Most Days

Hey. Long time. I wrote a post back in March and never published it. I guess I just didn't feel that much had been going on. Or maybe I had enough going on and it was more the mundane events that you all don't really need to know about... or more likely you just know instinctively.

Since my unpublished post Spring and Summer have happened and it has been a busy exciting and fun time. Back in April my good friends Amy and Paul and myself left for Spring Break. We did the drive to Vegas, and had a wonderful snow storm to drive through. Paul and Amy are unseasoned at the long haul drive and decided next year we are flying. Wimps.

It was a climbing trip and like most trips we climb, eat, and sleep. Tired from the drive and not able to check in to the hotel (yeah, we were roughing it) we started out doing some easy sport climbs at Cannibal Crag, and while the climbing is awesome I think most of us were distracted by the lingerie shoot going on behind us. I'd post the pictures but really it was more a distraction. We climbed just a few routes and were glad when the hours rolled towards our check in time.

We went to the Strip, which was my first time, and enjoyed being tourist for a while. And then we caught up on much needed sleep. The next morning was nice and we climbed for a bit until the wind picked up. The day cut a bit short we headed back to the Strip and found more trouble. Of course, the following day would become a forced rest day and our plan for adventure drew us to the Adventure Dome. This is an indoor theme park and we had fun... until the "4D" ride totally bugged me out. I was fine flipping upside down, being swung around in circles, but the video and shaking....brruupt.

And then it was back to our climbing adventure. We spent a day of "everyone leads" at Panty Wall, and a day on Solar Slab, and a final day with just a few climbs back at Cannibal Crag before heading home. No big adventure, but lots of fun none-the-less.

Following the return home, I'm sure I did a few days of skiing, but not enough of it. I wish I'd kept up with skiing one day of each month but regular life does happen. Summer came on quickly and there was lots of whining about the rain. I managed to play soccer twice a week. And dancing once a week.

The dancing has been quite fun but as the summer heat came on I put it on hold... I'll be going back to it in September. I have become a pretty good lead in West Coast Swing, and I do alright with the other dance steps. I think my favorites are the swings, but I'd like to get better at the waltz and foxtrot.

On the climbing topic, I got to tick off a few climbs on my list. One was to climb Deidre in Squamish -- I've been trying to get to it for the last three years. I actually did it twice this year, once swapping leads and once leading the whole thing. I went back and led Master Of My Domain, and I even added a few climbs I had never before led to my list. I also got to zipline, which wasn't as much thrilling as just fun. And I also got to water ski for the first time in probably twenty years. I got up but the waters were rugged so I didn't do any fancy turns. Next year.

I have my sights set on a few more immediate things for now. Keep your fingers crossed that I'm successful... I'd appreciate it if you would anyway.

Two Seconds

November 21, 2009 Mack, Mosetick, and I meet up for a day of backcountry skiing. We carpooled to Crystal Mountain and drove past the parking attendant ignoring his instructions of where to park. At the C parking lot we started the process of gearing up. Like climbing, the steps a group goes through to start a day of play begins with a lot of fussing, chattering, teasing, laughing, and general excitement. I love this part. I can go home now; I'm satisfied. I tell myself, "Just wait, it only gets better."

We start the trek up the path, meeting up with a couple of random guys and their dog. A skin track is before us and we all make our way up the trail until we reach the ridge of Bullion Basin. The snow is untouched. Mack starts a pit and we do some testing. The top five inches of the snow is our concern. We aren't that concerned and clean up the pit, finish off some gummy fish, water ourselves, and put skis back on for the first runs.

"I'll go first and then video you guys from below."

"Ha ha, you just want the first run."

"There are advantages to being the videographer."

I cut across the field to drop into my line, the turns smooth, the snow is deep, the speed right to float me through this powdery goodness. And out of no where I started hooting and cheering. I'm surprised at myself as this occurs. I come to the base of my run and I'm laughing, the wind has caused tears in my eyes. Heaven.

For those two seconds where the world goes quiet, where all my trouble, all my fear, all my worries go quiet -- all that is left is pure joy. I don't experience that very often. Usually, I'm in my routine, having fun and enjoying the moment... seldom do I have that moment of joy that rises up out of me into uncontrolled vocal excitement.

That two seconds... it's why I ski, it's why I climb.

Avalanche Safety Reprise

Oops. I forgot to post this before I left for Denver on December 18th. Must have been busy and forgot... Here it is... better late than never...

I finished my Avalanche Awareness course. Three Mondays at REI, and a field trip to Steven's Pass. The field class was pretty uneventful, which in a way is good. I learned lots of things. One is that finding a beacon buried a few inches under the snow is not the same as locating a beacon three feet or more under the snow. Another is that I need to replace my probe with one of a better quality. I got a BCA Probe that came free with my shovel and it just isn't very good. At one point during a rescue scenario I was asked to help probe for the victim and I failed to secure it tightly causing it to collapse. Having your probe collapse is kind of embarrassing.

Also I found that a number of people don't take a scenario like that seriously. The scenario is that three victims have been buried in an avalanche and you are being asked to help locate and recover the bodies (hopefully alive.) Those that are involved often make jokes, they over act, they don't just simply behave with the seriousness that is required for such a topic. I don't get that. I mean to have fun and all, but if I ever have to dig someone out of an avalanche, I want to know that I can do it -- even if/when I'm totally freaked out. And of course, I want to know if I'm caught in one and need to be dug out that those I'm with take it seriously and know what to do as well.

I didn't take any pictures. It was a beautiful day but I was just more busy playing and learning than I realized. And the guide/instructor did tell us to bring a camera if we wanted. Oh well, I will be sure to take some pictures the next time I'm out on the snow.

I'm leaving for Denver late Friday evening and hoping to arrive late Saturday or early Sunday. And then I'm sure it will be one activity after the next. I'll be sure to put up additional updates.

Happy Holidays everyone!

Avalanche!

Every time Mack and I go skiing in the backcountry we do a serious practice of beacon locating. Mack or I will take a lead on the skin track wrap a beacon in a coat or baggie and bury it in the snow. A simple not to panic "Avalanche" call lets the other know to look up and identify the last location. And then we breakout our beacon, switch it to search mode, and find the other "person."

We do this every single trip. With one exception, and that was because I had left my beacon at home (by accident) and the avalanche concern was "Low." So we made a calculated decision to continue without beacons. The intention of practicing beacon location every time is that we don't want to panic should we ever have to actually locate another person.

I watched a video on youtube a while back which now has been on different news channels, and has been turned into a advertisement for the Avalung. Interestingly enough, the guy caught in the avalanche had his mouth piece just out of reach of his mouth and couldn't use it to breath. He was rescued exceptionally fast (buried with skis on and tips showing) at 4 minutes 30 seconds. One third of people caught in avalanche are believed to be killed by trauma. After 30 minutes you only have a 50% chance of survival. And the average time to dig someone out even with a beacon -- 20 minutes. The odds are against you in the winter backcountry world.

So we practice our safety skills every time. We certainly take calculated risks. We read the snow reports and dig pits to verify the conditions. We watch the weather before us, and we have honest discussions about the dangers.

Tomorrow, I will head out with a group of people that will have an introductory field class on Avalanche safety. Yeah, I know -- I should have taken this class last year. I am surprised at myself for putting it off this long. I won't take the level 1 certification until the new year. So in some ways, I'm still putting it off.

I know in this class we won't be going in very far to the backcountry; the entire trip is just over a mile from what I understand. I'm super excited for it though and having fun doing the prep work. I'm reading the NWAC and watching the weather reports. Packing up extra gear in case someone needs extra layers, and gathering my food so I can make sure I'm not too starved once I arrive. I also packed the camera. I hope I have something fun to share in the next few days.

Stay with Me!

I sit in anticipation of events my week holds. Skiing will come with my preferred backcountry adventures awaiting my mark on the canvas of snow. Tonight a movie.

Today -- I was reviewing some other bloggers and their take on "fear." In particular the fear that comes with climbing, but I'm actually looking at fear from a different prospective. For me, in this case, it isn't limited to climbing.

I have been self employed for less than a year. I've been hanging on, and sticking to my work. However, some days the fear sets in and with that fear -- immobility. My brain doesn't get it, but my body instinctively wants to remain unmoved. My brain is saying... "You can do it!" "Go, Chris, Go!" "You've done harder, this will be a breeze." My body shudders a bit and finds a snuggle with my dog, or desires to crawl back into bed, or puts on the tube to distract from my brains encouragement.

Even now, I sit and write this blog instead of taking on my project. My project is laid out before me. I will write though, entrench my brain on the task of not just understanding this fear, but what path I should use to overcome it.

My project remains unattended.

I sit here now the only problem before me... I can only go forward. So you're wondering, why aren't you working on your project and instead writing a blog? Two reasons a) I haven't done a blog update in a long time(yes I get the irony,) and 2) in my head, I'm standing midway up the first pitch of Ewephoric on the Sheeps Head in Cochise.

I yelled down to my climbing partner Brigette, "I don't think I can do this." She didn't respond. Or maybe she did. I don't recall. I plugged a piece of gear into the wall, this wide smooth handholdless monster. I stood there for a long time. I had a conversation with my self.

selfdoubt: "Downclimb?"
me: "No."
selfdoubt: "You only have one other choice, you get that don't you?"
me: "No, I have two other choices."
selfdoubt: "Two other choices? Really? Besides going down? You're so full of shit."
me: "Yes, two other choices besides going down. I can go up, that would be a good choice. Or I can also just stand here until a rescue party comes."
selfdoubt: "Dumbass."
me: "So how do you think I should go up then?"
selfdoubt: "You're probably right, just stand there until the rescue party comes."
me: "Great. Well, I can at least move up to that ledge there."
selfdoubt: "Then what, you can see there is no way to protect there."
me: "Well, I'll just take the next obvious step."
selfdoubt: "Dumbass."

I moved up the rock. A scene from Gladiator moved through my head and I hear the words of Maximus: "Three weeks from now...Imagine where you will be, and it will be so. Hold the line! Stay with me! If you find yourself alone, riding in the green fields with the sun on your face, do not be troubled. For you are in Elysium, and you're already dead!"

In the movie the soldiers all laugh. I didn't laugh, I was already alone. I had moved up to that next ledge, and recalled that the party before us had another piece in the rock above me before reaching the one bolt on the entire first pitch. I didn't like the way that looked. I stepped out of the runnel crack thing I was in, and just slab face climbed my way to the bolt. A good choice in hindsight, but scary. I reached the bolt, clipped, the climb was pretty much over... one pitch down, only four pitches to go. And no, I won't tell you how far it was from my last gear placement to the bolt.

I know how to conquer my fear. The problem isn't conquering it. The problem is I'm not ready for Elysium. It is easy to step out and let the current carry you. You might get bumped along the way, scrapped up, maybe even broken a bit. Those who don't let go will cheer you and give you hero status or poo-poo you because they didn't have the courage. They will call you mentor, roll model, inspiration, crazy, moron, idiot. How brave of you! How stupid! And yet, all you did was let go in the moment, and let it wash over you. Somehow even when I embrace that fear and accept immobility I eventually let go. Okay, I don't know how to conquer my fear, I just accept it.

I'm encouraged to move; be physical. This morning I woke with my dog to let her water the grass and then filled her tummy with breakfast. Often I choose to crawl back into my warm sheets and sleep another 15 or 30 minutes, an hour. I started washing the dishes. Be mobile. I can do that; that isn't what is holding me back. I can do the physical. This is emotional. This is mental. I have the means, I'm intelligent, I have the plan, I have the resources, I have everything I need. And somehow I am fighting against this immobility, I fight against Elysium.

That's the story... I guess it is time to let go. I'll let you know how it turns out.

My Review of Black Diamond Method Randonee Boots - Men's

Originally submitted at REI

These stiff Method freeride boots from Black Diamond are for the aggressive skier and built to take them over any and all terrain.

Black Diamond Method Randonee Boots - Men's

First boot in 14 years.

By Climbing Chris from Poulsbo, WA on 10/29/2009

 

4out of 5

Gift: No

Pros: Flexible, Stable, Lightweight

Best Uses: Downhill, Deep Powder, Back Country

Describe Yourself: Advanced

This is the first boot I have purchased in 14 years. I got them last year and used them for several days of touring. They were fantastic. I didn't have any physical pain or problems with these boots. I even hiked two miles in them back to the car and while glad to take them off at the end of a day, they were fantastic.

Love, love, love my Methods

(legalese)

Rock!

I don't have very many exciting pictures. This one here -- Lambert Lembert Dome. It has some pretty fun climbs. I lead the three pitch 5.6 Northwest Book in two pitches. Of course, that isn't a big deal at all. I got lapped by free soloers who run up that climb just for the exercise of it. Seriously, I met a guy named Chris while I was finishing the last pitch who was doing just this. I asked what the top was like. His response was to look for the block that will take any piece of gear you have left. I found the block, built my anchor, and brought up my cousin (who is also very capable of free soloing this climb -- he climbed this in his tennies) and by the time we were at the top, Chris was finishing his second lap.

It wasn't a hard climb by any stretch and very fun. I highly recommend it for a warm up to getting your lead head on. There is only one slick spot but the protection is fantastic. I'd even say skip the first bolt. It doesn't really do much for you anyway, though great for that secure feeling you might need.

I actually spent more time bouldering than I did climbing the faces. My first two days were bouldering at the Kitty and Puppy boulders. My two cents -- the Kitty boulders are way better. That isn't to say you shouldn't spend time on the Puppy boulders too. I just like the type of climbing that has clean ground to fall on. I also spent a day climbing at the Knobs. These boulders are awesome. The granite is laced with feldspar cubes that you can pinch and stand on... I even did my first "highball." Okay, it was not really a highball. It was just higher than I like to go. I'm a bit of a chicken when it comes to bouldering. Bad knees, bad ankles... I'm sure I can make up some more excuses. I'm a sissy... I can live with it.

My cousin and I wanted to do a bit of climbing together, but sometimes things don't work out the way you hope. Kevin was out climbing the Hulk when I arrived, and as you might expect was a bit tired when he returned. We did a bit of bouldering at the Knobs and then he got called out on a SAR. I told him that if he didn't return the next day I would assume the call was a big deal and I was going to head out.

The next morning I woke up and started to read, eat break fast and finally I packed up for another day of bouldering when I was invited to do some cragging with some of the other SAR team. We ended up at the East Cottage Dome. Here were mostly 10c and harder climbs. I have discovered that I like to fall up climbs. The 10d climbs I definitely still have to work out sections on. I warmed up on a climb called Knobnoxious (5.10d) and the pump in my arms was especially difficult to work through, but I did make it to the top. That day was followed by a jump into the river and cleaning up of camp.

I made the decision to hang out through dinner with the crew from the SAR and to my luck Kevin showed up. We made plans to climb the Regular Route on the Fairview Dome. We woke casually, and watched as the thunder clouds build. We decided to give our climb a try and secretly hoped that other climbers would be chased off by the thunder and that we wouldn't be chased off.

Kevin was super cool, as expected. We got to the climb and I was offered the lead. I have led 5.9 on traditional gear before, but I had yet to do it clean without bailing off and retrying or sagging the rope. I started up the climb and Kevin's words sat on the tip of my thoughts -- Look for good placements before and after a crux and for confidence double up a placement before a crux.

His advice was perfect as I came to the first crux with bad hands and slick feet. The rock in Tuolumne is a mixture of granite crystals and polished rock. I pushed through and was in full sweat. I was thankful for those thunder clouds building around us.

Then I hear this whirwhirwhir like a humming bird passing past your year. "ROCK!" I heard the call after the rock just went past my ear. Never even saw it. I swore about how late the call was made. My head was in climbing though and I would find out once Kevin reached me that no one called rock from above but rather he had called it once he saw it as passed my head. I dropped a piece to protect me and continued up as the rain started a sprinkle on me. The upper crack was already soggy. I dove my fingers back into the crack and excepted it would be mucky.

When I got to the top Thunder sounded to welcome me to my rest place. I had some nuts and three cams left. Only one piece would fit in the rock, so I made a two point belay with my one cam and the belay station on the tree in the rock. Kevin started up the rock.

Kevin moves fast over a 5.9, again climbing in his tennies. In my hurry to get Kevin up though, I failed to backup my belay. I brought him up on a single point of protection, and it wasn't even connected to me. I felt a bit stupid. I felt really stupid. Rock climbing is dangerous and even with thunder and lightening you have to keep your head and double check everything. Once again I failed to be safe. On the bright side I was super confident that the one point I had for Kevin was super safe and I even repelled off that one point myself (which I will tell you about shortly.) Though here is another thought. When you are learning to use a new tool (I was using an auto-locking belay device I'd never used before) you should practice with it on the ground first. Just my $0.02.

So Kevin got to me, and the thunder and lightening was coming on. I told Kevin that if we are going up then I wanted him to lead since he could move faster than me and the rain was my biggest concern on lead. He agreed and started up the second pitch. A loud crack stopped him, and he put a piece of gear to rest on for a moment. We had that discussion -- do we go up, or down? He was confident that we could go up but was worried about getting really wet and miserable. I made the call to go down -- I had already accomplished the clean 5.9 trad lead! I was stoked! The rest of the climb was easier stuff. Down would be okay by me -- and safer.

We setup the repel and I went first (yep that same single point protection I brough Kevin up on.) I didn't get five meters before the hail and rain started on me. My belay and biner were burning hot when I repelled off the end of the rope (as planned) on a nice slab of rock. Kevin followed and I moved off the rock and put on my hiking shoes. Kev did the clean up -- he really is fast at this stuff and does it with all the safety steps required to keep safe.

We ran down the hill and not 30 minutes later the sun was out on our climb and we were laughing that we knew that would be the end result. We ran over to another dome and did a fun 10a to end the day. Not enough climbing for Kevin or me, but the rock isn't going anywhere... well a few chunks are coming down on occasion for sure, but I'll have time to go back and repeat my climbs and pick up some new ones.

I think I need to find another week down here in the Tahoe/Yosemite area. Too much to do, and my lead head is coming along nicely.