Brick Reilly is a good friend of mine, a great production arborist from New Jersey, and developer of the product/technology VIBE, which offers safety options in communication for the hearing and hearing impaired in an industrial work setting. Brick is an inspiration to the whole arboriculture community, and he wrote in to The Arb Life as a response to one of my previous posts on footlocking. Brick wanted to offer a Yin to my Yang, and share his story. Thanks Brick!

By Brick Reilly

Footlocking is a polarizing phenomenon. It’s becoming a former way of ascending trees since the surge of ascenders and SRT techniques have entered the tree industry. However, because of its long lasting stay in the ISA tree climbing competition circuit, it still holds a place in the present. Much like my favorite old growth trees, the roots of the footlocking technique run deep.

If I may, I would like to tell you about how my “addiction” to footlocking started.

I was born profoundly deaf, and for as far back as I can remember, my whole life revolved around opportunities to escape into the wilderness, to run wild, and to release the free spirit I was destined to be. As with all of us, the natural instinct to climb took ahold of me. I never wanted stop climbing. The truth is, I had a hard time coping with deafness in a hearing world. I kept going to keep the candle lit, illuminating my inner world. So I climbed higher, traversing from uprooted trees into massive spindles whose lowest limbs were too high to reach. I would jump from tree top to tree top. The fear was always there, not of my life coming to a tragic end, but that I wouldn’t be able to experience that feeling of belonging. A feeling the tree tops always give me.

By 2010, I hadnt footlocked yet, hell, I climbed on tautline and Blake’s hitches for almost 8 years prior. Only recently had I become a progressive learner. My first attempt at footlocking was poorly advised. We had a split tail that was too short and cinched too tightly on the doubled rope. I would weakly lock my feet and try to step up and slide my hands. The prussic was so tight, I struggled against the friction, and my body was burnt out by the second or third stride. I walked away from it.

Afterwards, my supervisor bought a basic, beginners tree climbing DVD and we learned how to make a proper footlock prussic. This time it all clicked. Improving my technique made all the difference. I could ascend into the trees efficiently now. No need for ladders (or spikes sadly), no advancing my climbing system limb after limb, taking forever to get to top. Throwline, set rope, footlock. Freedom.
I became obsessed with it. I no longer was limited to which tree I could explore and work in. In my deafness, I felt I was Indiana Jones, only with a rope instead of a whip. The best part is the simplicity: a harness, 2 carabiners, a footlock prussic, a rescue 8 and some wild trees with unexplored canopies.

I call myself a fitness maniac for various reasons, and I have very strong beliefs about the capabilities of the human body. Currently, thanks to the guidance from @eaglepeaktree, I am reading a book by Steven Low, “Overcoming Gravity.” It’s focused on gymnastics and bodyweight strength. Footlocking falls right into this category. The ability to footlock really depends on balancing the work load on all the different body parts being used in the action. There is a beautiful harmony in each body part contributing to the collective whole. In a work setting, efficiency of this movement is critical in order to get up into the tree with the least amount of energy wasted. In a competition setting, it’s about facing inner demons and beating personal records.

The real beauty I see and crave from the footlock is the complete and dominating workout it becomes for your body. I have been cross training for years, and NOTHING captures the dynamic movement that the footlock calls for. Its a measure of where you are as a climber physically, and I don’t mean as an arborist in the art of pruning, or as a skilled technician who can remove a tree with various targets in the way. It’s a measure of you as an industrial athlete.

We all know that fitness is the key to longevity. Just in the same way it takes many body parts to complete an efficient footlock stride, being an industrial athlete also requires more than just tearing your body down with physical exercise. It requires proper nutrition, sleep, rest, recovery, management of life’s responsibilities, etc. So, while footlocking is the task from hell (rightly so), it is also a tool to keep you in check.

In Overcoming Gravity, Low makes the point that when you walk into a gymnastics studio and ask all the gymnasts to do a handstand, you will be able tell what level everyone is at by their ability to maintain the position. By no means am I saying that if you can’t footlock then you aren’t a good tree climbing arborist, but what I am saying is that if you diligently put time into practicing and improving your footlock skills, I know that you will become exponentially better as a tree climbing arborist. You will have more energy. Jobs won’t take you as long, and thus, more profit. You will increase your physical longevity in the tree industry, and you will feel stronger.
Essentially, footlocking becomes your personal trainer. The action itself is what holds you accountable. When you balance all the variables necessary to stay the course and show up to the gym to do a workout, you must arrive confident with no excuses. If you slack off and fall into the comforts of leisure, you will dread the gym experience, knowing your performance will be lacking.

More modern SRT techniques for ascending are important for today’s arborist. I rock it myself. But the old footlock will always have a place in my heart. Like an ancient yogi, it will always be my personal trainer to keep me in check. Personally, I need that to curb my sick and twisted addiction.