The Newbie

I stand amongst the over-prepped bags settled by my front door and put a hand to my face and thought, “I have no idea what I’m doing”.

Meg Johnson, the author, trying hard as always. Photo: Cole Hardwick.

The newbie. I had never climbed real rock before, let alone gone camping. My bank of climbing knowledge resided in going to random indoor gyms on the east coast by myself and grabbing onto bubble-gum holds with techno music in the background.

Similar to the anticipation for a surf trip, except to the mountains. My heart was coming out of my chest. The excitement factor was right up there with nervousness; those feelings are part of the high we get from trying something brand new.

Hannah, Aaron, and Cole pulled up to my house right before dusk with a truck full of gear for the long weekend. We would be driving to North Carolina into the night. These people were new; I had no idea who they were on an intimate level. Two eight-hour-long car rides and an epic trip I will remember the rest of my life would soon change that.

Sweet Carolina. Photo: Cole Hardwick

We drive up Grandfather mountain at midnight with the windows down and the smell of wet rock and coniferous forest filled my hot-humid Florida nostrils. I had to borrow everything. I was like that kid at school who forgot to bring lunch. Tent, sleeping bag, harness, helmet..everything.

The following morning we hike the approach up to Ship Rock. I try to laugh a lot, hiding how anxious I was to complete my first climb. We arrive at "the crag" and I watch as all the others organized gear and talked. Eric and Owen begin trad climbing to the anchors/bolts. I watch in fascination as they place the cams jingling on their waistlines into the small cracks on the mountain’s exposed face. After watching several people climb, I'm getting more excited. “Are you ready for your first climb?!”, Eric said. I take a deep inhale and exhale, “Hell yeah I am”. I put on my harness and learned how to make my first figure 8 knot. Everything is so brand new and there is so much information and lingo to learn, but I convince myself that I have to start somewhere..that the only way from here is up.

I begin climbing the route and the first thing I notice are my fingers on the rock. There is a vibration on the surface, from its texture to its quartz-lined zebra stripes. Everything is sharp and alive.

In the movies, they always tell the person at the top of whatever it is to not look down—but when you’re up high that’s all you want to do. As I make it up 30 feet I find a comfortable hold and look out on the vastness of the Blue Ridge mountains and begin to realize that Dorthy isn’t in an indoor gym anymore. There is no ceiling or A/C to coddle me into getting up the wall, it is Mother Earth in all her glory and the wind and scents hitting you square in the face. I am concentrating on my breath now more than ever at this moment. I look down at Eric belaying me and tell him that I am scared. “You have to trust the gear!”, he yelled back up to me. “Let go and hang”, he said.

He is insane, I thought to myself. No f**ing way am I letting go. Trying to control the situation created so much apprehension, second-guessing, angst, and unsteadiness built up by my little body until trusting and letting go was the only option. I let go. I leaned back with my feet on the wall. I am safe. I laugh.

Photos by Cole Hardwick.

I realized the rest of the trip how capable, strong, and able I am to learn and trust my body. Being around badasses the entire trip didn’t hurt either. The support I had from these seasoned climbers was unparalleled to any new experience I have ever had. They showered me with compliments and encouragement despite the fact I knew nothing. I am forever grateful for this new community I have found myself in. I hope one day I can help others and stoke them out as much as these people did for me.

If I can offer any sliver of advice from a new climber, it would be to go for it. You will be challenged, inspired, and that good type of exhausted. The magic of climbing outside is very real and should be the ultimate goal of all people who climb at a gym. Stone Climbing is that supportive place in Saint Augustine that will prepare me and my climbing family to challenge each other to go outside. The bridge to the mountains.

— Meg