As I start this blog and continue to recover from my finger injury, I’m finding myself looking back and reminiscing about my first climbing season.  My first lead climb, my first road trip, and my first experience of Miguel’s pizza are all memories that I’ll hopefully have forever.  There is one memory, however, that will certainly stand out more than any other.

Macon, Georgia, is not exactly the greatest place on earth to live for a rock climber.  Being 80 miles to the closest gym and 3-4 hours to any real climbable rock, Macon had only one real possibility for regular climbing — Boat Rock in Atlanta.  I hardly count Boat Rock as climbable rock because, as a beginner, the punishing, featureless slabs of skin-shredding granite were…well, punishing.  But, the boulders were closer than anything else.  So, as my girlfriend was teaching me to climb, Boat Rock was often the place we found ourselves.

While, during my time at Boat Rock, I rarely got off the ground, it wasn’t all punishment.  My first successful attempt at projecting a problem was at Boat Rock.  The classic finger crack, Lost Digits, was the first problem I ever set my sights on, worked over a period of time, and then sent.  Also, I learned a lot about footwork on the seemingly blank granite.  But, to me, the most important problem at Boat Rock is one that I’ve not sent — yet.

Yellow Arete is another Boat Rock classic.  It’s one of the tallest problems there.  A beautiful, slightly overhung V4, Yellow Arete was often where my girlfriend and I would find ourselves ending the day.  Towards the end of that first climbing season, I had gone from not even being able to start the problem to falling off at the third move.  No, that’s not a lot of progress to some, but to me it was.  To me, I was finally working a V4.  

Yellow Arete. Photo from http://www.rockclimbing.com/photos/Bouldering/Mike_on_Yellow_Arete_96656.html

 Then, one day, as we had done on pretty much every trip to Boat Rock before, my girlfriend and I were staring up at Yellow Arete as we ended our climbing day.  To me this seemed like the perfect time to start a new project.  Looking up at the highball V4, I knew the project wouldn’t be easy, but I also knew it was possible.  I knew this new project would seem punishing at times and I’d probably leave some skin behind, but it felt worth it.  So, I pulled the ring out of my pocket, and right there on our crash pad, I proposed to my soon-to-be wife.

My wife and I finally got out of Macon.  It’s been a while since we’ve been back to Boat Rock and Yellow Arete.  But, that climb will always be on the list of climbs I must do someday.  I think of it pretty much every time I’m bouldering at the gym.  To me, that problem is more than a beautiful line or a wanted addition to my tick list.  Instead, that climb is represents the moment I started the most important and fun project of my life…the project I’ll keep working until I die.

Do you have a sentimental climb?  What is it and why?