As I inched my way up a 70-foot wall, with no belayer beneath me, there was a moment when the only things that existed were me, the rock and the cool morning air. The only sound was the soft squeak of rubber against slabby granite and the rhythmic zip of my progress-capture device, a sound somewhere between a zipper and someone strumming the teeth of a comb.

For the longest time, mankind has operated under the assumption that you need a climbing partner if you want to rope climb. But climbers, being the resourceful people they are (and occasionally obsessive), invented top-rope soloing for those with mismatched schedules, for those who simply don’t feel like interacting with another human being, and of course, for those comfortable with a bit of added risk.

I might fall into every one of those categories perfectly.

But how did I get here? We’ll rewind a bit.

Every now and then, I’ll get a text from someone I’ve met somewhere asking if I’m around while they’re passing through Tahoe. Naturally, as any completely reasonable person would do, I rearrange my entire weekend to go climbing with them.

So when my good friend Elvis Ortiz texted me saying he’d be climbing at the Emeralds Saturday morning, I was in. Elvis isn’t just an incredibly strong climber, he’s also one of the community leaders behind People’s Climbing Crew and Escalemos, two Bay Area BIPOC climbing groups dedicated to making the outdoors more welcoming and accessible. He’s an outdoor programming and education lead, but more than anything, he’s one of those people who genuinely cares about building community in climbing and helping others get outside. So, shoutout to Elvis, the People’s Climbing Crew and Escalemos for the work they’re doing.

I, on the other hand, firmly support a little crag gatekeeping.

Just kidding, if you ask me directly for crag recommendations, I’ll always help. I just don’t want to accidentally saturate a spot by advertising it in a newspaper. So I won’t tell you exactly where we were. What I will say is that it was beautiful. I’ve only climbed at the Emeralds a handful of times, but every visit reminds me why it’s one of the Tahoe–Truckee area’s gems

We climbed a few routes together before Elvis walked me through his own top rope solo system. And just like that, an entirely new world of climbing opened up.

When I climbed up, I felt how freeing it was to move entirely on my own.

Top rope soling basically means you’re attached to a rope the entire time, but you don’t have a belayer. I’m not a climbing instructor, so I’m intentionally not explaining how it works. Top-rope soloing comes with additional risks and should only be learned from qualified instructors.

In many ways, learning to top-rope solo simply gave me the ability to combine two of my favorite things: being alone and climbing. After a turbulent period in my life, I realized that solitude in the outdoors was one of the few places where my mind finally grew quiet.

There is actually research suggesting that spending time in nature can lead to what’s called a “small self.” Basically, the vastness of the natural world can shrink the sense of personal importance, softening everyday anxieties and ego boundaries, and fostering a feeling of being part of something much larger and more connected than the individual self.

I don’t know if that’s exactly what happens to me. I just know that every time I’m alone in the mountains, or wandering through the desert, or sitting underneath a boulder waiting for my skin to stop hurting, I suddenly remember to breathe.

The anxiety gets a little quieter. The world gets bigger. And for a while, I get to be wonderfully, beautifully small.

Anyway, this was one of those weekends I’ll remember for a long time. I’m excited to see where this new chapter of climbing takes me.