Stepping into the lead took the last drop of my strength. I climbed for ten shaky feet. My body plotted mutiny against my mind. I delicately stood up on a loose block. The effort required was inconceivable. The joy I normally felt when climbing had been replaced with fatigue and terror. I tried to let out a roar, meant to give me power like in Kung-Fu movies. A feeble sound dribbled out of my mouth, as if I had laryngitis. My body tried to force itself into the fetal position. I stepped down off the loose block and cowardly crawled back to the anchor. “I can’t do it Rob”. He then gave me the look. The “I am ashamed of you” look. My stomach was in my throat and I wanted to die as soon as possible.

We were two pitches from the top of Leaning Tower, in Yosemite National Park. One hundred feet of 5.12, consisting of a twenty-five foot roof crack and a desperate stemming dihedral remained between the summit and us. A year earlier I had belayed Rob (Miller) when he successfully made the second free ascent of the route. As a gift of generosity and friendship he said he would belay me to make the fifth free ascent of the route, unfortunately I was not up to the challenge.

I would have been content with swapping leads that day, but that just wasn’t part of the deal – I had to lead it all. I wanted so many things, to free the route (I was over-gripping the whole way), and to tear down the walls in my consciousness that kept me from succeeding in my goals. Most of all I wanted to have fun. I had come closer to my goals under Rob’s mentorship, but my body and my soul were not ready for the challenge.