We’ve just returned from our first trip to the New River Gorge with two children. Two lessons were learned.

First, we lack the energy and/or patience to climb with a three year old and a six month old. While we managed to do a reasonable number of routes on Saturday (given our rather un-alpine start), today was a wash. Both boys were tired and grumpy from getting considerably less sleep than usual, and they needed near constant attention from us at all times. We can certainly handle them for a day trip (as we did last weekend at Coopers Rock), but a full weekend is a bit beyond us (and, really, them) at this point.

Second, I am still a climber. There has been some doubt about this, since I haven’t been to the gym since February or March, and I have spent more time on my bicycle. But, a few moves into the 5.11 I started with on Saturday, I realized why I have been climbing for nearly fifteen years. The simple flow of moving of stone, feeling out the ripples and edges, creeping ever upward. For a moment, I even entertained the idea of training again, to make the most of our meager time at the New. I thought the better of it, though, knowing I have not the time nor the motivation. No matter, I could always climb, just climb, even if it means top-roping 5.11, failing miserably on 5.12, or padding up 5.7 on gear. Climbing, just climbing, for the joy of it.

It’s likely we won’t try to make the trip the New again for some time. We will, however, make more frequent trips to Morgantown, or explore some of the newer, local crags, whose existence we ignored when we had the time and energy to travel further south.

Yes, I am still a climber.

Posted on 4 June 2006