My Best Day Climbing , And I Didn’t Even Get Pumped
By Michelle Hurni
For me, climbing has always been about enjoying the outdoors, pushing myself to train harder, climb harder, and at the same time, not take it all too seriously. For ten years, climbing was all about me. Nothing interfered with training or an impromptu climbing adventure. Then, my focused changed and for the past twelve years, it hasn’t been about me at all.
Even while competing at a National and World Cup level, I taught climbing clinics all over the country. Those clinics evolved into private coaching, and then team coaching. My first private coaching was with Erin Axtell. I got to climb with this amazing young girl at local Colorado areas, including Jurassic Park, the Monastery, and Prospect Mountain. The training, and climbing, was intense, and I pushed Erin just as hard as I pushed myself.
One of the lessons I learned while competing was “never let go”. That attitude got me through some hairy runouts, pumped out of my mind, and to the top of tough climbs during competitions. A wise coach taught me no matter how pumped you are, you can still hold on.
My first question when one of my climbers falls is always “why did you fall?” They know in my book, there really is no excuse. Too pumped? You should have rested along the way. Foot slipped? You didn’t have enough pressure on your feet. I passed along that philosophy to many climbers over the years, yet, there is a point in coaching where you never know if those lessons are taking hold.
Who would have thought my best day climbing would come while I am sitting inside my house, writing about skateboarding? When the phone interrupts, it’s Erin. Now a close friend and climbing partner, Erin moved from competing at a Junior World Cup level, graduated from college, moved to Alaska as a glacier guide, and then returned to Estes Park to work with children.
She is at Jurassic Park, and just finished climbing Andrology (5.11d). She is calling to tell me she was thinking of me when she was just a few holds from the anchor. “I was so pumped, but I knew you would be disappointed if I fell at that point,” even though the connection was spotty, her message was clear. “I could just hear you say ‘don’t let go.’ I hung out on a little hold and shook out and recovered enough to clip the anchors. I knew you wouldn’t be happy if I fell so close to the top.”
Sitting at my desk, it was like I was beside her at the base of the climb, high above Estes Park. At that point I knew, even if sometimes it didn’t seem like I was getting through, even if it seemed like I was talking to thin air, my words could make a difference. And sometimes, you won’t know you’ve made an impact until years later.