Fugue E9 6c - page 2 After several more visits and hours of brain work, I finally could see a way to ready myself mentally for a lead attempt. On the previous six visits, I had climbed the route cleanly at the first attempt, only to fail every time on my second attempt. Part of the mental block arose from my planned strategy for the day I would lead the route. I planned to top rope it once to familiarise myself once more with the moves, rest, then lead it. It became clear that this second attempt was the root of the problem. I decided to make a clean break from this rut of failure and gamble with a new strategy. Claire was getting tired of belaying. Given the substantial block in my progress and the fact that the saga was almost drifting into a third season, this was not unexpected. I told Claire my new strategy. I would not top rope the route ever again. I decided that there was nothing more to be gained from any further practice. I had to either commit myself to the E9 lead or admit that I wasn’t good enough. A hard decision to make objectively! If I decided to go back to it, I would gamble on my continuing success at the first attempt and hopefully pull off a successful ascent. I had expected the weight of this decision to feel unbearable. I tried to convince myself I could reason objectively and come to a sound decision. But I couldn’t help feeling I was simply gambling with my life! However, once made, the decision to go ahead and lead lifted my spirit immensely. It felt as though I had done something positive at last. Maybe I just felt that I was in control again, rather than the route playing games with my mind. In truth, I cannot resolve why I felt better about choosing this seemingly harrowing path, but I felt good, I felt ready. It wasn’t long before the day arrived. A weather window and my ever supportive wife were on my side and I was back at the foot of the overhanging wall, uncoiling ropes. I was shocked at how calm I felt inside. There was no anticipation, no racing thoughts. This ‘white noise’ inside my mind was a feeling that had come with every truly dangerous headpoint I’d ever done. But now it was absent. After placing the first gear and climbing down I warmed up with great care, climbing some boulder problems I had worked out with focus and calm. I had blown my confidence before by falling off warm ups with my mind on bigger things. After a rest in the warm sunshine, everything was in place. I picked myself up and began tying in and readying myself. The final decision to climb had not yet been made. I could still end it if I felt something wasn’t right. After sharing a final eye contact with Claire, I stepped across a small ledge to the first move and looked at the sky. My mind worked through all the reasons why I should stop now, but they had all been resolved. Right then, the switch was flicked and there was no going back. I was still standing there on the ledge, but I might as well have been at the crux. I felt an incredible urge to start climbing right at that second, like standing at the edge of a huge drop but having a peculiar desire to jump. I chalked up and began climbing. Each move was steady to a rhythm, but to me it felt like every move happened faster than the last. As I entered the crux section I felt like I was digging myself out of a tunnel. Having been digging for an age, each move was like the final blows as the pick breaks through into light.
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