Climbing gym on Vancouver Island. It's about 60 feet high, with a massive motorized door that opens it to the outside world, or not. Note the very clitoral orange volume near the top center.
A post about women in setting has been a long time coming. In some ways, it seemed inevitable as I am the only female setter at my gym even though the regular staff is pretty equal among the genders. Listening to the Power Company Podcast on women in climbing was the final provocateur of inspiration, but conversations with coworkers, customers, and even other setters got me thinking about the subject.
I’m generally averse to talking about such a touchy conversation as it is not my prerogative to offend or insult in a culture of differences and misunderstanding, but sometimes, it seems necessary to say or do something as I have this position in my workplace, in my community. So, I’m starting by saying something. Here.
When I interviewed to work at the Circuit Bouldering Gym, I made clear my desire to be a routesetter at some point, and there was one female setter, Tonya, among about ten setters. I didn’t think about it at the time because the only thing that mattered was that I set at all--not whom I set with.
Soon after Tonya left the Circuit a few months later, Danielle started setting; so there was a woman setting again. Maybe six months later, Danielle left as she completed her master’s program and went home to Missouri, and another couple of months passed before the Circuit made me a setter.
Part of the appeal, to the Circuit, of hiring me as a setter was that I am small and a woman. That just means that I have a degree of uniqueness in how I climb and in my climbing experience compared to the nine other routesetters who are all male.
It’s important to note that a person’s setting style doesn’t necessarily reflect that person’s climbing style. For example, Max is really strong on compression on slopers and enjoys competition-style boulders, but he doesn’t just set that style; he has set a number of great static crimp lines. In my opinion, a good routesetter is skilled in setting many various styles of climbs (this is something to which I aspire and actively work on).
It’s also important to note that not all of the setters at the Circuit have developed that skill--or have even tried to. That being said, hiring a setter whose climbing strengths include something different from the other setters is generally a plus; in my case, it turned out that I am better at setting in my style (primarily because I am very familiar with the movement and difficulty) which is generally reliably conducive to widely varying climbs on a given day.
Aside from how the sets would turn out in terms of diverse climbs, a number of customers expressed desire to climb boulder problems set by a woman. I’m not sure that a woman has some intrinsic value that a man doesn’t have and that gives certain value to a climb she sets, but I imagine people could feel more attached to a climb if they know certain things about the person who set the climb.
Regardless, customers wanted a female setter, and that helped my case too. It turned out, sort of as expected, that women tend to enjoy my climbs because, as aforementioned, it turned out that I am better at setting in my climbing style--a style which resonates with a lot of other female climbers (and children, actually).
So, the major advantages, in theory, of hiring me as a setter happened to, in actuality, be advantages for the diversity of climbs and for female climbers.
Soon after I started setting regularly, one of my coworkers and I chatted about women in setting, and she said that setting interests her--but it’s intimidating.
It is a lot of work. Between all of the logistics around putting up a climb (not even logistics about putting up a climb)--moving ladders, setting up barriers, putting out holds--there’s a lot of work. The walking up and down ladders and climbing / editing the routes are another story, but then add in fixing spinners--and there are more expectations and more responsibility than one might expect.
However, I’m not sure if she meant all of the work is intimidating or if being one of very few (or none other) women is intimidating. If it’s the latter, I understand to a certain extent. I remember moving to London and experiencing something like immediate community with other Americans as opposed to people of other nations. There’s something comforting about seeing people like you in a new place or new environment, and there’s something unnerving about being around people who come from very different places (physical and social) than you.
On the other hand, the fact that setting (at the Circuit, but also in general) is statistically and historically male-dominated hasn’t bothered me. It certainly didn’t deter from my desire to set; if anything, it presented itself as more reason for me to set.
A major part of the reason it never bothered me is that I really, really wanted to set and didn’t care about who else sets. I was determined to become a setter, and whether or not other people like me also did it never mattered to me. I once told my friend that I get what I want--but I didn’t mean it in a spoiled or arrogant way. I just meant that if I really wanted something, I would put in the work required to get it regardless of barriers.
Another part is that I have the type of personality that enjoys and finds meaning in being the only [x] in a group. For some things (like pursuing setting), succeeding as the only woman is my way of showing others that society can’t stop me from doing what I want to do, that sexism or biases can’t hold me back--nor can it hold other people back. To a certain extent, the pursuit of proving that I could become a setter overcame any nerves around being the only woman setter in my workplace.
So, what has it been like since I started setting? What has my experience been as the only woman setter among ten setters?
My fellow setters have never treated me differently in the workplace because I am a woman. Most of the differences simply boil down to differences in climbing ability (reach, height, pulling strength, climbing style). I am one of the weakest setters and definitely the smallest one, and those aspects affect me more on the setting team than being a woman does.
Even at that, it’s not like my size or strength always affect me negatively. Usually, they do because it means I can pull less or reach less than the male setters. But there have been times when being small meant that I could fit more comfortably into a “box” or space of bodily positioning on the wall. Another advantage of my size is that my fingers can hold onto disquietingly small holds.
Anyway, my general experience with the other setters has been quite positive. Most of the setters, most of the time, are really helpful and encouraging with feedback as well. David, in particular, has been a great mentor in my learning process in setting; if something doesn’t go well, he helps me understand why something didn’t work the way I wanted it to and helps me see ways to avoid or work with similar situations.
The primary negative of being the only woman on the setting team is that my specifically-female bodily functions disturb my setting and climbing. Cramps, for example, cause major interference with my climbing and my focus. Need I get into more detail?
What I’ve also felt is that customers’ eyes are on my sets. Some customers have talked to me about how much they enjoy or struggle on my climbs because the climbs suit them or not. Such customers will often mention something like, “Your setting is different from the guys’! The box is smaller, more female-friendly.” One time, a male customer told me that it was refreshing to see his wife cruise some climbs which challenged him more.
Aside from customers’ comments, I also feel that customers--male especially--watch me on a set day. That feeling may be based on real occurrences, or it could be all in my head. My thoughts are that it’s hard not to notice one small girl doing this hard work with five dudes.
I’m not sure what, if anything, these customers think when they see that, but that feeling makes me pretty insecure and self-conscious. What if they think I don’t belong? What if they’re impressed? Is there a certain image or reputation I should keep up?
Like I said, that feeling might not even be based on reality; people might not really be watching me as the only woman on the setting team. But that’s beside the point. The point is that I am aware of my being the only woman on the setting team and, further, that that awareness affects how I feel about being the only woman there.
Like pursuing setting, not letting it get to me (not giving a shit, caring more about the activity itself as opposed to who else is there) is a solution to that negative feeling. Isn’t it easier said than done, though? I suppose it may be something to work on, something that I’ll come to terms with in time.
Do any of you have experiences like this? What are your thoughts?
Do you ever have those days on which you’re just a little disappointed by how most things go--not because they go poorly, but because they just don’t go well? Because they don’t go the way you hope for them to?
That was today for me. Nothing in particular went wrong until the end of the set day, but nothing really went right.
Today, we set two long roofs and a short, mildly overhanging wall--all of which are sections of the gym that I despise setting.
The long roofs are hard to set in because it’s terrain that I do not climb frequently and that I do not enjoy climbing. It’s not that I find cave climbing overwhelmingly difficult. Sure, it is not my style. However, I still climb within one grade of my redpoint. Climbing in a cave is just exhausting; I move too slowly to have a long-lasting session in a long roof.
While I enjoy climbing on the short wall, setting on that wall presents further challenge in considering moves that can be skipped by going straight to the top of the wall--straight to the lip. Because the wall is, at its high point, just about eight feet high, a relatively tall climber need only be a foot off of the ground in order to make the move with the right holds from which to generate. Breaking beta is one thing (by which I’m usually not upset), but skipping moves really take away from a climb. As a setter, I have to keep that in mind and should generally avoid setting a skippable climb.
Regardless of the sections, I still set seven boulder problems today: three between the two caves and four on the short wall. In the caves, I set a v2, a v3, and a v4, and on the short wall, a v0, a v1, a v4, and a v5.
The v4 in the cave took the longest to climb and edit because it was a funky problem. My idea was that a climber would do about half of the climb feet-first with toe hooks, heel hooks, and toe-ins, and that’s something with which I hadn’t previously experimented which means setting it isn’t a skill that I’ve developed. While I’ve set some types of movement (traversing, shoulder-y sequences, compression) and honed those skills, feet-first movement is not among those types. So, it took some toying-around on the climb to make it work.
Interestingly, Royce (head routesetter) and I were fiddling with it for a while and had to take a break and move on to another climb. But later, Sean climbed it a certain way that Royce and I hadn’t tried--and it suddenly went! It was suddenly doable within the grade.
Even more interestingly, Sean said it was a fun climb. I didn’t think that it was a boring climb, but I got to the point, in setting and editing it, at which the only way I was evaluating the climb was by how many edits it took; I wasn’t evaluating the climb on how well it moved anymore. While it’s still not something I want to climb (as I don’t frequent the roof), it really isn’t a boring climb; it’s quite appealing, even.
All of my other climbs were okay. All of them took some edits, but no one was as difficult as that v4. Some were fun climbs to me, but no one stood out. I’m sure people will enjoy the climbs, and that’s fine.
A few days ago, David (assistant head routesetter) and I were chatting about setting, and he told me that I should try to set a route by first choosing holds that I really like and by second choosing a grade that I like to set. He reminded me of that at the start of the day as well.
It was quite a challenge to accompish that today because I looked at the hold selection, thought about the sections being set, and had trouble determining if any holds I liked that were out could go at the grades I like to set in the given sections.
My favorite grades to set are v1, v2, and v7. For whatever reason, setting v3-v6 is fairly difficult for me (an interesting relation is that those are the same grades for which we setters get the most complaints--about the routes being too hard, too reachy, or something). But I do not think I have the skill to set a v7 in a roof, and the short wall only gets set up to v6. So, that left v1 or v2, but those grades, in a roof, can usually only be on jugs of sorts. On the short wall, any interesting holds usually make for straight-forward movement in order to ease physical intensity. For example, slopers can be put on a v2, but they might be hard for a v2 climber to hold onto; so, the movement and pulling has to be on the easier side.
David’s challenge would be good for me though. I would be really excited to set a climb of a grade that I like and on holds that I like. I can imagine that I would walk away from the set day feeling good about that climb at the least, and that’s an encouraging feeling.
David checked in at the end of the day, and when I told him how I found it difficult with the hold selection and sections’ terrain, he said that I can try again next week--or every week. He said, “It would be good if you walk away from each set feeling stoked about at least one climb you set,” and I think that’s true.
However, that only happens about half of the time for me, and it usually depends on the holds available that day and on the terrain of the walls that we are setting that day. If there are a bunch of thin but comfortable crimps and if we’re setting mild overhang, then I am likely to set a decent v7. But if there are a ton of old, big holds and if we’re setting a steep wall, then I’m doomed.
The other half of the time, I walk away, pretty apathetic about how I performed as a setter. It’s not that those are exactly bad days; they’re just not good days. I want good days.
Today was a “just not bad” day. I still have much to learn.
(If you’re wondering what went wrong at the end of the day, then here: I got a bad spinner. We had to use the dremel on the t-nut, punch the bolt out of the wall, and cut the bolt. Compared to other things that could’ve gone wrong--injury, broken ladder, etc.--it really wasn’t even that bad.)