Shorty Beta

Photograph courtesy of Sam Cervantes

Now that I’ve moved back to NYC for the summer, climbing primarily with my boyfriend on weekends has become routine. Coming back to the Gunks has been an interesting experience. For one, Kurt only has weekends off and in a past life, I only climbed on the weekdays to avoid massive crowds.

I also expected to feel humbled on a lot of things. Friends and Lovers (5.9) and the first pitch of Falled on Account of Strain (5.9+) accomplished exactly that. I thoughtfully moved up the first ten or so feet of Friends and Lovers before placing my first piece of pro. With nervous laughter, we acknowledged the quintessential Gunks pro and I continued onto the crux.

Perhaps I can blame summer temperature as I renegotiated the crux sequence several times before changing my mind. I stepped slightly left, using a series of small crimps to pull up on. I even waited until there was cloud coverage above me to make the move, convinced that the smarmy holds would somehow feel better with less direct sunlight. Our friend, Matt Matera, said he’d never seen anyone climb the crux of Friends that way, and dubbed it my “shorty beta”.

Last weekend, I backed off the first pitch of Falled entirely, having a big moment of hesitation heading up the runout face in the summer heat. It felt frustrating, to say the least. I gave Kurt the roof pitch of Falled on Account of Strain (5.10b), having sent the roof several years ago. I’m generally happy to give Kurt the crux pitch of routes because I just so desperately want him to fall in love with the Gunks the same way I had. However, this particular day I was feeling a little less than psyched after having bailed on the first pitch. My confidence in my own abilities was at an all-time low.

Matt joked at the base of Friends and Lovers (an appropriate name for our party of three), “It’s a love/hate relationship with this guy, isn’t it?” Matt is probably only a little bit taller than me and also has a negative ape index. We lamented over the start of Lisa, a 5.9 that Mountain Project declares “harder if short”. I absolutely hated being in the awkward corner, having placed two brassies back-to-back and struggling to make the move to a pod. I knew I was strong enough to make the move, but my mounting frustration wouldn’t let me and I backed off.

“There’s a good pod.” Kurt had said.

“I can’t fucking reach the pod!” I said, angrily. Kurt is 6’4” and I am 5’ and there is a slight difference between our heights. The pod was within reach for him because after stepping onto the face, it squarely in front of him without any additional effort..

Photograph courtesy of Chris Vultaggio

Weeks ago, I’d unsent the roof of Erect Direction, following Kurt’s lead on the third pitch. I thought I had stretched myself long enough to hit the hold but fell off. I wasn’t having fun on our climbing weekends anymore. Climbing was supposed to be fun, and I was repeatedly getting shut down and pissed off about it, instead of enjoying the only real free time Kurt and I had together.

His beta was all wrong for me. His gear placements were constantly in awkward, too-high positions to retrieve. Maybe I needed to stew a little in my frustration, but I knew that in the end, it would only get me so far. I remembered being told once: “Bio-mechanically, you have every advantage over most climbers. You’re ninety pounds and got less pounds per square inch. You are not too short! All it means is you’ve got to get your ass up and climb harder.”

Kurt has quietly made similar comments, but I’ve chosen to ignore them. Hey, I was stewing! But truthfully, cruxes like that on Carbs and Caffeine are going to be that much easier for shorter people. Taller climbers might have longer reaches, but also longer levers—making certain power moves harder. Shorter levers are helpful in any situation that requires body tension to place as much weight as possible on your feet. In general, having less weight is especially advantageous on mediocre, intermediate holds whereas taller climbers are often lacking in sheer strength to weight ratio. Small hands hold better on crimps and in finger pockets. My smaller frame will fit through atypical structures such as cavities, chimneys, and offwidths much better than they ever will for Kurt.

It’s can be, of course, frustrating to watch taller climbers effortlessly reach a hold that I will struggle and pop a vein to try and get to, but as a shorter climber, I need to remember that the most important thing is technique. Regardless of physical advantages, any climber with good technique will out climb those without.

Both advantages and disadvantages will exist regardless of size, and at the end of the day, it’s easy to whine about what’s fair and what isn’t. It is much easier to convince yourself that others have it easier than to realize and accept that they are either stronger than you, physically, or have better technique. Being creative and willing to push beyond what limitations you think exist is really no different than your daily life. In fact, I'd go as far to say that that's one of the things that makes it fun.

Cover photograph courtesy of Sam Cervantes