Rock Climbing in Railay

I am a terrible rock climber. But strangely, it is one activity that I just can’t give up on. 

I went to Railay Beach, in Thailand last week.  This spot is known for its beautiful karst rock formations that attract rock climbers from around the world.  Seriously good climbers come here to spend days picking their way through hundreds of climbing routes.  I’m always amazed and mesmerized by the men and women who hang precariously over the beaches by the tiniest bit of fingertips.  Such beautiful strength and agility; it really is a beautiful dance to watch. 

Then there is me.

Scrambling, grasping, clinging to the rock. Do you remember those plush Garfield’s that were seen suction cupped to windshields in the 80’s? Yeah, like that.  I’m not scared of falling, I’ve done that plenty.  It’s just that sometimes I look at the rock, and I don’t know what to do.  I’m just stuck.  I search and search, but it seems like there is no logical route.

Then a high-pitched thickly Thai slathered voice shouts from below.  “Left hand more higher!”

Ip, my climbing guide, who knows these rocks intimately, shouts encouragement from the ground. His voice is encouraging but with a twinge of urgency. Like if I don’t make it to the top, he will have failed me.

These shouted instructions are reminders for me to get out of my head and just look at what is there.  Focus, look, slow down, calm down and listen.  Listen and do. 

“Right foot, right knee!” Shouts Ip.

“Right foot, right knee.” I breathe out.  Yep, there is the toehold.

“Left hand more higher!”

“Left hand more higher?” I question as my hand searches for whatever little hole Ip is picturing in his head.  “Oh, yeah. Right there.  Left hand more higher. Duh.”

“Get your balance!”

“Balance. Balance. Okay.”

“Now stand up!  Now stand up, Andrea! Just stand up!”

Grunting, “Stand up, stand up, stand up!”

Yep.  Just like that.  Simple. 

I think that’s one of the reasons I love the idea of rock climbing. The goal is clear, but you can’t think of it all at once.  It is one handhold, one toehold at a time.  And when you’re stuck.  It’s best to get out of your own mind and just listen to those who know better. 

Again, I am not a good rock climber.  I often try to muscle my way up the rock by using my arms way more than I should.  I have bad technique. Rather, I have no technique at all.  This causes me to become worn out faster than other climbers who use good technique.  I’m learning, but I still am not physically capable of a lot.  But instead of quitting, I’ve learned to “take a break.”  At first, when I would ask to come down, the climbing guide would simply respond, “No, take a break.”  I used to think that taking a break was failure.  I would fall off of the wall and hang dejectedly from the top rope, an epic disappointment dangling above for all to pity.

This year, I decided to try and change my mindset about climbing.  As a co-worker explained to me, it’s mostly a head game.  If you think you can do it, you can do it.  So instead of feeling like a letdown, I decided to take a break just as it is… taking a break.  When about to give up, Ip would say, “Take a break!” and I would do just that.  I pushed off the wall, shook out my hands, listened to Ip as I swung over the ground. And when ready, I’d climb back on that rock, ready to grapple with it anew.  What a great feeling. 

I didn’t get to climb as much as I thought I would this year.  While scrambling through a cave in the morning, I fell and tried to catch myself with my hand.  I botched up my wrist and was unable to get good holds on the wall in the afternoon.  I tried a really easy climb, but just couldn’t hold on to the wall. So, I ended my climbing with a whimper of surrender instead of a yawp of excitement. 

But hey, lying on the beach wasn’t bad either. 

Railay West Beach

Ip guiding Lindsay on her first lead climb.

We climbed through this bat infested cave to repel down the other side.  What a view!