Falling and Forgetting
- August 2012
- Climb
Hi Steph. My name is Mary, I admire your boldness and serenity you show on the wall. I started lead climbing a few weeks ago after a few months of just top roping. As you well know I am going back on my ratings with leading , just getting comfortable . Yesterday I took my first big fall on a 9 , it was about a 30 foot fall, landing only a few feet from the ground. I kept leading after but for the most part my fear is blocking my ability to actually forget about falling and just climb. It is something I really cherish as a part of my life and I hope to do well in. Thank you for sharing your stories and helping others along the way !
Ps.. I’m midway through High Infatuation and have half the book highlighted !
Hi Mary,
It’s definitely hard to get back on the horse when you’ve had a close call, an accident or an injury. I am wondering why you came so close to the ground. Was the climb really run-out, or did your belayer give you too much slack?
I climb with a lot of different people, and I notice that it does affect your confidence. My friend Lisa has instilled in me a habit of standing to the side and watching people belay others before walking up and asking them for a belay myself.
Recently I saw a very good climber in Rifle using a Grigri and almost never putting his hand on the brake end of the rope while his partner was both climbing and hanging. Obviously it was working okay, but to me that is an unacceptable method when holding someone else’s life in your hands–you should actually use your hands. Mechanics do fail, obviously, and there’s no reason not to hold the brake end of the rope loosely even when the Grigri is engaged.
I also see way too many climbers belaying with the “sport loop.” This is where the belayer allows a big loop of rope to sit on the ground, while the climber is leading. Apparently the idea is that the leader will never get short-roped when going to clip, and the sport loop will contribute to a soft catch in the event of a fall. I also see light belayers jumping up when their heavier leader falls, with the result that the leader comes close to the ground.
If you are lighter than the leader, you will get pulled up naturally, and it will be a plenty soft catch: more important is keeping the person off the ground if they’re not way high up. In fact, if you are much lighter than the leader (a scenario I have a lot of personal experience with), you should be stationed directly below the first bolt or piece of gear in case of a fall, as you will get yanked way up and forward if you are standing back, which could add up to the leader hitting the ground. If you are heavier than the leader, you can step forward in one smooth motion as they fall, and the fall will be both dynamic and controlled. It used to be the cardinal rule of climbing was “the leader must not fall.” Nowadays my cardinal rule is “no one should be hitting the ground.”
An attentive and motivated belayer does not need a sport loop to throw out slack immediately for a clip, and unless the leader is much lighter than the belayer, the natural force of the fall will create enough of a soft catch and should not be added to, especially if the leader is close to the ground.
A few weeks ago, a belayer next to me was belaying with the biggest sport loop I’ve ever seen. I had the urge to say something to him, but didn’t want to be that annoying rude person who tells strangers what to do and who overreacts at other people’s methods because they are different. So I just watched and worried. Ten minutes later, the leader fell from thirty feet up, with the bolt at his WAIST, and hit the ground, but fortunately did not get hurt. I should have said something.
So I’ve learned that you can see a lot about people’s belay prowess, or lack thereof, just by observing for a little bit. When you are climbing with someone you trust, who belays as though it’s the most important thing in their life while you are climbing (as it should be), you will find it dramatically affects your confidence on lead.
Also, it does just take time. When you’ve had a close call and had your confidence shaken, it often takes a long time to gradually get past it, mentally. But you will.
Steph
Steph – fantastic article and points. I took a lead fall early on in my climbing, which was in large part the result of a bad belay partner poorly “mentoring” me through a lead he should not have recommended/insisted for a beginner. As a result, I sustained a very serious concussion. I’m fortunately recovered now and during recovery I had a lot of time to reflect on why went wrong. I learned a lot. Needless to say, I no longer climb with that person. Mary – ditch the partner if you have any hesitation. It’s not worth a serious injury. There are lots of people out there who would make for a safe belay partner!
Still, for me, it was very difficult to try leading again after my injury and to this day, I will not lead that grade. It also generally affected by fear level when climbing, even when following (single pitch top rope is totally fine). Over time, I was able to lead again, but only simple climbs. After a lot of frustration and knowing I am a better climber than my fear is allowing me to be, I decided to give hypnotherapy a try. I am a skeptic, but I figured if it helped, why not. The good news is as a result of my session, my fear of falling has gone back down to a healthy respect for heights and safety rather than irrational paralysis.
Good luck getting back in the game Mary!
Steph,
Another great response. I appreciate your perspective on some of the atrocious belay practices found at the crag. Might I also take a second to plug Arno Ligner? I’ve recently found his methodology/stance toward climbing very helpful in the “gradually get past it, mentally” category.
Several years ago I watched my girlfriend, Melinda, catch her first lead fall. My buddy Adam was on “an easy 5.7 warmup”. The bolts were close together, so by the time he was clipping the third he was not terribly far off the ground. After bolt two things got slabby with sketchy feet. Adam’s reaction was to try to clip early. The impulse was that clipping would make him safe again, so the earlier the better, right? Except that meant he was pulling out a lot more slack than had he tried to move to the bolt. He missed his first attempt to clip, readjusted, then his feet blew. Since the climb was not quite vertical his feet drug and he flipped ass over tea kettle. He came to a stop upside down with his head a couple of feet from the deck. More slack would have been a catastrophe.
We all lost our lead head that day. Climbing was suddenly much more serious and scary. For my part I’ve muddled through and even got back to leading. But I haven’t done it often, and when I do I’m frequently gripped with fear. A recent class hosted by Arno Ligner had a huge positive effect, and I would submit that he has very useful and sensible advice for managing fear. I think it might be the type of thing to help climbers like Mary (and er, myself).
Though it is not the totality of Ligner’s methodology (which he spells out in two books: The Rock Warrior’s Way, and Espresso Lessons from the Rock Warrior’s Way), learning to fall is central. If you are climbing hard you are going to fall. Ligner’s insight? You should become familiar with it, gain comfort with it, and actually become good at it. Rather than leave falling as the big unknown climbers try to avoid, Ligner encourages making falling an intentional part of training. Start unroped, 3 feet from the ground. Fall on TR. Fall below the bolt. Fall at the bolt. Fall above the bolt. Progressively become proficient at more and more advanced falls. Practice, practice, practice. You WILL be falling – train for it.
I am giving a brutal summary of something which I find incredibly insightful, so I hope some of the magic of this methodology comes through. The point is that you get more than simply familiarity with coming off the rock. You gain insight into risk, risk assessment, and risk management. You develop a skill for assessing fall potential and consequences. And that is a valuable tool. The fall is no longer something you try not to think about. You begin to assess climbs knowing what the falls on the climb are going to be like because you’ve had similar falls. You develop confidence for managing falls on climbs at or close to your level of experience and you gain recognition of those climbs that you are not yet ready for.
Anyway, I would highly recommend Arno’s books to you, Mary. His perspective provided me a method for breaking down the shaken confidence and a means to approach climbing with less fear.
Best to you both, Steph and Mary,
Duffy
Great article Steph!
Mary, I think you can use your experience to your advantage. Awareness of the consequences and the fear that goes with it can motivate you to prepare and make good decisions both on and off the climb. Perhaps this means leading different routes, training, or finding a different belayer.
Cheers and happy climbing!
Yes, my belayer is very trustworthy, there was just someone climbing under me too close so extra slack had to be taken so I wouldn’t fall. I knew enough that I wouldn’t deck, but it has defiantly taken an affect into getting back in the game ! Thank you for teh great advice 🙂
I am the belayer responsible for Mary’s long fall. In my defense, her fall would have only been a little over 15 feet if someone hadn’t been climbing a route directly underneath her. I ran to the wall and jumped up when I saw that she was about to swing into this guy’s back, resulting in her falling much farther than she anticipated. I took care to make sure that she wouldn’t deck, but it was a sketchy situation regardless.
None of these factors, however, excuse the fact that I should have just spoken up and told the other climber not to get on that route while Mary was on hers. As Steph said, you never want to be “that annoying rude person who tells strangers what to do,” but in most cases, such as this one, staying quiet and erring on the side of politeness could have resulted in serious injury, and it did result in Mary having a very long, frightening fall. As a belayer, it is your responsibility to protect the person you’re belaying, even if it means coming across as pushy or rude.
I say all this not to divert blame, but to stress what I learned from my mistake. Belaying is not just pulling rope through a device – it’s ensuring your climber’s safety in every aspect.
I’m lucky that even despite my mistake, Mary is dedicated enough to stick with it and continue to improve and push herself every day. And Mary, whenever you’re feeling ready to ease in to practicing falls, I’ll work with you any time and for as long as you need. Confidence is a very hard thing to attain, but I know you and I know that you’ll get there very soon.
Hi Rob and Mary! There are so many weird scenarios possible in climbing….after reading Mary’s comment, I was thinking also about traffic issues, and it looks like this was an extreme scenario of bad traffic results. It’s a tough situation: like we’ve said, it’s hard to speak up and risk rudeness. But when safety is the concern, it’s what has to happen. I know for myself, I don’t even like climbing routes that are too close to other routes at the same time. If I’m ready to go, and someone starts the route that has bolts 3 feet away from mine, I’ll just get derigged and wait until they’re done. It’s harder when you have to tell someone else not to climb, but I guess that’s sometimes the right action.
Glad you two are such good partners!!
🙂 Steph
Completely agree with Steph in the ideas exposed
🙂
Holy moly. I didn’t know what the heck was going on with so much slack out for belayers. I thought they were just inattentive. Little did I know it was deliberate. People have given me the sport loop when I’m at my first and second bolts, so much so that I’m certain to deck if I fall. What the crap!
I do not like the sport loop 🙁