Sun Kissed and Climber Happy

Yesterday would have been my ten year anniversary. Originally, the plan was to go to Las Vegas, get a hotel near the Red Rocks Canyon and have "comfortable climbing." I was thinking how awesome that was going to be climbing and being able to get clean afterwards. Nice meals, clean clothes. Yuppie climbing at its best.

Those plan were discussed last year when we were in Red Rocks. Unfortunately for me, life changed in such a way that this never happened. Instead, I met up with some people I had never met before. In fact, people I had barely even talked with before. There are some great places to meetup with other like minded people and gather and have good experiences. I met Beylan and Julie on the Seattle Climbing Meetup really by accident. I wanted to get out climbing, and Beylan had plans to get out and do some climbing at Vantage. I, of course, don't like vantage so quickly suggested Index, Squamish, and Leavenworth. The group quickly grew to about six people planning to climb in Leavenworth. The plan, as the group got larger, fell a part. We were suppose to meet with a couple of other guys from the group (Jason and Brian), but given I have to come from the other side of the Puget Sound, it meant that getting to the P&R at 7 AM was not likely to happen for me. I hope to meet them soon though.

Instead, Beylan, and her friend Julie were going to meet me and my friend Jennifer at the Northgate Park and Ride at 8:30 AM. That hour and a half difference was kind of a big deal. Weekend ferries are a pain, and driving around is just getting too hard some times.

So our little side meet up group made the trek to Leavenworth for a day of climbing. Since we were all new to each other except for Beylan and Julie, we decided that a safe place to climb would be Clam Shell Cave. This is a nice little crag where you can setup top ropes and just get plenty of climbing in quickly. Beylan jumped quick in to her lead -- put on that game face and get your head on -- while Jennifer and I setup a top rope on what was either the easiest 5.8 in the world, or simply not 5.8. I ran up a quick 5.6 trad lead that Beylan had just finished, and encouraged Julie to follow my lead to check out how I placed gear. The lead was so easy I actually only placed a few pieces, but Julie eventually did her first gear lead -- Yeah! Julie!

Beylan and Julie spent time doing some other top ropes, while Jennifer and I went and did the 10b GRTC, and 5.9 Eagles Prey. Jennifer was hot to lead, and I followed. The 10b was interesting and we bounced that a couple times as the crux is getting to the first bolt. My long arms makes it possible to do that, but Jennifer's shorter stature proved quite the challenge. She did awesome and we had lots of laughs at the creative methods for advancing up the climb.

The 5.9, Eagles Prey, was an interesting start as well. The first bolt is an awkward reach to clip and a fall before that is going to hurt. And likely make the hike out suck. Jennifer was ready to lead hard, and so we read the beta for the climb -- it called for gear to one inch and four bolts. Wrong! The gear placement was more like gear to three inches. After a sketchy placement, and a one inch placement at the back of the crack -- my fat arms barely could reach it, I got to the top and the sun had set. It was time to head home.

It was good that the darkness didn't really set in until we reached the car. My head lamp was in the back door and the pine needles covered the protruding stones, which made walking out difficult enough in the low light. I have to remember to put that in my pack for next weekend.

So all-in-all, I made the best of celebrating a moment in time that will never be. We do what we can and we have fun. It was nice to climb with three lovely ladies -- they even let me be a know-it-all without too much harassment. Next weekend is a multi-pitch extravaganza. It will be fun to meet up with more of this crew.

Omens and Book Reviews

Do you ever have the feeling the world is screaming at you?

Lately, I have been trying to "listen to the world." It has produced some strange results. Recently, I have been dealing with some jealousy issues. I didn't know where it was coming from, but I had to listen to these feelings. I embraced my feelings and quickly came to realize my intuition is very in tune with the world. While what I discovered wasn't good news, it did free me. Or at least loosened its grip on me. I have been paying attention to these omens, even if I wanted to pretend I hadn't noticed.

I am finding the world to be very ironic these days. The thoughts I have about how relationships should be are still pretty concrete, and the world tells me to "hold on" and "There is more to come." Yet, as I look out at everything, I feel like I can almost get the punch line of a very big joke.

Have you ever read The Art of Racing in the Rain? You should. I don't do book reviews but I have to say of all the self help books I have read lately, this not being a self help book is the only one that has highlighted the path I am on. As I write this, my eyes tear because I fell in love with Enzo. I feel like I knew him once. Enzo is our hero. He's a dog. A good, smart, and thoughtful dog. He is my dog -- Hana. He is Danny's companion faithfully.

I started reading this book when I left on my two week road trip. Enzo was my companion because Hana could not join me on this trip. Enzo taught me some very important things, some I have mentioned here before -- "What you manifest is before you." The lesson that seems to be with me today -- when your tires lose control you can over react and crash, or you can go with the uncontrolled slide until something catches to gives you your place back on the road. Yes, you've lost a few places in the line up, but you're still in the race. bark, bark!

Enzo and I were on the same page in Yosemite. I had written in my journal, "I am surrounded by all these people, and yet I'm alone. This Sucks!" I followed it up with the desire to engage my world. I went out and met as many people as I could muster up the courage to approach. I put signs on the message board "Wanted: Climbing Partner!" and I even offered an open ride to anyone wanting to go north on I-5 (no takers by the way). That evening as I read Enzo's story, he tells me about his desire to go out and meet people. He cannot speak well, but he's a good listener. He noted how people don't listen. We interrupt and inject the original story with our own thoughts so that the original story is never told or simply forgotten. I'm afraid I'm a very bad listener. This is my sadness right now. What if I had been a better listener? What if I didn't try to solve everything and just listened? What if -- it gets you know where. Shut up and listen, the race goes on. bark, bark!

Dogs are very intuitive. They know when something is wrong with you. Lately, Hana snuggles so tightly with me I can hardly move. She pulls back the covers and crawls under the sheets with me. She is trying to fill the void that is present. She does a pretty damn good job of it too. I'm paying close attention to Hana. I think she's got something to teach me, if only she had a tongue that could wax eloquently what I need to know. Enzo had the same problems but our dogs do their best. If you want to know FAITH (belief in the absence of proof), get a dog. Hana believes I will learn what I need to learn, despite me proving her right or my efforts to prove her wrong. Enzo tries to tell us that he desires to be a man in his next life. I hope I can be a dog in my next life. I hope I can learn the meaning of unconditional love and provide it to someone who needs it. With a wagging tail, of course.

I give The Art of Racing in the Rain five stars. I plan to read it again. I'm certain there is more for me to get from this story. I think this world is screaming at us all, and if we stop interrupting it, we might learn something important about ourselves. There are omens that are trying to get our attention. And if you are seeing them, you know they have been true and honest. Too bad they cannot all be good. I apologize for the someone random nature of this post. Read the book and you'll probably connect some of the dots.

Peace, love, and friendship.

The Barefoot Rappel

Rappelling barefoot is an odd sensation. It is very different than climbing barefooted — on rappel your feet are not keeping you in touch with life. You are on your decent and returning back to the world. The high is over, the emotions have calmed and you are probably at your most vulnerable. Your feet can gently wander over the rock touching the different textures, sharp edges, smooth slopers, but really your gear is what you depend on for the descent.

Coming down from "Central Pillar of Frenzy" I slipped off my shoes. I have nago's which turn my feet red. At the top of the climb, as I began my descent, I noticed the color rubbed off my feet and onto the rock. My feet soaked in the temperature of the rock. The morning sun had warmed it but the shade allowed it to cool. I slid my feet over the rock avoiding anything that might cut or hurt. The color rubbed off mostly at the top anchors as I began my rappel. It blended with the rock, but looked somewhat like a tragic accident.

At the second station there was no ledge. A full on hanging rappel. I went first off this station. My feet, without the sticky rubber or ledge to find a perch slipped over the smooth rock. It was difficult to get myself up high enough to ensure my rappel was setup correctly. It was a visual review. Biner through the belay loop. Both ropes correctly through the ATC. Everything locked down. For a backup, I put a quick sling with a locker onto the anchor by the rappel ring. I unhooked everything and made the 140 foot rappel. I had to stop over the edge to remove one line from a tree. The line went to the ground and I followed it down.

My feet landed in stone debris that immediately cut at my feet. I held the ropes as Kevin came down even though he didn't need my support. I wrapped my feet in socks and shoes and began the clean up of gear for our descent back to the car before I headed on my long drive home.

Yosemite is an amazing place. I entered from the East entrance Monday morning. The sky in the meadow was so blue. The air was clean, clear and domes of rock screamed to be climbed. I pulled into a lot and stepped out into the cool morning. I wasn't prepared for the temperature. The signs warning of bears concerned me more though. When I entered there was no ranger to give me the run down, so I walked over to the only other person in the lot. An older man, who looked like he spent most of his days in the park, gave me the list -- no scented items that might attract the bears, no sun screen, shampoo, toothpaste, wet wipes -- of what to remove and put in the bear box. He also gave me the location of the board for finding a partner for the day.

Finding a partner seemed to be elusive, and I decided to head down to the Valley and get a camp site. Camp 4 is an interesting place. You stand in line with your identification, lots of foreigners, and a Ranger who speaks loudly at people who barely understand him. Each person gets the run down -- everything with a scent goes in the bear box. I started to go through my car and found old bbq sauce, some shampoo, more sun screen. It is amazing what you can find in your glove compartment. I didn't mean to bring this all with me either. Oh, and don't forget to take your garbage bag with you.

I picked a site down by the YoSaR (Yosemite Search and Rescue) tents. I knew Kevin and his buddy Gabe were working on the Regular route of Half Dome and would be back at the site in the next day or two. I introduced myself to my camp mates Dom and Bill who where from England, and had finished a trip up El Cap. I wandered down the path to the village and checked things out. On the way back I bouldered and traversed about the rock.

There is an immaturity about this life. Yet at the same time there is a great deal to learn from the world that isn't capitalism, and politics, that isn't selfishness. It leaves you open to the experiences of life, vulnerable (I guess I'll use that word again.) This was my first trip by myself. For being all alone, I was surrounded by people. I made a choice to engage my world and meet the people around me. Heading back into camp I made friends with Libby, a 23 year old red head, who was at the cross roads -- to start a career or to be a dirt bagger. We talked about her adventures to prepare for Big Wall climbing and the decision of starting her career right out of college or to take time to live life. Enni and Pauli showed up a bit later in the evening. The young kids from Finland who were going to aid up Salathe sat and ate dinner with Dom, Bill and myself. My world was filled with new people and stories to share. I wish I could share them all, but they are not my stories to tell.

Tuesday morning a shaggy face popped over my cook stove. Kevin was down for a rest day, and wanted to take me out for some climbing. We ran up "The Nut Cracker" a fantastic 5.8 climb that has a sketchy mantle at the last pitch. The views were amazing for sure. I hope the Japanese guys who took our picture will email me a copy. We finished early and instead of running up more climbs we socialized for a bit. Kevin would be heading back to the dome to prepare for his attempt the next day.

Wednesday I missed a climbing connection. Such is life — it sucked. so I made my way down to the El Cap meadow. There were tons of people staring up at the climbers on the wall. I was quickly identified as one of those crazy types of people and queried about how it all works.

I met some nice young kids -- Tyler, Mike, Joelle, and John. They shared a beer with me and spaced with me. They identified most of the features on the wall, and we enjoyed watching the cluster f*ck on Sycle ledge. Later that afternoon, I wandered back to camp, and they went swimming in the river. I ran into Even, Stephen, Colleen, and Jeff at the slabs and they gave me a top rope on a fun little nameless 5.7 flake. Funny thing, Even and Tyler go to school together. I was meeting friends of friends.

Kevin and Gabe in a surprising success (to them, not me) did the Regular route clean and in short order. Kev looked tired the next morning so I had him teach me aiding and top rope soloing. I did Church Book Tree. A 10b/C1 climb. It was fantastic. I aided, top soloed, and then jugged. The afternoon was done and we were both in need of food.

Thursday evening I met Mash and Molly who moved to the Caribbean and were doing some climbing in the valley. Mash was home, and very enjoyable to meet. I should have gotten his e-mail. Such is life.

Friday, it was time to clear out of camp. I cleaned up and said good by to Tom and Danny, Anni and Pauli, and the rest of the crew. Kev and I met up and ran up the Frenzy. This climb was amazing, and the view of El Cap only improved as you moved up the pitches. On the last two pitches I got my game face on, and I got my very first gear bootie. I plucked a nut placement that came out like it was forgotten not stuck. I think I'm close to figuring out how to climb. Kevin was a great guide and I look forward to climbing with him again -- Maybe this winter after the holidays.

I feel like something profound should be said here. Something that would let you know that everything in the world is going to be alright, or maybe just to let you know I am going to be alright. All I can say is -- "What you manifest is before you" from The Art of Racing in the Rain.

Peace, Love.

I am not Afraid

That's Right! I said it. I'm not afraid. I can stop and ask for directions! Leaving City of Rocks, I headed out on route 77. The map says that it will go straight through to I-85. Hmmm, for some reason the road ahead said "Dead End" and I don't want to take route X north. I want to go east. Yep, I have to stop at the gas station and find out if I go left or right. I'm told I go left, and hang a right at the sign that points to I-85. Glad I didn't go with my instinct -- I'd have gone right for a very boring drive

The climbing was amazing at City of Rocks. I left the office Friday at five o'clock, and stopped in Tacoma for dinner and some shopping and then put the miles on. I slept at a rest stop somewhere just after Pendleton Oregon, and then finished the drive Saturday Morning. The drive into the Reserve was beautiful.

When I arrived at the campground Jim had just arrived. I introduced myself to him and we made lunch and began to chat. We spent a little time looking at his guide book and then made our way over to "Practice Rock" where I lead a 5.6 and Jim followed me up. We met some nice people who allowed us to top rope their climbs (Thanks Guys who's names I have already forgotten).

Jim and I returned to camp and made dinner and waited for George and Karen to arrive. After more socializing I went to bed and slept through the night. We all woke about the same time and proceeded to make breakfast. Now, some of you may know that I'm not the best packer. I apparently left my oatmeal at home. Standard form for me. I did have a banana and some breakfast bars, but the meal was pretty weak. I had an apple sauce to make it last.

The decision to climb Jackson's Thumb was made and the day looked beautiful. In the picture the Thumb is the short rock spire to the left, in the shadow of the larger "fist."

George and Karen were one pair and Jim and myself the other. Four pitches of over bolted rock was before us, and we were ready to go. Jim and I were going to swap leads, and I started with the first. Jim did the second, with me finishing off the last two leads. As Jim approached me at the third belay he asked "are you pissing?" I responded with a no. "It must be raining then." Yep, the thunder clouds to the north were starting their rumblings and we had one more pitch to go. Jim decided I would move faster, so I took the lead and cruised to the top. We made a quick rappel and scrambled down to our lunch and packs. The storm seemed to be just passing us and I was thinking we might get another climb in. Boom! The rain started to fall pretty hard. The crew behind Jim and I decided to descend the climb unfinished, and the crew on the next climb over asked how far it was from the top. Flash Boom! Okay, everybody off the rock!

I often joke, if you see me running you have to wonder what is chasing me. I moved down that mountain at a jog. The wind had picked up and what felt like hail was rain pelts sped up by the wind. We got to the car soaked and drove back to camp. I threw my stuff in my car and began to strip out of my cold wet clothing, put dry clothing on, and crawl into the bag and warm up. Seemed like a good time to read a book.

The storm passed and George wanted to do more climbing. Me too, Jim three. We made our way over to Rain Dancer, which was a two pitch climb -5.7, 5.5. George did the lead, Jim followed, and I enjoyed the leisure of the climb. We got to the top and I setup the rappel. Last up, last down. Dang the wind was cold and I was shivering. My bag was starting to sound very good again.

Karen met us at the end of the trail -- she'd started a fire and had some veggies to share with us all. It was another pleasant evening, and I was worn so I left for bed. I was out. Apparently, the wind had kept the other three awake. I was OUT. The morning was cold, shady and didn't bode well for climbing. I sat in my bag reading. After lunch I did some wandering and photography.

We went out to Box Top rock but the climbs seemed inactive, and the rock crumbly, and it was decided to wander over to Stripe Rock. Here George tried to convince me that the 10b was a 5.7. It just didn't feel right. I got us on the right climb but by the time George and Jim got to the first belay, it was time to head back to camp. Oh well. I got some bouldering earlier...I'd have to wait for tomorrow.

Elephant Rock has about ten perfect lines on it. Give or take. George wanted to do one of the 5.8's but they were already covered with climbers. "There's a four star 5.7 -- that's a classic in this guide." Yep, that's the line, and no one is on it. George and Karen will do the first lead, Jim and I will do the second lead. We only had enough gear so I had an easy lead and no gear placements. The lead was fantastic. George and I lowered Karen and Jim off the rock and then did the two rope rappel. I wrapped up the gear -- it was time to get to Denver.

City of Rocks -- I'll be back to climb your beautiful granite.