When love helps you climb rocks blind

Images credit: The Washington Post

Jesse Defton, 38, a world-class climber, ascends bare rock faces without permanent bolts. Instead, he places removable metal anchors into cracks in the mountain and attaches his rope to them.

It is a sport in which one's vision, the ability to spot minor fractures or grooves in the rock, is considered vital. Jesse is completely blind. And completely dependent on his wife Molly Thompson, 40.

Jesse was born with a condition in which the light-sensing cells of his retina gradually deteriorated. Even as a child, he had only a fraction of normal vision.

Even once he and Molly had become friends and regular climbing partners, she didn't realize that his vision was so limited. He rode behind her on a bicycle, albeit cautiously. He aced engineering courses that required lab work. When he read climbing guides by stuffing his face into the book, his eyes millimeters from the text, Molly thought, "Okay, so he's nearsighted."

Then two things happened simultaneously. Jesse and Molly began falling in love. And he lost the rest of his vision.

They said almost nothing about their feelings for each other. Jesse didn't say what he wanted, which was to spend the rest of his life with Molly. But he could ask her if she was up for a climb. The sport became an excuse to be together, without talking about being together. The idea of stopping after Jesse lost his vision was unthinkable.

Molly speaks into the microphone in a near-whisper, constructing an image of the rock that draws on the climbing guidebook and what she can see as Jesse moves, explaining where he should reach next with his hands and his feet.

She needs to remain calm, to exude calmness, even if she worries he might fall. Her own nerves, she knows, could trigger his. Sometimes, when she can't make out a hold, she pretends to see one, offering just enough broad guidance to keep Jesse from freezing up. Her feigned confidence conceals terror.

There are some parts of the sport that he has become startlingly good at -- better than almost anyone with perfect vision. The reason, Jesse believes, is that he has a different relationship with the rock than a sighted climber. He is forced to pay more attention to its subtleties.

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Thank you, The Washington Post, for this story. The words (and the images) are all from the story. Even if you are not into climbing and blessed with good vision, please read the full story. Hopefully, it will make us more grateful for all that life has to and to better appreciate its subtleties.