Climbers by Karen Elterman
I climb, but I am not a climber, at least not yet. That is to say, I am not one of those people you would look at and say: "Now there is someone who knows this sport," even though I plan to be climbing (I hope) through college. I’ve never climbed a mountain. Hiked, yes- climbed, no. But I go to the class every Tuesday, and I go to the gym and I see the people. I tend to be an observer naturally; to see people from the outside as if I were writing them as characters in a book. You wouldn’t know this if you are a climber, because you can’t see yourself from the outside looking in, but climbers are a pretty interesting group to observe.
This is what I mean. Let’s say that centuries ago, in a certain place, the Earth rolled and surged together and fought and rearranged itself, and this is what it created: a rock. Your average person would look at that rock and think something along the lines of "Look, a rock." A geologist might look at it, and imagine its grand creation, and take notes in a little book with blue lines. A climber would walk by and look at that rock for the first time and say "If only there was a way to match hands before the overhang…"
There are other things, too, small things that you take for granted. I’ve heard climbers talking, and you can go on for hours discussing old routes and referring to them affectionately by their nicknames. There are the words that you use, too. There is a climbing dictionary online, and there and there are 17 words at the top of the page. In the A section. "Cam, arete, ATC" these words are as much a part of your vocabulary as "chair" or "bird." If you are a climber, you probably know most of them automatically. I feel like I would have to get rid of some of my current vocabulary to make room for them. ("You know, that thing that nests up by the 8th hold. The one with wings.")
Seriously, though. It’s hard to explain, but there’s this sort of energy, almost, that all old climbers seem to have. I’ll look at a route, and I’ll sort it out in my mind, and I’ll climb it OK, but it just seems to come to some people. They look at the route, lift up their hands in a series of swift motions, and then climb it with no falls, making it look like they stepped off the last rung of a ladder. In Aleksey’s case, this would be done while wearing running shoes, and after saying that his hands had been hurting him recently.
