Colin Futrelle

Rock Climber

Colin in a blue helmet and mirrored sunglasses on a high belay, pointing at the camera, with a stack of rope and a desert valley below

The first time I stood under a real wall, my hands were shaking before I'd even touched the rock. I remember looking up and thinking there was no possible way I was getting to the top. I got to the top. Not gracefully, but I got there, and something about that climb hooked me for good.

Years later, the shaking has mostly turned into focus. Climbing still asks the same questions every time: can my body do this move, can my head stay quiet enough to let it, and can I trust the person on the other end of the rope with my life while I try. Most days, the honest answer to at least one of those questions is "not yet," and figuring out why is half the reason I keep coming back.

The trust part still gets me. Handing someone the rope that keeps you alive builds a kind of relationship you don't get many other places, fast, real, and completely without pretense. I climb a lot, and I don't think that trust ever gets old.