After seven years of editing the best climbing magazine in the world, I’ve read thousands of articles by hundreds of writers and worked with dozens of them to help them turn their Dear Diary entries into the smashing articles that you read in Rock and Ice. Over the years, I’ve noticed that there are certain patterns to climbing prose that re-emerge and repeat themselves. It’s not just in writing, either, and you’ll hear many of these cliched terms in common climbing dialect as well. This isn’t a complete list of climbing cliches, but a good start. My only problem with these words is that they’re basically meaningless — spoken or written simply out of the need to escape a void in our comprehension of reality, which could otherwise be filled with more exact truth and new creativity. That said, I wouldn’t want to see these words rid from our vocabulary anymore than I’d want to give up the word “fuck,” a word as ugly but as useful as an iPhone, and that I rely on like a trustworthy sidekick to navigate this tortuous life.
Here are some climbing cliches. Fucking feel free to add to this list.
Perfect [granite/sandstone/limestone]: Why is the rock always perfect? Is it perfect … or did the first ascentionist have to trundle 400 pounds of choss and annihilate a colony of flora with an acid wash? Not only that, but we need the rock’s imperfections, its lines of weakness, to climb. There is such a thing as perfect rock … and it’s unclimbable.
Instant Classic (or, worse, “insta-classic”): This sad plea is used by first ascentionsts to trick others into climbing on their overgraded, zero-star turd routes. This overused phrase is as meaningless as the V-scale is in bouldering.
Yosemite-esque: Whenever someone writes an article about a mediocre destination that is pretty good, but not great, they will use a word like “Yosemite-esque.” Only Yosemite is like Yosemite. Nowhere else is in any way like Yosemite (except for King’s Canyon, which is Yosemite-esque, but nevermind that.) I will never visit a place that is “Yosemite-esque,” because if I wanted to climb somewhere Yosemite-esque, I’ll just go to Yosemite.
Untouched/untapped/endless potential: Yes, yes, lots of potential. This is like saying “infinite fun,” as if an infinite amount of fun is more fun than just plain old fun. Besides, what this really means is that there’s a new area, with maybe two or three routes that are worth climbing and which are surrounded by piles of choss that you could, technically speaking, clean/develop/bolt … just like you could also raise a cow and milk it simply in order to make your own butter. Or you could just go to the store and buy butter–and by that I mean just go to Yosemite and not deal with the hassle of finding climbs in the endless potential of rock on earth.
Mecca/Shangri-La/Nirvana: A “sport climbing Mecca.” A “Shangri-La of bouldering.” “Trad Nirvana.” What in the fucking name of GOD does that even mean?
Super (pronounced soooo-per): “Super good.” “Super run-out.” “Super perfect limestone.” “Super technical.” We get it! The worst is when it’s spoken by a climber describing his mega-project. “Yeah, it’s super good climbing, but the route is super run-out. The crux is super technical, and you have to be super strong to do it, but it’s super fun, bro, super fun!” KILL ME!
Guilty…
I remember hearing “mecca” for the first time. After that, it seemed like everyone said it when they spoke of the famous crags in their areas. I’d cringe every time they said it. I still don’t prefer that word in describing or titling a climbing location.
Ha ha. A few more…
– “Stellar movement” (“stellar”-anything)
– “Epic” (both banal and mainstream these days)
– “5-star”, “3-star”, anything “-star”.. goes along with “stellar” I guess
– “the Yosemite of _____”, “the Hueco Tanks of ______”, “the Astroman of _____”, “the Fontainebleau
of ____”
– “desperate”, “burly”, “grovelly”, “heinous”
– Any reference to how you drove all night or how little money you have for your bitchin’ roadtrip
– Any mention of slacklining
– “Chongo”
Ha! Those are great. I’d forgotten all about “epic” … I recently read an article where someone used the word epic to describe his training sessions on his vertical indoor woodie.
Don’t forget about “splitter” cracks…weather…alpine windows…whatever. And of course, that old California favorite, “bluebird Sierra days”… !!
The problem I’ve always run into when describing something as an “x-star” route is what kind of scale the other person I’m describing the route to is using. If I say it’s 3-star and they use the 5-star scale…well then WHO CARES…it’s a mediocre route.
Splitter as a term for anything that is not, in fact, a splitter. Don’t even get me started on bomber. Also, describing an offwidth as a “gaping maw.” Or talking about a “sea of granite.” we get it bro, big walls make you feel like a “tiny island in a vertical ocean.” You still have to poop in a bag.
Splitter as a term for anything that is not, in fact, a splitter. Don’t even get me started on bomber. Also, describing an offwidth as a “gaping maw.” Or talking about a “sea of granite.” we get it bro, big walls make you feel like a “tiny island in a vertical ocean.” You still have to poop in a bag.
I foresee and gleefully anticipate the “V Scale Boulder Ratings Are Bullshit” post. For serious.
I didn’t realize you were the editor for alpinist
Haha! Now, THAT’S funny