Story by Jenna Calderón
Mitch Singstock stands in three feet of snow, the bottoms of his jeans engulfed in white. In Estes Park, Colorado, Mitch finds himself 10 thousand feet in the air, near the top of a mountain.
They stop to catch their breath and spot a frozen lake just ahead, sitting still and serene. Mitch and his brother, Nick, have already spent 30 minutes looking for a specific rock Nick saw in pictures of Estes Park. They base their search strictly off of Nick’s memory of where it might be, but Mitch doesn’t mind.
“I personally really enjoy getting lost and having to figure out where I am,” he said.
To anyone else, the landscape would appear to be an insignificant boulder field; nothing special. But a seasoned rock climber like Mitch is looking for the perfect structure. The needle in the haystack.
At long last, they find the one, concealed in a layer of snow.
Mitch removes his shoes, his bare feet planted on the frozen ground beneath him. He grabs his rubber climbing slippers and attempts to yank them on with great difficulty; they’re tight, and his frigid feet struggle to cooperate. This is what Mitch would call type-two fun: it’s not fun in the moment, but fun to reflect on later.
In fact, this is his favorite climbing memory. But rock climbing didn’t always hold such a special place in his heart.
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Mitch grew up in Cincinnati, Ohio, just a few hours drive from Red River Gorge, Kentucky. When he was in 6th grade, Mitch joined his father, an experienced climber himself, for his first trip to the Gorge.
Red River used to be part of an ancient coral reef, where, over time, animals would chip away at the rock and create complex pockets.
“All of those little imperfections and fractures are things that you can wedge your hands and your feet into,” Mitch says.
The spot was perfect for climbing, but he didn’t appreciate it at the time.
“I didn’t like [climbing] at all,” he laughs. “Over time, I slowly got back into it.”
But that wasn’t until years later, when he and his brother, Nick, went on a trip.
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When Mitch was a senior in high school, he realized he didn’t need the typical, relaxing summer after graduation. What he was looking for was adventure.
“I graduated high school, and I wanted to do something different,” Mitch says.
He and Nick packed up their car and drove to Wyoming, a trip Nick had already made once before.
The pair spent part of July and August tent-camping in Ten Sleep and Wild Iris, Wyoming, two spots you won’t see on a map—their populations only number around one thousand people. Mitch and Nick limited their indoor interactions to trips to get groceries once a week.
For an entire month, Mitch and Nick explored wild trails and cliffs, searching through desert and shrublands to find their next great climb. After hiking about a mile to the cliff face, the brothers would unsling their backpacks to grab their climbing supplies. Climbing chalk, check. Medical tape, check. Helmets, check.
Under the bright blue sky and beating sun, Mitch and Nick climbed for hours, only taking breaks to catch their breath and admire the view.
After taking in what Wyoming had to offer, the pair drove to Colorado for a change of scenery and to experience different climbs.
“As you climb more, you start to develop an appreciation for the rock and what sort of patterns there are,” Mitch says. “Granite feels different than sandstone, and it has very different properties, and so climbing on it is a very different experience.”
Mitch and his brother focus on two types of climbing: sport climbing on cliffs and bouldering without ropes.The latter required them to lay out thick, heavy pads on the ground below them in case of falls. Mitch stresses the importance of laying out the pads on a flat surface to avoid twisting an ankle or worse.
But the thought of falling never crosses Mitch’s mind.
“I tend to be conservative in my risk tolerance, so I don't really ever get afraid,” Mitch says. “I either won’t do something risky or I will, in which case I’m not afraid because I determined the risk level ahead of time.”
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The three year age-gap between Nick and Mitch had always created space between them. But during their trip out west, Mitch and Nick bonded like never before.
“We had an older brother-younger brother relationship, up until we started climbing together and we really became equals,” Mitch recalls.
Post-graduation is a time of finding yourself, and, for Mitch, the trip turned out to be exactly what he needed.
“It was kind of just [about] being able to do away with all the things that I don’t care about,” he said, “and really simplify the things I do care about.”
During the interview, he takes a minute to think about what that meant to him.
“Just being able to camp, sleep under the stars and not think about anything,” he says, “and [to] be disconnected from my phone for a month was...pretty exciting.”
Every morning, they’d wake up and make breakfast on their portable cook stove, pack their backpacks, and hike about an hour to a climbing spot. There were no expectations, and Mitch loved that.
He has been chasing that “free” feeling ever since.
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At the end of the summer, Mitch realized he had to come back to reality. His first year of college was about to begin.
As an eventual triple major in neuroscience, anthropology, and pre-med studies, Mitch knew college was going to involve a lot of tough academic work. But Mitch’s attitude towards his demanding majors is as relaxed as his climbing philosophy.
“I think the brain is dope,” Mitch said.
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Classes started, and there was an adjustment period as Mitch came back to civilization, both mentally and physically.
He faced the typical struggles of a student returning to school: fixing your sleep schedule, reteaching yourself everything you’ve forgotten over the months and learning how to hold your pencil again. But for Mitch, these struggles were a little different.
In Wyoming, he had nobody to impress. Nobody to judge him. Now, he had to do things like smell nice—every boy's nightmare.
“I had a girlfriend my freshman year, and she’d be like, ‘...how many days have you worn your underwear this week?’” he says. Some weeks, he’d go three days and then maybe consider changing them the next day.
“But I’m a little better now,” he promises.
Then, he had to get used to sitting in class for hours on end.
“I can’t spend more than a couple hours inside,” he says. “Otherwise, I start to get really antsy.”
But every time he looks outside, he’s reminded why he decided on Miami.
“I chose Miami because I think it’s really pretty,” Mitch says. When he finally escapes outdoors, he’s surrounded by Oxford’s beauty.
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Every day, Mitch swings from the rock wall in the middle of Miami’s Rec Center, well after the building has closed.
Mitch works as a route setter, rigging himself up to the wall, then cleaning and changing out the plastic holds once the patrons have left. By switching out the holds, the course remains interesting for those who visit frequently.
“For some people, like myself, climbing is their primary form of exercise,” he says, “so it’s nice to have new ‘problems.’”
Along with his job at the Rec, Mitch is the president of the Miami University Climbing Club, and is a teaching instructor for KNH150C, “Beginning Rock Climbing.”
But even in the midst of all these pursuits, he still can’t get enough of climbing.
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Since the Wyoming trip, Mitch has climbed in 11 states and three countries.
From part of July through August 2019, he was in Bangalore, India for medical research as a premed student. Mitch seized the perfect opportunity to climb in a new place.
“Whenever I travel anywhere, I have my climbing shoes in my bag,” he says.
He’s been on trips with the Climbing Club, too. This past fall, there were outdoor trips nearly every other week in Kentucky or West Virginia. They camp, climb, stargaze and sit around bonfires. Now, he looks forward to a trip to Nevada planned for this spring break.
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For Mitch, there is nothing unappealing about climbing. He uses every platform he can to encourage others to participate in the activity, but understands there may be some hesitance.
“It’s really intimidating starting out, because you have to contend with fear of falling and of getting hurt,” he weighs. “You kind of just have to fall that first time to know that you’ll be okay.”
Everyone has to start somewhere.
“The climbing community in general is very non-judgemental,” he says. “No one really cares what you do as long as you don’t put other people in danger.”
According to Mitch, one of the most important factors in finding the perfect climb is the question, “Is it beautiful there?”
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For Mitch, rock climbing is more than just a hobby; it’s how he communicates and bonds with people.
He lives with people from the Climbing Club, has a common interest that strengthens his relationship with his brother, and has a strong community and friends because of the sport.
Mitch met one of his best friends, Victor Pinto, through the Club. Now in medical school, Victor isn’t around much, but the two remain just as close from their time climbing outdoors together.
“You’re hungry together, you’re tired together, you’re cold together,” he says, “the happiness and the suffering bring you together.”
The friendships and community, Mitch says, are just one of the best aspects of climbing.
“For some people, it’s the challenge of it. For other people, it’s the community. And for other people, it’s the places you get to go,” he says. “For me, it’s all three.”
