Rock and River
Last weekend, my friends Sara and Lindsay and I woke up early, packed a few backpacks and a cooler and drove a couple hours west to Reimer’s Ranch in Dripping Springs, Texas.
I spent some time at Reimer’s when I lived in Austin, trail running. It wasn’t until this past year that I learned it was a Central Texas climbing hot spot, and the hike in to its sport routes was like discovering a whole new world. I couldn’t believe this gem of limestone walls and cypress tree stands and mossy creeks had been just a few steps away when I was doing laps on the upper level of the park after college.
Despite the serious hours I’ve spent climbing in the past year (seriously, I almost don’t want to know), I had yet to climb outdoors on real rock. And honestly, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I’d heard it would be humbling, so I was ready for that — no matter how good the holds are outside, the routes aren’t lit up in bright colors, letting you know exactly where your next move is and giving you a good idea of what it will feel like once you’re there. I’d been told climbing outdoors was a test of patience, endurance, and commitment — and as someone who still gets nervous lead climbing inside, I honestly wasn’t sure how the day would go mentally.
As it turns out, all those things were true — but in the best way possible. We opted to stick to low grades, as it was Lindsay’s and mine first go outdoors; and honestly, I’d figured on top-roping a lot of the day just to get a feel for things. We chose a short 5.6 route on Zoe’s Wall for our first climb of the day, though; and almost in an out-of-body way, I heard myself say, “I’ll lead it.”
Slowly but surely, with a lot of nervous laughter, I inched my way up and clipped the chains. I marveled at the differences and similarities — how foreign it felt, but also how much more capable I was than I’d expected — and instantly understood how you get hooked on this. Like, more so than I already am.
As it turns out, we led everything we climbed, all day. We conservatively upped our grades, me topping out at a thin 5.9-, Linds attempting and Sara sending a 5.9+ by the day’s end. While I allowed myself to take pretty liberally, I was deeply satisfied to flash a couple 5.8 routes — including the last of the day, which was a bouldery start to some thin face climbing and finished in a bit of a dihedral.
Indoors, speed is key — almost every friend I’ve climbed with has urged me that if I would climb a little quicker, I wouldn’t get so easily pumped out or in my head. But I found that outdoors, patience trumped it. My hours spent hesitating on perfectly good plastic in the gym had prepared me for picking my way up rock, slowly choosing my feet and feeling around for handholds, without getting frustrated. A few times, I caught myself just marveling in the wonder of what we were actually doing. I’d turn and spot the river below and feel the limestone under my fingertips and just marvel at the fact that I was here, on this wall, doing something so ridiculous and so fun.
After we’d had our fill, we hiked back up to the car, had a parking lot picnic, and grabbed our swimsuits. We wandered back down the same trail, taking a left instead of right at a fork in the path, and popped out at the Pedernales River a few minutes later just as the afternoon sun was sinking. One by one — first Sara, then me, then Linds — we took the plunge into the cold water, gasping as we came up and swimming for the other side. We skipped rocks and sat and talked about the best and hardest things in our lives right now. We wrung out our hair, headed back up the trail, threw on t-shirts, and went and got Mexican food on the way home. Basically, we had a perfect day.
Writing this made me remember another I wrote at the start of this year — it really says everything I would say at this point. Climbing at Reimer’s reminded me of all those things. Basically, I love my life really deeply and God gives good gifts and I’m thankful and I hope, whatever a perfect day looks like for you, October held one of em for you.
