threshold into a rope wrangler, albeit a bad one....for now. My thoughts are consumed by routes I'm dying to crush, and the process involved. The epiphany which struck me is climbing is climbing, and it is dangerous to limit and label yourself in one discipline of climbing. Perhaps this seems like common sense to most climbers, but Its something I'm just beginning to discover.
Ian's proud onsight of Lats Don't Have Feelings at Shelf.
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