The way Jim Cunningham sees it, rock climbers are part analyst, athlete and artist.

“It’s an exercise of the mind and body. It’s a dance on the rock,“ he says of the pursuit that lifts him up stony crags and slabs in the Adirondacks. Cunningham is director of the Adirondack Mountain Climbing School, making his livelihood in an area with both a rich climbing history and new heights to be scaled. A guide book on climbing in the Adirondacks lists about 250 vertical routes, many of them 400 to 500 feet. Cunningham has made the first-ever ascent up 20 routes in the last couple of years.

“It’s a Christopher Columbus-type feeling,” he says of exploratory climbing. “Sometimes you just come into a dead end. You have no information except what’s in front of you.”

Cunningham and his partners are free climbers—their ascents are made with hands and feet only. The gear they bring along is a safety net, not a climbing aid. “Only when you fall does your equipment come in to play,“ he notes. Abrasion-resistant rope, harnesses and carabiners are used to reduce risk on the cliffs as climbers make their meticulous moves.

“Climbing is essentially a safe sport. We’re not a bunch of irresponsible daredevils.” Cunningham says. In mountaineering, a Class 1 or 2 climb is general hiking, like that along most wooded trails in the Adirondacks. Classes 3 and 4 require some handholds and footholds and at times a rope is a good idea. Cunningham teaches Class 5 climbing, which requires the gear mentioned above and pat knowledge of its use. He starts the students climbing on large boulders. Bouldering can present moves every bit as challenging as high cliffs, without the risk of a long fall. The beginner, finding himself hanging on for dear life halfway up a steep boulder Cunningham ascended as though it were a staircase, quickly discovers muscle is no substitute for form.

“You can be the strongest guy in the world and fail on a climb if you don’t use technique,“ Cunningham notes. The key is to rely on bone structure rather than muscles to bear your weight, so you do not become “gripped out” and lose your hold.

“Friction,” “face” and “crack” are types of climbing to be mastered. In friction climbing, the rock is not so steep as to require constant handholds. Fingertips serve as outriggers, resting on the stone, rather than grabbing it. The friction between the nonskid sole of a climbing shoe and the grainy anorthosite rock of the Adirondacks can hold the climber fast at surprisingly steep angles. “Friction is a very delicate form of climbing,“ Cunningham says. If the climber leans too far forward, he comes to rest more on his toes and less of his soles touch the rock, reducing friction and sending him sliding downward. Leaning too far backward poses obvious problems. Slabs set at 70 degrees or steeper, including overhangs, require face climbing, in which some combination of three of your four hands and feet have a hold at one time. The free hand or foot sieeks purchase higher up and, once tested for stability, becomes part of the new tripod, allowing another hand or foot to explore. A very small irregularity in the rock can serve as a hold, such as a small nub pinched between thumb and forefinger. Minor retreats are sometimes necessary, as prospective moves are discarded as unstable. Methodical control is the standard. Lunging moves are not only unsafe but frowned on as bad form. In crack climbing, hands and feet are rammed sideways into fissures and rotated to fill the opening. A crack can also be negotiated by “opposition,“ pulling on one side with hands and pushing on the other with feet.

Rock climbing is generally a two-person game, with novices serving apprenticeships under lead climbers who assume the greater responsibility and risk. The lead climber, tied to the opposite end of a 150-foot rope from his partner, reads the rock face, selects the general route, test the moves and decides where and how to place protection. Protection varies, but it is generally a metal nut or chock attached to a loop. These nuts have largely replace the hammer and piton because they are less troublesome and don’t scar the rock as much. As he climbs, the leader jams a nut in a crack, attaches a carabiner, or aluminum ring, to the loop and pushes the rope that his partner has been feeding out through the carabiner gate. His route rarely is a straight line and the rope trailing behind can take on the look of a jagged line connecting random dots.
Should the leader slip, his partner would make the rope fast and the leader would find himself suspended near the protection point. If the leader loses his hold after climbing 10 feet past his protection, he will fall 20 feet,10 feet down to the protection and another 10 feet below it.

Canandaigua Daily Messenger, June 1983