Why is climbing Insta so cheugy?
Well, there’s a headline that would make no sense even two years ago. Alas, there’s no point in pining for an era that no longer exists, and never could ever again. It’s clear that we’re all just kind of bored with celebrating gnarly sends at the cutting edge, and far more engaged, as demonstrated by The Metrics, by climbing as a way to “do social media.” It’s fine. Climbing is more superficial than ever before. But do climbers have to be so cheugy about it?
Rather than define this derpy word for you, read Taylor Lorenz at the New York Times, who did the hard journalism of explaining what cheugy means. Essentially, it means trying too hard in a cringy kind of way. It’s actually a pretty perfect word. It describes some of the vapid self-absorbed cheesiness of our current cultural moment. Scrolling through my Instagram feed, I see lots of cheug. Climbers in evening gowns buildering on bridges. Climbers in loud spandex tights just dancing with climbing gear. Climbers hanging from pull-up bars while trying to do another task that requires fine motor skills (pouring beverages, etc). Climbers who’ve spent who knows how many hours editing videos of themselves pointing to messages that pop up on the screen to music. Climbers changing their outfits to show off their sponsors’ latest drop by snapping their fingers. Worst of all, climbers attempting to be funny.
What is all this shit? I’m genuinely in awe of these young climbers’ confidence. I don’t think I have it in me to be so … cheugy. I’m jealous. Lord, give me the confidence of the person who has been climbing for six months, leads 5.10 in the gym, and has 60K followers on Instagram because they make videos of themselves dancing in cam skirts.
Of course, it’s entirely possible that I’m the cheug—the out-of-touch geriatric millennial who makes people cringe. Indeed, my weak-ass metrics offer strong support of this thesis. What can I say? I think this shit’s dumb!
Adam Ondra slays Taurus, new 5.15b
Ondra reports eking out a new route at his home crag that he’s calling Taurus (9b). The route has a V16 boulder problem on it with a “zero-friction” 45-degree sloper. The route is located at Moravský kras, a climbing area in the Czech Republic where Ondra really became the climber he is today. Ondra’s got all kinds of linkups and eliminates and boulder traverses at this scrappy looking limestone cliff that are undoubtedly much harder than he thinks they are. Given the fact that this cliff is Ondra’s stomping ground—he’s dialed into the rock and the climbing here—and given the fact that this also isn’t a very popular cliff if you don’t live in the Czech Republic, I think it’s safe to say that Taurus might be one of those routes like Open Air or Flex Luthor that doesn’t get repeated for 20 years, and when it does, it gets a big fat upgrade. Just a hunch.
Post-Olympics Marriage & Baby Boom
Back from the Olympics. Got preggers. Who dis?
One unexpected development in the wake of climbing’s long-awaited Olympics debut is the fact that many high-profile Olympians and other strong climbers seem to be getting married or pregnant. Tomoa Narasaki and Akiyo Noguchi, both medalists from Japan, are the latest couple to announce their marriage. My good friends Emily Harrington and Adrian Ballinger just tied the knot in Ecuador, which was written up in the NY Times. Shauna Coxsey and Ned Feehally has a “beast in the making” (very cute), as do Iva and Adam Ondra, and Sanni McCandless and Alex Honnold. Congrats to all of these fine folks and friends!
I’ll be honest. Mawidge and babies weren’t on my bingo card for what the Olympics would bring to the sport of climbing. This spate of high-profile marriages and pregnancies could be a coincidence, or it could be the mark of a changing generation as the climbing’s leaders find themselves being drawn to other more important things in life beyond just being really, really good at climbing rocks. As Beth Rodden has pointed out in her myriad social media posts on this topic, there was a real stigma against women having kids and being female athletes. It was once thought you couldn’t really do both. It’s very cool to see this change, and see the community and industry be so supportive.
Evening Sends in 2021
Last year I made the decision to become reader supported, and went through a bunch of pains trying to get a system up and running to allow people to support my writing through a subscription. I just wanted to say that I’ve been really humbled by the response I’ve received, and I’m so thankful to all of the people who have chosen to support my work. What I find so amazing about the response I’ve gotten to this new way of funding my writing habit can’t be measured by numbers—honestly, there aren’t a ton of subscribers (yet!)—but in the fact that so many of my subscribers are actually dear friends in real life. Your support really means the world to me. Everyone’s does. I know that there are no shortage of apps, magazines, Substack newsletters, and Patreon podcasts, etc. that are asking for your support. You spend $70 a year here, there, and everywhere else, it really adds up. That’s why your support means so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!
Here are some of my favorite stories that I published on Evening Sends this year.
What I Should Have Said About Joe Kinder
Daily Stoke: Chris Kalous Does 50 at 50
Life After First Ascent: The Ethics of Updating Routes
Can Yosemite Climbers Fix El Cap, or is it Already Too Late?
Broken Discourse: the Tengkangpoche story
A Dumb American’s Guide to James McHaffie and What He Just Did
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