I'm taking a grant writing class, sort of. This is what I write for it:
Progression
in climbing shows no sign of slowing down. Objectives are getting more
dangerous and more difficult by the day. The layman’s project is moving closer
to walking for professionals, and no one has a sense of humor about
it. We, as climbers, get too invested in pushing ourselves to the next level.
We forget to sit back once and a while and goof off. Bust out a dance move
mid-route, blast Disney music from a boom box in your pack, or wear your
biggest sombrero over your helmet. For me, this playfulness is simply
inseparable from climbing. I need playful objectives as well as serious ones.
From my experience, the silly accomplishments that I’ve shared with friends
have been at least as memorable as the serious accomplishments. And surely
there is a place to be focused on trying your hardest, but without a balance I
start to rely too heavily on my own personal growth as a climber and not enough
on the connections I make through climbing.
Jackson Depew and I have been climbing with various
amounts of cheer since the beginning of our relationship as climbing partners.
For us, rock climbing has always been a funny thing. We’ve spent the last two
years leading rock climbing trips with this exact philosophy in the forefront
of our minds (read: costume climbing trips, speaking in accents, etc.). So when
our friends all came back from Moab boasting about this super scary, exposed,
tear-inducing tower called Castleton Tower, we chuckled a bit and applauded our
friends for their efforts, but at that moment the seed was planted. Desert
towers sounded radical, and we wanted to have a barbecue on top of the proudest
one.
I grew up in Philadelphia, a city with about three
boulders, none bigger than 20 feet. It is an unlikely place to produce a rock
climber, especially considering its distance from mountains, but here I am. My
long time friend Gabe Adels first introduced me to rock climbing at the local
climbing gym. We climbed together off and on together in high school, however
my enthusiasm was ever increasing. I caught the bug, and I have Gabe to thank
for my entire life direction. I moved to North Carolina to pursue a life as an
outdoor educator and rock climber. Gabe has since stopped climbing with any
amount of regularity, but I’ve always promised I would take him up the biggest
cliff I could manage.
Receiving this grant would provide
me with an invaluable opportunity to do what I have been dreaming of doing for
years: provide the goofiest introduction to multi-pitch climbing possible for
Gabe while summiting the most iconic desert tower known with my best friends. None
of us have climbed anything notable outside the southeast, which has resulted
in the honing of skills such as climbing slabs, placing tri-cams, and the
ability to listen to bluegrass music. While these skills are all useful, we
long to feel the desert sandstone. Our wages as part-time climbing instructors do
not afford us the opportunity to drive very far or take much of a break from
our jobs. If given this opportunity, we would gladly show our gratitude to the
American Alpine Club through the creation of a video and slideshow, documenting
the process of having a barbecue on top of Castleton Tower.
I'm going to ride my bike, read books, and laugh all weekend. I'm stoked.
Riley.
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