So yesterday was a bit of a challenge, I had such high hopes of being able to hustle a partner for the Waterfall but after many, many calls and texts I came up dry. Now I'm sure I overlooked someone, but damn it was frustrating. I woke up sluggish and pulled myself out of bed and decided to make the most of my day. While working on my coffee I decided to pull the table saw out and make a small gear box for the back of my truck. I had the design all worked out in my head but unfortunately I'm not as crafty as I might like. After about an hour and a half, maybe two!, I finally finished my box. Lets just say its very utilitarian and not very cosmetically appealing. Especially after I decided to paint it a flat tan. For some reason even with the table saw I cannot cut a straight line! I'm sure that Nate, Dustin, and Greg will all have a good laugh when they see it but all I can say is "what's the pediatric dose for midazolam?" Yeah, right we all have our strengths!
After the impromptu box building session I figured I would head down to the creek with the hound and see if I couldn't rustle up some trout. We loaded up and rallied down to my favorite stretch of water and set about flinging the flies. The weather was great and after a bit of trial and error I landed about 9 or so small browns which was great. I even hooked one on a fly I had tied this winter when I was laid up. Even with success I felt my frustration level rising after snapping off yet another fly so I packed it up and headed back up the hill. As I approached the top of the switch backs I thought to myself, well hell I haven't climbed at the Overlook in quite some time. So I pulled in, grabbed rope, shoes, harness, a .75, #1,#2, #3 and headed to the Trinities. Within minutes I was rapping of the Trinity roof and in no time I was rope soloing the Trinities. I had forgotten how stout those three lines are. For being fairly short and "only" 5.10 I got quite a workout in, climbed each 3 times and called it good. Loaded up the dog again and we headed home. As I sped towards Sunnyside I thought to myself "one more sport and you'll have a trifecta" so as soon as I got home I switched out my still damp shorts (from the fishing, not the climbing) for a dry pair, slipped on my fancy finger shoes and cruised over to Campbell Mesa for a three mile run. It was great and I felt like I had redeemed my day!
Today was not quite as productive, coffee with Nikki, Ian, Anna, and Alana and then an amazing ride literally around the Peaks with Matt Marks on the motorbikes. It was amazing and I really enjoyed being able to really use the ole KLR for all that its made for. It felt like we were riding through some alien landscape, I half expected to see some Mongolian shepherds come cruising around the bend. Not that I would have been able to see them due to the fact that I was basically stuck in Matts dust cloud for the whole ride. Turns out he's a lot more comfortable than I am on the gravel and dirt! Something to work on this summer! After that I headed out to the 'draw' and threw myself at "Floor Pie" to success and then "Anorexic" no success. All in all it was a very good day! Now what to do tomorrow???
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Twice thwarted plans and trying to shift the momentum...
Let me preface this entry by saying that I am venting. It's been a very challenging several days, somewhat draining and immensely frustrating. I'm hoping that by getting it out here will help me leave it behind. I'm sure this won't do justice to how frustrated I've been but I will say that I do feel much better. Read if you like, but again just me mopeing about.
So Bustin Dustin and I had been hoping to climb Tricks of the Trade this weekend and were shut down by raptor closures and re-directed our thoughts to the Rainbow Wall. Well, as this past week started the weather report from Red Rocks was less than sunny, literally, then the call from Dustin... not feeling psyched and may be coming down with something, I said his psyche was off kilter, but the gist of it was no Rainbow Wall. He suggested substituting Zion, Monkeyfinger, I was all about it. Then I started checking the weather page(s). Even I couldn't convince myself that the weather in Zion was going to be any better than Red Rocks (and those that know me know that I believe that 40 percent chance of rain means 60 percent chance of sun!) So the climbing trip was a bust and now I had 4 days off with nothing to do.
I got off of work and decided that rather than try to pick up extra work over the weekend I would head north to Lee's Ferry for some fishing and camping with the dog. Truck was mostly packed so I just swapped the climbing gear for fishing and hit the road. The wind was whipping across the Rez, but if nothing else I thought it would be nice to sleep under the stars. It was a bit of a trek and I may have indulged in a Starbucks crack in a can coffee drink. The drive went by pretty damn quick and as I coasted over Navajo Bridge I thought that perhaps my luck was turning around. The sun was out and even though the wind was still throwing sand across the highway I was hoping that on the water it would be calm. I had hoped on hiking down Cathedral Wash to the riffle there, I'd been down once before with no luck, but I reasoned if it did indeed turn out to be too windy at least it would be a beautiful hike. I turned the bend and low and behold the pull out for the trail was jam packed, at least 8 vehicles! What the hell? I did the quick sticker check and based on the window art they were outdoorsy types. Crap, I figured they were either a NOLS group, a film crew on the Tooth, or who knows the Sierra Club? Either way you slice it I thought that Cathedral would be crawling with folks and not somewhere I wanted to be... The walk-in it was. I continued down the rolling, winding road towards the Ferry, somewhat disheartened, when I saw a dry creekbed that snaked through the desert toward the river... Aha! A new option! I cranked the wheel and within no time Mariah and I were making our way down the ever deepening creekbed.
Mariah was fired up, running ahead, coming back to check on me, barking, and basically acting like a puppy!(I guess the salmon oil is working.) We wandered down the creek bed and the sand slowly gave way to hard stone and the walls got progressively higher and higher.
Finally it started to open up a bit and I could feel that soon we would be at the river and then... well then we got cliffed out. Not just a little cliff but probably 200ft straight down to what likely is an awesome fishing spot, but the only way that I could see to get down was a ratty piece of webbing tied through a mini arch with a rap ring on it... wouldn't have been my first choice for rapping off of or jugging back up, but perhaps they brought rafts and floated down to Cathedral Wash.
Rather than turn around and walk alllll the way back to the truck and be faced with the Cathedral Wash or Walk-in dilemma again I figured that we would just walk overland til we hit Cathedral and boogie on down to the river. Well turns out that theres many a slip twixt cup and the lip and the hike turned out to be a bit farther than I had anticipated. Mariah did spook a small fox and nearly gave me a heart attack when she chased it along the rim. Luckily it was too quick and Mariah is gaining wisdom in her age and let it go. Finally we found a way into Cathedral and were back on our way to the river. Both our footfalls grew more rapid as we could taste the moisture in the air. I was so anxious and excited to be on the water and finally there we were. The water was clear and cold and within minutes I could see the dark outlines of trout stacked up in the current. I had packed my waders and boots but couldn't be bothered to put those on, the weather was too nice for such delays. I quickly put my rod together and soon was casting one of my newly tied flies into the current. Well perhaps I was a little too hasty and lost that one too quickly. (I think the caffeine from that iced coffee drink was too much for my weakend state.) I tied on the standard Lee's Ferry rig, San Juan Worm with a bead head dropper and quickly moved up stream. The trout were stacked up, shadowy shapes lounging in the current, waiting... Two or three casts and one hit, it was a beauty, good color about 13-15 inches, a beautiful Ferry Rainbow. I tried to grab a pic of it with Mariah but those never come out so hot!
I released it and settled into the rhythm of casting, mending, urging the flies to drop, casting again waiting waiting waiting, and then disaster an errant gust of wind dropped my line into one of those damn tamarisks, just upstream from where the trout were waiting. Rather than wade up to where it was stuck I gave it the ole flick of the wrist to no avail and cursing waded up stream and began wrestling with the "tammy" Finally the fly was free but tragedy of tragedy the tip of my rod was broken. Curses were swept away by the river but my mood was definitely foul. I waded back to where my gear was and packed up.
What to do now? I resigned myself to an evening spent under the stars at one of my favorite campsites and began the hike out. I ran into two women also hiking out and struck up conversation. Turns out they were river guides in the area for some sort of river guide convention being held in the area... are people camping at Badger Point? oh yeah probably huge party out there. BALLS!!! We came to a Y in Cathedral Wash and I veered right knowing that it would likely come out somewhat closer to my truck. Well turns out I parked about two mile from where the wash hits the road and Mariah and I trudged for days til we got to the ole rig. Disheartened we set forth for Flagstaff.
At that point it looked like the weekend was going to be a total bust, I was down, down, down. I went to bed and awoke in a similarly foul mood. Coffee and some yardwork saw me through most of the day and I headed downtown to see about replacing my broken rod. Mariah was psyched when we ducked into Babbits Flyfishing, I didn't have the heart to remind her that this was their last day open. She got her customary biscuits, unfortunately the last two fly rods they had had on sale were already gone. Trying not to be to disappointed we headed to Mariahs next favorite shop on the downtown circuit, Mtn. Sports. It was packed and as we navigated the clutch of people I recognized a familiar and long absent face behind the counter. Little Monica? Turns out she's moved back to town with her boyfriend. After a quick catch up period Mariah got her biscuit and I had plans to rope up at the climbing gym with Monica and Abel. We climbed for a couple hours before Jason kicked us out... I was starting to feel better. I headed home for some grub and sleep and before I went to bed firmed up plans with JJ and the crew for some climbing at Upper Solitude.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V3D0qfK8JNA&NR=1
So Bustin Dustin and I had been hoping to climb Tricks of the Trade this weekend and were shut down by raptor closures and re-directed our thoughts to the Rainbow Wall. Well, as this past week started the weather report from Red Rocks was less than sunny, literally, then the call from Dustin... not feeling psyched and may be coming down with something, I said his psyche was off kilter, but the gist of it was no Rainbow Wall. He suggested substituting Zion, Monkeyfinger, I was all about it. Then I started checking the weather page(s). Even I couldn't convince myself that the weather in Zion was going to be any better than Red Rocks (and those that know me know that I believe that 40 percent chance of rain means 60 percent chance of sun!) So the climbing trip was a bust and now I had 4 days off with nothing to do.
I got off of work and decided that rather than try to pick up extra work over the weekend I would head north to Lee's Ferry for some fishing and camping with the dog. Truck was mostly packed so I just swapped the climbing gear for fishing and hit the road. The wind was whipping across the Rez, but if nothing else I thought it would be nice to sleep under the stars. It was a bit of a trek and I may have indulged in a Starbucks crack in a can coffee drink. The drive went by pretty damn quick and as I coasted over Navajo Bridge I thought that perhaps my luck was turning around. The sun was out and even though the wind was still throwing sand across the highway I was hoping that on the water it would be calm. I had hoped on hiking down Cathedral Wash to the riffle there, I'd been down once before with no luck, but I reasoned if it did indeed turn out to be too windy at least it would be a beautiful hike. I turned the bend and low and behold the pull out for the trail was jam packed, at least 8 vehicles! What the hell? I did the quick sticker check and based on the window art they were outdoorsy types. Crap, I figured they were either a NOLS group, a film crew on the Tooth, or who knows the Sierra Club? Either way you slice it I thought that Cathedral would be crawling with folks and not somewhere I wanted to be... The walk-in it was. I continued down the rolling, winding road towards the Ferry, somewhat disheartened, when I saw a dry creekbed that snaked through the desert toward the river... Aha! A new option! I cranked the wheel and within no time Mariah and I were making our way down the ever deepening creekbed.
Rather than turn around and walk alllll the way back to the truck and be faced with the Cathedral Wash or Walk-in dilemma again I figured that we would just walk overland til we hit Cathedral and boogie on down to the river. Well turns out that theres many a slip twixt cup and the lip and the hike turned out to be a bit farther than I had anticipated. Mariah did spook a small fox and nearly gave me a heart attack when she chased it along the rim. Luckily it was too quick and Mariah is gaining wisdom in her age and let it go. Finally we found a way into Cathedral and were back on our way to the river. Both our footfalls grew more rapid as we could taste the moisture in the air. I was so anxious and excited to be on the water and finally there we were. The water was clear and cold and within minutes I could see the dark outlines of trout stacked up in the current. I had packed my waders and boots but couldn't be bothered to put those on, the weather was too nice for such delays. I quickly put my rod together and soon was casting one of my newly tied flies into the current. Well perhaps I was a little too hasty and lost that one too quickly. (I think the caffeine from that iced coffee drink was too much for my weakend state.) I tied on the standard Lee's Ferry rig, San Juan Worm with a bead head dropper and quickly moved up stream. The trout were stacked up, shadowy shapes lounging in the current, waiting... Two or three casts and one hit, it was a beauty, good color about 13-15 inches, a beautiful Ferry Rainbow. I tried to grab a pic of it with Mariah but those never come out so hot!
What to do now? I resigned myself to an evening spent under the stars at one of my favorite campsites and began the hike out. I ran into two women also hiking out and struck up conversation. Turns out they were river guides in the area for some sort of river guide convention being held in the area... are people camping at Badger Point? oh yeah probably huge party out there. BALLS!!! We came to a Y in Cathedral Wash and I veered right knowing that it would likely come out somewhat closer to my truck. Well turns out I parked about two mile from where the wash hits the road and Mariah and I trudged for days til we got to the ole rig. Disheartened we set forth for Flagstaff.
 |
| Trying desperately to overcome my mental block on Holy Roller 12b/c JJ Schlick Photo I awoke a bit more refreshed than the past several days and once again swapped my fishing gear for climbing gear and rallied over to the trailhead. A motley crew awaited, JJ, Wade, D-Kish, Tom, with Dr. Dave and Joel arriving shortly after. Not to forget Barley, the little hellion Rogen, and Rufus. We packed up and started the hike in. The air fresh and the company fantastic. We hiked up hill for the requisite 45 mins and soon were at the base of the Middle Wall of Upper Solitute. Great climbing by all and great company on a beautiful day. We climbed until our tips and tendons could take no more and none of us could believe what a beautiful day it had turned out to be. Maybe things are turning around... and to bring it all full circle in the distance a pair of peregrines swooped and dove and the screeching of their voices echoed through the canyon... |
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V3D0qfK8JNA&NR=1
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Great I'm turning into my dad!
Its always interesting when you realize more and more what you have in common with your parents. In my case it has been amazingly enriching to find that my folks and I have some very similar tastes in music. More so my dad and I, but my mom enjoys many of the artists as well. And it brings me great happiness to be able to introduce them to new artists who they become ardent supporters of. This all goes back years ago when I was a kid growing up with an old eight track in my room and my dad had a record player, cassette player, reel to reel (I'm not even sure how the hell that thing worked), and a cassette deck. He later made the technological leap into the CD age and actually had an Ipod before I did (now my mom has an Ipad what the heck is going on!) Anyhow, it was then that I was introduced to at least two artists that would become favorites, Willie Nelson and Mark Knopfler. I may not have known it at the time but they both are two of my top choices when driving cross country. Its continued over the years with Tommy Emmanuel and Iz to name just a few. Well now the time has come that I get to return the favor!
Now there are some areas where are mutual tastes differ, I'm not sure if the folks really bought into the Nightwatchman, or the Black Keys, and he's had some that I wasn't so into, but overall this mutual sharing of tunes has been great. His biggest lament about the latest offerings that I sent him was this, "Did you know Ted Hawkins died in 1995? There goes another great singer/songwriter dead and gone before I "discover" them! Townes Van Zant, Walter Hyatt,Iz, and now Ted!" I guess I'll have to check the status of artists before I recommend them.
I wonder if this trend is nature or nurture?
Heres the last two links that I sent to my dad and his friend Don with two new artists I've been listening to. Somewhat mournful but damn these guys have some voices! I hope whoever is reading this enjoys them and is inspired to share their favorite artists with those close to them. Also, the videos are ok but its the songs that hit.
 |
| With the Folks atop Kendrick a year or so ago A few years back I made a DVD/slideshow for my family documenting my adventures over the past year and on the "soundtrack" I included one of my newly favorite groups, the Devil Makes Three, it wasn't long before my dad was requesting a CD. Several months after sending out the CD I received a late night phone call from my parents. I learned what it must be like for a parent to receive that call from their kids! The back ground noise was overwhelming but I could hear my dad shouting, "Hey!".... "Dad?" "Yeah! Guess where we are!?" "I don't know, is everything ok?" "We're watching the Devil Makes Three! They're playing in Chico! I think your mom and I are the oldest people here! We're standing on chairs!" Let me tell you that was an awesome 3 minute conversation, I could just picture my folks surrounded by young hipsters rocking out to some sweet Bluegrass/punk fusion (at least thats how I look at it!) Our second experience with the DM3 was a bit different but just as rewarding. My dad was in the hospital recovering from open heart surgery and I was spinning my wheels at the house. Suspiciously there were no home projects left undone, other than digging a two foot trench around some aggressive bamboo that was attempting to claim new territory. I had been hacking at the hardened red clay/dirt of Northern California all morning and was taking a break. I started thinking of what might cheer my dad up when he got out of the hospital and I got onto the DM3 website and sent them and email. I outlined my dads love of their music, his current condition, and asked if I might be able to order him a t-shirt. Less than 24 hrs later I got a message back, short and to the point, What size and where to send it. My dad had been home only a day or two when a shirt showed up on the doorstep courtesy of the Devil Makes Three. Great folks! |
I wonder if this trend is nature or nurture?
Heres the last two links that I sent to my dad and his friend Don with two new artists I've been listening to. Somewhat mournful but damn these guys have some voices! I hope whoever is reading this enjoys them and is inspired to share their favorite artists with those close to them. Also, the videos are ok but its the songs that hit.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Thwarted plans and upping the ante
So, Bustin Dustin and I have had plans to climb Tricks of the Trade in Zion for a little over a month now. Its a long mostly free route in Zion and by all accounts is supposed to be a grand adventure and has been on my tick list for a couple years now. Well we had a date set, were working out our game plan and were super psyched until (cue ominous music) I was checking it out on Mountain Project, you know ogling and daydreaming when I noticed a funny little bit of text. "Subject to seasonal closures" Fast forward to cursing the damn endangered species act! Honestly I appreciate peregrine falcons immensely but... why do they have to be nesting on the chunk of stone we wanted to climb!!!! Well, I called ole Dustin and fed him the bad news and we started casting about for other alternatives... Washer Woman and Primrose Dihedral? Zoroaster with Greg? Baboquvari? Hmmm what to do? Then somehow from mid air we plucked our new goal, The Original Route. Which original route you may ask, well The Original Route on the Rainbow Wall of course. Holy Hell here we go, 14 pitches give or take, with at least in the 12a region and the rest just moderately easier with what looks like a hell of a lot of 5.11 pitches. Oh yeah and a four hour approach, sweet. Now of course we retain the right to changes plans again but... this could get exciting, stay tuned.
On a side note, after 10 days of no exercise and eating nothing but soup and apple sauce I finally got my stitches out of my mouth, ate a meatball sub, hit up Paragon Athletics (aka the Hurt Locker), and hiked most of the way up bowl side and snowboarded down. Awesome! Pretty sure I'll feel it in the morning but it felt good to work hard again... I definitely felt a lot weaker and slower and tipped the scale at 160, around 8 lbs lost over the last 10 days, but damn its good to be back. Now to start training hard and ticking off some hard routes in Sedona and at the Waterfall, hell maybe even venture out to the Forks for some familiar punishment. Pinche and I got 15 pitches in in a day this summer and we weren't even really pushing it who knows what could happen! (Ticked 27 pitches total on my 27 birthday between the Forks and the Pit so the bars pretty high!)
Friday, January 28, 2011
Just another beautiful day in Sedona!
Just spent a fantastic day in ole Sandony getting to give my friend Allen from Durango a brief tour of the Supercrack Tower. Allen and I have never had an opportunity to rope up together, even though he is married to my good friend Anna. We've talked about it for quite some time but somehow, either due to the distance between Flagstaff and Durango, or other logistical restraints it just hasn't happened. Anna and Allen had come to town several days ago but unfortunately Anna came down with a wicked stomach bug and hasn't been able to climb. We had had plans to climb the Mace on Weds. but had to call it off and Allen ended up bouldering at the Anvils instead. A great Sedona offering but not what people come to Sedona for. People come for towers, and choss, and adventure, and amazing scenery, for this I was sure that the Super Crack Tower would not disappoint.
I rolled into the Midgley Bridge parking lot at 0900 on the dot, just as A&A were piling out of their car. It was on track to be a beautiful day! I was so excited to get to share our sandstone playground that I was already pointing out the routes and formations on the horizon, the curiously named Pointed Dome, Queen Vics, Moose's Butte, the Tea Pot. Allen grinned and Anna clutched a roll of tp, the stomach bug was still with her. We did a 180 and I pointed out the Acropolis, the tip of Tisha Spire, and our destination the Super Crack tower. We fiddled around in the parking area getting our gear organized and packs packed while the dogs ran absolutely wild. Once everything was situated we began our approach, really one of the easiest in Sedona, as you are following a well worn trail or streambed for the majority of the hike. Having the opportunity to share one of my favorite areas with good friends allowed me to re-appreciate the beauty of the area, water trickled over the slick rock and occasionally sheets of ice could be seen in the creek bed. It was cool, but not cold and you could feel the promise of warmer temps in the air.
After about 30 mins of steady walking the Supercrack Tower came into view and I was able to point out our first route to Allen. Several months back Dustin and I completed work on a new route we called Inception, a beautiful line that takes one to the top of the lower summit of the Supercrack Tower. I had been able to free the crux pitch shortly after we put the line up but have been anxious to have some one else climb it and hear their opinion. Allen was psyched, he's been spending quite a bit of time in Indian Creek and the splitter finger crack of the crux pitch was calling his name! We made the final bushwhack up the gully and soon found ourselves at the base of the tower. While we racked up for the climb Anna, still feeling out of sorts made her way to a nice sunny vantage point from which she would be able to watch Allen send.
Allen and I made the initial slab traverse to the first anchors and got tied in. Allen looked like he had some butterflies in his stomach, first real route in a new area and going for the onsight second ascent! That would get me going as well! Well Allen grabbed the gear and launched up the initial 5.9 hands/big hands pillar that leads to the base of the money pitch. He made short work of the pitch and seemed to adjust to the soft Sedona sandstone very easily. I joined him shortly at the belay and we sat there for a few minutes trying to decide if we should wait for the sun to hit the pitch or if he should just go for it. It didn't take too long and impatience got the best of him. As Anna lounged in the sun with a literal dog pile about her Allen re-sorted the rack and gave it hell! He cruised the first half of the pitch, right through the awkward changing cracks section, fiddled in the hidden #2 placement and got to the base of the finger crack in no time. After a brief pause and some shuffling of hands and feet Allen moved into the overhanging fingers and hung on tight and plugged and chugged his way through the crux. He definitely was pumped when he finally pulled into the first pod and found himself at the first no hands rest, a funky knee thread/key hole lock. After hanging out for a few and getting the circulation back to his fingers he made the final bouldery face climbing moves up to the belay ledge. ONSIGHT! Pretty impressive. I made my way up to him, turns out the finger crack is still hard for me, and we sat on the ledge in the sun. Him psyched to have sent a great pitch and me psyched to be able to share this route with him. He eyeballed the third, un-freed aid, pitch curiously but we decided to descend and check on Anna and the dogs.
We rapped quickly to the ground and were met by Anna and the hounds, all of whom were excited to see us! We enjoyed a brief rest on the ground and then decided to climb the "Chossy Chimney" into thewindow and Allen would lead pitches 2 and 3 of the Windows Route. I started up the chimney and soon discovered why it was called the "Chossy Chimney". Soon I was covered with the fine dust of Sedona and looking at long run outs over marginal gear on crumbling rock. I arrived at the Window unscathed and belayed Allen up to me. The look on his face when he took in the Windows pitch was priceless. He had seen pictures of the route in the Alpinist but up close the pitch is even more wild! Always gung ho Allen grabbed the gear and after about 2 face moves began stemming like mad. Such a unique climbing experience. Allen again made short work of the pitch and was soon at the second belay calling to Anna through the small window/tunnel at the belay.
We paused for a brief moment and then Allen wrangled up the big cams we had hauled all the way up and set off onto the third pitch. The third pitch of the Windows Route feels, to me, like old school Sedona. Muddy OW for about 30 feet with a wild stopper move that almost sent Allen for the big whip. Good thing he didn't because the piece below him was on its way to falling out. Not only is the pitch OW but it also flares in the back, making a good placement difficult in a few sections. He persevered though and soon was on top of Super Crack Tower. I thrashed my way up and we savored the summit and the beautiful late January temps. We didn't get a summit shot but we did get a hanging belay foot shot at the second belay. Soon we were back in the Window and Allens last task was to lead "Walk the Plank" the technically easy traverse Mark G and I put up, that allows you to get back to your packs. Technically easy but before its lone bolt appeared more than one strong climber backed off. We were back at the packs, and dogs, and Anna within 20 mins. (Poor Anna, still felt rugged after a full day of lounging in the sun). We packed up our bags and were hiking out in no time, already talking about possible trips to Zion and other routes that A&A should do while they were in Sedona.
It was a great day in Sedona spent with an old friend and a new friend and climbing partner. For the first time roping up with Allen it was a fantastic outing. Hopefully next time we'll get more pitches in and have more amazing adventures. Unfortunately Anna was still sick this morning and she and Allen made the decision to head back to Durango. Hopefully they make it back soon because I look forward to getting out with them again soon.
After about 30 mins of steady walking the Supercrack Tower came into view and I was able to point out our first route to Allen. Several months back Dustin and I completed work on a new route we called Inception, a beautiful line that takes one to the top of the lower summit of the Supercrack Tower. I had been able to free the crux pitch shortly after we put the line up but have been anxious to have some one else climb it and hear their opinion. Allen was psyched, he's been spending quite a bit of time in Indian Creek and the splitter finger crack of the crux pitch was calling his name! We made the final bushwhack up the gully and soon found ourselves at the base of the tower. While we racked up for the climb Anna, still feeling out of sorts made her way to a nice sunny vantage point from which she would be able to watch Allen send. 
Allen and I made the initial slab traverse to the first anchors and got tied in. Allen looked like he had some butterflies in his stomach, first real route in a new area and going for the onsight second ascent! That would get me going as well! Well Allen grabbed the gear and launched up the initial 5.9 hands/big hands pillar that leads to the base of the money pitch. He made short work of the pitch and seemed to adjust to the soft Sedona sandstone very easily. I joined him shortly at the belay and we sat there for a few minutes trying to decide if we should wait for the sun to hit the pitch or if he should just go for it. It didn't take too long and impatience got the best of him. As Anna lounged in the sun with a literal dog pile about her Allen re-sorted the rack and gave it hell! He cruised the first half of the pitch, right through the awkward changing cracks section, fiddled in the hidden #2 placement and got to the base of the finger crack in no time. After a brief pause and some shuffling of hands and feet Allen moved into the overhanging fingers and hung on tight and plugged and chugged his way through the crux. He definitely was pumped when he finally pulled into the first pod and found himself at the first no hands rest, a funky knee thread/key hole lock. After hanging out for a few and getting the circulation back to his fingers he made the final bouldery face climbing moves up to the belay ledge. ONSIGHT! Pretty impressive. I made my way up to him, turns out the finger crack is still hard for me, and we sat on the ledge in the sun. Him psyched to have sent a great pitch and me psyched to be able to share this route with him. He eyeballed the third, un-freed aid, pitch curiously but we decided to descend and check on Anna and the dogs.
We rapped quickly to the ground and were met by Anna and the hounds, all of whom were excited to see us! We enjoyed a brief rest on the ground and then decided to climb the "Chossy Chimney" into thewindow and Allen would lead pitches 2 and 3 of the Windows Route. I started up the chimney and soon discovered why it was called the "Chossy Chimney". Soon I was covered with the fine dust of Sedona and looking at long run outs over marginal gear on crumbling rock. I arrived at the Window unscathed and belayed Allen up to me. The look on his face when he took in the Windows pitch was priceless. He had seen pictures of the route in the Alpinist but up close the pitch is even more wild! Always gung ho Allen grabbed the gear and after about 2 face moves began stemming like mad. Such a unique climbing experience. Allen again made short work of the pitch and was soon at the second belay calling to Anna through the small window/tunnel at the belay.
It was a great day in Sedona spent with an old friend and a new friend and climbing partner. For the first time roping up with Allen it was a fantastic outing. Hopefully next time we'll get more pitches in and have more amazing adventures. Unfortunately Anna was still sick this morning and she and Allen made the decision to head back to Durango. Hopefully they make it back soon because I look forward to getting out with them again soon.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
A beautiful day at the Unsung Wall
I found myself lucky enough to enjoy a cup of Joe this morning with an old friend, Will Cobb (probably the nicest guy around). It was good to catch up with Will and get a progress update on his recent shoulder injury... which came right on the heels of his ACL injury. Will is a hell of a guy, who I first met years and years ago when I was working at the front desk of the Wall Aquatic Center. We quickly realized that we had a mutual passion for climbing and well after some memorable (mis)adventures I consider myself lucky to call ole Willie C. a close friend. But I digress. After coffee I made my way home and began running down the list of usual suspects to see who would be up for getting out for a bouldering session. However, the list of usual suspects is dwindling... Greg was out galavanting (theoretically penciled in for next weekend, we'll see if he remembers), Bustin Dustin is off to Cali, Gordo is starting a brewery or some nonsense in N.C (I think) and its a bit of a drive for him, JJ is still recovering from an epic bout of epistaxis, and well I was starting to get frustrated when low and behold Carracuda called. My day was set!
Anyhow back to today. A while back I headed up to a small band of limestone just south of Booze Pig which I've taken to calling the Unsung wall after the Slaid Cleaves album. Several years back Greg Prescott and I had stumbled upon an intimidating roof crack that tops out around 20ft and has an gutwrenching landing. About a year after finding that roof with Greg I went out with my friend Anna and got the FA, calling it Breakfast in Hell, but on a recent trip out it got the best of me and my partner! There are a handful of other lines on the wall and with Cara in tow we headed out for a leisurely day of cleaning problems and hopefully sending some new lines.
While I recovered from my pain induced nausea Cara pried away on the block.
After cleaning most of the dirt and debris off the line we both threw a couple tries at the line, Gospel Moment, to no avail. It'll go but it will be nice to have a couple more pads, its pretty damn tall. We then moved down and Cara stemmed up Call it Sleep, probably her first real boulder problem since the old days. She then tried Broke Down, which was probably a bit higher than she was comfortable with. It probably didn't help that her shoe has a huge hole in the toe. When I said "man you need a new pair of shoes look at that hole" her reply was "What hole?" I put up a new line Race Car Joe and then we cracked into the sixer of PBR we had brought with us. We sat and looked over Lower Lake Mary and laughed about "the old days". As it got a bit later we headed over to Cold and Lonely a problem I had filmed myself climbing (and falling) off of earlier this winter. We did a little "trimming" and with Cara on the camera and after a couple false goes I fired it which while it wasn't the hardest problem ever sure felt good. That is until I grabbed a hidden cactus at the top! My hands have really been taking a beating lately! We sat for a while longer and then figured we better head back down the hill. Before we loaded the dogs in the truck we let them take a run down at the lake and well Mariah was so determined to get the stick I threw she fell through the ice and couldn't get out. Much to Cara's great enjoyment this resulted in me stripped down to my boxers breaking a path through the ice out to my hound and dragging her back to shore. Let me tell you even if its a nice day out beneath 3 inches of ice that water is cold. That was the second time of the day I thought I was going to vomit! Sorry no pictures! So that was it the day, probably not the most exciting to read about but it sure was fun to experience.
Carracuda aka Cara Lawrence is most likely my oldest friend in Flagstaff, we met my first week at NAU back in 96 and have been good friends ever since. I consider it my good luck that she blew back into town last winter and has tamed her gypsy ways for the time being. Not only is she a good friend but she is also the first person that I ever laced up the ole rock shoes with and was there when I did my first boulder problem, EVER! I had just come back from Ireland and had some left over traveling money. I went to the ole Peace Surplus looking for a pair of hiking boots and walked out with shiny pair of too small Boreal Stingers. I had never done any rock climbing before but something about those black and yellow lace ups just called my name. Well Cara was the only person in town I knew that also had a pair of climbing shoes and soon, armed with a tattered copy of "A Cheap Way to Die", a ziplock bag of chalk, and an old hand towel to clean the dirt of our feet we made our way out to Buffalo Park.
I look back at those days with great fondness, we'd tromp out there and marvel over the "tiny" hold that "they" were using. "They" were a mysterious clan of Uber strong climbers who we never actually saw but apparently could crimp on the tiniest of holds and were capable of inhuman feats of strength. Whenever we would try a problem and get spit off of it we would mutter that the "they" could do it. Over the weeks that we bouldering at BP we slowly got stronger and braver and crossed paths with more "official" climbers. I did my first boulder problem and was hooked, my ego took a swift kick in the nuts after Cara fired the Centerpiece sans crashpad... ignorance is bliss.... Soon after we started climbing together I blew my knee out playing soccer and was out of comission for quite some time, but my appetite had been whetted and the course of my future drastically altered. Cara however drifted in and out of climbing and as of recent has been using her harness to get pulled by her sled dog...
After re finding the wall I gave her the brief tour and immediately noticed a large, dorm fridge size, block with fracture lines all around it, right below what looks to be a good line. Well, luckily I had come prepared and we set about prying at the damn thing with the WonderBar. Turns out that a WonderBar is just as good as a hammer when it comes to smashing a finger tip as I quickly found out when the bar slipped and destroyed the tip of my finger. Now my middle finger and thumb match with nasty bruises.
Good thing we did because after only a little work the whole think came peeling off. Leaving behind a whole mess of lizards! I had totally forgotten the last time I was up at this wall I had disturbed a pile of lizards behind a different loose flake. We sprang into action, or at least I did (turns out of all things Cara is afraid of lizards). I scooped up most of them, about 50, and deposited them into the bag Cara was holding. We then transplanted them to what we thought might be another suitable crack, away from the main cliff. Once the lizards were situated we returned to the base of the wall and Cara got to work cleaning the area where the block had been and I built a mediocre landing pad with the fallen rocks. In the process of cleaning Cara discovered a huge nasty centipede(?) which she transplanted to the same crack as the lizards. Those things freak me out!
After cleaning most of the dirt and debris off the line we both threw a couple tries at the line, Gospel Moment, to no avail. It'll go but it will be nice to have a couple more pads, its pretty damn tall. We then moved down and Cara stemmed up Call it Sleep, probably her first real boulder problem since the old days. She then tried Broke Down, which was probably a bit higher than she was comfortable with. It probably didn't help that her shoe has a huge hole in the toe. When I said "man you need a new pair of shoes look at that hole" her reply was "What hole?" I put up a new line Race Car Joe and then we cracked into the sixer of PBR we had brought with us. We sat and looked over Lower Lake Mary and laughed about "the old days". As it got a bit later we headed over to Cold and Lonely a problem I had filmed myself climbing (and falling) off of earlier this winter. We did a little "trimming" and with Cara on the camera and after a couple false goes I fired it which while it wasn't the hardest problem ever sure felt good. That is until I grabbed a hidden cactus at the top! My hands have really been taking a beating lately! We sat for a while longer and then figured we better head back down the hill. Before we loaded the dogs in the truck we let them take a run down at the lake and well Mariah was so determined to get the stick I threw she fell through the ice and couldn't get out. Much to Cara's great enjoyment this resulted in me stripped down to my boxers breaking a path through the ice out to my hound and dragging her back to shore. Let me tell you even if its a nice day out beneath 3 inches of ice that water is cold. That was the second time of the day I thought I was going to vomit! Sorry no pictures! So that was it the day, probably not the most exciting to read about but it sure was fun to experience. Friday, January 14, 2011
How Teddy Roosevelt Dropped the ball
So, I have been lucky enough to have spent the past two days galavanting in Sedona. The weather has been superb, not cold, but not too hot. No wind, just beautiful mild days. One day spent climbing with Mark G., always an adventure and always a way to embark on my Total Mental Devestation, and the second day was spent running with the dog. Amazing, but on both days I found myself privately berating Teddy Roosevelt! Now some of you may be wondering Teddy who? and others likely are thinking well Dean has definitely been reading too much Ron Paul, but let me explain myself.
As you may remember TR was our 26th president, he took office after McKinley was assassinated and was the youngest president at age 42. He was an advocate of progressivism, fostered the square deal, walked softly and carried a big stick, he won the Nobel Prize, rode with the Rough Riders, started the Bull Moose Party, was shot in the chest and still gave a speech, was known to carry a revolver, contracted and later died from malaria... but none of these are what I found myself thinking of as I wound my way through the red rocks. No, my thoughts drifted to his never ending advocacy for the environment and the wild spaces of America. TR placed 230 million acres under federal protection, set aside more land for national parks and preserves than all of his predecesors combined. He was a close friend of Gifford Pinchot and John Muir, and the list goes on and on. He declared the Grand Canyon a national monument, one of the initial steps of it being declared a National park... but he missed Sedona! This is where my disappointment with ole Teddy arises. He traveled to the Grand Canyon and gave a great speech in 1903 right around the time that Sedona was beginning to be developed (Sedona recieved its first Postal Station in 1902, thanks to the Schnebly family). How, oh how did TR one of our greatest environmental presidents miss the opportunity to save Sedona, turning it into a National Park?
Mark and I had a great discussion/daydream about what it might look like if Sedona was a National Park, and I've been daydreaming a bit on my own. Picture this. You are driving south from Flagstaff on 89 and as you arrive at the switchbacks you are hailed by a Parkie complete with the flat hat. They hand you the requisite park service map as you flash your golden eagle pass (yes you bought one because you're a local and its the right thing to do). You wind your way down the switchbacks and are overwhelmed with the views of Oak Creek canyon. The boundaries of the park basically run from the switchbacks, to the top of Schnebly Hill, to where the Village of Oak Creek now is, to oh right about Paige Springs fish hatchery, out and around the peripheries of Secret, Boynton and Long canyons, around Dry Creek and Sycamore, who knows how far up West Fork, right up to the rim again. Where the "downtown" Sedona area now is lies the Sedona equivelent of Curry Village, lodging, shopping, permit offices etc... and then poof theres not much at all. Feeder roads take one to multiple trailheads, perhaps the pink jeeps are still allowed, but operate more in a shuttle capacity. There are shuttles that will take you to all the trailheads, or if you get a permit you can drive your personal vehicle (much like Zion). Ed Abbeys vision of loaner bicycles for park visitor transportation is realized. And air traffic is greatly restricted, much like Grand Canyon. And best of all no multi million homes sully your view as you climb, bike, run, ride your horse, hike, camp, swim, or perhaps even paraglide(since the rim is not in the park you can launch from above and land in the park- a loophole I just invented). Ahhhh can you see it, can you feel it? I can and as I continue to hike and climb and bike and run this dream will be in the corner of my mind...
As you may remember TR was our 26th president, he took office after McKinley was assassinated and was the youngest president at age 42. He was an advocate of progressivism, fostered the square deal, walked softly and carried a big stick, he won the Nobel Prize, rode with the Rough Riders, started the Bull Moose Party, was shot in the chest and still gave a speech, was known to carry a revolver, contracted and later died from malaria... but none of these are what I found myself thinking of as I wound my way through the red rocks. No, my thoughts drifted to his never ending advocacy for the environment and the wild spaces of America. TR placed 230 million acres under federal protection, set aside more land for national parks and preserves than all of his predecesors combined. He was a close friend of Gifford Pinchot and John Muir, and the list goes on and on. He declared the Grand Canyon a national monument, one of the initial steps of it being declared a National park... but he missed Sedona! This is where my disappointment with ole Teddy arises. He traveled to the Grand Canyon and gave a great speech in 1903 right around the time that Sedona was beginning to be developed (Sedona recieved its first Postal Station in 1902, thanks to the Schnebly family). How, oh how did TR one of our greatest environmental presidents miss the opportunity to save Sedona, turning it into a National Park?
Mark and I had a great discussion/daydream about what it might look like if Sedona was a National Park, and I've been daydreaming a bit on my own. Picture this. You are driving south from Flagstaff on 89 and as you arrive at the switchbacks you are hailed by a Parkie complete with the flat hat. They hand you the requisite park service map as you flash your golden eagle pass (yes you bought one because you're a local and its the right thing to do). You wind your way down the switchbacks and are overwhelmed with the views of Oak Creek canyon. The boundaries of the park basically run from the switchbacks, to the top of Schnebly Hill, to where the Village of Oak Creek now is, to oh right about Paige Springs fish hatchery, out and around the peripheries of Secret, Boynton and Long canyons, around Dry Creek and Sycamore, who knows how far up West Fork, right up to the rim again. Where the "downtown" Sedona area now is lies the Sedona equivelent of Curry Village, lodging, shopping, permit offices etc... and then poof theres not much at all. Feeder roads take one to multiple trailheads, perhaps the pink jeeps are still allowed, but operate more in a shuttle capacity. There are shuttles that will take you to all the trailheads, or if you get a permit you can drive your personal vehicle (much like Zion). Ed Abbeys vision of loaner bicycles for park visitor transportation is realized. And air traffic is greatly restricted, much like Grand Canyon. And best of all no multi million homes sully your view as you climb, bike, run, ride your horse, hike, camp, swim, or perhaps even paraglide(since the rim is not in the park you can launch from above and land in the park- a loophole I just invented). Ahhhh can you see it, can you feel it? I can and as I continue to hike and climb and bike and run this dream will be in the corner of my mind...
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