Old People

If you're a teenager and a climber, it's quite possible that the most formidable obstacle to leading your ideal climbing lifestyle is transportation. When I was 16, I wanted to go climbing all the time, but I didn't have a car or a license. If you find yourself in this situation and aren't content to wallow in the gym, it may mean that you'll have to strike a deal with the devil: there's one demographic that can help you, but it's also the one that paradoxically none of us wants to deal with. I'm speaking, of course, about old people. I understand your reservations. Old people (which, when you're a teenager is broadly defined as anyone over 20) are decidedly uncool and a serious harsh on your buzz - but they're also a necessary evil. I've climbed with lots of old people in my day, and I can honestly say that it was worth it. Besides scoring rides, in the end, I did make some good friends. But you have to know how to navigate those Ben Gay-smelling waters.  Here are some tips:

Making contact - The first thing is to establish a friendship with an old person.  It is probably not a good idea to answer an ad on Craig's list that reads "40-something SWM looking for teenager to share belay and more."  The gym is a good place to start.  You will have to learn how to talk to an old person.  While there are no hard and fast rules, many enjoy discussing politics, fine wines, and their colonoscopies.  You may also want to offer them some hard tack.

Dealing with idiosyncrasies - The first time I went climbing with this Russian guy, Igor, he roared up in his white 1982 Firebird, the hood emblazoned with a giant flaming firebird.  He was sporting a pair of jams, aviator sunglasses, and a spectacular John Waters mustache. When we first arranged to go climbing, he didn't have any of these with him. Igor worked out great as a climbing partner, but it's important to be aware that old people have had longer to pick up strange habits and characteristics (which can be amplified if they're foreign).

Dealing with the Rents - It's probably a good idea to run your old person by your parents, but be prepared for this to be extremely embarrassing. I remember watching from afar all those uncomfortable screening sessions by the woodpile between my parents and older climbing partners. The conversation usually ran something like, "Are you going to try to get my son drunk and have sex him? Don't try to get my son drunk and have sex with him."

Developing mental ear plugs - If you're hitting the road with old people, you're probably going to hear some pretty terrible music. Celine Dion, Jimmy Buffet, and '70s butt rock - this was the soundtrack of most of my teenage climbing trips, and I've never fully recovered.

Not acting your age - If you do something age-appropriate for a teenager, namely, something incredibly stupid, you'll have to be prepared to live it down for the rest of your life. I'm 27 now, and occasionally I still have to endure listening to my old people friends tell me about that time when I was 16, drank too much Absolut, crawled around the floor all night talking about how awesome it was, and lost my lip ring in the toilet after I threw up. 

When the student becomes the teacher - Things change when you become a better climber than your old climbing partner - sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse. Your old friend could choose to live vicariously through you like a proud soccer parent, or become insanely jealous of your far superior skills. Either way, tread lightly on their egos. If you're in the middle of your 5.13 onsight giving them beta on the crux of their 5.12 project, avoid saying something like, "Yeah, just go from that jug to that jug to that other jug."

Paying it forward - You will become an old person much faster than you realize. (I know, I'm now as old as the youngest of my old people were when I was a teenager, and I've just begun to smell funny.) The time may come when it's your turn to be an old climbing partner to some young kid. I'm not saying that you should seek out some youngster - you don't want to be creepy. Just be ready if some pimple-faced punk comes up to you, asking you about your latest colonoscopy, and begging for a ride.