Charlie Piper-Chang, 6, smiles on his way up the main wall of the indoor rock climbing gym at Mount Van Hoevenberg on March 18. (News photo — Oliver Reil)

Mount Van Hoevenberg in Lake Placid hosts athletes, governors, senators and Olympic royalty. It’s home to North America’s first bobsled run and a myriad of athletics. After overhaul renovations to the venue in the past several years, including the new Mountain Pass Lodge, visitors can try their hand at indoor rock climbing.

The gym is small, with one vertical wall split up between five ropes and one auto-belay, into which a climber can clip themselves and climb without another person belaying them.

The bouldering wall across the room was one of the better I’ve seen in six years of climbing. It had a generous amount of easy routes, mixed well with some major challenges. Bouldering is generally harder than wall climbing, in a lot of ways and for many reasons. The biggest is that most bouldering is done under some degree of an overhang, so you have less stability from your feet and must rely more heavily on hand strength. Bouldering is also graded differently than wall climbing. In my experience, most gyms use the V-Scale.

According to an article on Climbing.com, the “V” comes from legendary boulderer John Sherman’s nickname, “Verm” or “Vermin.” Sherman created the system in the 1980s at the famous Hueco Tanks State Park in Texas.

After the “V,” a number tells how difficult the climb is. The scale currently ranges from “0” to “17” but is open-ended, meaning that as bouldering grows and changes, harder grades could come into play.

Gym staff member Gavin Simon, left, climbs alongside Clara Piper-Chang, 9, on the main wall of the indoor rock climbing gym at Mount Van Hoevenberg on March 18. (News photo — Oliver Reil)

When I hit the bouldering wall, I started with a couple V0s, eventually graduating to a V1 and a V3. There are no ropes in bouldering; there is very little vertical gain. Rather, the climber simply drops to a crash pad below when they’ve completed a route or fall off.

After just a few routes, my fingers hurt. I took a rest and watched as a pair of young siblings ran up the main wall with youthful ease. Charlie Piper-Chang, 6, and his sister Clara, 9, were there with their father, Kun Chang, killing time for the day. Chang said the climbing wall was a pleasant surprise.

After gulping some water and shaking out my fingers, I went up to staff member Gavin Simon. I explained my waning abilities to him and asked for route suggestions. I started with a 5.9 that felt more like a 5.7, which Simon assured me it would.

In the Yosemite Decimal System of grading, the “5” refers to the class of climb, “5” meaning a vertical wall that requires a rope and gear. The “7” refers to the difficulty of the climb, with “2” being the lowest and “15” the highest.

The wall wasn’t the highest I’d climbed by any means, but the routes were set well, clearly with great care. It felt so good to be in a harness again with chalk on my hands.

Gym staff member Gavin Simon, right, teaches Clara and Charlie Piper-Chang how to use chalk to keep their hands dry while climbing in the indoor rock climbing gym at Mount Van Hoevenberg on March 18. (News photo — Oliver Reil)

After success on the first route, I decided to try a proper 5.9, one with balance challenges and crimps, or tiny handholds designed for fingertips. I did not make it, despite Simon’s encouragement.

I moved to the middle of the wall, with Simon on belay, to try a 5.7. This time, I left the chalk at the bottom of the wall. My fingers were getting really sore now, and my memories of tendinitis were resurfacing. I had to be careful and move calmly, fluidly and patiently. The teachings I received in class as an expeditionary studies student at SUNY Plattsburgh were coming back.

Halfway up, I could feel my tendons start to stiffen as I held on with everything I had. My hands were sweating; I should have brought the chalk. Four or five years ago, this would have been easy for me. Now, years later and completely out of climbing shape, my fingers screamed at me as I continued.

“You got this! Nice!” Simon yelled from below.

In my climbing prime, my ability topped out at 5.10, depending on how accurately the routes were graded — and I could only climb one a day before getting too pumped out to continue. Being indoors changes things a lot, too. Outdoor climbing is much more varied, and many climbs don’t just have holds to grab, but rather cracks into which you wedge your fingers, toes, hands, feet, arms and even legs.

Gym staff member Gavin Simon demonstrates to Charlie Piper-Chang, 6, how to boulder at the indoor rock climbing gym at Mount Van Hoevenberg on March 18. (News photo — Oliver Reil)

Now, out of practice and with weak hands, this 5.7 was killing me. I had warmed up on the traverse wall — where a climber moves side to side across a short wall — and the bouldering wall, but that didn’t matter. The stamina just wasn’t there anymore.

I reached the top after a few near-slips, relieved. Simon lowered me down, and I shook out my sore hands.

“Great job dude,” he said.

I appreciated the support, which I’ve found to be a universal quality of climbers.

Charlie was eagerly awaiting my descent so he could hook in and rocket up the wall. Clara was already tied in with another belayer, John. They both put my climbing to shame.

Gym staff belay climbers as they climb up the main wall of Mount Van Hoevenberg's indoor rock climbing gym on March 18. (News photo — Oliver Reil)

I sat back down on the bouldering crash pad and watched some more. Memories of climbing class came flooding back, particularly the days when heavy rain would wash out the outdoor routes in the Adirondacks and we would go to MetroRock Vermont in Essex Junction. Those were the days.

After sitting with the familiar pain in my hands for a while, I decided to wrap it up. I was on the clock after all. I changed back into my jeans in the bathroom, wiped the sweat from my brow and thanked Simon for his support. I said goodbye to Charlie, Clara and Kun, and I headed for the truck with a big smile on my face.

I might even dust off my old shoes and start climbing again.