Dear humans,
I’ve seen you sneak off without me. I know what’s coming… In a matter of weeks you’ll be hacking me to pieces for your latest DIY project but you owe me at least a few moments of your time to have my say.
You imagine you forged your way all by yourself but I’ve been there since the beginning, photo-bombing your crag pics so that you could hashtag me for insta likes. And as much as I was never there for the highs to give you a fist bump, I had your back when it counted – for the lows, for every time you hit rock bottom. I’ve seen you at your worst, you remember that.
I had your back when you were a nobody, when you’d sit alone day after day and contemplate one boulder or another. Back then another cross on the tick list seemed miles away and every send took hundreds of attempts. I caught every one of them and kept you in one piece to have ‘just one more go’. I didn’t tell a soul how many times you fell off that V0 either.
I’ve been your pew for every single snack break, and a damned comfortable one at that. All I ever think about is your comfort – I even carry your lunch to the crag for you, not to mention all the other stuff you insist on taking. Not once have I dropped a thing: not a shoe, not a brush, not that theraband you never even use.
Remember when we road tripped together? You dragged me round forests, along beaches and up mountains. You even wrapped me in cling film and tied me to the roof of your car. You called all the shots and – although we never travelled in style – I never complained. I was just happy to come along for the ride.
And now this.
I’m not daft. Don’t think I haven’t seen your internet browsing history, I know you’ve been looking at younger models and I’ve noticed you’re not taking me out as much as you used to. I’ve borne the brunt of some of your heaviest falls, but not one of them hurt as much as this.
You can stuff me into the dankest, boggiest holes to even out your landing, fold me over the sharpest rocks, but please don’t turn me into a van mattress or climbing centre seat cushion. You know I’m too good for that.
And next time you send your project or push your grade and you’re up there basking in the glory, give some thought to your most supportive climbing partner.
Yours sincerely,
Seb’s bouldering pad
Hati Whiteley 