Wall of Shame: Everyone Needs a Boulder to Cry On

Having lived in cities and been coddled by Chinese grandparents for a good part of my childhood, I learned to regard most physical activity as, well, something unwashed children did. I might be the only person alive who can’t ride a bike. But when I first heard a friend gushing about the transcendent experience of indoor bouldering, my curiosity was piqued.

Indoors? That must be safe … plus, how different could bouldering be from hiking on rocky trails? (I’d had some experience with the latter from reluctant hiking trips with my boyfriend, who grew up in the woods and ended up somewhat feral.)

As it turns out, it’s a much more perilous pastime. Upon entering the gym, I realized that indoor bouldering was more akin to indoor rock climbing. Climbers scale textured, angled walls by using protruding colored nubs called “holds.”

The walls were far shorter than those used in rock climbing, but patrons had only mats and their wits to guard against injury, since there were no ropes or harnesses in sight.

My friends and I, regarding the wall at a distance with awe and apprehension, were the obvious novices in the room.

“You’re new to this, right?” an experienced climber asked me.

“You can follow specific paths, called ‘problems,’ which are marked by the colored tape on the holds,” she suggested. “Think of them as puzzles.”

As I started on the beginner problems, both hands on one hold and swinging my feet to reach the next target, I recalled being told that bouldering is like “tango with a rock.” The contorted intimacy with the wall coupled with the quiet consideration of my next few steps amounted to an experience that was more like playing chess while figuring out the Kama Sutra.

Every time I got closer to completing (half of) the problem, I felt a surge of pride before I inevitably fell off. That I nearly got to my next hold tempted me to keep trying, like a hopelessly optimistic grandmother glued to a slot machine at a casino.

Shaking my fist at the wall and vowing to come back to conquer it, I finished my session that day feeling rather accomplished. Who knows? Next I might even tackle riding a bike.

Try scaling walls yourself for RMB 50/day at O’le Climbing. To learn more, call 6776 4705 or e-mail oleclimbing@gmail.com.