One of my favorite things about rock climbing is that it gives people an opportunity to creatively interact with the soul of the Earth. The Earth is a massive rock flying through space around a ball of lethal and life-giving fire. This rock has a pleasantly crunchy shell, gooey inner bits, and a hazelnut surprise of solid iron. Earth is the rock we share and need. Over billions of years and in many dramatically different ways, Earth recycles and creates new forms of all its tiny pieces. Rock layers are preserved right under our feet, and in some lucky locations, we can see the past. These outcrops are the place of worship for rock climbers. We appreciate and savor the steep cliffs with just enough imperfections that only allow our bodies to climb it perfectly. We embrace and carefully caress with boar’s hair brushes chunky boulders that have been broken and separated from their stratigraphic family. Climbing outside and directly connecting with the Earth is amazing, and the artistic process of finding, cleaning, and interpreting rocks while preserving the environment for future generations to love is a journey that I will enjoy for the rest of my life.
In the midst of finishing my undergraduate education at Oberlin, training in preparation for my carbonate-crammed summer, and attempting to make plans for my immediate future, I manically rushed around Northeast Ohio trying to find new potential projects and revisiting an area testpiece. Despite having a limited amount of quality rock and annoying yet justly flouted access issues, many climbers in the region go crazy about finding first ascents, and sometimes, community members act in excessively secretive ways and/or lie about random rocks they found/climbed in the woods. There aren’t many people in the climbing community here that would go outside to boulder, and I truly think that almost every climbing area in the region could benefit from a stronger climbing presence, even the places where the park systems criminalize climbers. Trying to work with the parks is hopeless. While some climbers are abstaining from enjoying the natural wonders (that we are already paying for with our taxes) in order to establish a better relationship with a bureaucratic entity that probably won’t change their uninformed and idiotic opinions, there are amazing artists ruining our rock with spray paint. These wonderful people should definitely be rewarded for their thoughtful contributions.
Isn’t it great how this beautiful sandstone block now looks like any dumpster in East Cleveland? I know the Cleveland Metroparks are upset about this…wait no they just want to penalize and prevent climbers from having some fun on the rocks. They do a much better job with that. Seriously, if climbers were allowed to be an active presence in the parks, there would be fewer dumbasses trashing our dearly valued geological gifts. This destruction is what makes me more mad than the silly regulations regarding climbing access. After finding this “new rock” in Elyria, it would deeply hurt me to see it get tagged because it completely changes the rock texture and annihilates the natural aesthetic. I am not naïve, and I understand that thinking you are the first to find some climbable boulder in Northeast Ohio is usually ridiculous. Though depending on the difficulty, a new interpretation is always possible.
I am completely mesmerized by this boulder and would hate for it to see the same fate as The Pharaoh. The rock quality is amazing, and there are opportunities for hard, highball bouldering. There are some logistical problems at the moment because there are no trees or places for natural protection on top of the boulder to build an anchor for cleaning and working the lines. Though with some work, this will be one of the best boulders in all of Ohio.
Most climbing areas have routes or problems that are legendary. They are rarely repeated, difficult, and often the most aesthetic. For Chippewa Creek in Brecksville, it is the Gem. From what I have heard, it has been climbed by two people and goes around V11 (there is a right variation that is around V6, and despite what some people think, they have not climbed the true line that traverses left and tops out straight up on the faint arête). It is located in the river, and the landing occasionally gets washed away during flooding. After some caveman-style construction this spring, the landing is solid, and you can throw some pads down without having them float away. Despite my best efforts, I could not find a good way to get up the arête. Maybe I will be back with stronger fingers, smarter tactics, and more suitable conditions in the late fall or winter?
Over the course of three days down in Ohio’s Amish Country, I had so much fun visiting a secluded area, repeating some quality boulder problems, scrubbing new lines, trying existing projects, and eventually getting the first ascent of a (sick, rad, gnarly, intense, aesthetic, unbelievable, beautiful, perfect, classic) line. As it was my first time in this amazing area, my friend Damon, who was one of the first developers, was a great guide and provided immense support while we explored the densely forested and mosquito infested hills and valleys of Holmes County in search of quality boulders.
I had seen pictures of a very clean 45 degree wall in the Amish Country area years before I had been there. Damon said that it was about V8, and I had always been extremely excited to climb it. It was the only and best problem in my mind even before I had seen it in the flesh and lost flesh on its abrasive crimps. During my first day out, I got a sampling of all the different problems in the mostly unconcentrated area. I had finished my last hangboard workout the day before, and even climbing easy problems felt hard. So, it was a good opportunity to remove cobwebs, brush holds, and scrape moss. A few days later, we went out again and I managed to figure out all the moves of the 45 wall project. I couldn’t contain my nervous excitement, and on the send-go after pulling the crux, I stupidly forgot I could match my right hand to a good hold to setup for the topout sequence. I got anxious and threw half-heartedly to a hold that looked like a jug and fell. It was such a stupid mistake, but I was sure I had it on the next go. I rested and relaxed. On my next attempt, I felt perfect, and while pulling through the middle section, I ripped an important incut crimp right off the boulder. It was devastating, but I was still psyched and immediately tried to figure out another sequence. Nothing really worked as I was getting more tired, and I also broke off another small hold. I eventually lost motivation, but I did finish the day with a quick send of 80 Proof V7/8 over at Scotch Roof.
After finishing the last final exams of my undergraduate education, I drove down to Amish Country with a great of sense of relief and freedom. Damon couldn’t come with me, but I was determined to send the 45 wall problem and knew I would be okay without a spotter. After warming up, I started trying to figure a new sequence for the middle section of the project. A long deadpoint from high feet to an incut crimp worked well, but I needed to rehearse it efficiently because skin was a precious commodity on the fresh sandstone. I made some attempts, but I wasn’t sticking the move from the start and even started regressing on the opening moves. I finally decided that I might as well yell to grip the hold rather than from experiencing more pain while falling off the move, and it worked perfectly. I couldn’t believe what I had done, and I was filled with happiness as I kissed the maple tree on top of the boulder. I frantically texted Damon that I had sent it, and he had already thought of a perfect name for the problem, Rumspringa.
It felt great to get the first ascent of a boulder problem in my home state, and I still can’t believe that this beautiful sandstone block exists in Ohio. I have never seen another boulder like it in the whole state. Crimps on steep terrain is one of my favorite climbing styles, and this problem fit me well. The grade seems around V9, and a lower start on the right side that would link into Rumspringa still needs to be done. I am so thankful that I could participate in route development in Ohio and that I have great friends who share my excitement for climbing. This on top of graduating double-degree from Oberlin and having a loving and supportive family has made my spring beyond awesome. I am currently hanging out at the Camping Zoo in Arco, Italy and trying to find partners to go sport climbing. Though I will be traveling most of the summer, I will always miss Northeast Ohio.