#8: What's a climbing pyramid?
When I first told Lane I wanted to climb 5.12 (see yesterday’s update), he asked me what was to him the natural next question: “What’s your pyramid?”
I had no idea what he was talking about. If I had a goal, I must have a strategy to get there… Right? Actually, no. I had no strategy.
Before Lane asked me what my pyramid was, the 5.12 goal was kind of like a distant country I hoped to visit some day. When would I visit? No clue. How would I get there? Don’t know. Are you doing anything to prepare? No… should I?
As Lane explained, a climbing pyramid is a series of interim goals to get to your main goal. You build up to a certain grade by layering the grades leading up to it underneath.
When I got home that night I sat down with the Mountain Project app open on my phone and a pen and paper. My partner cooked dinner. Around me, my family went about their business. I sat at the kitchen island, head down, scrolling through descriptions of climbs, filtering the search function by grade, cross-referencing by which crag the climbs were at, keeping in mind I didn’t want to pick climbs that were literally all over the map.
Here’s what I drew:
A lot of this has changed, or is otherwise out of date. Take the top, for example. Social Outcast, 12a, is thought of in the Mountain Project description as a classic “first 12a.” In other words, soft at the grade. I’ve since jettisoned that idea to focus on Vallee Daze, which is more of a solid 12a, more demanding on technique and endurance.
Underneath are two 11ds, Mitosis and Apocalypse Later, neither of which I’ve been on yet. Under those is Salley’s Alley, which is what I injured my shoulder on during Day 3, plus Black Mamba, which I got on for the first time last month. And finally Cereal Killer, which I have yet to attempt.
Then we get to the 11bs, and things really begin to change. The aforementioned Tatanka from yesterday was my first clean 11b, followed by Buried Treasure. I’ve since sent two other 11bs not on this list. The others I’ve attempted but not yet sent, though I’m close on Prime Climb and Lions and Tigers.
Below that, I’ve sent everything, in addition to another great 11a, Tropicana. Everything except Big Angler, which I honestly can’t even remember where that is.
Finally, you’ll notice the late addition of Waimea, 10d, in the bottom right-hand corner, as if it were an after-thought — that’s because it totally slipped my mind the first time around, that night at the kitchen island. And yet, here’s how Mountain Project describes it:
A stunning line up a prominent black streak, Waimea is an absolute classic. Sustained, creative moves on all types of holds get harder and pumpier as you near the top, and culminate with a technical crux on water carved grooves.
Basically, Waimea is as classic as it gets at the 10d grade not just in Rumney, but in the country. It goes to show that when you get too deep into the tactical choices of a training regime, you can potentially miss the forest for the trees.
I remember in College, the first time I ever came to Rumney. Waimea was solidly out of reach for my abilities as a lead climber at the time. It seemed like a worthy aspiration back then and even a year and a half ago, when I bought this house and was just getting comfortable in the high 10s.
For all the focus on grades and goals, Waimea reminds me: a climb can simply be beautiful, the line pleasing to the eye, its movements graceful. It doesn’t matter the grade, or what goal you’ve got in the back of your mind. Sometimes, climbing is just sublime, and that’s all it need be.