Cruxing in the Canyon. Chulilla, Spain.
Sometimes, even the best-laid plans go awry, but that’s often when the magic happens. I had envisioned capturing a classic shot of this Chulilla Canyon while not missing out on a day of climbing. The plan was simple: meet Blake in the late afternoon, after we’d both climbed in the morning, and get that perfect shot. But as with all things in life, timing is everything.Blake ended up running late, and we found ourselves racing against the daylight. I could feel the photographer’s anxiety creeping in, knowing the clock was ticking. But this was Blake’s onsight attempt, and the last thing I wanted to do was rush her. These routes are epic—many stretching over 40 meters—meaning long jumars, time-consuming climbing, and the crux of this particular line was at the end of the route. As the light continued to slip away, I wrestled with the fear of losing the shot, but something in me held steady. Perhaps it was meant to be or just a bit of old fashion dumb luck, but as Blake reached the crux, the canyon was bathed in this perfect moody twilight. The clouds held just enough texture to keep the sky interesting, and I managed to capture the best of Blake’s formidable determination on the route as it happened. In the end, the moment was perfect—not because it went according to plan, but because it didn’t. The twilight hour, the effort etched on Blake’s face, the towering canyon walls—it all came together in a way I couldn’t have scripted.
Ellen Meads
