Boise student’s classes are held on Greek beaches, in vans and on rock climbing crags

The fog of my breath seeped from my mouth like cotton balls — floating in the Ford van’s musty air, sticking to the passenger side window in a thin coat of ice. I sat shotgun, wrapped tightly in my down sleeping bag and layers of long underwear.

My small fingers, pink as bubble gum, struggled to type on my small laptop as the cold had long since reached my bones. From the tips of my bubble gum fingers up to the crease in my arm, I ached from a long day of climbing on steep faces of limestone the day before. My eyes struggled to stay open, my eyelids seeming heavier than the van I was sitting in.

What have I gotten myself into?

Was this a mistake?

Am I ready for this?

Those questions raced through my 14-year-old mind as I silently sat through my second period class: History of The Americas.

Wait. Second period? History of The Americas? But weren’t you in a van? In a sleeping bag? Were you in an off-brand castoff of “Into the Wild” or something?

Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes and ... kind of?

To say my school is at the forefront of unconventional learning would be an understatement.

I was midway through eighth grade at Riverstone International School here in Boise when I found out about The Climbing Academy. Heavily invested in climbing at this point, the school immediately piqued my interest. The concept of combining climbing with travel all while earning a high school diploma sounded far fetched. However, after a spring break chock-full of applications and essays and emails and phone calls, the school accepted me for its inaugural year in 2016.

The school is run by a program called World Class Academy based out of White Salmon, Washington. World Class started off with a kayak school with the same model as ours and has been doing that for over 20 years. They did the same with a school for kiteboarding, and finally, in 2016, they opened up a school for climbing. In the first year, the school had 10 kids from freshman to senior year as well as five staff. Now four years later, the school has 19 students and six staff. World Class has an admin team in White Salmon comprising roles you might see in other schools like principal, vice principal, counselor, academic adviser, etc.

These people will typically travel to our locations for a few days at a time to check in on things throughout the year. The school is made up of kids from all around the world, mostly students from the U.S., but the school has also had students from Canada, Mexico, Germany, France and Belgium. World Class’ mission is to act as an outlet for elite youth outdoor athletes to continue to improve their skills while getting an education in a college preparatory environment while seeing the world and experiencing different cultures.

A large part of my old school, Riverstone International, was experiencing the outdoors. Here in Idaho we have some of the best outdoor opportunities in the whole world. So from the get go, the outdoors has been a massive part of my school experience. I spent days in elementary school rafting the Payette and days in middle school backpacking in the Sawtooths on “school days.” However, these small tastes of outdoor adventure only heightened my need to get outside. So when the opportunity to get outside and climb some of the best rock in the world for six hours at a time every other day presented itself to me, I jumped at it.

My classes can be found on the beach of a Greek island, in apartments across the world, on the go in cities like Barcelona or Athens and yes, even in vans. The reason I gave up going to a competitive private school for a largely unproven school? That’s easy: experience.

I spent classes upon classes looking at Picasso’s paintings in art class, and on a recent Sunday, for the second time in three years, I went to his museum in Barcelona with my school. I learned about pollution in China in biology classes in middle school and midway through my school year, I experienced it for two months on six-mile bike rides to the crag with my school. While my peers learned of Catalonia’s vote to separate from the country of Spain, our apartment was literally two doors down from a polling station. There is value to learning about cultures in a classroom. However, the ability to immerse yourself in that culture and learn about it first hand from the people months at a time while having not even graduated high school is invaluable.

The Climbing Academy is a college preparatory academy. Life is more difficult when you don’t live with your parents. Messes start not cleaning themselves up like they used to, your dirty clothes stop appearing washed and folded on your bed, you don’t have someone to prod you to get your studying done when you’re hanging out with your friends.

All of these luxuries provided by Mom and Dad stopped for me four years earlier than most. I learned to cook for myself, to prioritize my school work, to keep my space clean, to tackle personal hygiene all while going through the inherent struggles of high school and climbing at an elite level.

It is my belief that through overcoming these champagne problems, I will be more than ready for the college experience and ready to tackle whatever challenges it throws at me whether it be in laundry or dirty kitchen form.

The school year is divided into four quarters, two seven-weeks quarters, and two six week quarters. At the end of each quarter and a two week break, the location changes. Sometimes we move states, other times we move continents.

Over the past three years, I have been fortunate enough to travel to the corners of the globe to climb some of the best rock in the world — from stalactite-draped caves on Greek islands to towering rock faces a couple dozen yards off of busy highways in China. I’ve even spent climbing days on steep conglomerate rock just down Interstate 84 in Utah. The past three years have been filled with countless days on rock.

“So you just do school ... whenever?”

“Is it all online?”

“Oh, so you pretty much dropped out to … climb?”

These questions are plenty common.

The typical school week is divided into three days spent of rock climbing and four in the ‘classroom’ wherever that may be that given day.

On a typical school day, wake up is around 7:30 a.m. where the entire school meets for breakfast in the Airbnb, hostel or campground. Breakfast is prepared by a rotation of cook crews, each comprising one staff and three students. Breakfast is followed by an hour-long study hall and then the first two periods of class. The staff members of the school travel with us at all times and act as teachers and coaches.

We take normal classes all accredited through the state of Washington. Your sciences, maths, Englishes, social studies — all of it. The school offers AP and honors courses taught by teachers holding degrees in the subject.

Then there is a break for lunch (also done by cook crew) and then right back into classes for periods three and four. Then, after classes, we jump into an hour-and-a-half-long workout, which is usually focused on injury mitigation. Considering how much we climb, it’s important to build up muscles that don’t get used as much to help prevent injury. These workouts are really important to stay healthy throughout the long school year and also to becoming a more well-rounded athlete.

Workout usually ends at around 6:30 or 7 p.m. when cook crew breaks off to make dinner while the rest of the people either have a bit of downtime or get a jump start on homework before dinner. About a half-hour later is dinner where we meet to discuss the day and discuss any important events for the next day or the upcoming week. This ends at around 8:30 p.m. where students cut loose for free time or studying until lights out at 11 p.m. At this point, we all are pretty exhausted, but after a good night’s sleep, we’re ready to go the next day for a long climbing session.

Climbing days wake up is around 7:30 a.m. as well, followed by breakfast completed with the same cook crew system and then another hour-long study hall before packing lunches to eat at the crag (where the climbing is). Depending on the location, we either hike to the crag or we drive, and then from there we break off into pairs and begin the climbing day.

It’s usually about 11 a.m. by the time we get to the crag and we climb until the sun sets or around 7 p.m., whichever comes first. Each student has to get a minimum of five pitches (times to the top of the wall) in during a day. At the end of the day, we go back to wherever we are staying to have dinner, do homework and unwind for the night, then get ready to repeat this cycle again the next day, and then again and again and again for the next seven weeks.

Obviously there is an intense rigor involved with my school. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

There is something undeniably beautiful about sitting in your tent at the end of a long day of school at The Climbing Academy.

You lay your hands wide open — face up — because it hurts to even touch your own hands.

You see the breath seep out of your nostrils, yet your feet feel warm as ever tucked deep inside a pair of wool socks in your sleeping bag.

The sound of a sleepy suburban street is replaced by the sound of wind whipping around your tent.

You close your eyes, but instead of sleeping, you think about the climbing route you’ve been working on for the past few weeks. You run through each individual hand and foot placement. One breath here, one breath there, shake out your hands here, rest there. You invest yourself in the route even though it is miles away, you convince yourself you’re there, you convince yourself that tomorrow is the day! Even though it most likely isn’t, you psych yourself up to throw yourself at it again tomorrow, you tell yourself you just need to try harder, grip harder, breathe more, think more, worry less. You tell yourself you just need to go rock climbing.

And then at 6:45 a.m. you get woken up to your classmate shaking your tent because you’re on cook crew and forgot to set your alarm and thus forgot to wake up. In a huffing puffing heap of sweat and fog, you scramble to throw on your down jacket and gloves and run to the outdoor kitchen and start cooking.

Because sometimes, that’s all you have to do at The Climbing Academy: start cooking.