On our first full day in the park, Jonathan, his sister Brit, Jessi, and I decided we would take it “easy” and boulder (1) around. We wanted to get use to our surroundings and the coarse Joshua Tree Granite. I spent the 5 months leading up to the trip climbing in the bouldering gym in Missoula, MT, so I wasn’t nervous about bouldering. That was, until I saw the boulder we were going to climb. My training grounds, and the game field, I realized, were two very different things.

We started in the “Real” Hidden Valley, which surrounds the Hidden Valley campground. There are two main bouldering areas - we were in Turtle Rock - and climbing in an even smaller area inside Turtle Rock called the “So High Area”. A great place to start out, right?

Jonathan, who is a much more experienced climber than the rest of us, had his face in the bouldering guide book, trying to find an easy route for us to start out on. After wandering around with our crash pads (2) on our backs, he stopped at the base of a 20ft problem (3) called, Descent Route. It was a 5.7 low angle slab (4). The 5.7 rating meant it was even easier than the easiest bouldering grade of V0 (5).

I looked up at the rock and felt my anxiety build, but sucked it all up inside until my chest puffed out. We put the crash pads down below, incase any of us should fall, and Brit stepped forward to climb first. She made it up fairly easy, and sat at the top of the route. I went next. My hands were so clammy the chalk would barely stay on. My breathing was definitely not under control anymore, my pits were soaked, and then I started climbing. The route itself wasn’t hard. It was a slab, meaning not quite vertical, so I walked up it fairly easy with good hand holds. But, I got to the top and looked at Brit, my chest heaving, and she said,

“Welcome! Now just breathe for a second and get use to it. It gets better.”

I looked around, and sure it was beautiful, but I was more concerned with getting down without breaking my ankles.

Oh no, I thought. I have to down climb. Something that I didn’t practice much in the gym due to pure laziness. Instead, I would just plop off a route onto a nice cushy mat. I looked down and saw a lot of dirt, sharp pieces of granite, oh and one 5.5 sq ft. 4 in. thick crash pad.

Jessi made her way to the top, and the three of us were stuck 20 feet in the air, trying to catch our breath, and stop our legs from shaking so we could make the down climb safely. After a few minutes, the three of us climbed down backwards, slowly, and less than graceful, but we made it to the ground. And I personally, needed a break. I don’t know what I thought bouldering was, but I didn’t expect this.

After taking a breather, we found a nice rock called the Sun Deck, which seemed to be only 3 ft tall. It was a 5.6 and looked like my kinda route. It was a simple 3 moves, which I proudly topped out (6), and remembered why I liked climbing. I seemed to have forgotten there for a second.

Looking back and from the bottom, the first route we climbed seemed like nothing. But on the other hand, fear is an instinct, meant to warn us of danger. But, while climbing we try our best to ignore it and trust what we know about the rock and our bodies. My issue is that I’m not quite experienced enough to know, what’s worth the risk and what isn’t? What can I handle, and what actually is dangerous? On that first outdoor bouldering route - The Descent, which was only 20 ft, remember - I came face to face with the very real possibility of losing a foothold or a hand hold and slipping, not to my death, but to a broken something I’m sure. Head, leg, back, i don’t know, but I got to this place where falling was not an option anymore. It’s a whole new game now, and I think I still want to play.

***

About a week later Jonathan and I drove into the park one evening to escape the windy BLM land. He was going to edit some photos, and I was going to work on some writing, but then I found a boulder. We grabbed the crash pad, our shoes, and chalk, and headed across the street to the Lost Horse Area, and a boulder named Mel’s Diner. The rock was steep with a ton of features (7), making for great face holds and feet placements. First we climbed Corned Beef Hash, a 13 ft tall 5.6 route. After spending the last week top roping and getting use to some of the height, I figured this boulder would be a piece of cake.

Corned Beef Hash gave me no problem, and a little boosted confidence. We had taken a few days off climbing, so it felt good to have chalk on my hands again. Next, Jonathan suggested I climb a 5.8 called Pickled Pigs Feet. It was a little taller, at 16 ft., but I had just watched J do the route easily, so I hopped on. I got about halfway up and froze. Luckily, I had a nice hand hold and solid foot placements to relax on, but I couldn’t make the next move. Every hold that appeared safe and easy from the ground, now became risky or non existent.

“Okay, your head isn’t right,” Jonathan said. “Get down.”

I was still at a point where I could safely climb down, and he was right, so I did.

“That was all mental,” he said. “If your head isn’t right, you’re not going to make smart decisions, and that’s when you get hurt.”

The route was solid. The feet holds were there. I just couldn’t see them.

“So, take a few breaths. Look at your route, and try again.”

I plopped down on the crash pad and looked over the rock again, establishing my route in my head. I took a few deep breaths and I got up to try again.

Like the first time, the start came easily, and I even got further than where I was stuck before, and then I froze. A deer in the headlights. I put my foot on a hold and tested it out, moved it back. Groped around on the rock for a hand hold, moved my foot a few more times, couldn’t find my balance. I was over gripping, my arms were getting pumped, and the panic was setting in all over again.

And then I heard Jonathan say, “Breathe, DJ. Big easy breaths.”

So I stopped. I found my balance on the rock, I closed my eyes, let the wind wash over me, and I breathed. I breathed until my heart rate steadied. Until I could think clearly. I opened my eyes, and I was in the exact same position. Nothing changed. I wasn’t magically at the top of the route now, or even better, on the ground. But I could see clearly and I could think straight.

I found two solid foot placements and balanced there. Then I found two, more crimpy (8) than I would have liked, hand holds, and paused.

“Once you get past this part, there’s a glory jug (9) waiting for you at the top,” Jonathan yelled up at me. “Just get to the jug.”

Just get to the jug. I pulled myself up on two of the smallest holds I’d ever used, reached up, and grabbed the jug. It was glorious and not at all doubt inspiring, big and solid enough for me to match (10) on, get my feet up even higher, and top out.

I walked off the back of the rock and Jonathan said, “Gosh, you scared me for a second”.

“I scared me too.”

Our two bouldering outings, were our only bouldering outings in JTree. I didn’t necessarily love bouldering the same way I loved it in the gym, but I will tell you one thing; all of the other problems I attempted were on low ball boulders. And while I didn’t top out on many routes, I didn’t poop my pants either, so I’ll call that a win.

1 Bouldering is a type of climbing where you climb close to the ground, without a rope.
2 A crash pad is a foam pad used for protection if a fall happens while bouldering.
3 When Bouldering, everything is called a “problem” instead of a “route”.
4 A low angle slab means the angle of the rock is less than vertical.
5 When bouldering, a V scale is used. Starting at beginner with V0 going all the way to expert at V16. All other forms of climbing use the Yosemite Decimal Rating System.
6 Finishing a problem by standing on top of the rock it is located on.
7 A featured rock consists of a lot shapes, or flakes, or crevices coming off of or into the rock, creating climbing holds.
8 A crimp is a small edge that only fits the ends of the fingers.
9 A jug is a very large handhold that you can wrap your entire hand around. A very secure hold.
10 Matching is when you use both hands on the same hold.

True life | I’m Afraid of Bouldering