This problem is on the same block as Rise and The Golden Rule, correct? Had you been thinking about the climb for some time, and had anyone else, to your knowledge, tried it?
The boulder sits in a large sand-gully below the Secrets of the Beehive sector of the Buttermilk. It is just a moment’s hike from the parking lot. The boulder has no official name but holds four climbs: Rise, my own 60-foot first ascent on the southwest arête; a Sharma climb next to Luminance, on the northwest arête; Luminance, on the west face; and The Golden Rule, on the north face. The boulder had been spotted, cleaned, and worked on by multiple climbers. Chris Sharma, Dave Graham, Kevin Jorgeson and more looked at the line, and the latter two even tried some of the holds/moves. Chris eyed the line to climb for a film but chose the arête to its left.

How many days of effort did you put into Luminance?
The climb took me two days to complete on TR clean. I created a janky and quasi-balanced anchor on some large chickenheads atop the boulder — leaving ample surface area for some heinous rope drag. The climb is extremely steep, and I basically used the rope as protection only — trying the problem in a “ground-up” manner — pretending as if I were bouldering. Every time I fell, I would lower to the ground and start again.

The moment I first sent on TR, two great emotions overcame me. Excitement and terror plagued my mind for a few days between the TR and the send. I knew physically that I could finish the climb. Could I quiet my mind enough to allow my body to do its job?

Tell me a bit about the style of the climbing — moves start to finish vis-à-vis the terrible landing? You had two spotters for your ascent, correct?
I used a 16-move sequence. Any fall after move six would have been catastrophic. An uncontrolled fall before the sixth move would have only broken a few limbs, probably. The climbing is quintessential Buttermilk bouldering. Orange patina is slashed with minimal but parallel rails with neon-green lichen striping the lens-shaped wall. There are just enough holds. I used every feature on the face, and an absence of any would have left the climb impossible.

The feet are miserable and few — lending to the excitement. The first move off the deck is super committing: a right-hand throw to a small but positive crimp. The move was just a bit larger than comfort’s sake, and total body control was impossible. So right off the ground, I had to leave my control aside. Next came a series of hand matches until reaching for a long span out right to a positive rail with a slot in its rear. I jammed my fingers down that slot’s throat for dear life and twisted them into place — locking my nails down — grinding my teeth — fighting for life. Then, I held on with a fury.

The crux comes when I let my left foot off a good hold and let my body swing out from underneath in order to reposition way up and right. The rightward swing was complicated because the wall has a double angle and was slanted to propel my body into a twisting, writhing mess. Moreover, once your enter the “swing” move’s territory, the ground drops out from underneath. I was no longer semi-protected by a small ledge under the boulder. A fall would leave me dealing with the full 30 feet to jagged ground — facing the sky — coming outta the air horizontally.

After holding the swing, some difficult body-tension moves led me out to two holds I could at least get a little shake on. Of which, the left hand has some space to get behind. I wiled out on the left hand until I could hear my cuticles rupturing, set my right foot on a positive rail, and launched to a large right-hand rail at the lip. My feet cut. My arms were fully extended and I was way above the death zone! Luckily, the topout is not super adventurous and some jugs lead the climber out safely.