Here’s the thing with climbing trips: they’re exhilarating and affordable. Once you spend the initial investment of a harness, quickdraws, rope and some safety gear, you’re set for awhile. Then, you’re free to explore any and every crag you can get your fingers on, without having to pay a dime. 

And here’s the thing with me: I love Climbing trips. They’re a perfect excuse to travel to places on your bucket list, they give you a great pump that you’ll feel for weeks afterwards (physically and metaphorically), and an awesome way to get away from it all and into the outdoors. 

Angus and I were getting sick of the dark and stormy Glasgow. We wanted a bit of change; however, our short winter break and tight budget wouldn’t allow a ski holiday of any sort. So we opted for something even better: 

Costa Blanca. 

Costa Blanca is one of Europe’s ultimate winter rock climbing destinations. When other climbing areas get too cold for comfort, Costa Blanca is the place to be. The weather is perfectly mild between a comforting 15-23 degree Celsius (around 60s and 70s in Fahrenheit), the climbs are diverse and the views are absolutely stunning. It is any climber’s dream; waking up to the lapping waves of the seashore and driving to a vast mountain range full of high-quality crags.

We first sought out Sierra de Toix, a cannot-miss ridge that juts out into the sea between Calp and Altea. After our fairly straight-forward approach, we reached some popular climbs for a warm-up. It’s been awhile since I’ve been sport-climbing outdoors; the Scottish don’t really believe in sport climbing and prefer trad. So on our first climb, I took a deep breath, and slowly made my way up the wall. Normally, I would be completely comfortable with climbing a 5+ rated climb. But here’s the problem:

I didn’t have my climbing shoes.

Okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. I did have Climbing Shoes, but not my standard, sticks-to-every-rock-surface Miuras. Through bad luck with resoling experiences, I was missing my Miuras and stuck with really cheap, beginner climbing shoes. Call me spoiled, but I depend on my Miuras to keep me from just sliding off the wall. Therefore, my confidence was next to none. So I climbed some easy stuff the first two days. 

By the time our last full day rolled around, I was ready for some hard climbs. We headed towards Sella, arguably the most popular climbing areas in the Costa Blanca region. After an hour of driving through the winding roads of the mountains and passing professional cycling teams, we arrived at the Cabeza de Rino, situated in the middle of surrounding mountains and lush forestry. I was stoked, until I got out of the car. 

I’m going to straight-up here: I am terrified of heights. Yes, I love to climb. Yes, I fall when I climb. But I’m still terrified of it. It’s a huge emotional, mental and physical process for me to get on anything above a 5.10; going on climbs that challenge my skills forces me to focus and not dwell on my fears–instead I transfer my fears into strength and technique. However, once I opened the car door and got to Cabeza de Rino, all that fear came pummeling back, all because of the wind. Yes, the wind. Blowing at over 40kph that day, I knew for a fact that the higher I climbed, the more likely I would get blown off of any balancey move, or any crimp. I could barely stand my ground ON the ground, let alone on rock. My cheap climbing shoes wouldn’t help either. I was scared. 

My stubborn self went onto climb Sopa de marsopa, a 6b+/5.11b+ anyways. And let me tell you, I’ve never been so freaked out. Halfway through the climb, the moves picked up on intensity and technicality. So did the wind. The footholds got smaller and smaller, making my shoes almost useless with its ability to stick to the wall. Then, my fear kicked in and I started shaking. I didn’t want to keep going, I couldn’t get through the crux move. It was too windy, I kept being blown off and falling. But then the greatest thing happened: 

I kept going. 

As ungraceful as it was, I somehow pushed myself to get to the top. Now, that included lots of falling, lots of desperate clipping and lots of taking. Also, a lot of talking to myself and maybe even a bit of crying. But I didn’t let my fear consume me. I kept going, and I finished the climb with the wind gusting through the air. Moral of the story: don’t let your fears conquer you in anything. 

Anyways, by the time I finished, it was the end of a good day. Angus and I climbed up to the top of the Cabeza de Rino to see the sun set over the mountains. Pictures tell all:

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