ONE DAY LIKE THIS:
CASTLE ROCK, THE MAGOOS + MORE
ALL WORDS + PHOTOS BY DAVID LEE © 2020
Summer often seems to transition into fall in a single day. One day ends with the warmth from the good times that were had at the river, and the next day begins with a cool crisp breeze and the desire for a sweater. On this particular morning, our group gathered at Lake Merritt, cradling our cups of coffee and tea, while managing the emotions that first-time climbers tend to have.
We loaded into our cars and negotiated playlists, yielding to the driver’s impeccable taste. As Come On Home by Lijadu Sisters played, we pulled off and headed to Castle Rock State Park. Along the drive, we flipped through our climbing guide to review the grading systems and various climbing areas that are within the park. This was a trip to introduce new aspiring climbers to the world of outdoors climbing. We wound through the Santa Cruz mountain and stopped at a fruit stand just off the exit. The mangos weren’t ripe enough to devour straight away, so the strawberries that were standing on deck were called upon. They were the perfect snack for our parking lot shenanigans. The park maps were a bit confusing to navigate under COVID-19 protocols. Many of the trails were one way but lacked clear directions for hikers to follow with confidence. We took an unplanned route that led us on a short hike until we reached the Castle Rock climbing area within the park. Eager to reach our destination, we abandoned the main trail and hopped on a side quest that led us straight up the hill that sat before us with looming rock formations atop the ridge. With leaves and gravel slipping into our shoes, we crept to the top to find what we had sought to encounter.
Vaqueros sandstone formations welcomed us with open arms, and we ran into their bosom to behold the solace within. We wrapped around the giant rocks wide perimeter to the place where we decided to bunker down for the day. Climbing back into the comfort of the rock, we let out a series of meditative oms and reflected on those who came before us and occupied this space. Then, a few of us gathered around for a quick yoga sesh. We grounded our bare feet in the earth and transitioned through our flow...next to the latrines (not ideal, but the ground was flat).
Out of our group, three hopefuls desired to learn how to climb. I hoped to introduce them to the joys of slabby walls accompanied by the occasional, glorious hueco. We started with the basics--locking carabiners, belay devices, dynamic rope, and how to put on their harnesses. In order to access the anchors, I had to free climb up a 5.5 portion of the crag. There was a metal rod fixed into the rock along with a few sets of bolts to be used to set anchors. They were fixed pretty far back from the sloping top-out, which led to a fair amount of rope drag. I set a pretty lengthy quad for our group, then made my way back down to continue with the instruction. We practiced our figure 8 knots and safety checks as the rest of our group curiously surveyed. It was time to climb!
“The dispositions quickly changed for the cohort of newly ordained rock climbers after looking upon a rope that would hold their suspense and a knot that mirrored the nerves in their bellies. ”
The dispositions quickly changed for the cohort of newly ordained rock climbers after looking upon a rope that would hold their suspense and a knot that mirrored the nerves in their bellies. It was a quick realization that each person worked through in their own beautiful way. Our first climber dove straight in and climbed ferociously until they were 15 ft off the ground. Then they paused, looked down, made their first belay check-in, and proceeded after receiving the reassurance that they needed. Their next test was the repel down, abandoning natural fear responses to embrace the hold of a harness that lowered them to solid ground. “Lean back, straighten your legs, and walk down”, I directed as I watched the trust build until the emotions from the climb were able to be processed. The following climbs went similarly with the need to establish trust and feel safe coming at different points in the climb. For one nervous climber, I asked them to just sit in their harness for a while to see how it feels. I believe this a wonderful step in building confidence as a first-time climber.
I climbed indoors for years before I transitioned to climbing outdoors. I had to learn how to trust the gear, and also what not to trust. I learned how to speak up when I didn’t feel safe with my belay partner, and what I needed from them in order to trust them. I have since grown to love climbing outdoors, especially sport climbing. I have grown in my trust with my gear, and its ability to interrupt gravity’s pull. It’s amazing what a whipper can do. I have not ventured into trad climbing, though. I haven’t quite wrapped my head around trusting a 0.1 Camalot with my occasional slips and spills, but I am on the verge of building my trad rack...I live too close to Yosemite to not do so.
Pan the camera to the surveyors and you’ll find a selection of people questioning the same things-- “Can I trust this? Is this safe?” They are still very much engaged in the act of climbing as this is, for some, the very first time that they have seen or experienced rock climbing in such a way, nor the feasibility of a sport that they have not had access to. As the last climber lowered, full of elation, they expressed their feelings of being held and what they emotionally worked through while on the wall. They shouted, “I love you man, I trusted you with my life.” Real heroes give solid belays.
The crash pad was tossed across the hardened dirt, kicking up a plume of dust before resting at the base of the warm-up problem at The Magoo's. Here, we were able to get more technical with our climbing which revealed the climbing styles each person brought. With the comfort of a spotter and soft landing, climbers were able to find a different type of rhythm. “Shift your hips to the right and see how that feels.” It seems to always be in the hips.
The sun snuck its beams through the tree leaves, spilling its molten orange light onto the sedimentary rock. We sat atop The Magoo's honoring our ancestors in the joy of the moment. With bare feet and chalked hands, we inhaled our day while exhaling our doubts. We discussed plans for our next climbing day as I looked onto faces that held the same captivation that I felt the first time my hands cried out for reprieve and in jubilation. My hands longed to return to the rock that they held in their grasp and that the rock would continue to hold me.
We gathered our belongings and skipped down the trail back towards our cars. The drive back was silent, but I could hear the exclamation from the day, still. I could hear the oms and the overcoming. I could feel the resolve and resolution. It was an introduction to something that means the world to so many people, and it was a day to overcome the barriers that prevent some from experiencing the great sport of outdoor rock climbing.
About the Author:
David Lee is an exceptionally talented photographer based in Oakland, CA.