Its always an odd thing, actually achieving. After all, I do spend an awful amount of time falling off. I'm not sure wether this is actually down to poor sending mentality, or actually enjoying the process far to much to actually want it to come to an end. Possibly a bit of both?
This is potentially 'old news' right now, and maybe to me in a way. The way the movement felt is still bubbling away inside, but very much fading to an ebb in my subconscious (as they all do). My Own Private Idaho was a huge step forward in my bouldering of late, and the effort that had to be put in to achieve this, some what off the couch, was borderline tremendous.
It does seem that I go through fits and shits of managing to get myself up to a decent standard over a period of say, three to four months, only to have it all whisked away by work and other life commitments. I'm a busy man with three kids of the ages 7 weeks old to 8 years old. I work around 70 hours a week and drive up to an average of 1300 miles Monday to Friday (that's Llanberis to Austria in 'real-time'). This makes climbing at and then past your potential tricky, and maintaining and improving absolutely fucking desperate.
I must admit, I watch young hotshots these days and do think - 'Come on, you can do so much better' (them, not me). Surely with all of that time on your hands... But then again, there is definitely a lack of imagination and wizardry going on - its so much easier to repeat than to search, clean, train, work the sequence, repeatedly fail, and then win - maybe. I think my most enjoyable part of the process is to clean a bloc, and chalk up the holds, finally standing back to admire what's been been created from a dormant piece of rock, now so much more than it once was (sorry, the only good hippy's a dead one kids!).
Maybe it's the lack of time that gets me geared to go full on when I do get the time. Basically, I have no time to waste, so tend to not fuck about when I get out and about. So, this time I have decided that enough most definitely is not enough and I very much have some grown up aims to realise. So, time to move on, onwards and upwards ticking the big ones just as I should be.
As for the naming of Private Idaho: Homoeroticism aside, to me being up there working this was very much akin to narcolepsy as I understand it. Being totally aware of getting to a place, looking around and pottering and then... Two hours have come and gone, time to check the hour. What happened there? I get so wrapped up when I climb alone that I really do disappear for a short while, waiting for a calm in the atmosphere. Waiting for the that perfect moment to pull. Waiting for the perfect time to move on.