The foundation is the rope-access gear: a static working line, ascenders, a big-wall harness with a seat, because on a slab the problem after an hour is not the photograph, it is the blood flow in your legs. Adjustable lanyards to set my position relative to the pitch without swinging, a couple of spare quickdraws, gloves for the descents. All of it gear I also climb with: on a wall, trust in your equipment does not split by profession.
The photographic part is the smallest
One camera body, two lenses, batteries and cards in a chest pocket that zips shut. I decide the lenses on the ground, reading the pitch: one to stay wide when the whole wall matters, one to close in on the movement when the hand matters. Everything is tethered on independent cords, because a lens cap falling on the belayer is an accident, not an inconvenience.
What I do not carry is the longer list: no tripod, no flash, no second body unless the day justifies it. Every extra object is one more thing to manage in the void, and the hand holding the camera has to stay free to work. In the evening, emptying the pack, the criterion checks itself: if something has come back down unused two outings in a row, on the third it stays home.