Butt Bongo Fiesta: the big dream

Butt Bongo Fiesta. When I started trying this climb, I had no idea the kind of journey it would become, or how much it would mean to me to send it in the end. It was, as always, just a rock, but it's our experiences with those rocks that create something really memorable...

In August 2018, I got on Butt Bongo for the first time ever. It seemed like such a daunting climb. I’d belayed and watched people on it before and everyone seemed to find it hard and cryptic and powerful. And I don’t think I ever saw another woman on it up to that point, so it was easy to frame it in my head as a powerful dude climb. The first time I tried it, I was up in Rumney with a friend whose weekend objective was to send Butt Bongo. I figured since we were going to be at the climb anyway and I had the opportunity to be sprayed down with beta, I might as well try it. I surprised myself (a lot) by doing all the moves on my first attempt. Sure, I hung all over it and took forever, but I was psyched! Then, second go, I got it down to a quick 3-hang. Instant progress! I felt like I could do really this rock climb.

An early attempt on the climb in August 2018.
Photo by Keith North

So, I went back to the gym and worked. I focused my training on the strengths I'd need for Butt Bongo, and on the weekends worked the route itself. For a month and a half, I dedicated myself mentally and physically to Butt Bongo: hangboarding, power endurance workouts, cardio, eating right, and I'm sure many hours spent looking at pictures and videos and reading the Mountain Project description over and over again. But I'd already put in many more months of work in an attempt to get back to 5.13 shape that year...

              Backing up a little bit, after sending my first 5.13 in August 2017, I was hit with a bad bout of elbow tendinitis that kept me out of climbing for 4 months over the winter of 2017/2018. It took months to find the right formula of PT and therapy to heal the tendinitis, but slowly it got better. I started easing back into climbing in February 2018 and it was rough. I was feeling red-line pumped on 5.9s and putting real effort into V3s. Pretty humbling after having the best season of my life. Instead of starting the spring 2018 season strong after a winter of training, I was starting it in a deficit. Then I had a really rough summer that year outside of climbing, with multiple medical issues, overwhelming work overload, and personal struggles, so I threw myself back into training with a goal to get "5.13-strong" again. Working hard in the gym made me happy again, it gave me purpose. So when I started making progress and seeing a send of Butt Bongo as possible, it meant a lot to me. Training for climbing is what I know how to do and sending routes brings me fulfillment. Working Butt Bongo was therapy. Sending the climb would heal me from all the struggles that defined 2018.

              And then I broke Butt Bongo.

              I was devastated. It was about more than just the rock climb. Doing that route, fighting through the personal hurdles and inching back to 5.13 strength after injury was going to mean so much to me. I’d put my everything into that route. And that was it. Just like that, the route was gone. All my efforts for absolutely nothing. The universe was telling me I couldn’t have it. Didn’t deserve it. I was crushed.

9/8/18 - A sad, sad day. Here's the hold I broke off the wall.
Aaron was kind enough not to take a picture of me crying.
Photo by Aaron Hwang

The rock I’d pulled off was absolutely critical. There were no other holds there. Nothing was left behind by the broken hold, not even a heinous crimp. The hold was so big and heavy I didn’t have high hopes for it being glued back on. It was nearly a square foot in size and a few inches thick.

              But reattached it was. It took drilling a bolt into it, in addition to what I assume was a lot of glue to hold it back on, but a few weeks later that big ole chunk of rock was hanging back in its place.

Mentally, though, I was fried on the route. I didn’t want to get back on. I’d already written it off and moved on. In the meantime, I’d sent Anaconda (5.12d) and White Snake (5.12b) and made a long-awaited ascent of Flying Hawaiian (notoriously scary 5.11b). Then Chris and I went to the New River Gorge and had a great trip there. The New always works wonders on my psych. I just love that place. Sometime after the New, feeling mentally refreshed, I got back on Butt Bongo. I hadn’t been on it in 2 months. Not since it broke.

Climbing in the New River Gorge, October 2018

              And I one-hung it! That was a feat I hadn’t even managed to do while I was projecting it all August. My psych for the climb was back, but the weather window was closing fast. I continued working it all November. My last-ditch attempt was the first weekend in December. It was chilly and the rock was freezing, the start was soaked. I tried it anyway, but it wasn’t to be. And so, the weather window closed on sport climbing in 2018 with no send.

              I was excited to have the winter to dedicate to training, since the previous winter had been totally wasted to injury. So, I trained hard with only Butt Bongo in mind. That would be the first order of business as soon as the spring season began. And 2019 would be the year I became a 5.13 climber. I set myself a goal to send three 5.13s in 2019.

              The 2019 season opened in March and I felt strong and light. I tried Butt Bongo… and made absolutely no progress. I continued one-hanging it and mentally I was crushed. And so frustrated. What had I been doing all winter that these moves felt no easier? After spending yet another day failing on it in April, I decided to walk away.

Trying hard and coming up empty.
Photo by Keith North

              I have a tendency to fall into dark, frustrated head spaces if I’m not careful, and after failing to make immediate (or any) progress in the spring, that’s how I felt. I knew, for my sanity and psych, it was best to take a break and reset my head. Butt Bongo, it seemed, was just too hard for me. Just because you can one-hang something doesn’t mean you’re close to sending. I read something to that effect on a meme one time and it hit home. I just wasn’t strong enough for the route yet. Maybe someday.

              So, I tried other climbs. I wanted to back down on the 13s for a minute and just send something to get the psych up. I got the ball rolling with sends of Get It On (12c/d) and Kundalini (12d) in the same week, then started working Tin Man (13a), which relented quickly after working the beta. The psych was back up and the send train was full steam ahead. I one-hung Tin Man and this time felt very close to the send (unlike my one-hangs of Butt Bongo). I got too tired to keep working Tin Man one weekend, but I was sure it would go down the next weekend. My second 5.13 was in sight! I decided to get some fitness and climb some “easier” hard climbs. I wanted to get on Social Outcast (12a) because it’s got big friendly holds, but a team of kids from Boston was hogging it on top rope, so we hopped on Social D (12a/b) instead… and I tore a pulley on the very unfriendly, 2-finger pocket in the crux. Bye bye summer climbing season.

              By August 2019, two months later, I was able to gradually work back up to trying hard and ease into crimping again. The finger didn’t hurt often, but man was it weak. I was pleased to see that all the weights I’d done while injured had at least kept my muscles strong. While injured, I’d worked hard to lose as little muscular strength as possible, knowing that loss of finger strength was unavoidable. After all my bouts of injures I’ve finally learned how to deal with it without going crazy. To accept what I’m given and make the most of it. To use the opportunity to do things I never would have done otherwise. And really, I had a great summer not climbing.

Summer 2019, having fun not climbing.

              But fall was fast approaching and I wanted to get back in shape to try to salvage the year climbing-wise. Long before I expected to be in shape for it, I sent Tin Man (5.13a). Then a month later I followed it up with Localmotion (5.13a). (But I already wrote about those here and here, so we’ll skip over them now 😉).

              It was now October, and I was standing at the base of the wall after sending Localmotion. I couldn’t stop smiling.

              “So… Butt Bongo?” Chris suggested.

              “Umm… Yeah, okay! Let's do it!” I responded, with a blend of excitement and nervousness. I was going to get back on the big proj again after all these months of trying to put it out of my mind.

I was still brimming with excitement from sending Local, so I thought, what the hell, why not try it? I had the momentum. I had the psych. And something had really clicked in my head after working through Localmotion. Something tiny and huge at the same time. And it's the tiny shifts in thinking that can make a huge difference in performance over time. Training hard in the gym gets the body strong, but come game day, it’s all about the head. Being in the right head space, really believing you can do it, and committing to trying HARD can have what feels like a magical effect where the moves just flow and it doesn’t matter that the moves are hard because YOU can do them anyway. That was the state I’d reached on Localmotion, and the state I was eager and ready to apply on Butt Bongo.

              So, I laced my shoes and hopped on Butt Bongo.

              I climbed in cruise control like no time had passed—the climb was so ingrained in my body—and I fell at the same spot as always: sticking the lowest part of the arete. But the moves felt GOOD. I came down bubbling with psych over how I felt on it. I rested and tried again with the sun sinking lower in the sky. And I tried HARD. Power-screams-grunts-and-growls hard. This time, I stuck the arete. I bumped and stuck it again and shuffled up to the good part of the arete. On all my dozens and dozens of previous attempts, I’d only made it here once. Then came the big crossover move, but I knew I could do it because that’s my move. I did it easily and found myself at the slopers on top of the arete. HIGH POINT.

Photo by Keith North

              For a fleeting second, I thought, “Holy shit, I’m gonna do it right now. I’ve got it!”. Then I realized just how toasted my forearms were. I tried some comical little micro-shakes but couldn’t get anything back, slid off the slopers, and found myself dangling. I lowered down, thrilled. I’d just made a new high point! I was tired and satisfied for the day, but Chris encouraged me to try it again. His psych for me was apparent and contagious. I rested again and tried once more. This time I was genuinely gassed. I fell at the usual spot low on the arete and shrugged it off, laughing about how tired I was, psyched I’d given it my all and made progress. “I’m gonna send it tomorrow!” I said with complete assurance as though it had already happened.

              I slept through the night (which isn’t a given in a tent), but woke up feeling head-to-toe wrecked. My efforts the day before had wiped me out: 2 burns on Local and 3 on Butt Bongo. Plus, I’d started my period the night before and was achy, my lower back was sore, I felt bloated and lethargic, and just so, so tired. Today wasn’t feeling like the day. Besides, I’d hogged the whole previous day. Today was Chris’s day. I left it up in the air whether I’d climb at all. Maybe later. Otherwise, I could take it easy and climb fresh tomorrow.

              I got out of belay duty as soon as Scott arrived, so I searched out the most comfortable rock and took a nap. The morning humidity slowly burned off and conditions improved. After several frustrating attempts ending in foot-slips, Chris sent Dark Star (13c)! I was so nervous for him, I could hardly watch, which made me all the more thrilled (and relieved) when he sent. He really earned this one. He’d put a lot of effort into it, and I was so proud to see him send! Butt Bongo or not, it was already a hell of a weekend.

              We hiked to Venus wall, and on the way over, I got on a fun 5.8 I’d never done before. I was starting to feel a bit better too. Chris and Scott thrashed themselves on Neptune, coming close, but not finding any proverbial cigars up there. By then, I was starting to feel real good. Not sleepy or exhausted or sore anymore. So once the boys called it quits on Neptune, it was time for Waimea! Woo hoo! It was already around 3:00 pm by the time we got there and with the exception of the 5.8, I hadn’t climbed all day. I warmed up on the first half of Techno as usual, considered going to the top, but didn’t want to get too pumped, and lowered down, crazy psyched to get on Butt Bongo.

              The only problem was, there were a ton of people on the ledge trying it. Sigh. I wanted to make sure I got on the climb at the proper time following my warm up, so the crowd was concerning. To my luck, however, one party was leaving the ledge as we were making our way up, and the others were super friendly and let me jump straight into the middle of the rotation.

              First go was amazing! I fell again, but made another new high point, and gained some useful insight on how to rest on the slopers and the power of sticking to your beta even when you feel too pumped to do it the usual way. After making a final big lock-off to a crimp, I usually flip my left hand from a downpull into a sort of mantle, but I didn’t think I had the gas to do that, so I just tried to bump to the better hold without flipping into the mantle—and I fell. Lesson: stick to your beta, people!

Photo by Keith North

              I looked at the time when I came down from my attempt: 4:15 pm. I decided to rest at least 30 minutes before trying again. I left the belay block to go pee and took my time getting a snack. When I got back it was exactly 4:45 pm. Someone had just gotten down from the wall and they said it was my turn to go if I wanted it. I said yes automatically because I didn’t want to get stuck at the end of the line and get cold while I was waiting, but I didn’t feel ready yet. I stalled, tying in and putting my shoes on at a snail’s pace. I pulled onto the climb and did the easy start section and immediately felt tired. All I could think was, I shouldn’t be going yet. I’m wasting a burn, I’m wasting energy. I even considered lowering down before the start of the hard stuff and scrapping the burn altogether. But that seemed silly, and lots of people were watching, so instead I decided to stay in the rest for a long time—as long as I needed—and make the most of it. I was already on the route; I might as well try fucking hard.

              Then, it was game on……

              I come out of the rest, pull into the undercling and clip… and feel fried. Oh boy. I don’t hesitate—because I don’t have the energy to— and start executing moves like a mindless dance: drop knee up to the sloper, bump, left heel hook, undercling, smear, pop up left, right heel, side pull, clip. Now I’m into the flow and don’t feel so tired—or I’m distracted enough to ignore it anyway. I hit the arete—my personal crux—and let out an intentional growl to summon more force, bump the arete and stick it. I throw my right heel up, poorly. Holding that arete is so sapping for me, I can’t adjust the heel. I have to just go with it. Hurry up and get off the lower arete. I bump to the lowest part of the upper (better) arete, it’s all I can reach with the poorly-placed heel. Bump up to the top, get the good corner of the arete. Time for “my” move—the crossover—I won’t fall here even though I’m tired, let everyone watch me do this move, I make it look easy. [Exhausted as I was, I was still filled with confidence.]

I’m at the sloper “rest” again. This is it. This is your chance to do it right this time. Shake out. Give it everything. You can do this RIGHT NOW. I move to campus my foot onto the high foot chip and my body sags away from the wall and I realize just how pumped I really am. No. Try hard, power scream. I lock off, but I’m too tired to reach the crimp. People are cheering, come on, Kim! go! I need to bump off something to reach the crimp. I grab higher on the arete to a spot I’ve never touched before because it’s slopey garbage—and it works! I bump and stick the crimp. Barely. Fingers uncurling, holding it open hand. Don’t skip the left hand flip this time even if it feels hard. I wrestle into the mantle. I SCREAM and bump… I STICK THE GOOD CRIMP!

The big lock-off move at the top.
Photo by Keith North

I growl with this ferocious energy and come into a good left side pull, huck my heel up, shake out, calm down. I’ve done it, I’m here. Just a few feet below the finish. I’m here and I’ve climbed here from the ground. It feels surreal. Every time I’ve done this section before I’ve already fallen lower down, so strangely that’s how it feels now. Like it’s just another one-hang burn. I don’t feel the pressure. I rest because it’s the prudent thing to do, but it hardly feels necessary. Then I go. I make the last couple easier moves and pop to top of cliff. My hand slaps the top and my fingers curl firmly around the edge.

Oh my god. Oh my god. I clip the anchors and stare at the rock in front of my face. I just sent Butt Bongo. Disbelief. Tears in my eyes. I’m quiet. I should scream, celebrate. It’s not really my way, but what the hell. I scream and slap the rock with both hands, it comes out as a wimpy high-pitched little scream, oh well, I’m fucking psyched. I lower down and can’t stop smiling. All I want to do is hug Chris.

Butt Bongo. The big one. The mega prog. Big hugs. I did it. I did it. More tears in my eyes. He’s smiling too.

The send video! Turn on the sound to hear my power screams. So thrilled to have gotten the send on video. Thanks Max Riegler! Safe to say I've watched this video a hundred times.

              What a ride. All the personal struggles, the injuries, and broken holds that stacked up behind this send, trying to throw me off again and again, finally crumbled. In one fell swoop, I’d sent my longest-term project, achieved my year-long objective of sending three 5.13s, and my lifetime goal of becoming a “5.13 climber”. Not only was the individual send incredibly important to me, but it represented a major shift in my climbing.

This climb was the culmination of not just my work on this one route, but of all the climbs I’d projected up to this point. Like a final exam. It represented a consistency of effort and an application of all the things I’ve learned (mostly through failure) over the preceding 5 years of projecting routes at my limit. It represented not just one giant shift, but all the little shifts that happened along the way and taught me all I needed to know to get to this level.

It was a breakthrough for me on so many levels. It showed me I’d broken through the 5.13 barrier physically, but more importantly, I felt that I’d broken through the barrier mentally. I believe I can send the grade now, and not in an abstract, visualization sort of way. I’ve gotten here through hard work and tenacity, discipline, sacrifices, and lots of dedication. I haven’t wavered. Through injuries and hardships, I haven’t given up. I’ve carried on and kept chipping away at the big goal.

And I’m really proud of that. I’m really proud to be able to say that I set myself a high, crazy goal—a goal I was too embarrassed to admit when I hatched it as a 12a climber—then put my head down and worked hard to achieve it. It hasn’t been easy. And I’m glad it hasn’t been easy because it means so much more. It’s so much more satisfying to work hard and finally achieve something that’s lived in your dreams for so long.

This climb was about having confidence in myself and learning what it means to really try HARD. It was about both persistence and patience, knowing when to give it hell, and when to take a step back, and not beat my head against a literal or proverbial wall. It was about momentum. And it was about dreams.

Now I can say I’ve achieved my dream. And that’s pretty damn awesome. 🙜

Photo by Keith North