When you are bringing all that together on a hard problem such as The Nest, how do you approach the projecting process?

The way I projected The Nest was actually new for me. Normally, even with a big project that I feel is feasible on a given trip, I still climb on lots of things and maybe go to the project once out of every three or four climbing days. That way, I feel like I'm not throwing all of my eggs into one basket (or in this case nest—sorry, had to do it), and feel psyched and motivated on most climbing days—it takes a bit of the pressure off from each individual session on the project. This time around I had three weeks, and I knew it was going to be really hard in the first place, let alone the timeframe (I like having a month minimum for big projects if possible). I opted to session almost every climbing day on it, aside from one early on to try (and fortunately do) The Shining Path (another one I'd wanted to do for years, one of the best in the US in my opinion).

The Nest is a bit of a power endurance problem; the bottom isn't all too hard but it's eight similar-style shoulder moves to get to the crux, which is a distilled couple of really powerful shoulder moves. Similar to my plans of running and feeling fresh upon arrival, I wanted to be able to climb to the crux and feel as if I'd just pulled on. I figured I'd want to get the muscle memory and fitness by just climbing on it. One of the things that makes it such an amazing hard boulder is that you can work it into oblivion; the holds are really friendly edges, and the tiered landing over a bush (where it got its name) lets you try the crux section as much as you want despite it being ten or so feet up. If that bush weren't there it honestly might still be a project, but that's a different story.

I'd tried it twice the previous year and had figured out the crux on my second day. I was trying Jimmy Webb's method, which revolves around isolating a miserable wide pinch and matching right above it. The first session I couldn't move with the pinch; the second day was ruggedly cold and the pinch felt leagues better. I did the move in isolation and climbed to the top to get it wired. Psyched out of my mind, I came back down without resting and immediately tried to do the move in isolation again and felt a crack in my left middle finger as I tried to match. I'd strained something, probably the A2, and was done climbing on it that trip. I was super mad at myself as I knew I hadn't warmed up properly, but now I knew I could do the moves and the dream grew.

Last year, it was warmer than the day I hurt myself on it, and the first session the pinch felt impossible. I decided to try Paul's method, which involves a huge bump (the crux) off the left hand to snatch the right hand Jimmy goes to, and then crossing under before rolling out to the good edge out left. I was super psyched when I finally did the bump that day, but the next couple of moves were a bit harder than with Jimmy's way. Nalle did it the same way as Paul, and both of them had fallen after doing the big bump from the bottom. Essentially, you split the difficulty between three moves instead of two, so it's overall a bit less power. I'd found a slightly different way to grab the right hand after the bump, and it seemed a little less likely to dry-fire, so I was hoping that I'd do it the first time I stuck the bump from the start.

I started sieging it, going up there for four or five hour sessions, and working on tons of micro-beta and making links for fitness. I was fortunate to be sessioning with Ethan Pringle a bunch and we shared a bunch of beta, which helped a ton. We got rained out the first day, and snowed out the fourth or fifth, but through those days I had a fairly similar routine. I'd warm up (well, so I wouldn't make the same mistake and hurt a finger again), and then start working the crux. Once I did the crux a few times in a row, I'd start giving efforts from the bottom. At first, I was barely linking to the start of the crux, but by the third or fourth day I was falling from the bump every try. Not really close to sticking it, I was coming out from the wall way too much, but at that move every time. After the fifth session, I fell at that move six or seven times in a row. I was finally arriving at the crux feeling fresh, but was not feeling much closer than the previous session, and started to get discouraged. I was wondering if the new method of just trying one climb really helped build the fitness or if I was losing power in other areas by not using them. Nalle had shown up a week or so into the trip, and I asked him what he thought and he was really positive, saying that the shoulder strength was super specific and to just keep trying, that it wasn't going to make me weaker only climbing on it.

The following session, I went up with a learning mindset, no pressure to send, but just to try and figure out what was different from starting in the stand. My girlfriend Parker had just flown in and I felt much more relaxed and psyched to get to go up there with her. I focused on the transition and how I took the holds and my position between starting from the bottom and just pulling on. I realized I was using a slightly different grip position for the right hand when coming from the bottom, and started making sure to take it like that from the bottom. It took a bit of extra effort to re-adjust, but suddenly I was actually grabbing the crux hold from the bottom rather than slapping. On my seventh or so try from the start, I stuck the move, but didn't have it perfect. You can't readjust, so I tensioned everything I had, and rolled under to the right hand. Just before switching feet to go to the last hold, my hands dry-fired simultaneously. I was super bummed, but now I felt really confident that I could do it. I didn't have enough energy to stick the crux any more that session, but I told myself now I had a real fighting chance; this had been the last step before doing it.

I took a rest day and my mind was preoccupied with it; I couldn't focus on anything else. I woke up in the middle of the night for a few hours and couldn't sleep because I was only thinking about it. I felt crazed, I was so engrossed with every minor detail, and trying to optimize every tiny thing. I wanted to sleep so bad, but I didn't fall back asleep until 6 or 7 a.m. When I don't sleep well or enough, I generally have a hard time dealing with things not going well. When I woke back up, I had a headache, which only worried me more. Parker and I went up around noon. I was so jittery and on the fence, I almost decided to bail. Instead of a healthy outlook on just working it, I was pressuring myself to do it that day. She said I might have a stress headache, which I'd never had, so I dismissed it, but looking back I think she was likely correct.

The warm up felt hard, and conditions were strange and I kept sliding off the crux hold while working it in isolation. Everything felt terrible, I still had a headache, I felt like I was regressing, and I was wondering why I was up there. I finally did the crux in isolation and started trying from the bottom. I wasn't even close. I was far back from the wall on the crux, and I was climbing the bottom badly every go. I was really frustrated, and really starting to lose it mentally. Normally, I feel pretty stable, and I make a concerted effort to not throw wobblers; I always get a bit uncomfortable when someone else does, and I don't want to make anyone else feel weird. After six goes from the bottom, I gave up on doing it that day and talked with Parker for a long time, about why I was here (initially, why I shouldn't be here), and how I was so psyched on the line, and how limit it felt, but that I wasn't sure I could do it that trip and maybe I should stop trying. I decided to just focus on even smaller details to hopefully learn something (as I hadn't yet at all that day) and stopped trying from the bottom. My biggest realization came when I realized that I had started to feel so comfortable coming from the bottom that I'd started to breathe through the crux. This disengages your core just enough to lose tension while grabbing the crux. You've already been climbing for half a minute, and suddenly you have to hold your breath for five or six seconds. It feels like you're drowning, but in this case, you have the option to breathe, so you do.