Kid Tracks Column: Climbing the walls

"We can pretend we're monkeys! Or maybe we can pretend we're saving kitties," said my 8-year-old.

"I think it would be really fun mom," said my 9-year-old.

"Yeah, it would be pretty cool, especially since the snow conditions aren't good right now," said my husband.
Whatever the motivation, my family agreed that rock climbing at an indoor gym was something we all wanted to do. The fact that we didn't have any snow to play in made the decision that much easier.

I contacted the Maine Rock Gym (MRG) in Portland to ask how a family of four with no knowledge of, or experience with, rock climbing should go about learning.

It was suggested that we try the "Discover Climbing Package," which includes basic instruction, gear rentals (shoes and harness) and climbing passes. No appointment was needed, but it was suggested that we choose to visit at a time that wasn't very busy in case we needed some extra help from the staff.

We arrived at the gym early on a weekday afternoon, paid for our gear and climbing pass and suited up in our special shoes and harness with the assistance of a helpful MRG instructor. Basic safety issues for climbers, especially the importance of communication between the climber and belayer while on the wall, were explained.

The kids were eager to climb but my husband and I still needed to learn how to actually serve as a belayer -- the anchor -- for our climbers.

At an indoor gym, the belayer is secured to the floor with a strap attached to their harness along with the climber's rope and carabiner. As the climber ascends, the belayer pulls in the slack rope to keep the climber secure should he/she lose their footing and slip. With a taught rope, the climber has less chance of falling too far, or too fast, and hurting themselves - or their belayer.

When the time comes to descend, the climber sits back and the belayer loosens the carabiner to let the rope out at a steady pace. The steady part is key because if a climber is given too much slack, they will fall faster and harder and therefore make it more difficult for the belayer to help the climber keep control of the descent.

We took in all this information in about 15 minutes. Which, according to my pouting 8-year-old, was too much time. "Aren't you ready yet, Mom? Let's go!"

My 8-year-old took to rock climbing easily and with a lot of enthusiasm. After her first few climbs, she decided to pick up speed. She started to look like one of the monkeys on her pants - which she wore especially for the outing.

But without question, her favorite part of the climb was going down.

"Yippy! This is fun! I can do it faster, you know."

I tempered her inner speed demon by reminding her that she didn't need any more broken arms; she's broken her arm three times with her spunky ways.

"But mom it is sooooo fun! And hey, I haven't broken my arm in a loooong time." It's been two years.

My 9-year-old, the more cautious of my daughters, climbed more slowly. She did not always choose to climb to the top if she was unsure where a foot- or hand-hold was. But then she started to figure out that she could backtrack a foot-hold or two and try a different path to reach the top. She was thoughtful about her climbing and I found it a great problem-solving activity for her.

The climbing went on without stopping for over 45 minutes. As soon as they touched the ground, the kids were climbing back up. So it didn't go over well when my husband decided he wanted to give the wall a try.

One of the safety rules at the gym is that no one under 12 years old can serve as belayer. That meant that the kids had to sit out for a few minutes while I worked with their dad.

As my husband started his climb, his cheering squad started up.

"Go daddy, go!"

But after a few minutes on the wall, which he was taking slowly and methodically, his cheerleaders turned to hecklers.

"What's taking you so long daddy?"

"Just get to the top daddy and then come back down so I can have my turn!"

"Come on daddy. It's not that hard!"

I realized with his climb that serving as belayer to an adult was a lot harder. There was a lot more weight to manage and his descent took more physical strength than I had anticipated. But I compensated and got him down fairly steadily, albeit a little slowly.

The kids were so anxious to climb again that I put off my turn to climb for a while.

When my turn came around, things got real interesting.

I've got a couple of inches on my husband in the height department with my 6-foot-tall frame. And then there's the extra 20 pounds I've been meaning to lose. But my husband was unconcerned about my size and told me to just start climbing.

"Alright honey but it was a lot harder to belay for you than the kids. I'm a lot bigger than them so I just want you to be ready for that."

"Wendy," he said, "don't worry about it."

So after a bit of advice to the kids about not heckling me about how fast I climbed (did I mention I'm not a big fan of heights to begin with?), I got started.

But after a few foot-holds up, I got nervous.

"Honey," I said, "you have to pull the slack. I don't feel like you've got me secure."

"It's OK Wendy, you're fine."

I muttered to myself as I watched the slack rope follow me up the wall but I climbed to the top without another comment.

Then it was time to come down.

"Honey, you have got to pull the slack. I can't sit back without falling and jolting you."

"I got it!"

So I sat back only to fall a little father than I anticipated and grabbed for the wall. After a second or two of holding the wall in a death grip, I calmly (and I must note here I am very proud of myself for not cussing him out) said, "No honey, you do NOT have the slack. Pleeeease, pull the slack so I can sit back."

"OK" he said in a quiet monotone. After 13 years of marriage, I knew that tone and it meant that he was nervous. And that, of course, made me even more nervous.

I gave myself a minute while he pulled the slack then sat back and felt secure. "Great" I thought, "I can do this."

But on the way down the rope went slack again and I started to feel more like I was falling than descending. Again, I was very pleased with myself that I did not yell.

Once my feet were firmly on the ground my first question (to avoid an argument) was, "Who wants to climb next?"

My 9-year-old quickly chimed in, "Mom, I want to go next. But I want you to be my anchor person."

And that, I thought, was most telling about what was going on down on the ground while I was on the wall.

My husband and I spent another 45 minutes belaying for the kids until he decided he wanted another turn at climbing. I belayed for him again and once he got down he said, "Try climbing again. I'll be steadier this time."

I thought about it for a solid minute before deciding to try it again. But, I couldn't completely bite my tongue.
"Please honey, don't let the rope slack."

A man of few words, and I believed, feeling badly about my last climb he simply said, "OK."

I felt a little calmer on the wall that time. My descent was slightly better than the first but still bumpy. I calmly told my husband once I was back on the ground that I didn't want to do it again.

"Let's just let the kids climb now OK?"

"Yeah, maybe that's a good idea," he said.

We spent another hour at the gym and I finally called it a day when my arms started to get a little shaky. Even with 60 and 90 pound kids, it still takes a fair amount of upper body strength to belay for more than two hours. Of course the kids didn't want to leave. It seemed they weren't tired at all.

But I prevailed with my argument about the safety issues of tired belayers. As we turned in our gear, the gym started to fill up with a group of kids of varying ages (the youngest looked about 5). I was told they came in every week.

So our day at the rock climbing gym confirmed what I had been told: Rock climbing is a sport that everyone in the family can enjoy. As for me, I will happily take up belaying again on our next visit.

Originally published in the Maine Sunday Telegram January 2006