My climbing crew and I hit up Peterfest 7 in Sandstone, Minnesota.
I learned that ice climbing is still fucking really hard for me , you guys.
The difference this time is that I actually made it up a fucking route.
YAY!
I think my problem is that I don't trust my feet in crampons yet, and I expend a large amount of energy hanging on to the ice axes for dear life. I have a lot of anxiety about slippery terrain and holding sharp objects. I don't want to accidentally hurt anybody on the ground.
It's pretty fucking awesome once you make it up a route though. It isn't much to anyone else but it feels like I'm leveling up a bit.
Note to self, bring two pairs of gloves next time. My thick Black Diamond gloves were cramping up my brake hand while belaying and that was a little scary.
A booty shot of me.
The gnar that is Sandstone.
Peter of the Peterfest fame on the tallest climb in the park.
Bonus. My crampon slipped as I was being lowered and I spun and hit the wall. HARD.
Right GNEE
Left GNEE
( I know it's KNEE but GNEE sounds stupid funny to me.)
You can't have any sort of fun without a few owies.
I'm so grateful for my climbing crew, y'all. We're going to be hitting Sylvan Lake climbs in South Dakota on Memorial Weekend and I can't fucking waiiiiit. <3<3
