Not Ready to be Housewives: Welcome to India

Main Bazaar

India.  I hated it upon first arrival.  Not because I actually had an educated peripheral experience.  

Buying supplies

I was a jet lagged unprepared American and it was 4 am.  

I spoke no Indian.  

I smelled of recycled air and privilege.  

With a fax number for my hotel contact and a vague mile long street location, I was .... 

I was plain lucky the kind and patient taxi driver decided to use his own phone to repeatedly call my mistaken phone number.  He asked every snoring street-side sleeper if they had heard of Karlos Kastel Hostel.  Finally he backed into a small alleyway with a smile, nod and hand motion that we had arrived.  

Public Baths, Vashisht

I was uncertain...thinking he just wanted to be rid of his pre-dawn cargo drama.  

He was right. 

We had arrived.  The 3 boys sleeping across the tiny lobby sofa's and coffee tables assisted in my check in.  My name was 'on the list' thanks to Crystal and Whitney nearly one month prior.  

I entered my private room, sweaty, exhausted and cross-eyed.  

I slept.  

Maybe I slept.  

View from the town of Vashisht

Legs twitched from 20 hours of airplane comfort.  

My journey jostling elbows in this city of over 18 million people had only just begun.  

Alone with many more hours to travel, I ventured cautiously from my 'private' alleyway to sort transportation onward.   

Whitney enjoying one of the many Chai stops

The Main Bazaar is a bustling commerce center in the heart of Delhi.  

Car horns, rickshaws, people and cows fighting for space nearly all hours of the day.  The hours zoomed by in a whirl bobbing and weaving through the street lined shops, fruit stands and occasional pile of feces…cow and human alike.  

Packing up early morning Vashisht

Finally, on the night bus, I tossed and turned almost rhythmically along with the exceptionally winding road north.  After a brief and unintended 3 hours pit stop somewhere rural northern India, due to an axle issue, I finally plopped into a gravel parking lot in Manali.  Excited my travel journey was only to be 20 minutes more, I hailed the first motor rickshaw driver in sight, forgoing any sort of bartering with the driver.  Forget saving 40 cents, I just wanted to be in Vashisht with the girls! 

Manali to Vashisht richshaw ride

A beautiful, stunning, breath taking ride from Manali to Vashisht, reignited my heart.  I had been so life busy prior to India and brain focused on travel logistics, that I hadn’t taken a moment to ponder and appreciate.  I had now reached fresh air, scaling lush mountains and ridges abound.  More perfectly vague directions dropped me off at the end of the small cobblestone road, right outside a public bath.  I ditched my gear at a local shop, backtracking a few hundred yards to a rooftop cafe.  Crystal and Whitney were anticipating my arrival on this day.  

A glorious sight for sore eyes— people and a language I knew! My shoulders nearly slid down off my back entirely as I relaxed.  

just a few of the regular roadway hazards

Summit!

The girls, having 3 weeks prior to my arrival, had just completed their second foray into the Himalayas.  Their first mission included a second ascent of peak CB6a (5450 m), by their route NibbiJibbi (5.10-, 400 m).  Their second adventure climbed an unnamed 5100-meter peak in the Miyar Valley, they named their route Poornima (5.10, 600 m).  This valley was icy cold.  A long storm left them tent bound for days.  Almost October, the higher peaks were experiencing a pubescent cycle.  Immature ice, once clean rock now pitted with snow and a horrible cover-up of crevasses.  

They switched objectives and climbed a beautiful new line in a push.   

Crystal cheezin 

Seeing their smiling faces, breathing fresh mountain air and nearly touching the surrounding peaks, renewed my stoke.  I bit my lip, attempting to calm the energy boiling… What do you think, how are conditions, what is the snow line, what is the weather? 

“When do we head back in?” I blurted somewhere between “Hi” and “It is so nice to see you.”

Pitch 3 of Poornima

Shrugging, Freshy Ms Fresh was up against miles of trekking with big loads, cold climbing and wet camping.  I am not blaming these ladies for lack of enthusiasm nor diminishing their accomplishments.  I wish I could have joined.  

Its just that I was amped and a little tiredness secreted out their gaze.  

We chilled for two nights in the hippie town of Vashisht, planning and scheming.  The third day 5am a private taxi van transported us eastward 12 hours across the Himachal Pradesh.  The narrow dirt roads (bike paths in North America) carved out mountain sides.  In some places the mountain regained control, causing total destruction to our path forcing all to reroute.  Delivery trucks, public transportation buses and our taxi vans literally kissed one another as we passed.  

Whitney and CB6a

Nearing our climbing destination

http://www.alpinist.com/doc/web15y/newswire-team-authors-new-lines-India-himachal-pradesh

100th Aniversary

This September was Rocky Mountain National Park's 100th anniversary. Being an obscure goal setter to keep myself interested, busy, whatever you call it, I decided to climb 100 alpine pitches in the park.

Ariana  PHOTO: Max Barlerin

At first I was trying for as many different formations in the park as possible.  This objective was going well, but saying no to the Diamond is like saying no to red wine and chocolate. You just feel better giving in.
Hallets peak is similar. It's a wonderful solo. Its a wonderful half-day climb. It's groovy to climb three times in a work day. ;).

I digress.

I counted 109 pitches. I counted the North Chimney as one pitch, as we simul-climb or solo. Having climbed it four times = four pitches.  My dearest margarita loving friend suggested a kindly correction.  If I am to count pitches, I should be counting them as per the guidebook.
So I need a recount.  The number is higher.

Either way. I achieved my obscure summer goal.  I climbed on formations that I hadn't climbed on previously. Like Chiefshead.
WTF.  Max rallied. I worked a rescue until 10 pm the day previously. 60% chance of showers and many alpine days throughout the week had me tired.
Sorry, I blacked out.  Did I just tell you I was tired.

Geronimo--PHOTO:Max Barlerin

I was hesitant. Definitely just hesitant. Bed seemed nice. 4am came quickly.
Max made coffee. He dragged my ass out of bed, tucked me into the truck, nearly pushed the yogurt into my mouth at the trailhead.

Okay maybe not that bad.

We started hiking. Clouds swirled slowly. Non-threatening poofs spooning the granite spires. Lovers not ready to part with dawns first rays.  We passed Spearhead with a minor glance. Max was on a mission for a new line on the northeast face if Chiefshead. As we neared the cliff, the lines still looked good.  Blue sky poked her head out just enough to support a mission upwards. Off we set!!  A ballsy 5.12 pitch off the deck, eventually led into some lovely 5.11 corners and cracks with 2 sections of low fifth class linking dihedrals.  We topped out just after noon and descended quickly. During our lunch break, I began my push for another climb on the Spearhead. As we packed up and meandered. Water droplets released from above. Persistent annoying mist, not a downpour. Bummer.

Arrowhead. double WTF.


I had never climbed on it. Saving it?  Blowing it!  Adam Baxter and I climbed Birds of Fire on the Northwest face of Chiefshead the day prior, bivied and rallied for day two in Arrowhead.  Arrowplane. SickbiRd.

The list.
Casual route
Black dagger
Pervertical
Ariana
The Beaver and Staircase
The North Face
Keyhole ridge
The SW- Saber
Dalke- Cathdral wall
South buttress direct- Notchtop
Spiral route - Notchtop
Great Dihedral -First buttress of Hallets.
Culp-Bullsier  - Secomd buttress Hallets
Better than Love - Secomd buttress Hallets
Culp-Bossier with variation start - Secomd buttress Hallets
Flying Buttress - Meeker
Directisma - Chasm View Wall
Geronimo - Northeast face of Chiefshead
Birds of Fire - Northwest face of Chiefshead
Arrowplane - Arrowhead

#amazeballs.

Arrowplane..Arrowhead

Touch of Green on Birds of Fire

Home Sweet Home

Top of the Park

Good Morning from the Cirque

Baxter getting into the Black Dagger

Goofin off on Table Ledge

New Route, No Problem.  Max on Geronimo!

Keyhole Ridge, Longs Peak

Notchtop and her goods

Rizzo enjoying the view from Notchtops Summit

Childhood Memories; Part 1

Yosemite for the first time.  

“I am going to climb that one day,” the young girl unknowingly stated.  Her father stood by her side.  Both their toes mushed into the sandy banks of the Merced River.  Her big brown eyes gazed upwards, frame dwarfed by the 3000 foot monolith filling much of the foreground.  

Fifteen years passed before her cheeks felt the gentle twirling of wind as it exhaled throughout the same narrow valley.  The same brown eyes twinkled.   

The girl, with 4 male dirt-bag friends, nestled into their Eco-line van.  Brimming with bikes, a futon mattress, cases of New Belgium beer, climbing gear and food, had finally arrived early one morning.  Dew clung effortlessly to blades of grass.  Rock consumed their visions.  The tingling hearts of the five valley virgins added to the electricity of the crisp October air.

The gang on Washington Column

The girl climbed.  Her swollen hands littered with small scabs from each days work, fuddled the zipper to her shared tent space night after night. 

The next morning she climbed again.    

The whole gang climbed their first big wall together, family style.  

She slept on the side of a granite face for the first time.  Thousands of feet of air between her and the ground.  A little nest in the sky.  




She learned. Her smile grew.  Her mind calmed in the oddest of moments.  She cried.  She tried hard.  She laughed.  She found true joy, passion and forged unforgettable bonds. 

Twenty-six days in a row she flung herself repeatedly at the overwhelming granite jutting vertically from the sunburnt horizontal valley floor.  She hadn’t showered in equally as many days.  Stoke was high, ‘finding’ the showers proved less exciting then finding the next days route.  

The 27th day she phoned her father.  Her toes dangling into the ever constant waters of the Merced River.  “I climbed it!” she exclaimed.  The clear waters iced her battered body, tiredness seeped in.  Brown eyes closed, the girls head nestled into the familiar sandy banks where consciousness melted in the warm afternoon sun.  

She day-dreamed of the possibilities…

Two

Libby and me finishing up the Great Roof - Alan Riling photo

“You can’t wait until Thanksgiving ledge?”  Libby Sauter honestly inquired.  Her headlamp sliced the crisp black expanse above, illuminating a sea of granite dihedral's.  A series of sloping ledges splayed 20 feet below me, with Libby perched on one of them.  I had just finished tagging up gear, merely two pitches below the location in question.

  

Pause

“Nope.”  I said flatly. 

Been in the back of my brain since I started leading 2 hours ago.  This momentary pause of motion, my first re-rack since the start of my lead block/Pitch 10, pushed me over the threshold.  

Libby and I started this day of climbing approximately twenty hours earlier.  At 4:30 am she blasted off the first pitch of The Nose on El Capitan, in Yosemite National Park.  

Libby on the Glowering Spot, The Nose

Gracefully dispatching the first 6 pitches without a hitch. Our ropes snagged at a pendulum on pitch 7, stalling us up for a breath-holding 20 minutes.  I tensioned out the available rope with just enough slack to get around the corner.  The snag released and our spirits perked.  The movement continued upward once again.  We reached Dolt Tower, happy with our pace.  

Slow is smooth, smooth is fast.  

We swapped leads at Dolt Tower, passing two parties along the way to Texas Flake.   I led a prominent feature called ‘The Boot Flake’ for the first time!  
COOL.  I monkey’ed us across the King Swing and through the Lynn Hill Traverse, once my least favorite pitch to lead.  Now, I freekin’ love it!!!  We swapped leads under the Great Roof, passing my good friends from Colorado, and again swapped for the last time at the base of the Changing Corners pitch.  

Reaching the tree atop El Capitan, I pulled in the rope as Libby finished the up the last overhanging moves of the Bolt ladder.  We casually snapped a selfie with a fancy phone, and I reported to my brother via text…”on the top of El Cap right now!!  Climbed the Nose in 8:20, one down so far!”  

Lunch on top of The Nose.  

Libby and I had mentioned to some photographer friends this particular endeavor, but interest wavered. 

"Coach" Tom Evans on the other side of the lens.

Oh well…for them.  

We were sending and psyched!!    

After snacks and a little water, we moseyed down the East ledges, reaching our stash of food in the bear bins of El Cap Meadow.  It was a little after 2pm.  Our friends, Joel and Neil Kauffman offered us some Mate and a candy bar.  Alex Honnold made fun of my shoe choice as we shoved our faces with a variety of food choices.  (I sport an old, loose pair of La Sportiva Barracudas on big wall days, instead of the ever popular TC Pro’s.)  Tom Evans continued proud encouragement as we sorted the gear for the next climb.  Rebecca Caldwell (and little Fitz) gave hugs as we walked past the meadow and a gaggle of other friends hollered monkey sounds as we disappeared into the tiny forest at the base El Capitan for the second time in 12 hours.  Refueling took just over an hour.  

The sunset during pitch 4.  Libby pushed upward, crack-jumaring and free climbing with efficiency.  

Lurking Fear was my first big wall in the Valley in 2009.  I returned this spring to free climb the first few pitches with Josh Lavigne, but hadn’t seen beyond pitch 6 in five years.  Three days prior to this adventure, Libby and I blasted up the whole route…Alzheimer on-sighting the upper pitches with a new female speed record of 7:47.  Although we were not moving as fast this go round, our pace didn't seem too far off.   

Climbing TOPO for Lurking Fear

After jugging the 9th pitch in darkness, conserving my headlamp batteries, I clicked the light on.  Our perch, a pedestal of granite, was like an iceberg in the Atlantic.  Dwarfed and isolated in the night.  

Libby handed me the rack, I was to take us to the top!

My stomach churned.  

Some tedious aid moves in the next few pitches loomed above in the void.  At times I felt crippled by the narrow beam of my headlamp, as the unfamiliarity of this route tossed minutes into the encompassing darkness.  Time and ground passes more quickly free climbing.  I narrow-mindedly missed tiny features, resorting to mostly aid climbing.  It is just slower and more tedious.  I could have smeared on little dime edges, crimped crystals with my hands, paddled upward more quickly.

Part of our gear.  

My stomach still churned.  

I sighed with relief as I completed the last difficult pitch, a 5.12 corner with fiddly gear.  During our record breaking ascent, I took a whipper up-side down while self belaying.  
It rattled me a little bit.  

The terrain finally eased to a 5.7 slab.  At the top a party was bivied in a portaledge.  They woke with my passing, and almost necessary mantling over their hanging bed.  

“Sorry, just a minute, sorry.”  I climbed 10 more feet, fixed the rope for Libby and headed up a series of ledges until I ran out of rope.  

After wall hands, tingly and swollen.  

Waiting.  

My stomach flopped again, this time with a loud thud.  

Libby arrived.  

“Can you lower me?!”

“You can’t wait until Thanksgiving ledge?”  Libby Sauter honestly inquired.

  

Pause.  

“Nope.”  I said flatly. 

I had to poop. Yup.  Poop.  

I didn’t have a proper disposal bag.  I certainly wasn’t leaving it on a ledge for those poor guys to climb into it on their breakfast pitch.  I was scared to Anasazi Shot-put it (shit on a rock and throw it) because they were below me.  

I had to take it with me.  

How?  

Well, I removed my last snack (a peanut butter/nutella sandwich) from the flimsy produce bag that contained it.  While I made my hurried deposit, Libby cut her small gatorade bottle up for me to stuff the poop bag into.  

If thats not fu&8ing teamwork!!!!!!

I then circumferentially wrapped the bottle with athletic tape, clipped it to my harness and finished two pitches to Thanksgiving ledge.

Lingering wafts with the occasional chimney move reminded me of the extra package clipped to the back of my harness.  I traversed across the Thanksgiving Ledge, jammed my way up the last 5.10 crack, fixed the line for the amazing lady I had been tied to for nearly a day and scurried up the final slabs.  

First female team to drink two King Cobras on the bridge--- yea, right!

Libby followed suit, unfixed the line and scrambled to meet me at the top of El Capitan for the second time in one day.  

Both of us weary but happy in the cool stillness of the night.

We had just become the first females to climb two routes on El Capitan in under 24 hours. (21:17)

The poop definitely cost us a little time.  

Sorry Libby.  














Link's to the Climb

http://www.climbing.com/news/first-time-two-el-cap-routes-in-a-day-for-womens-team/

http://www.alpinist.com/doc/web14f/wfeature-yosemite-speed-brett-sauter-smith-gobat

Clean teeth-- Clean climbing!

Ariana winks.  

Precisely etched corners refract the dawns early rays.  The orange, no, the pinkish-red glow of triangular granite looms overhead.  An evolving electric blue sky hugs from behind.  A gurgling pitter patter of fresh snow melt slips its way through lime green tufts.  
Color and energy abound.  

The Diamond lives up to its namesake this July morning.  

Brilliant

We approach quietly, soaking in the scene.  Long's Peak and its East Face stand proudly at 14,000 feet. 

14k Diamond.  

Two parties are tucked in a boulder bivy on the west side of Chasm Lake. They are friends of ours from Durango.  Just six of us hoping to claw upward through dreamy granite splitters.  Lucky to be with friends, lucky there wasn't more.    

Alluring

The North Chimney is no joke.  The Diamond's proximity to the Front Range, a handful of 'moderate' climbs such as Pervertical and the Casual Route, combined with the proliferation of climbing in Colorado---eh, the world -- makes it a crowded alpine 'crag' some days. The Diamond has become a popular first alpine climb.  Sadly, delicate grace and mountain humbleness has not yet been cultivated. 

Pernicious

Loose blocks tumble, grazing by heads and ropes---if your lucky!  Death and serious injury do occur.    

Stomping our way up steep snow, a wet cross over onto a rock apron finds us shoed-up and tied-in.  Jens sets sail up the North Chimney in one long pitch.  We dance the fine line of casual-moderate-terrain-effortless-cruising and wheels-off-the-wagon-loose-rocks-shit-could-hit-the-fan.

Unscathed, we sashay across the massive Broadway ledge.  

Jens following the golden crux pitch

Ariana teases.   

I begin to ascend the perfect dihedral's-- stretching to the ropes end.  My lead felt fluid, but my head was already spinning in anticipation.  

Thoughts refract.  

On-sight? Failure? Motivation? Ability? 

Jens arrival to the ledge snaps me from the day dream.  Gear is exchanged and he dances upward. 

Another moderate pitch sets us at the base of Ariana's goods.  A golden pillar sliced with a shallow finger crack.  I didn't pause, I am not even sure I made eye-contact with Jens. 

I played through.    

Timid at first, cautious of rejection.  Ariana's finicky nature precedes her.  

My breathing is labored.  Chasm lake glimmers and tiny boulders 2000 feet below edge my peripheral.  I place a wire, with a firm yank it holds fast.  

I shrug, still uncertain.  

Feet--feet-- stay on your feet.  

I step left precariously than upward, placing a small cam.  

Bah 

A grunt escapes as I delicately jam upwards.  Blood pulses into my forearms.  Ariana holds steady, providing thin finger locks and meek shallow hand jams  These provide temporary relief, calming my breath while balancing on tiny edges.  I miraculously find tiny stances and continue ascending.    

AhaHHHH 

Many more loud grunts echo through the Chasm cirque.  Exhausted, I throw myself through the final moves to the anchor.  

HOLY SHIT!!!  I exclaimed or thought or whispered.  

Jens follows gracefully, with a toothy smile and a giant exhale he arrives ready to tackle the final pitch.  Another full value brilliant hand and finger crack with a slabby crimp finish. 

Soon I am moving upwards.  While not as pumpy as the crux pitch, there is no backseat during this 140 foot pitch.   

With a glance at the time and a quick conversation of up or down...we couldn't resist.  

UP, one more at least!! 

I jetted up the last 5.9 pitch to Table Ledge.  With an ever important dentist appointment at 3pm--we thread the ropes and worked our way back to Broadway and the once far far away scree field.  Chasm lake still shimmering but the Diamond much darker.  

Her brilliance exhausted for the day-- Ariana let two cruise by first try!!   

What a day!!!            What a dream!!!!              What a dentist appointment????

Table Ledge Success, Ops --11:45--Time to Jet!  

Rainbow Walla Walla

"update your grey matter cause one day it may matter"

Partner and breakfast

Somebody said that to me the other day.  I liked it.  There it is.


I have gathered a hint that writing about my personal growth and attempts at stirring conversation (other than climbing) via a blog are not fulfilling certain requirements.

To amend this audacity, here is some illusive move-by-move intensive spray, ensuring your slack-jawed attention....


Rainbow Wall.  The Original Route.  November 10, 2013.

Partner makes coffee while you just begin to notice a world outside your own eyelids.
Frantically search for the park pass (the same one you have used for weeks and just used yesterday) as the sun gradually mantels the horizon.
Warm up the truck, simul-searching for park pass and shoveling delicious eggs into mouth (also prepared by partner)
---Hey, hey, be nice! ... I cook the dinner and make the lunch, he cooks the breakfast.

Begin drive to Red Rocks, with a brief weight load check at port-o-john near entrance to campground.
Prepare and discuss fib for entrance gate worker--as park pass still hasn't shown itself
Get ushered into park with smiles and glitter---FREE PARK DAY! SIcKbirD
Drive entrance loop while rocking out to the LCD SoundSystem.
Park truck, finish packing bags (partner sneaks 2 large coils of cordelette into bag, it has become a personal joke to do this on most outings.
***don't make fun your partner for having so much extra shit on their harness)

Begin hike.
Nail the first part of the approach, but follow a trail up an extra steep slope prematurely (after passing under Cloud Tower) because you figure you need a little more leg work for an upcoming Patagonia trip.

Entering crux on second pitch

Hike down hill through a cat-trail before finally emerging beneath Red Rocks best version of the "death slabs"
Laugh and giggle
Sneak off for a pee (hydration is key)
Kick steps up the seemingly endless sandstone slabs, while ogling at the rad fold that splits Rainbow Mountains North Face right down the middle.
Rack-up, snack-up, bundle up.  (November on a north facing wall....I put on long underwear and still have no regrets about it.)
Partner heads up the first pitch 5.6
Partner slips off 6 feet up the first pitch, his catlike reflexes turn him around 180 degrees.  He lands with one foot on a 3L drom and the other foot on a boulder 1 foot off the ground.  Left hand gently bitch-slapping the wall during the pirouette.

Silence

Brief discussion of pain and options.
"You Okay?"
"Don't talk to me just yet."

Climbing crux of second pitch

Silence

"Can I see your wrist?"
"I am okay, gonna start again"

Mulligan commences
Sending commences.  Partner links first and second pitch 5.6 to 5.12.  (with a half-twisting-micro-dyno to crimps from an awkward stemming stance in a blank corner).
Wild!  Harder as a shorter person.
Sending continues.  Partner climbs next pitch 11d (wild barely dihedral seam with face holds.  Loud ape noises echoing about.  This pitch is a combo package of gear and bolts),
and next pitch 11b (more wild steep stemming, face climbing, and finger locks) and next pitch super fun 5.10 through a tree to a giant ledge.
Wait, wait, wait.  Don't be so judgemental just yet, we decided to climb this route in blocks.  He leads the first half, I lead the second


Arrive at PartnerSwapLeadTime (huge ledge 6 pitches up).



Simul-climb through blocky ledges with tremendous rope drag, while placing minimal protection.

Partner Headed up Pitch 3

Lead up nearly hold less stem box, excellent climbing 5.12
Grunt while debating on giving up because holds are just beyond reach and another dyno, really?
Grunt more.
Grunt and crimp tiny nothings.
Send.
Continue up strenuous lay back with perfect one foot long allotments for protection while partner adds to difficulty by "accidently" yanking on the tag line attached to your back-side 5.12
Grab onto personally placed protection because accidental yank freaks you out.

Gather thoughts, commence mulligan

Pitch finishes with wild face climbing left to anchor.  5.11
Ascend leftward then up *heel hook for bonus points somewhere along this pitch.
Lastly, clamber a 5.10 hand crack through roof, sandy slabby finish.

Top out an actual summit in Red Rocks!!!!!!
Take climbing shoes off, set up video camera for summit dance.
Stub toe
Eat peanut butter sandwich
Sign summit register
Pause for a moment of Gratitude!!!!! (Andrew Barnes)

Partner following upper crux pitch

Search for better rappel anchors
Use slings that are obvious, but aren't the cleanest line.
Commence rappel, moving knot so its easier to pull, repeat 7 more times or so.
Touch down to ground alongside both ropes and happy partner.

High Five!!!!

Hike out in daylight, nailing the de-proach with no extra training errors.
Sip Beer back at truck while chatting with an older gentleman who finds it appropriate to look me up and down while asking,

"Rainbow Wall?  What time did you start?  Today? "

Woes of Failure.

Levitating up Levitation and Eagle Dance

Failure.  

ARG!

I suck with failure!!!

I find sometimes I am avoiding moments where failure is the most likely outcome.  

Following the crux on Cloud Tower

I don’t project rock climbs.  I on-sight.  If I don’t think I can on-sight it I shy the lead away.  

Its not even that I fear falling.  I don’t fully commit to friends, relationships, plans....because what if it doesn’t work out.  It is better to be illusive.  

HA!  I fear failure.  It isn’t really working out any more, this fear of failure thing.  

I turned to Justin Dubois this spring when I was having a little head epic in the Valley.  In one week last April I climbed three big walls in a day in Zion, climbed to Dolt Tower and had my first run up the Regular Route on Half Dome.  All-in-all, 10,000 feet of climbing in 6 days.  Yet, I was frustrated with my progress in mid- May.  My intended objective was pushed out of sight by partner miscommunication and sickness. 

I emailed Justin, “am I a sissy if I bail?”

He sent back something short...probably not knowing that I really needed advice, an outside voice.  

“No, crazy...settle down!”  

This fall again Justin’s words ring around the vast space between my ears.  

Settle down. 

Baxter and Andrew on top of Mt. Wilson--Red Rocks

Ironic as Justin drops me a note today, 
“I think I have your disease...I can’t seem to take a rest day!”

Yup.  It is a disease and it is catching up with me hardcore.  

I feel that I have been battling it, so quickly moving on to the next project...the next adventure that I might not be enjoying the present moment.  

Cory Jammin up the last pitch of Cloud Tower

The pain of my stubby right toe jammed into the one inch crack 600 feet off the deck.  

The grunting exhale that escapes my lips as I shove my left index finger in the space between the parallel sandstone.

The tingling sensation as my hand cranks, forearm burning, pulsing.  Breath labored.
Mind twirling, eyes darting.  '

Finding comfort in the uncomfortable.
Taking control or just taking.

Maybe falling.  
Hopefully sending.  
Whatever it may be, pushing because that is what we do it for. 

I backed off a lead today, because my shoulders hurt.  Because my right elbow aches.  Because my shoes are all blown out.  Because I was afraid of not sending.  

Afraid of Failing.
  

My ego hurts as does my body.  I had a great time in Vegas last week.  Trying hard, succeeding.  Clay suggests that I may be too hard on myself.  

It allows me success, but it hinders the smile.  

It fogs the sunset, slogs the movement, mutters the conversations between friends. 

.........and this is how it is now.  
Clinging to a pin scar on the first crux of Rainbow Wall.  

Red Rock Routes

Resolution Arete 5.10--11 hours C-T-C

Cloud Tower 5.12a

Rainbow Wall 5.12 

Levitation 29 and Eagle Dance Link-up 7 hours C-T-C

Rock Warrior, Dream of Wild Turkeys and Prince of Darkness link-up

Some cragging at Brass Wall, Gallery, and others

Zion Routes

Moonlight Free Attempt 5.12d (did not complete)

Sheer Lunacy 3 1/2 hours on route

Force Boyle 5.11

Bits and Pieces 5.11

Monkey Finger 5.12

some cragging at Touchstone Base and Kung Fu Theater, and others