The sun was already set when I exited the highway into Durham’s downtown. The cloudy sky was beginning to match the dark gray of the chilly urban landscape as I navigated the city blocks and parked on Rodney Street.

But I couldn’t let this bring down the energy. In the midst of finals week, I needed to get amped for any chance to practice my sports that I could get. Today, it was rock climbing at The Boulder Garden, Durham’s newest bouldering gym, which opened almost one year ago exactly, in December of 2024.

I grabbed my climbing bag and walked down a block of old industrial brick buildings. Soon, I was met with a small black sign on the sidewalk:

The Boulder Garden

Climb Connect Inspire

A very understated introduction to what was inside the adjacent doorway.

Entering the gym was like finding an oasis in the concrete desert — literally. Green plants filled the floor, with the room lit up with neon signs and string lights. The atmosphere was lively with upbeat music.

The interior of the building retained the industrial feel of its exterior and surrounding block — faded and scarred brick walls, with metal bars extruding from the roof. But one of my favorite parts of the gym was how the old met the new. You could plainly see the century of difference between this infrastructure and the new, sleek wooden walls of the climbing “island” right in the middle of the room, adorned with a rainbow of plastic climbing holds.

After checking in, I walked around the perimeter of the matted climbing zone to put my belongings in the cubbies and change into my climbing shoes. On the way, I passed by a garden of potted plants surrounding leather chairs, a piano, local art and photography that decorated the walls, and the gym’s pet snake, Dyno, a ball python. The gym seemed just as much of a hangout spot as a place to work out.

Safe to say, this gym had much more personality than the relatively soulless, head-down training centers where I typically climb.

By the cubbies, I saw a sign that listed the 10 “Garden Guidelines”, a mix of simple encouragements and rules, including #4: “Egos, stay away!” (an unfortunate foreshadowing to the humbling that was soon to follow).

An admission: I have not been on top of my climbing game as much as I’d like to have been this past semester. My time devoted to the wall, indoors and outdoors, was dedicated to more responsible matters as well as other sports. But with a resurgence in motivation the past couple of weeks, I was ready to make my return. I sat down, traded my sneakers for my tight-fitting climbing shoes, and prepared to get to work.

I joined in with a group of others working on some bouldering problems in the back right corner of the island. A purple V1 caught my eye as a good warm up (very easy on this gym’s scale, which ranged in difficulty from V1 to V10, the climb’s difficulty increasing with the numbers).

I made the smooth, approximate 10-foot ascent fairly easily without too much confusion, save the very top — I was unsure whether I was to fully climb over the island and “top-out”, another interesting aspect of the gym that aims to mimic real outdoor bouldering, or downclimb. It turned out to be the latter.

Warm-up — check. It was time to move on to the meat of my session.

I chose to stick around this area of the gym and make a slight difficulty increase to a neighboring pink V2. After watching one woman nearly climb it to completion, I figured it was my time to give it a shot.

Uh oh — much trickier this time, including some movement that required a bit of thought from my end. I made it to the top, but was hit with a final hold that needed me to maintain an awkward two-hand matching grip, while supporting myself with a just-as-awkward foot position. After less than a second of holding myself like this, I couldn’t remain stable any longer.

Did I truly fully establish myself at the top, which marks a completed climb? Maybe, maybe not. But I didn’t want to admit that I was already losing to a climb that was easy on the difficulty scale (looking back, a blatant violation of guideline #4).

Drawn in by the comfort of the group I joined and the red couch I took my rests on, I saw a green V3 in the same area, the appropriate difficulty increase that should follow. I gave it a few attempts; I got stuck on the same spot each time, which required me to press up all of my bodyweight on my right leg to give me the height to stretch and find a hold that would be followed by a top-out.

That was flat-out not going to happen that day.

That sentence could be used to describe the rest of my climbing session. I moved locations, and made my way to the more strength-intensive cave and overhang area, which required you to climb at an outward angle and fight gravity trying to pull you off the wall.

I had moderate success, completing climbs that I should have and making progress on ones right at the edge of my range. I got tired, and just couldn’t escape the feeling of being beaten by the wall.

But I realized that maybe that’s not what The Boulder Garden is about. I decided to chill out and admire the scenery of art and plants. I even hung out with Dyno the snake, all curled up in his tank, for a bit.

Eventually, I felt like my time there was complete. I returned to my cubby, packed up my things, washed my hands, and headed out the door, where I was met again by the small black sign.

Climb Connect Inspire

Climb? Check. Connect? Check. And, inspire me to get myself in shape again? Check.