Climbing lessons from owlets

Barred owlet "Floof" on a first ascent

One year ago this week, I started taking climbing seriously. As an avid hiker, wilderness explorer, and general outdoorsperson, I’ve had plenty of experience scrambling, route-finding, and getting myself on top of rock outcroppings. But, after years of avoiding technical climbing and a few too many un-roped and amateurish close calls, I decided to learn the ropes.

For the first several weeks, I wasn’t sure I even liked climbing. That time involved a lot of mistakes, banged-up knees, ripped-open callouses, a tarnished ego, swearing, and frustration. I wanted to climb harder routes and boulders well and skillfully, and fast – an unreasonable goal.

So, I climbed as much I could. I took classes from guides, subscribed to two dozen climbing YouTube channels, devoured some climbing books, and observed and befriended more advanced climbers so I could absorb their knowledge. As I grew my skills and confidence, I fell in love with it. About two months in, I knew I was a lifer. Since then, I’ve enjoyed pushing myself and learning new disciplines, while being honest and respectful about the huge amount of knowledge, skill, and wisdom I’ve yet to obtain.

As in other passions, I turn to the natural world for lessons and inspiration. One of my favorite pursuits these past few years has been finding and photographing owls, specifically nesting pairs. As I was observing several owls’ nests this year, and with climbing on my mind, I realized they could teach me a few things.

When young owls (owlets) prepare to leave the nest, they spend a lot of time practicing and preparing. Their wings aren’t fully operational yet, so they must climb (or branch) first. During this process, they frequently fall to the ground, where they are most vulnerable. So, they have to climb back up, and a single tree climb can last hours. Over the years, I’ve observed some owlets on their “first ascents,” and I think there are some interesting lessons for a new climber like me. Of course, we’re not owls. We use hands and feet, and they use talons and beaks. They climb trees, and we climb rocks and mountains. So, what could they possibly teach us?

Well, here are four takeaways from my owlet climbing instructors.

Everybody falls

Fully inspect your surroundings: Most of the owlets I observe begin their lives deep inside a tree cavities. It takes weeks before they’re old enough to poke their head out and look around. With their big eyes and bobbly heads, they obsessively inspect their terrain. By the time they are ready to venture out of the nest, they are already intimately aware of what’s out there – a wise approach. Likewise, climbing has given me that extremely heightened level of awareness of my surroundings, and I always try to keep that focus.

Rest often: Owlets and new climbers tire easily. And that’s because strength and endurance are gained over time. I hate resting. I frequently find myself moving fast early and passing natural resting points, only to get pumped out near the end and missing a move or taking a slip. When I watch an owlet in a tree, they rest way more than they climb, and they use whatever holds they have available to them. They take their time and never seemed rushed. This gives me the kind of reminder I need: that taking a break is a necessary part of any physically or mentally challenging endeavor. And the ability to rest whenever possible helps successfully complete harder projects and prevent injury, which are my two main goals.

Watch, learn, send: Owlets pay close attention to their parents and are great imitators. Before attempting something, it seems an owlet has first thought about it a lot. When the biggest owlet of the brood first fledges, you can bet the smallest is taking notes. And when it’s finally time to go for it, they are all in. Observing others and building mental preparedness has been key to my growth as a climber. Everyone’s shape, skills, and style are different, and I love watching someone else climb the same route and noticing the movements I never would’ve made. “Whoa, that was cool – I need to try that,” is a thought I’ve had many times, and I imagine something similar goes through the minds of a fledgling owlet.

Stay stoked: I know I’m anthropomorphizing a lot here, but this year was a really special one for me with owlets. I got to see this owlet’s first foray from the nest and watch it take its first big fall. It deployed its not-yet-functional wings, but still fell pretty quickly, landing in a smooth-ish manner in a pile of leaves. It looked around while on the ground and, upon realizing he was okay, stared at me. On his face, I read a look that said: “Did you just see that?! That was gnarly!” Owlets just seem stoked to be owlets, and they enjoy learning. Whenever I’m frustrated or a bit nervous, I try to remember that the whole purpose of this endeavor is to have fun, to push my limits, and to just enjoy being alive. Like these adorable owlets.