Climbing for me started, like most, at a young age. Climbing trees and getting to the top of different buildings were routinely part of my youth. I guess that for me it was the feeling of being above and higher than the surroundings that brought a feeling of freedom.
I started climbing the year that I was a lifeguard for a summer camp. My first real rock-climbing experience was with a wire brush cleaning a section of rock for the campers. Crazy as it may sound, I was hooked. There was a certain perverse pleasure from the satisfaction of climbing the newly pristine rock face after all the effort.
From there, not having a car, I basically bought two climbing harnesses. And, in order to go climbing, I would initiate people to the sport. The Idea was that if they had a good day they would be hooked and I would have a regular partner. Suffice to say that I did not lack for partners. Eventually as experience set it, climbing trips to classic areas of North America became the regular vacations. These trips were mostly about seeking the classic long climbs that would bring one to the top of the mountains. These would bring back those childhood feelings of freedom.
Not surprisingly, having done most of the classic lines in the area, I started looking for new cliffs and lines to climb with all the pleasures that entails. Eventually, we found some great cliffs with amazing climbs and putting up new routes became a motivation to climb. Brush back in hand and a drill in the pack, I‘ve been actively seeking those elusive classics. I’ve learned quite a bit, and ethics have changed quite a bit in the last 20 years. But it still comes down to the pleasure and freedom of reaching the top of something new.