Wherever children have access to trees, and the ability to do so, they climb them. I was no different. There was a big tree in our front yard that I (faintly) remember ascending when I was young. I also recall that I got stuck in it at least once or twice, yelling for help to get down. I probably climbed plenty of other trees in my youth, but I can really only remember that one in the front yard, my first one.
At a certain point, children grow up and leave the trees behind, at least in my part of the world; perhaps it differs elsewhere. I’m not sure why they stop, though I’ve wondered about it. We leave lots of things behind as we mature. Our increasingly complex intelligence outgrows certain toys or cartoons, for example. But, it’s not uncommon to carry physical activities into adulthood: running, biking, sports. So why not tree climbing? Clambering up branches feels like the sort of primal exercise that should stick with us throughout our lives.
The basic human activity of climbing does carry past youth in at least one specific form: rock climbing, which, unlike tree climbing, is an acceptable adult activity. There are specialized gyms, equipment companies, and even paid professional climbers. No one bats an eye if you start with it as a child, and keep going throughout your later years. You’re lauded as athletic and cool.
However, on the rare occasions when people notice me in the trees, their reaction is usually more amused than admiring. I am out of place, a rarity.1 As they walk through the park, they point me out to their companions and I hear them saying, incredulously, “there’s a person in that tree!” This is not to say that I feel mocked, but the attention is of a type that can feel uncomfortable.
I usually make efforts to ensure that people do not notice me.
Admittedly, if tree climbers like me were abundant, I might not do it any more. I’ve always liked being the rare one, with unique interests and knowledge. I acknowledge the tension that exists there, with my desire to be weird pushing against my desire to not feel weird for being weird. Perhaps some of you understand that.
Not every child stops climbing trees, of course. Besides arborists, coconut harvesters, and others who earn money among the branches, you can find a few enthusiasts online publishing videos or magazine articles. There’s also Tree Climbers International, a small hobbyist group with a global membership of fewer than 1,000 people. I haven’t engaged much with these other outposts of tree climbing on the internet, and maybe we’ll talk about that in a future letter.2 But, a handful of us are out there, though I’ve never happened upon another adult climbing trees in my city.
After childhood, I climbed only infrequently, sometimes going years between climbs. I couldn’t really tell you what I was thinking back then, but I imagine that whatever mental block stops other adults probably slowed me down. Maybe it was just the sense of “this isn’t something adults do,” and the self-consciousness that accompanies crossing that barrier.3 It wasn’t until my late 30s that I finally decided to embrace it as a serious hobby and form of exercise.
I still get self-conscious. I’m happy and comfortable chatting about my hobby with people, but actually performing it in front of strangers is another matter. One time a passerby stopped to watch me climb a particularly open American elm, and I felt her eyes on me the entire time. I was sufficiently uncomfortable that I considered abandoning my ascent. Admittedly, I’m a naturally self-conscious person, but I definitely feel much more so when I climb a tree than when I (used to) visit the climbing gym. I hope that the experience of writing Dryad may prove helpful, letting me ascend more boldly.
I know the joy which leads children to climb trees. What I don’t know is what makes most of them stop.
An article from Explore Magazine helpfully reminds readers that “YES! [Tree climbing] is a Thing.”
Short answer: many resources out there concern technical climbing, involving a variety of gear, whereas I’m a free climber.
I just stumbled across a forum post in which a person says their family told them “Don't you think you're a bit old for that?” when mentioning tree climbing.
cartographer Reynold Mackey https://carvedearth.com also climbs trees, but vocationally (he's an arborist)
Happy to learn you free climb. Technical gear is...cumbersome. And much less joyful.