Something that always strikes me about climbing is how accessible the pros are. Especially here in Colorado, you frequently see the best climbers in the world working routes and problems right next to you. I compare it to playing basketball in your local gymnasium and having Lebron James and Kevin Durant walk in and start shooting around.
Sure, I live in a climbing bubble. I know that most people don't plan their lives around rest days. I know that the most likely response to "Hey, that's Chris Sharma!" is "Who?". And I know that most people don't view ancient petroglyphs on an overhanging piece of rock the way I do — as an act of terror, perpetrated in the distant past.
Did you have to put that mess right next to the great side-pull?? You ruined a classic line, brah!
I get it... rock climbing has a pretty small fanbase. Still, Tommy Caldwell and Kevin Jorgenson were all over the news after their free ascent of the dawn wall. But there they were, just a few feet away at the Reel Rock film tour in Boulder a few weeks ago. No entourage, no separation from the crowd, and seemingly no ego. This is something that I really appreciate and value about the sport. The distance between the newbies and the pros is the few feet between the 5.10 and the 5.14 on the same piece of rock.
The sport has grown, but it hasn't entered the realm of basketball, hockey, bowling, or even ballroom dancing. There aren't tens of thousands of select youth climbing teams across the country, not many high schools have a climbing team, it's not an olympic sport, and to my knowledge there aren't any climbers with million dollar endorsement deals.
When I make it big, I'll be climbing with solid gold caribiners
When, or if, the sport grows to the point where the best climbers in the world become household names, I hope to still see them out there on the rock. Still making friendly conversation with the amateurs, still making the connection with nature that shaped their love of the sport... and still warming up on my projects.