After a quick break from the valley I have decided to start a blog. It will take a bit of back tracking to fill you in on the last few months as they have been jam packed with climbing and stories from Yosemite. This is my first shot at blogging so bear with me as I work it all out...
I had just left an epic 08-09 ski season in Utah that had yielded nearly 800" I had spent the winter pushing my free heel skiing and now It was time to climb. I set out on my first real climbing road trip with my good friend John.
The Plan: to climb at one area until we are too weak and then move on to the next.
The Duration: Till the money runs out.
The Budget: About 2,000 bucks between both of us.
We are on the open road for the first time in six months. The windows are down and the dry desert air whips through a bad hair cut John has given me with a pair of child scissors. We spent the winter packed the three of us, Scott John and I, in a tiny tiny room in the basement of the hotel where we worked. Three dudes in a 10x12 room on the basement level. "Man Camp". We both have an overwhelming sense of freedom running through us as we descend Little Cottonwood Canyon into the endless sprawl of Salt Lake City. We have just left our jobs as ski bums and we are headed to a place that has grabbed my attention as long as I have been climbing. Indian Creek. I am re-assured by the steel whine of Jerry's guitar peeling through the speakers of John's Toyota Pickup. As we drive down into the warmth of the city, I am glued to the inside cover of the current Black Diamond catalog. It is that famous picture of Earl Wiggins leading Super Crack, Aka (luxury Liner). I can picture it now from memory, buried up to his elbow in that perfect splitter while whipping out the next hex placement from his swami belt. I am tentative and full of excitement by the thought of leading this historic climb. I have never climbed cracks like this, Where am I going to find a rack of gold Camalots! After two or three weeks at Indian Creek, Even your grandmother can lead 5.10. Question: who needs a rack of gold Camalots? Your not going to fall out of perfect hands. Just bring two and walk them ;). Its time to move on. Physically drained.. our hands are wounded our muscles weak and our skin is stained red from desert sand. Laughing out loud and blasting country music we speed over countless cattle guards. We feel on top of the world. I had never experienced that sensation one gets when leaving the creek. Utterly drained, sunburnt and dirty, yet feeling like Arnold in pumping iron. "The greatest feeling you can get...The Pump". Feeling strong as Arnold and lead minded we could only head one place. Yosemite Valley California. After a quick stop at red rocks and a less than memorable spin through Vegas. We are headed for the big stone. We would stop off in San Francisco clog my sisters shower with red sand, grab a few beers and head up to Yosemite. Right... Wrong. These two days in San Francisco would be a major turning point in my life and teach me exactly what it means to be taken off your high horse.
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