FEET ON FIRE

Back in 1989, or so, I can’t remember exactly when, Dan McHale used to frequent the Vertical Club on Elliot St. I got to know him a bit just from his climbing visits and from his pack company McHale & Co. Check out his line of custom packs. They are some of the best you will ever see. I found out that he was into fire walking. I didn’t know anything about that stuff except for what I saw on National Geographic’s report on some weird tribal ritual somewhere in the Amazon. He told me a bit about the art of fire walking and he showed me a picture out of a Life magazine of him fire walking on his hands. That’s right, he walked on his hands across a bed of red coals. That blew my mind. I got interested in this bizarre activity so I told Greg Child about Dan. I asked Dan to take us on his next fire-walking trip and he agreed.

One Saturday Greg and I followed Dan up to a remote area between Enumclaw and Crystal Mountain. Dan had a couple of experienced friends with him. Greg and I were just along for the ride. We both had the same commitment to stay the hell away from the burning coals, and only to take pictures. It took a while to get back into the secluded section of the forest where Dan had picked a perfect site to lay out the site for the fire pit. All of us chipped in on the job of scouring the woods for large logs to create a bon fire that was about seven feet tall and 20 feet in length. I was a bit surprised in how much lumber was piled on the pit and wondered how no one was going to see this spectacle. We worked for several hours to get this thing laid out to burn down to a good bet of bright red ambers. It took about six hours or so for the wood to burn down to where Dan could rake the coals out evenly. During this long wait we had plenty of time to have a few beers and listen to Dan coach us on the essence of fire walking. It was kind of strange, like Yoda, the Jedi master trying to teach Larry the cable guy about the Force. You know what I mean? The student standing there with a blank look scratching his butt. At that point Greg and I were sure that we were not venturing into the world of the ring of fire that burns so deep.

It finally got to the moment of truth. Dan was all prepped and psyched to venture on to the coals. Greg and I sat there with nervous anticipation. I actually was a bit fearful. What happens if something goes wrong? How do you take care of a burn patient in the middle of nowhere? Yikes. Dan stood in front of the pit for a few moments with a trance like look on his face and started out over the bed of coals with a steady gate. I couldn’t believe it. Greg and I looked at each other in amazement. M heart rate finally came down to normal when Dan decided to put his buddy on his back and take a trip across the pit. That was freaking me out. I couldn’t believe it.
Dan did a bit more talking to us about the method of fire walking and calmed our nerves. At that point I was so intrigued that I stood up and told Greg that I was going for it. Greg said that if I did it, then he would do it. To this day I can still remember standing before that pit, getting myself into this zone that Dan talked about, and concentrated on a point on the other end of the pit. The idea is to believe that you can’t get burned and focus on the other end of the pit where there are no coals. After a few moments of concentration and some deep breathing I took the walk across the burning ambers. My walk was a bit hurried and when I got to the other side I quickly took a seat and checked my feet. Nothing! Wow, was I relieved. Next it was Greg’s turn. He went through the same process and made it over just fine.

By the end of the night Greg and I made three trips over the fire pit. Each time was done with a little more confidence. On Greg’s third trip across he took his camera and pointed it towards his feet as he walked across the pit, snapping pictures along the way. I couldn’t believe he did that. Maybe it was a mix between the beers, the Yoda coaching, and his grand sense of curiosity. I was impressed. Dan told us that sometime during our drive home our feet would heat up and feel like they had been burned. He was right. My feet felt like they were on fire. I got home at around 3 in the morning and rushed to the bathtub and dunked my feet into cold water. I checked them out and there were no burns. Very strange.

I chalked that night up to one of my most unique adventures. I am glad I did it but I will never do it again. It was intense. I guess I have lost a little of my boldness in my old age.
Thanks Dan for a great lesson. Keep pulling.

Rich

THOSE WONDERFUL DAYS IN FREMONT

In the summer of 1994 we decided we had enough of the old Vertical Club on Elliot Ave. It was time to say goodbye to the glued on rocks, cinder block walls, 16 ft tall walls, and a front door that handed out skull fractures to those who were 6’ tall or more. That damn door. If you weren’t watching your head as you walked in you would trip on the board at the bottom. One time a lady came through the door holding big shopping bags in each hand, but failed to hurdle the menacing obstacle at her feet. Things went flying everywhere. She ended up face down on the floor looking like she was getting ready to do snow angels, the shopping bags released most of the contents all over the front area of the gym, and everyone in the gym stopped what they were doing to get a gander at the poor woman trying to gather her self and all her strewn goodies. Good thing she didn’t just return from a shopping spree at Victoria Secret. That would have been embarrassing.

Any way, it was time for a new gym. We secured a beautiful building right next to the Fremont bridge. If you know where Adobe software is, that is where the gym stood. We were right on the water and had a big pull up door that was right next to the water. In the summer time we climbed a bit then would go hang out by the shore. The gym was big. The ceilings were over 40 ft tall. To this day I still think it was one of the most aesthetic gyms I have ever been in, meaning the look of the gym and the location. After climbing you could walk up the stairs and hang out in one of the many local pubs for a brew before heading home.

I put my heart and soul in to that gym. I was the designated panel maker and I had to make 750 4 x 4 panels in 30 days because our lease was running out at the old location. I can’t count how many people would stop by and make the infamous proclamation “There is no way you are going to pull it off”. There were wagers made on whether the gym would be open in time. In my eyes that was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. I calculated that if I did 25 panels a night for 30 days that I would make it. That meant I had to get up early to get my regular work done, then at noon I would start production on the panels. By the time I racked the 25th panel it was midnight. Luckily I had Michael Chrisman as great assistant. For thirty straight days I worked this schedule and the gym opened on time. I was a mess by that time but the result was great.

Nine months into the Fremont location existence I was approached by Quadrant, my landlord. They notified me that Adobe cut a deal for the space and they wanted me out. I couldn’t believe it. So many people worked so hard to pull this thing off and now they want me gone? Long story short, I didn’t go easy. It got to the point that I pushed them so hard on the price that they were ready to park a bulldozer in front of the door and build around me. We finally worked it out and with the concrete barely out from under my fingernails I had to find another spot. That is why we ended up in Magnolia.

The day after we turned over the keys to the Fremont building they had big bulldozers and grinding machines devouring the gym. I stood on the bridge looking down in amazement as the demo crew made the gym disappear. It was like a giant crocodile devouring a wildebeest in a frenzy of starvation. I actually filmed the whole episode. I should dust that tape off and put in on the web. All I could think of is that one of the nicest gyms around is being engulfed by the jaws of construction death. I didn’t have any roses to put on the grave, but I sure felt like I had just been to a funeral. That was difficult.

But, now we have an even better gym, but I do miss the sail boats floating by and the clanking of the beer glasses after closing. Keep pulling.

Rich

HAVE WALL WILL TRAVEL

A part of the Vertical World business that not many people know about is the climbing wall building business. Over the years not even the staff was aware that we built climbing walls all over the country. It all started in 1989 when I was introduced to a concrete sculptor in Fremont by the name of Don Miles. The building where his shop was is still in Fremont. It is the Rocket Building for those who know Fremont. You can still see the artwork Don created from concrete on the outside of the building. I had the grand idea of using concrete on climbing walls. I didn’t have a clue on how to pull this off but I couldn’t let it go. At that time no one had ever made a climbing wall with a concrete surface. I was determined to figure it out and I did so with Don’s help. He had no idea what climbing was about. He thought I was nuts but was willing to work with me any way. I love to work with my hands so I spent many of hours screwing up test panels with concrete surfaces. Don was a wacky combination of construction dude mixed with freaky right brain artist guy. He was about 5’ 6” with arms the size of my legs. He was a body builder and could hold a hawk full of concrete for 12 hours a day. When he wasn’t happy I usually made myself scarce. No use in tangling with a Pit Bull holding a sharp trowel and twenty pounds of concrete. He was actually a very nice guy and when I learned that he passed away from cancer a few years ago I felt very sad. I still like to walk by the old shop in Fremont and run my hands over his work on the side of the building. It brings back some good old memories.

O.K., back to the theme of this blog. I developed the wall building business over the years and did quite well with the venture. I worked with some interesting people including Steve Grossman and Jim McCarthy. We did walls all over the country, including Hawaii, Alaska, Texas and Manhattan to name a few spots. It was a lot of hard work but there was a lot of adventure included in those trips. Jim worked with me for many years (by the way Jim put together the Seattle gym and the Bremerton gym) and most of the memories I had of the trips with him were some of the crazy adventures we set out on during the jobs. We always scheduled enough time to check out the local scenery. Sometimes we would end up in parts of the country that you couldn’t imagine. When we did a job in Mustang, OK we set out to find a climbing area in Arkansas. We ended up in a Deliverance type area in the Ozarks above Fayetteville. We had no idea what we were getting ourselves into but that’s what makes it interesting. After chasing many dirt roads and confusing the locals with our requests for directions to a climbing area we finally found the general area and thrashed our way through a lot a bush and ticks to find a small funky bolted climbing crag. We did a few routes and chalked it up to an adventure, even though the climbing was nothing to brag about. I got a charge out of the weird little shacks tucked away up in the hills and some of the bizarre locals. It was like out of a movie, but the only thing difference was that there was no banjo echoing through the woods. The ticks were a pain in the ass, literally. We made our way back to Fayetteville that night and got drunk with some college students in the local bar. What a contrast.

I remember asking some of the students if they ever headed up the direction where we climbed. They looked at me like I was an alien. They would have never thought of venturing up in the woods in the Ozarks. Interesting, but that’s what I loved about traveling with Jim. He was always game for some funky adventure that would toss us a few curve balls.

I got a ton of these traveling type stories that I will share with you. But in the mean time I got to tell you about a new hiking shoe that I got turned on to today. The brand is Oboz. They are really cool. They feel really good and they look good. Check them out at obozfootwear.com. I believe they are available at some local shops including REI. By the way, I am not connected to this company. I just like checking out the new stuff. More stories coming soon. Keep pulling.

Rich

A WHIRLWIND TRIP

Last week I had a busy few days flying around checking out some friends and gyms in Spokane and Ogden, UT. Last Thursday I flew over to visit Timon Beham, owner of the Wild Walls rock gym. I hadn’t been in Spokane for over 10 years so I thought it appropriate to check in on the scene. Wild Walls has been around for many years and Timon is a class act and I always enjoy his company. I was there for only a few hours, so we checked out the gym, had lunch downtown, and went to Gonzaga so I could get a t-shirt. I have this habit of picking up college shirts where ever I go. We ended up hanging out at the gym, but neither of us was interested in putting on the rock shoes. All I had with me was a plane ticket and my sunglasses. Before I flew over I mentioned to him that played guitar a bit and he mentioned that he played in a band for a few years. So, he rigged up the office with a couple of amps and guitars and we had a little jam session. What he didn’t mention was that he could rip on the axe like I haven’t seen in years. The guy is a pro. He was light years ahead of me. All I could do is keep asking, “how did you do that – show me – please”.

I had to be back in Seattle that night so Timon drove me to the airport and the whole way we just talked about music. What I really got out of the trip to Spokane was a great guitar lesson. The t-shirt is cool, but Gonzaga got bounced from the first round of the tournament.

I got a few hours sleep and headed for the airport in the morning to fly down to Salt Lake City to visit Dustin Buckthal, owner of the Front climbing gym. He and I were looking at possibilities of putting a gym in at Ogden, a few clicks up the highway from SLC. We were hanging out at his place in the afternoon when John Stack walked in with a bottle of single malt Jameson, and his pit bull named Chile. I thought to myself “this is going to be interesting”. If you haven’t ever met John Stack, well let me put it this way, when you do, you won’t ever forget that you met him. In his hey-day John was a world class climber with the personality to go with it. I found him great to be around and never a dull moment. It was a bit early to be downing a bottle of whiskey, but I was game. We worked on that for a while then headed out for some Sushi. Of course finding good Sushi in SLC is a chore. Doing a lot of fun things in SLC is a chore. They make you buy a membership to a bar before you can have a drink. Here is a little advice – never order well drinks in Utah. They have that stuff measured so tight that a squirrel couldn’t get a buzz of a shot. That’s why John shows up with his own stash. Any way, since the pump was primed we had to continue on with so-so sushi and a good helping of Sake. We were feeling mighty fine by that time so we decided to head home to take care of the Jameson. We basically sat around determined to finish of the bottle, but I was suppose to be over at Bob Richards house that night, since Dustin didn’t have an extra bed. At around midnight, Dustin bailed, so it was up to John and me to finish the job. It got pretty darn late, or early, depending on how you see it, when we finally decided to wrap it up. We did finish the bottle though. I was in not shape to drive over the Bob’s house, and John was in no shape to go anywhere, so we claimed our spots with John on the love seat and me on the couch.

It wasn’t long before I was out cold, but something felt really weird that woke me up. There was this pressure on my chest. I didn’t know what was going on. I opened my eyes and I was staring right into the eyes of Chile the pit bull. He had crawled up on top of me and decided I was the best place in the whole damn house to get comfortable. That was a first for me. So I’m trying to process how I am going to kick a pit bull off of me with out getting him pissed off. He was actually pretty cool about it, although he did resist a bit and let it be known he was not happy.

In the morning we all were trying to get our bearings, and Chile the pit bull was trying to get some last minute snuggle time with me, but we finally got on the road to Ogden to do what we were suppose to do. Ogden is an interesting story. There has been a big effort to turn Ogden into an Out-Door business capital. From what I see I believe they will pull it off. Already they have big players moving in such as Amer Corp, which owns Salomon, and Arteryx. Development is going crazy, and even Steve Wynn put money into a hotel in the downtown area. We met the people we were suppose to meet and I took my hang over and great ideas to the airport. I was glad to get back home that night. I was beat and didn’t wake up until about 10:00 the next morning. That will do me for a while. There certainly is no lack of characters and opportunities in this industry. Keep pulling.

Rich

DAYCARE–IN THE EARLY YEARS

There were many responsibilities to working behind the counter in the early years at the Vertical Club. You needed skills on all levels, including a watchful eye on kids that the fathers would bring in while they were suppose to be grocery shopping. More than a few times a dad would run into the gym with a with a toddler in tow and quickly change into his shoes stating that he only had a few moments to spare before the wife discovers his true intent on “Honey, let me do the shopping this time”. Sometimes the kid was young enough that he could be strapped into the carrier and towed around the gym for the ten minute climbing fix. Other times it was a desperate plea to me or whomever was working behind the counter to keep a quick eye on Joey while dad does a few laps on the wall. I always got a kick out this whole scene, and I actually liked entertaining junior for a few moments. It was manageable back then. One time a particular Dad, whose name I will keep secret, came in with his 3 year old boy. I was hanging out with the kid as he was clambering all over the old skanky couch we had in the main area. It served as a great trampoline for the young –not so calm youngster. I was just standing there watching him play around, then all of a sudden he got up on the top section of the couch, took and big jump, and a bounce on the oversized cushion. He did this beautiful swan dive, head first, right on to the concrete floor. It sounded like a big watermelon bouncing off the floor. Everyone looked around to see what happened and there I am standing with a splattered kid on the floor. I was a bit shocked and mortified. Dad came running over and gave me comfort that the squirt just does things like that once in a while. The kid screamed for about one minute and then he was off running like nothing happened. Whew! Got out of that one with out too much damage. Of course I had to ask how
Dad was going to explain that big red knot on his kid’s head. I can’t remember the exact alibi, but it had nothing to do with being at the climbing gym.

Other duties included covering for the guy who wasn’t suppose to be at the gym. You know how it is at the local tavern? You get a call from the significant other asking “is John down there hanging out again?” Of course I was given strict instructions to deny ever seeing him near the gym that night. I can’t count how many marriages have crumbled under the weight of obsessive climbing behavior.

Of course there was the duty of the counselor. When your are stuck behind the counter with no escape, you are pretty much the only stationary source for the lonely heart, or bereaved spouse, to let you know all the details that you never wanted to know about. One time I was in agony listening to someone go on and on about their relationship problems. I didn’t want to be rude so I reached into my pocket and dialed the gym phone number from my cell phone. The person had no idea that I was conniving an escape from his rant. The phone rang and I asked to be excused while I got the phone. I then pretended to have a conversation about all the membership options, with no-one on the other end of the line. I put on a pretty good act and finally the guy got bored and went back to climbing.

Looking back I guess I can say that there weren’t too many boring moments while working the counter. There were a lot of chuckles and a lot of richness in the characters that came through the doors. I don’t think I can get a way with the day-care tactics used back in the day, but I still see the wide eyed Dad trying to sneak a few minutes in on the wall, when he isn’t suppose to. Keep pulling.

Rich

PERCEPTION

I know that I mentioned this before, but every morning I take a glance from a book titled: Offerings - Buddhist Wisdom for Every Day. I don’t want to give the impression that I am a Buddhist, but I do appreciate some of the wisdom that comes from the Buddhist philosophy.

The offering that I read today is; ” Whether we regard our situation as heaven or as hell depends on our perception” - Pema Chodron.

Not only can we apply this to our daily lives, but I can remember doing some run-out slab route with 1/4 bolts that rattled around when I clipped. I had a choice of believing that I was going cheese grate my way down to my belayer, or believing that this was a great challenge and I was going to pinch way way up no matter what. I chose the latter. Keep pulling.

Rich

RETAIL SUCKS

Back in 1990 when we had a pro-shop in at the V-Club doing retail was a rather vibrant business. We didn’t know what the heck we were doing, but we sold a lot of shoes and gear. There were a few places in town that sold the goods such as Swallows nest, Marmot and REI. The market was small but selling a pair of shoes for $130.00 was the norm. The part of it that I enjoyed was the interaction with the customer and learning about the product. In 2008 we will do about half the sales that we did in 1990. Think of that. We were moving twice as much goods at that dusty-back-by-tracks-glued on rocks gym as from the current Seattle gym with three times the membership. Why? I saw a big shift when retail went internet in around ’98 or ‘99. I remember when a group of investors were strutting through the OR show at that time claiming they were going to start up this incredible internet retail site called Planetoutdoors.com. There were a few others in the mix that were going to move boat-loads of outdoor gear and make a fortune. A few of my friends and I were sitting around trying to figure it out. We knew no matter what you did in the climbing market, it was only going to grow a certain amount of points per year. So, you throw in a bunch of new internet retail businesses trying to move the same goods that have been in the pipeline for years and then what? What you get is a lot of players trying to move the same amount of goods. The pie didn’t get any bigger. We just had more people trying to get a slice out of the pie. Just because you open a store does not mean you are creating more customers. One classic example of how the internet tanked a good company, or I should say the company let the internet tank their company, is the case of Boreal. That was a great shoe company that had a big share of the market. They didn’t control the grey market in Europe, meaning that people would go to the pro-shop, use up a bunch of staff time and size up their shoe, then go home and order the shoe on-line from Spain. Cheezy I know, but some people have no class. As a result we couldn’t sell the Boreal shoe any more. Then came the glorious days of bullshit rock shoes that had a lifespan of about 20 routes, i.e. Madrock. That helped propel the market into the sub-par quality frenzy, and the market was flooded with $80.00 shoes. What people didn’t get is – you get what you pay for. Now we have a bunch of pro-shops and internet retailers who aren’t making much on the gear they are selling, and everyone has to sell twice as many shoes to get the same margin that we got back in ’90. That’s the free market at work, but there is an element to this that I find bewildering. It is the same mentality as shopping at Walmart. You look for the best deal and the cheapest deal and by doing so you drive quality and loyalty into the ground. The Walmart shopper couldn’t care less if they buy crap from china, and put their neighbor out of work, as long as they save that $10.00 and drive home in their $40,000.00 SUV. Look what happened to the airline industry. If everyone would chill out and quit making decisions based on a $20.00 difference in airfare we wouldn’t be cramming ourselves into poorly serviced airlines with a bag of peanuts. There is nothing wrong with being thrifty, but there is a point to where it becomes a syndrome of “eating your young”. I have heard climbers say “I never pay retail for my stuff”. Well dude – if everyone thought like that you wouldn’t have a job. I guess everyone else is pulling your caboose down the tracks for you. In the end it doesn’t really matter if retail sucks. We really make our living from good routes and customers who enjoy the sport of rock climbing. And that is fun. Keep pulling.

Rich

THE STRUGGLES

I had a moment lately when I was gazing my navel just thinking to myself what would happen if I woke in the middle of the night and my place was on fire and I had only a few seconds to get the heck out. What single item would I grab that would have more meaning than anything else, besides my family, that I couldn’t imagine losing? That item is my mid life purchase, which is a G & L ASAT Classic guitar that I had custom made for me a couple of years ago. G & L stands for George and Leo. Leo is Leo Fender, of the Fender guitar fame. He sold the Fender guitar company to CBS in 1964. He had a non-compete clause so he couldn’t make guitars for ten years. Once his time was up he and George, his former business manager, started up their own guitar company called G & L. The ASAT is the same design as the Telecaster. The guitar has one of the most beautiful sunburst finishes, rubbed down with gun oil, with a special trim to give it a nice highlight. If I was standing outside just in my underwear watching my place burn down I would be alright as long as I was holding my G & L. Let me tell you how I got to the point where I felt I had to get a guitar made to my specs. A few years ago I was visiting Dan, my co-founder in the business, and I noticed his guitars in the living room. All those years working together and I never picked up on the fact that he even owned a guitar. At that point it had been about twenty years since I spent any time on the axe, but I was intrigued. I picked up one of his guitars and the next thing I know we are playing Sweet Home Alabama by Lynyrd Skynyrd. Not a song that I normally would listen to but fun as heck to play along with someone after a twenty year hiatus. Donna, Dan’s wife, belted out some fine vocals and then I found out that she was learning to play the drums. Wow, now that kicked off an idea. How about if we got together in the basement for a run at some sloppy garage band rock-n-roll? We got together for a few sessions and then I was hooked. After twenty years of knowing Dan and spending all those years working together, and now we were jammin away on camero rock and having a few beers. Now that is fun. I must say, the first few sessions sounded like a train wreck. Sometimes we would look at each other after a song wondering what the hell we just played. After a few months we had a new addition to the band. Dave Haavik came in as our new bass player. Dave worked for us 18 years ago and is now the Petzl rep. He is almost good enough to where we can dress him up like Bootsy Collins. It has been over a year now of hammering out some basic covers and even working out a few originals, and now we are ready for the big time, or maybe a drunken membership party at the V Club. We even came up with a name for the band. The Struggles. The name represents an automatic disclaimer for when we get to that point when we play in front of someone. Jammin with old friends and having fun doing it. It can’t get any better. Keep pulling.

Rich

THE TEAM VC

One of the areas of the business that I have grown to appreciate and personally enjoy is the youth climbing team. Over the years this team has grown from a scraggly bunch of kids who got together a couple of times a week just to hang together and climb, to a national force. The fabric that holds the team concept together is USAC (U.S. A. Climbing). Go to http://www.usaclimbing.net/ for more info. This is a national organization that sets up the system for sanctioned competitions and a point system to reach a national championship. The Vertical World Team, (some of us like to call it Team VC for nostalgic reasons) has grown into a force to be reckoned with. Between the four gyms there are over 40 kids climbing at all different levels. Just recently we sent over 20 kids to the nationals in Boulder, CO. During the past several years the team has either placed 1st or 2nd in overall in point standings. We are noted as one of the most successful teams in the U.S. From what I have seen, the reasons for the success fall on the people involved. We have an incredible coach in Tyson Schoene, some very supportive parents, a group of kids that are passionate about the sport, and staff that really gets behind the program. I remember when Tyson was a scrawny little squirt climbing in the old VC on Elliot Ave. Now he is known as one of the top coaches in the country. He has put legitimacy into this program with goals and organized workouts. During the last few years while my son was climbing on the team I would travel to the comps just for kicks. When the team would march out for previews with their red team shirts, team pants, team bags, and team hoodies, they had a dominating presence. I’m surprised they didn’t have team haircuts. I loved hearing comments from parents from other regions complaining about how VW team was too large and how they would dominate the comps. The parents are very important to the success of the team also. What I like about the parents of this sport is that they don’t tend to be like little league parents that want to get their nose into everything and get agro at coaches and judges if things don’t go perfectly for junior. I have really enjoyed getting to know the parents during the past few years. The overall scene of youth climbing is very positive and I only see bigger and better things for them in the future. Especially if Coach T keeps gunning for the top. My only concern is that he’ll start breeding those crazy Chihuahuas. Then we got a mess. Keep pulling.

Rich

B.H. (Before Handholds)

We are very accustomed to a large variety of hand-holds, taped routes, and a forum for giving an opinion on the latest sandbag. That world did not always exist, of course. In 1987 when we were starting the first rock gym in the country there were no such things as hand-holds. We had to use rocks brought in from our buddies that they picked up on their latest climbing trip. Hand-holds didn’t come about until late ’88. Metolius was the only source for holds at that time. When we would get a new batch of rocks we would grab a batch of epoxy glue and slap them up on the brick walls or glue them into routered sections on the plywood walls. Take a close look at the history wall in the Seattle gym. The grey wall in the work out area is the first climbing wall ever built in a rock gym in the U.S. You will notice that it does have hand-holds on it. Those were installed after the Vertical Club had been in business for more than a year. We had to do a bit of retro fitting. The scene back then was a climber standing around throwing gravel stones at the intended holds to be used on a route. Once the holds were memorized then someone would try the route. No one ever heard of taping a route. That didn’t actually take hold until about ’92. I remember trying to get the folks in Redmond to try out the new way of marking routes. That didn’t go over that well. What a weird idea! Putting colored tape on the walls to designate a route? Fast forward 20 years later. There’s a hand hold company in just about every hot shot climber’s garage and they are the best and latest shapes and better than any body else’s. Go shopping for hand-holds at the Outdoor Retailer show in SLC sometime, or just Google climbing holds and check out the vast landscape of the latest and coolest holds available. It will make your mind spin. There is a significant industry of climbing wall builders and hand-hold manufacturers, and to think that we were gluing rocks on the walls back in ’87. That is almost like going from the era of radio to introduction of television. One big consequence of this great evolution in the industry is the loss of the “classic route”. These are the routes that would always be there since they could not be moved. If you go to the U of W climbing rock you will always be able to try out classic routes that have been there for over 25 years. You also see it at the cliffs, especially at Smith Rocks. I remember some of my friends would always get in a run at Churning in the Wake. It didn’t matter if they had done it 100 times. They loved the route and enjoyed doing it. That used to be the case in the gym back before hand-holds were introduced. I wonder if we can bring back the “classic route” scene in a few sections of the gym? Let’s glue some rocks on the walls and see what happens. What do you think? Keep pulling.

Rich