For 16 days he had been working on the route. It's called "Linus", and it is one of the toughest rock climbs the state of Utah has to offer. Kenny Matys, the best climber Canada has to offer these days, was almost at the top.
For 16 days, he had worked out every hand hold, every foot position. Years of experience, hours upon hours spent perfecting each hold, and a basic desire to test his own limits were the only things that kept Matys pushing towards the top of this perilous climb for so long.
"Linus" is a 5-13d. For those of us who aren't experts on rock-climbing's ranking system, suffice it to say that Matys was climbing up the equivalent of a flat sheet of concrete, a lot of it upside down. Some of the hardest moves of this 40 foot climb come right at the start. Every climb has what is called a "crux" -- the point at which you must make the most difficult move. "Linus" has three. Finally, after all those days of trying, Matys made it to the top. What separated him from completing this astounding goal was just clipping his rope into the final carabiner -- the last clamp. Matys was so close he could lick that carabiner, but all his energy was required just to hold on. His arms were completely pumped -- so much blood had pooled in his forearms that he simply couldn't move his hands anymore. Inches, heck, millimetres away from his goal, he couldn't figure out how to release a hand so he could get the rope clamped in.
Then...he fell.
Sport climbing is rapidly becoming an popular pastime for many North American athletes who have tried just about every other sport, and are looking for new challenges. These are people looking for an activity sure to get the adrenaline going. We've all seen those "crazies" climbing up some rock face in the middle of nowhere, but those aren't the people who are really driving the sport to new participation levels.
What climbers love is the diverse requirements of the sport. It is physically, mentally, and spiritually challenging. Climbing is as much a matter of problem solving as anything else. While you are solving those problems, you have to hold on with all your strength to a tiny crack in a piece of rock. You have to control the fear that any second you might not be able to hold on any longer, and just like Matys, you will fall.
Most of the new people entering the sport will never actually climb an outdoor rock. Their entire rock climbing careers will be spent scaling a 20 to 36 foot wall in one of the 330 climbing gyms that have sprouted up throughout North America over the past five years. These are triathletes, runners, rugby players, mountain bikers -- all kinds of different athletes who have taken to this new challenge with a furver that is hard to believe.
Here's what's even better news:
They aren't all men!
When you first walk in to the Gravity Climbing Gym, situated in a warehouse in Hamilton, you are immediately drawn to the diversity of the people inside. Over in one corner are the serious psychos -- they are "lead roping" (a type of climbing where you carry your rope up with you and clip in to a series of carabiners or clamps along the way) the toughest climbs in the building. The walls they are scaling actually jut out so that for about 10 feet, the climbers are literally hanging upside down.
The far end of the building seems to be more of the couples area tonight. Four of the six pairs are guy/girl combinations. While no one is calling climbing gyms the "pick-up joints" of the 90's, lots of like-minded couples are finding each other as they scale the plastic walls. Matys met his wife at a gym in Utah. The co-owners of this 14-month-old gym, Reid Monk and Karen Baxter, were once into squash and other sports, but once they tried climbing, they quickly became addicted.
The couples in the gym tonight are "top roping" -- climbing up the wall with a safety rope clamped high above them. Their partners are belaying them, holding on to one end of the rope, prepared to catch their partner as soon as they can't hold onto the wall any more.
Women do better when they are first learning to climb because they don't try to rely on strength. The most important factor in climbing is balance and technique. It doesn't matter if you can do 100 chin ups, or none. The best climbers make it all look easy -- a slow motion vertical ballet up the wall, moving from hold to hold, using their hands and feet to keep themselves attached to the wall.
Everyone at Gravity is either an experienced climber, or has taken a $35 introductory course to learn basic techniques of indoor climbing. "Top roping" is incredibly safe -- as long as you know what you are doing, which is one of the reasons that no self-respecting club will let beginners walk in off the street and start fighting gravity. (Their pun, not mine!)
Does the safety-emphasis work? Yes. Of the 330 climbing gyms in North America, not a single one has faced a major accident claim
"An accident in top roping is simply an inexcusable error," says Monk. "Just one accident claim would put us out of business -- we would never get insurance again."
Top roping in a gym, when you fall, the furthest you might go is about a foot. Most of that comes from the stretch of the rope.
Matys practically never top ropes anymore. For him the gym is a training ground, the equivalent of a track for a world class sprinter. When he arrives at the gym, he moves directly to the "caves." The caves are where you get to practice what is called "bouldering" -- a type of climbing that doesn't use ropes. There would be little point -- the caves don't take you too far off the ground, but offer some of the most challenging climbing you can imagine.
On one of the caves at Gravity, you are basically climbing on a ceiling. Each hold is critical, because you are fighting gravity all the way. Even here balance is key -- it's impossible to pull yourself along, you must support as much of your weight as possible with your feet.
Matys trains here, but he also spends a lot of time on a vertical cave wall which is covered with different pockets, slopers, crimpers and pinches -- plastic knobs that duplicate the real rock he might find outdoors. Each requires a different technique to hold, and Matys spends hours mastering the best way to make each hold using the least amount of energy.
All the practice makes the rest of the walls in the gym a breeze for Matys. There isn't a single one he can't "flash" -- climb up easily on his first try. At 125 pounds, the 5 foot 6 inch 24-year-old Hamiltonian has the optimal build for climbing. His tiny frame is deceptively muscular. His regular street clothes hide the thick shoulders and upper back that taper down to his thin waist.
As much as he embodies the spirit of climbing, Matys is the extreme. The two time Canadian climbing champion lives for his sport, and hopes one day to compete at the Olympic Games. (The sport hopes for Olympic recognition by the year 2000.)
Of the 3500 other men and women who have climbed at Gravity, almost half will never try to climb outdoors. Nine out of ten will never enter a structured competition. They are content to keep stretching their limits -- testing themselves physically, mentally and spiritually on a rock, a wall, a mountain side. They don't need to compete against others.
Matys never made that final hold on "Linus," but he knows that some day he will. He knows that in the future he will finish even tougher climbs -- all he needs is more experience. He knows that finishing "Linus" won't ever be enough -- there will always be another boundary to be crossed.
We all love to be challenged. Who figured a wall in a gym could do just that.
For indoor climbing, the equipment requirements are minimal. All you really need are: a harness ($39-$95), a chalk bag and climbing shoes ($99-$170). For outdoor sport climbing (bolted routes), you need to add rope ($140-$180 for 150 feet), carabiners ($6.95-$25) and possibly a helmet (more for protection from falling debris and swinging into a rock face than protection from a fall!).