Am I going to lead Pink Laurel? Sometimes I think I spend most of my time at the Gunks beneath some route or other wondering if I’m going to lead it.

The problem with the Gunks is that every route has a story, a whole collection of associations, that goes along with it.

The first time I climbed Pink Laurel (5.9) was one of my first days out climbing with Todd alone, before we were dating. It was a cold winter day with snow on the ground and we had the place mostly to ourselves. As I was starting up to follow Todd’s lead, some guy wandered by.

“Where can I find a woman like that?” he asked Todd as he watched me pull smoothly through the crux. I’ve always figured that was the moment that Todd fixed his mind on me.

The next time I climbed Pink Laurel it was a little greasier, a lot harder, and I couldn’t figure out how to move out of the alcove. Finally, after a bunch of aggravating flailing, I found an elegant low-effort chimney sort of way. My mood was salvaged by having the chance to talk another flailing second through it later in the day. The patient, but growing frustrated, leader called down his thanks to me. Unfortunately, she got stuck at the next move too. The move out of the alcove is the trickiest, but not nearly the hardest.

Who knows how many times I climbed Pink Laurel after that. The route is a favorite of Todd’s. Sometimes it would be harder, sometimes easier. One day I decided to lead it.

At 5.9G, and as a route I was totally familiar with, it wasn’t a bad choice for an early 5.9 attempt. Unfortunately, it didn’t go well. After sketching my way up the unprotected easy start, I fell on the move coming out of the alcove (so much for my no-fail shoulder scum method) then got to the end of the crux, placed a crummy black Alien that came out when I pulled on it to test it, panicked, downclimbed back through the crux, hung, and eventually lowered. That was the last day I ever led anything with confidence.

Todd said that if I’d just put my hand where I tried to put the Alien, it would have been all over.

So am I going to lead Pink Laurel?

It’s the other people who are with us today who make up my mind. No, they don’t try to talk me into it. It’s their presence alone. Barry’s leading 5.6 and 5.7. Andrei’s leading 5.7 and 5.8. Everyone is moving up but me. It’s time I moved forward again.

With the bomber cam that protects the move out of the alcove in place, I’m ready to begin. How does this work again? The whole shoulder scum thing is a mystery to me today. I grab the edge and layback up, the way Todd always does it, the way I’ve never done it. Perhaps it’s a better move, perhaps it leaves my body in a better position, perhaps I simply choose a better set of feet for my stem. Whatever the reason, the hand-swallowing hole for my left hand feels better than it ever has.

I place a nut.

“Can you place one higher?” Todd asks.

Certainly I’d like to, but the second nut doesn’t want to go in. I’m getting tired here, occasionally giving my left hand a break from the hole by putting it on an edge over my shoulder, then shifting my feet to different holds as they start to ache. Finally, just as I’m contemplating hanging off the first nut, I get another one in.

Now what? Do I commit or do I quit? There’s a good-looking foothold up by my knee. Have I ever seen that hold before? I think that if I just stand up on that foot I’ll be able to undercling the edge of the crack up there and then I can put another piece in. I stand up on the foot and undercling the little flake. This stance sucks. But I see another good-looking foothold at my knee again. Have I ever seen that hold before? I think that if I just stand up on that foot I’ll get a good stem and then I can put another piece in.

I stand up on the foot and stem. Now this is more like it. I could stand here and place gear all day. I put in a gorgeous nut, then, as I’m preparing to move up on it, I look to my left.

My God, it’s true. There’s the horizontal crack where I placed the black Alien. This is where I panicked. Why was I so stressed at this stance? Why was I even trying to place a black Alien when I had the option of slotting this bomber nut?

I don’t know whether I even use the horizontal to the left as I make the last move to the ledge. I stand up and lean my forehead against a block and take several deep breaths, feeling the cool rock against my skin and the ground solid under my feet. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. I just know that I’ve made it here at last.

Me starting up Alphonse (5.8) with Andrei belyaing

Me leading the first pitch (5.6) of Alphonse (5.8)