The Grip

In a recent blog post, I spoke of iconic images. An image that defines a place or an experience.

Iconic images can also define a sport. The images of the human body pushing beyond our understanding of its limits to accomplish a desired goal. Michael Jordan stretching through the air for a slam dunk - an image so iconic the silhouette is on every advertisement for the athletic shoes that bear his name. You can see it in your mind right now.

I wasn't out to find an iconic image when I started hiking around Smith Rock State Park, the rock climber's mecca in central Oregon.

I've been fascinated with rock climbers for years.

I'll often fantasize that I am climbing rocks and boulders along these sleek, toned and tanned specimens of humanity. Then I look in the mirror, try a push up or two and then pick up my camera and trekking poles again. it's good to fantasize.

I figured I would try at least to make a few images of rock climbers.

One problem with photographing rock climbing when you're not a rock climber is that you are often stationary on the ground and behind and below the climbers. You capture a lot of back and butts. But once in a while you get lucky and find a side view of a climber or a profile as they search for their next hold.

And that's what I was photographing, backs and butts and the occasional profile. I was contemplating where I could move for better framing when a couple of men showed up, helmet-less with t-shirts and cargo shorts. With efficiency, they dropped their gear bags, harnessed up and one started scaling the wall. I watched in admiration (honestly, they were the sleek, toned and tanned human specimens I so admire).

Climber's arm reached out for a hold. I watched as muscle and sinew stretched under his skin, tanned to match the wall he was climbing an knew. I focused only on his forearms as they guided him up the wall.

This for me is the iconic image of rock climbing - the beauty of a body in its natural element, becoming the sport to excellence in movement.