When it came to choosing a first date activity, I used to go with the classics: coffee or drinks. Then I started climbing. I instantly fell in love with the sport, and was spending almost all of my free time in the gym. I also started taking first or second dates to the climbing gym.
It seemed like the perfect date activity: It was in a public, safe place, it gave us something to talk about, and I got to share something I loved with a potential partner.
After several mishaps (and one serious injury), however, I’ve changed my tune. I learned plenty about myself and how to pursue dating as an outdoorsy person.
The Why
Like many new climbers, I had unbridled enthusiasm for the sport. And it seemed natural to me to want to share that with a person I’m dating.
It acted as a kind of PowerPoint presentation about me: Look, here’s this hobby I’m obsessed with, and now you’ll understand it when I talk about it. It made me feel confident and strong, and I wanted to show that side of myself to this new person.
If I’m honest with myself, years later, I think I also liked what it said about me. Climbing gave this image of me as an active, adventurous, bold, and cool person.
Going on climbing dates had other benefits. Since I was a gym member, I could get a guest in for free, making it an affordable date. The gym is also a casual, relaxed environment. You’re never going to be worried about whether you’re dressed up enough.
It also felt safer. It was a public space, and I’d often schedule the dates on a Saturday afternoon, in broad daylight. The risk that a date would slip something into my drink — or try something worse — was much lower here than at a bar.
The Dates
The Beginners
Some of the men I took on these dates had never climbed in their lives. Others climbed just as much as me. No matter what their experience level was, however, each date was a failure in its own way.
With the total newbies, I wasn’t trying to show off or brag about my climbing skills. I just wanted to share something with them that was special to me. However, the power and gender dynamics often threw a wrench in that plan.
The situation, at its core, set up an imbalance. One of us was an “expert;” the other knew nothing. It’s natural that anyone would feel uncomfortable in that scenario. If a pro frisbee golfer took me frolfing for our first date, I imagine I’d also worry about looking foolish in comparison.
Some men’s egos also proved to be a problem. I’m an average climber, but just due to my experience, I was better than they were. And it was so clear that some men just couldn’t deal with a woman being superior to them at a physical activity.
Instead of climbing a boulder and then chatting with me for a bit before doing another one (my ideal situation), they would just spend the entire time on the wall, desperate to prove they were better than me.
It would get to the point where 20 minutes would go by, and the only thing they’d say is, “Hold on. I got this,” as they continued to throw themselves at a boulder. This wasn’t exactly conducive to getting to know someone.
Sometimes, that desire to show that they were willing to stick with it proved disastrous. To stay safe while bouldering, climbers should fall with a specific technique, and one date did the opposite. He tried to stick the landing off a boulder like a gymnast, and then immediately slumped to the ground, clutching his back.
He had seriously injured himself, and his back was spasming. As I helped walk him to his car, I felt such guilt about his injury, which lasted for more than a month. That incident alone was enough to make me rethink my climbing date strategy. It’s hard enough to get to know someone on a date — let alone when there are potential life-altering injuries at risk.
The Climbers
If I met someone on a dating app and found out they climbed, I’d be thrilled. I thought: Here was someone who would understand my obsession and who could also be a belay partner.
But in practice, going on dates with climbers posed its own challenges. I remember meeting a climber for coffee, with the plan that we’d boulder at the gym for a bit after. An hour and two cappuccinos later, he insisted that we go climb outside together.
As someone who talked about loving climbing outside, I didn’t feel like I could say no, but I was profoundly uncomfortable. I didn’t know how safely this person belayed, and I didn’t particularly want to go in the woods with a stranger.
I resorted to my people-pleasing tendencies, and we spent the next several hours together climbing outside. While I did ultimately date this person for a while, this was “too much, too fast” for a first date. With one person 40 feet up in the air and one person on the ground, we didn’t even really get to talk much.
To most climbers, the gym is their comfort zone, a safe space where they feel like they can be themselves. Normally, that’s great. On dates, it resulted in some strange conversations. I think the comfort these men felt in the gym meant they lowered their guard a little too much.
I was on a climbing date with someone who had passed the belay test, so I let him belay me as I climbed top rope. As soon as I came down, he commented on how much he enjoyed the view. I looked at him quizzically, until he remarked that he’d belay me any time in order to see my ass in a harness. There’s no great way to respond to someone who says that 20 minutes after you meet them.
With other climbers, the activity became a crutch in our conversation. If there was an awkward pause, as there are on many first dates, we’d fill the void by talking about climbing. Having this safe topic of discussion actually prevented us from getting to know each other better.
Instead of talking about our work or other passions or interests, we’d fall straight back to climbing. I’d walk away from the date knowing very little about the person other than their favorite outdoor climbing spot and current project.
And of course, there was the inevitable fallout. If I dated a climber for a bit and it didn’t work out, I’d see them all the time at the gym. Even if a breakup is amicable, no one wants to constantly run into their ex.
The Change
I became so accustomed to taking new men I was dating to the gym that my friends would give me grief for it. If they saw me at the gym with a guy they didn’t know, they’d ask me if I’d finally found “the one.”
I’m apparently not the only one who’s connected climbing with dating. One media site declared climbing gyms “the new sexy single scene.” (Men: Please don’t troll the gym for dates.)
People once joked that run clubs and Strava were dating apps for outdoorsy people. Now it seems like climbing gyms have acquired the same status. There’s even a climbing-specific dating app called Boulder.
I understand the inclination to tie your hobby to your romantic life, but I’ve learned to only do that in due time. Going on climbing dates early on can be awkward or uncomfortable for the other person, and is a pretty ineffective way to try to get to know someone.
Dating is a nightmare, and I believed going on climbing dates and using outdoor activities to anchor my relationships would save me from those horrors. Even if someone did share my love of climbing and the outdoors, though, that was no guarantee of a healthy, functional relationship.
Now, I wait to take someone to the climbing gym until we’ve been seeing each other for a while. We have a greater comfort level with each other, and it’s more about showing them my passion than trying to see if they’d be someone I’d want to date.
As someone whose greatest passions are climbing and backpacking (and who literally makes a living writing about them), I used to think a romantic partner had to share these things with me for us to have a relationship. In my mind, if someone wasn’t a climber or willing to be a climber, it wasn’t going to work out.
Now that I’m older, and hopefully a bit wiser, I’ve realized what a flawed line of thinking this is. My love of the outdoors is a key component of what makes me who I am. But that’s not true for everyone, and it’s not fair to expect that of people. A prospective partner doesn’t need to come with me for a weeklong climbing trip — they just have to be supportive of it.
I love what I do in the outdoors because of the confidence, mental clarity, and resilience it gives me. A person can appreciate and love those parts of me without engaging in those activities themselves. It’s OK for me to keep some passions just for myself — and it’s not a bad idea to keep the gym free from a bunch of my ex-boyfriends.
