Beginners are people too

Back in September, I traveled to Orange County for a week long surf trip. I am a complete novice, despite growing up 2 blocks from the ocean, and having a "surf Dad". I figured surfing couldn't possibly be as difficult as everyone claims. After all, I have balance and strength from climbing and skiing, and I swam competitively for years. In fact, I was delighted to paddle out through the waves with ease the first time I got on the board. Catching one of those suckers, however, was an entirely different story. I was quickly overwhelmed by the size and power of the waves, particularly because I was now attached to a large, cumbersome, and frustratingly buoyant object. Most of the tricks I had learned while body surfing were rendered useless by my longboard. During those first few days, my inability to avoid wave crests by duck diving was a constant source of annoyance.

Needless to say, surfing is _not_ easy at first. Compounding matters was the intolerance of "kooks" like me by the more experienced surfers. As I improved enough to actually catch and ride waves, I was often bowled over by more aggressive surfers who appeared to deem me unworthy of the wave. I found myself paddling further and further away from other surfers, only to find some surf stud or another who seemed to relish showing off by how well he could outmaneuver me on the unwanted breaks.

Of course I should have expected all of this- having heard stories of such behavior in surf culture. But experiencing it firsthand was something completely different. As a "chill" climber, I fancied my sport immune to such antics. Not so. My experience in California made me that much more attuned to similar treatment of our own climbing "bumblies". Since the summer I have watched a fair number of instances where new climbers were shunned, ignored, or patronized by the elite.

I am equally guilty- a while ago I found myself saying nothing, and even worse still, considering packing up and leaving, as an inexperienced top roper was endangering himself on a climb. Rather than explain that using the bolt hangars as holds was probably one of the best ways to lose a finger while climbing, my first instinct was to leave before I witnessed a body part hurtling to the ground In the end, I'm ashamed to say that I never attempted to correct the new climber's dangerous habits. This time he survived unhurt, but I can't help but think about how I could have prevented him from possible future injury.

Sure, we've all experienced the frustration of attempting to help someone who is completely unreceptive to suggestions. And of course it isn't your responsibility to keep others safe, but how much effort does it really take to point out a more efficient or safer practice? It's then up to the other person whether they heed your advice. So as a reminder to all of us who have forgotten how perplexing a new sport can be: please show a little compassion- we were all newbs, kooks, or bumblies at one time.