Looking Good.

We arrived in nearly total darkness, which didn't really matter because we didn't know where we were anyway. I had heard rumors of the Army training crags on Mount Yonah and Richard and I decided to check it out for ourselves. And so, with a thin rack of climbing gear and sub-standard camping supplies, we hopped in his pickup truck and drove to the desolate gravel road outside of Helen, Georgia.

The mountain campsite looked like BarterTown from "Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome". Drunken country kids lit moonshine as they spit it out of their mouths. There was a loud Charlie Daniels Band sing-along. I'm pretty sure at least two fights broke out.

The next morning we got directions and started the walk up to the climbing routes. After a brief period of getting lost, we walked out onto a small rock shelf that served as the base of the face. I looked up the chunky routes and realized that these were far easier than the scant faces of California featured in all the rock climbing books we had been reading. We roped in, shuffled up the routes and were bored in no time.

I complained about my boredom to one of the regulars who informed me of a few more challenging routes just at the end of the face. "Foxy Lady" had a difficulty of about 5.8 and was a tiptoe up some acorn-like protrusions until you reached a narrow crack that walked you up the finish. It was harder than I expected, but it was nice to complete. Feeling a sense of accomplishment, I set my sights on the adjacent climb, "Afternoon Delight," for the next day.

"Afternoon Delight" was an awkward climb pretty much the whole way up. I started by shimmying up a massive plate of disjoined granite to where I could stand on top. "I don't see where I'm supposed to go," I yelled down to Richard, who was belaying my line.

"Go up," he responded.

I have never seen a better belayer than Richard. His knowledge of the technical aspects of the climb combines perfectly with an ability to instill confidence. He also has a cunning ability to know the proper moment to yell, "Quit being such a bitch".

He was right. I was being a bitch. I was bitching about the fact that I could not see where the next move was.

All I could see was the slightest banana shaped indentation about collarbone high. And this situation only called for one move and I didn't want to do it. A mantel is where you pull up and over a hold and then quickly shift your arm to palm down over the hold. Think about getting out of the pool, without the stairs or the ladder.

The cherry on top of this maneuver was that the next hold, a body's length above the banana, was a little dime-sized extrusion. "Put your face into it," Richard yelled. He was right. Unless I could get my body weight directly over the banana, I would slip out and down. I pulled up and stuck my face right against the rock. In the same movement I shifted my arm and hauled my feet up into the banana. Without using any handholds, I stood up. Before I peeled away from the ledge and sailed down, I reached up and dug my fingernails into the tiny little hold. I was stable.

I looked up for the next move. Again, nothing. I thought I might sit a while and ponder but the hot sun made my hands and climbing shoes greasy. I was sliding off my holds.

"Those cracks to your right, start traversing straight right," he said.

I looked and saw what he was talking about. Three rungs of thin cracks made their way like a ladder just off to my right. I tiptoed over and did three pull-mantel-no-handed stand ups to the top. I should have been ready to celebrate. I felt like vomiting.

Had I been there by myself like Stallone in "Cliffhanger", I would have failed. Had I a belayer who didn't give me direction and encouragement, I may have quit at the banana.

Good belaying is about communication, understanding and mutual success. When you are the lead climber, your belayer tells you where the route goes and helps beef up your confidence. If you are the following climber, the lead climber belays you up the same route and tells you where most of the issues are in a closer sense.

Plenty of companies sure could use someone belaying them like Richard. They need a better view of the path ahead rather than just what lies directly in front of them. They need that safety line of someone who is at least tied into their same fate. They need someone to tell them to quit being such a bitch. Yet many companies try to go it alone without a rope and we see their bloodied corpses on the rocks below.

After a few trips up and down the mountain, I have seen what makes a good company belayer. So spit in your hands, pull up your tights and chalk up. Let's go climbing.


First, start with a good rope.

Or maybe a good thread, to be exact. The lifeline that customers often offer and so many companies refuse is the line of communication. Customers want to be involved or, at the very least, acknowledged. With today's technology, it's easier to get in, and stay in, touch with customers.

And there's something else to consider. The relationship between belayer and climber is not one of formal register. Consumers want to have a brand as a friend and, therefore, should be treated like friends. The more corporate hogwash you throw at them the less they'll want to hold the line for you.


Make sure you have a bonfire at the summit.

I'm always surprised how rarely companies engage their customers in any formal discussion about products and brands. The common attitude is that the company is somehow above the customer and, therefore, whatever the company dictates, the customer should do.

This is a lot like thinking the lead climber is somehow in charge just because he or she goes first. In truth, the lead climber and belayer both play essential roles. Having a dismissive attitude as the lead climber may prevent the belayer from telling you about the falcon's nest you're about to stick your hand in.

I suggest all companies use a customer council to ask questions, get insight and charge up your biggest fans. Considering how much money gets spent trying to build a stronger connection with clients, this should be a no-brainer.


Share the beta.

In climbing terms, beta is advance information concerning the climb. Even a beginning climber learns early on the benefits of sharing the beta. For starters, sharing beta with the other climbers you like means they will also share beta with you and you will all know more.

But perhaps the most important part about sharing beta is that each time you convey it, it begins to resonate more with you. Think about it. Every time you recite some directions or retell a story, you get better at it. Sing your company's beta to your coworkers and colleagues and you might actually start remembering it on the climb.


Looking good. Just ignore those bees.

Having the right partners and treating them like partners can keep you from falling in this business. A good belayer can really help you see beyond just your site. A great belayer can give you the needed information and confidence that you're going where the route is intended.

And let's not forget, at times we all need someone to tell us to quit being such a bitch