The Gneiss Abyss

My passion for climbing elevated gradually.  There is no focal point for the shift.  Just an increasing trend from childhood John Long books to quick draw stocking stuffers hanging adjacent to the smoldering chimney of my frozen flatland childhood home.

In college I found someone with a car and enough trust in me to test out the How to Rock Climb techniques.  

My parents moved.  So did I—-Estes Park, Colorado.  I was around real rock.  Real climbers.  Legends!  Lumpy Ridge, the Diamond, Boulder Canyon, Tommy Caldwell, Kelly Cordes, Josh Wharton, Tom Hornbein, Lynn Hill and Douglas Snively.

An enumerable amount of rad people.  They had climbed all over the world.  They had put up first ascents.  They tried HARD! 

Crystal---dropping in!

They inspired me.  

They inspire me even now.  

Crystal Davis-Robbins is one of these people.  I read about her Patagonian adventures in the American Alpine Journal.  I caught wind from friends who climbed with her in Durango.  My Canadian friends adore her.  Crystal was crushing it, Crystal IS crushing it!  

We attempted to meet up in Bariloche this spring while I was in Patagonia.  

Fail.  

While bivying up near the Diamond this July we finally met.  I grunted up Ariana.  She chuckled up D7.  As I rappelled, we exchanged desire to seriously connect and climb.  

“Black Canyon September 3-5?” my text message inquired.

“I think I can take the time off” she replied quickly.

Done.

Wednesday at noon my Subaru wheeled in—-a little late.  Whipping through the campgrounds, my eyes peeled for the green Ranger.  

Not there.

Out climbing? I would be. 

I drove the rim, spot the truck.  Peer over.  

Huh.  

Having never been to the South Rim I thought I would explore the Astro Slog rappels.  

As I was driving away, a truck passed.  Crystal was in the back waving.  She had hitchhiked (after running for awhile barefoot) from the campground I had just blazed through.  The nice folks drove her around the rim drive to find me.  

Hilarious. 

Crystal spied a route we could warm up on, so we dove right in.  Climbing a dirty ass splitter.  We thought it might be new, but the fat ledge at the end of my pitch had a cairn.  Super dirty.  Super splitter.  We trundled many rocks.  Crystal led us to the top via another perfect corner ending with a typical Black Canyon thorn wrestle.

Dinner.  Our plans were open.  Astrodog?  Crystal had done it.  

New routes established by friend Jonathan Schaffer?  Por que no?  

He easily convinced us over the fire Wednesday evening. 

Cheezin’ together!!  Jonathan would be climbing nearby.  Juan (Crystal’s husband) and our mutual friend Cole would also be climbing another route nearby.  

Thursday 8:30 am meet-up.  We descended.  Then descended some more. 

Not sooooooper early for a river to rim kinda-day.  Didn’t quite know we were dropping down so low.  

Oh well.

There is no cheezin’ in the Black Canyon.  There is only crawling your way out.   

Crystal and I had a topo for the first tower.  Good climbing, 5.11, with the typical Black Canyon run-outs.   

I had a topo for the second tower on my camera and we had the beta for the descent from the first tower in our heads.  

Cole and Juan were not too far ahead.  We trailed them on the last few pitches of Tower one and upon summiting spotted their position on the second tower. 

Making a mental note of where to aim.  

We descended tower one no problem.  A chimney down climb, a short rappel and a quick gully jaunt to the base of the next tower.  We bush-wacked around.  Looking back, we think we were deceived due to the boys positioning.  A 5.8 hand crack did not present itself….or at least I didn’t think so.  

Juan morning glow.  Testing my new Hyperlight Summit Pack!

Crystal was patient.  

I ascended a sort of hand crack, then climbed right into a broken and blocky dihedral.  

I belayed at the start of a bushy mess.  Crystal played through the jumble and started up the splitter we had seen the boys at the top of.  

Topo says, “splitter hands.”  

She belayed mid-pitch.  As the crack jogged right it turned “wide,” Crystal observed.  

I had the number 4.  

Earlier in the day I humped the shit out of an exfoliating rounded corner splitter tipping out a number three.  Ops, we gotta remember to pass along the 4!!

I climbed up, geared up and went up. 

The sun.  It flirted the skyline.  

I went up a number 5 sized crack 20-25 feet with our one tipped out number 4.  A stance provided itself on the left.  I placed a blue alien and a .4 to bring Crystal up.  One pitch, now becoming 3!

The wide crack continued up 20 more feet and then jogged left finally diminishing in size.  

Crystal crushed it.  That is what she does. 

The sun had set.  That is what it does.  

I led another pitch with a spicy face traverse.  I brought Crystal up and we simul-climbed the last little bit of Tower 2.  

My camera display smashed in the off-width.  Didn’t matter really.  We didn’t have a description for a descent of Tower 2.  We had our vague recall from the evening before mixed with the ten other routes we were deliberating between. 

A rappel.  A chockstone bridge.  A tower.  A third tower.  

Crystal following up the first tower.

Fuck?  Really, I vaguely remember a discussion of having to climb 3 towers.  Well……

So I climbed up an adjacent tower.  It was rad.  The moon glimmered.  

No rappel anchors.  

I reversed the 100 feet of climbing.  

Crystal’s turn to scout.  She descended a bushy chimney.  A ledge appeared but below her a vast gully continued to drop and wrap back around to our original descent from the morning.  Who knows how steep or how much gear would be left.  

The third tower was the summit, we could see the top.  The look-out.  The tourist spit-off point, with carved logs and trashcans.  So close.  SO CLOSE!  Just gaining access it to it seemed impossible in the dark.  

Juan, Crystal, Cole, myself---Schaffers leg :)

I joked with Crystal that I had been hoping to spoon, I get benighted once a year—-it was time. 

We were snuggled in for 10 minutes when headlamps and a ‘Caw Caw’ came echoing from the rim.  

With a little bit of moonlight left, Cole and Juan hollered vague directions of descent, traversing, ascending, rappelling and ascending one last time.  

We botched a little bit more of the their directions but perfected the art of laughing and climbing via a fading headlamp and no more moonlight.   

First pitches.  First tower.

Somewhere along the way I put Crystal on belay and heard, “Shit….I lost my shoes!”

Your rock shoes or your approach shoes?  

Approach shoes!

Thank GOD, I secretly thought.  We were ‘two easy pitches’ from the top and all I wanted to do was share the burden.  I didn't want to HAVE to lead.  What a selfish sissy!

I climbed the wide chimney the boys — now long gone to bed—- had landmarked for us via headlamp.  Pulled up to a bushy block with a starry sky filling 90 percent of my vision.  

RIM!!!!!  We had crawled out.  Tempted to holler, I abstained.  Just in case.  

Crystal arrived.  

We untied.  We scrambled the 50 feet more over boulders and thorns.  

A dirt path meandered to pavement.  To things.  To sure comforts.  

It was 5:00 am when we reached the car and slammed a beer that was left on the windshield.  

Caution: emotional share

The below, I wrote somewhere along the long journey home from Greenland this summer.  I have just discovered it, re-read it and decided, although emotional, it is something I desire to share.  To remind myself of love, loving, and that in the big picture some things just don't matter.  

Tell someone you love them everyday--love everyday!


"The futility and emptiness of my existence were symbolized by the simple act of jumping
up from the chair.  Nothing in the everyday habits of a man is ordinarily freighted with
more purposefulness than the business of quitting a chair.  The swift leverage may impel
him on any one of a thousand different errands and opportunities.  But with me it led only
to blank walls."  Alone p. 127

I feel as though I could write and write and words could not fill enough pages to express
to you my true thoughts and emotions.

I haven't slept…really since July 8th.  I didn't know then Andrew had passed or maybe he
was in transit…as I type I don't know time of death or details of the incident.  Some don't
believe in soul connections, to you I am sorry…I wish you would take the time to listen.

You might find in those quite and intuitive moments exist something greater, a breath, a voice, a dream, a heart leaping.



I know that on July 9th during the hours of 7pm and ­3am Greenland time that sleep was
absent and thoughts of Andrew flooded stronger than any day so far (I often waited for
sleep to come with thoughts of him, his last text..our last embrace…)  I also know that during
that day…as I weirdly wandered about the rainy day Fjord, that my thoughts of him were
odd….not solvent.

Andrew was a friend, a love, a soul connection, a climbing partner and an amazing example of a man. We have this wild connection that words can't touch.  We shared dreams of each other that were real events in our lives, even across the many miles that separated us.  We openly discussed our connection through letters, emails, morning tea and evening wine/art hangout times.  We both feared ruining the amazing friendship we had forged, but mutually yearned to explore one another in a different light.
It was decided that our friendship would never fall, regardless and so we danced a new dance. This dance ebbed and flowed through the years, even as Andrew traveled to Europe this April.  His heart was torn and he needed to do some sorting.

On this trip to Greenland, my thoughts and journal were already filled with my own sorting
about Andrew….my romantic fantasy of best friends turned life partners.
I analyzed our emotional dance… ha, he was a fabulous dance partner in every way!!  Now it continues in the most gut­wretching­body­quivering­heart­melting­
I­don't­know­what­to­do­with­myself­sort of way.

I regret that we didn't share enough time this spring, both distracted with various life events and a mutual uncertainty of how love- in the grand scheme- should abide.   I regret my decision not to drive over to met him in Grand Junction before I left for Greenland.  To gaze into those glorious blue eyes or feel the warmth of his larger than life embrace.
Instead our dance continued through letters, email poetry and art.   I became well acquainted with the affairs of the McDonald's neighboring Andrew's old condo…free Internet.  Tales of the odd folks
glutenous eating habits mingled with life details of selling his condo and the exciting move to Paradox Valley.

Digging his soul deeper into the earth.

Andrew has been the only person I can say that I gave my love to without need or expectation of reciprocation.  I have never felt so strongly for someone that I truly, honestly, openly gave my love to….because he deserved it.

So many loved him and he treated everyone with kindness, "My mom always told me, nobody is better than anybody else."   Andrew insisted on giving this love to everyone, "plenty for everyone"…strangers, animals, family, friends, and the earth.

So proud of him for making it happen.

My heart has grown with and for Andrew Barnes in the last 6 years.  Our adventures of
the heart, mind, and earth are the most fond memories and I can't stop replaying them in
my head.  We both disliked too much time between us.

It is overwhelming how time stands between us now.


­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­

Annie Rooney.

Good god what a laugh.  A soul connection immediately.  We snorted together, shared a gymnastics ­like passion for certain yoga poses, ran during the lunch hour.  ­
Sprinting and sweating.
We actually spent our :"solo" ­time together, running the 18k to the town of Todos Santos.

As I re-­emerge from the icy fjords of Greenland with an already broken heart, I find many emails pertaining to her death.  A drunken driver episode on the Fourth of July!!!
I stared at my computer screen in disbelief.  Lizzy and John sitting next to me thought perhaps I was joking.  I couldn't digest it, sometimes I still feel I haven't.
Annie and I shared every day of our Yoga training together from 6am to 9pm.  She jokingly called it
"yoga-camp," I think alluding to her parents misunderstanding of this 3 week choice of time spent.   Our friendship continued afterward.  Weekly phone calls, almost daily slack-jawed photo messages, talk of running an adventure race together--meeting in Vegas for a bike and a climb.

She is a beautiful woman that I missed almost immediately upon leaving her presence in February and will miss also in the days going forward.  My love her family and friends, I know I am a newer connection to Annie Rooney but it was a darn lovely one to have.  She is amazing!

Eternal Fall

Following the first pitch on The Prow

Wow.  I had a busy little October.

Climbed the Nose in a Day again with some friends...."Keeping it casual!"  I was only in the Valley for 3 days.  Man I love that place!

10 days later I found myself giving a slideshow on speed climbing the Nose at Metro Rock in Boston, This even was a fund-raiser for Paradox Sports.  The show went well and I thank Trango and Stonewear for providing swag for the give-aways.  Also a big thanks to my brother for organizing and helping to promote the event!

During my short stay in Boston, my brother and I stole away for a day of climbing at Cathedral Ledges.  We climbed The Prow.  A proud line I would like to go back and free.  The route was intimidating and seeping wet, we did a mixed bag of aiding/ climbing two of the soggy pitches but were able to free the rest.

My brother and I....where is the wine bar?

Tuesday Oct. 23, I boarded the plane in Boston at 6 am.  Landed in Denver, 9am.  Hopped a bus to Boulder, grabbed "Randy" (my trusty Subaru Forester), and drove to Estes.  Had a quick bloody mary at Ed's Cantina with a friend, unpacked, re-packed, then drove to the Black Canyon.

I arrived around midnight, chucked my sleeping bag on the ground next to AB and zonked out.  I had been up for almost 24 hours and was cross-eyed from playing a game of frogger with deer and elk on the road!!!

Rappelling off of Medicine Man

The pink sky poked gently at my eyelids.  Jes quietly rustled through kitchen supplies as Andrew watched the sun do its magic at the rim.  After a dreary stretch, I was soon standing aside the picnic table drinking coffee and catching up with my NIAD partner, her current road trip partner, Bo, and my favorite person, Andrew Barnes.  Jes and Bo had been climbing in the Black for a few days and were leaving, while Andrew and I had just arrived.  After a leisurely breakfast, Andrew and I moseyed into the gneiss abyss and crawled our way out via the Checkerboard Wall.  What a lovely route.  A little heads up but overall a grand time....I even found a guidebook at the base!!

Our plan was to climb Southern Arete the following day--evening putting some names down on the white board---not our real names of course--- but snow began to flurry about us at camp.  Colorado National Monument and Medicine Man were on my list, so we departed the Black earlier than desired. Our mission was to chase an eternal fall...snow was not appropriate!

Otto's Route, Colorado National Monument

Opening the car doors at Sentinal Spire, in Grand Junction, 30 degree temps and a brain freeze wind greeted us.  Wine bars, distillery's and visiting with Heather, my best girlfriend Prairie's sister, sounded much more enticing.   Medicine Man was rescheduled for the following day and what a gorgeous day it turned out to be.

Medicine Man

Fifty degree temps, light breeze, southern exposure, splitter hand crack, and a surprise photographer at a view point who emailed photos of us rappelling. Unfortunately the route we climbed is on the opposite side of the tower, but Otto's Route is in the background!!

We departed the next day for Indian Creek, popping off for a quick visit to friends in Paradox Valley, Colorado.

The car now brimming with potatoes, dill, and laughter we rolled into Indian Creek.  After a quick deciphering of Maren and Adam's message, we headed up for a half day of cragging at Scarface Wall with the family.

Day 2 the gang piled up at Way Rambo area.  I tried Way Rambo as my first climb of the day, but was unsuccessful.  I am terrible at green Camelot sizes.  Knowing this, I decided to hop on Slice and Dice.  Yet another failed attempt---well I broke it into 5 pitches!  I did finally started feeling a little more confident though.  Green Camelots I will learn to love!!  Andrew crushed Layaway Plan.

Day 3 in Indian Creek was Halloween.  Andrew, Brennan, and I danced to a little "Thriller" from the car as breakfast potatoes simmered.   We racked up for a Vision Quest.  Climbing in costumes that were reminiscent to Saved by the Bell's,  Zach, Kelly, and Slater.....that swimsuit top thing Kelly was
sporting is not ideal for off-widths!!!

Atop the Bridger Jacks, we could see the cottonwoods twinkling yellow, red sandstone spires and walls reaching up towards a piercing blue sky.  The Vision Quest was being fulfilled. The golden light of fall had found a way to hang on!!

Oh an Eternal Fall