Route setting is not about perfection, but a research of emotion. We always have to remember why we are setting. I don’t set just to put holds on the wall. I set to tell a story.
Climbing is often depicted as an individual pursuit—the climber versus the rock—yet, unless you’re out there naked free-soloing every day, that doesn’t tell the full story.
When you face your anti-style, or any type of climbing for that matter, success should not be measured in sends, but in becoming a better climber.
With this project there was times where the goal seemed absolutely irrelevant and the process was all that mattered.
The beauty of deep water soloing is that it’s such a free form of climbing. You’re out there exploring, and feel like a kid again, climbing up a tree. It’s very playful, spontaneous, and creative.
Whether you’re stuck at home or in a van, in challenging times like these, it’s good to reflect on why we love the sport.
Through the process you learn powerful life lessons: try harder, be positive, believe in yourself, never give up.
This was the longest journey of my life. From my house in Saint Petersburg, Russia, I drove 2,500 km (1,500 miles) to Ticino, Switzerland…
As the days went by, my skin degraded—getting softer, thrashed. The combination of Red Rock, Nevada’s dry desert air and abrasive sandstone grated off layer after layer until little was left.
On the way, we made a fateful pit stop at the supermarket. While Ken and I were distracted by his camera, we didn’t realize the car was broken into, and my climbing pack and camera gear were stolen.