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…

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

Resilience

Base Camp.  Barnes wall right of sunlight.

Greenland was a bittersweet adventure!  I have been home for 8 days.  As I write, I realize that reflection occurs only now, simultaneous with the blinking of my eyes.  

Nestled in our craggy fjord, a Satellite message brought Colorado reality rushing in.  My favorite person-a man I loved dearly-- perished in the Black Canyon. 

The mood abroad altered immediately.

My heart moaned, the echo lapped far across the shores in the deep blue water abyss.  The granite walls quivered, as did my soul.  
  
In this piddle of a blog, I find it difficult to give an accurate and passionate detail to our climbing adventure.  
My mind drifts off, contemplating the loss and my love for the outstanding Andrew Barnes.  

When rock climbing, whether it be soloing or establishing new routes on unfamiliar terrain, I feel enlightened with a certain ethereal clarity.  This feeling fulfills my being, is addictive, and gets me through another day, another week, another year.  

On Morning Luxury...looking south

The handful of long traditional routes we established in the Torsukatak Fjord may or may not be climbed again.
Man, I sure hope they are!!!
"Morning Luxury"--our second big ascent-- is a glorious rock climb and an equally amazing summit!!  It flirts a south facing ridge for 8-200 foot pitches.  Stacked with dreamy finger stem-box corners, jaw dropping views, and an adventurous summit block wrestle.  All on high quality granite with a dash of burnt potato chip-like lichen.    

Over time, perhaps, the rock will recover from the minor abrasions of our traffic and it may appear we were never there at all.  

The rock, lichen, and vegetation is resilient.  
  : the capability of a strained body to recover its size and shape after deformation caused          especially by compressive stress
  : an ability to recover from or adjust easily to misfortune or change

AB and the Grand Canyon. 

I seek this quality for myself.

The death and hard lessons in this year, draw my gaze downward.  I need to remember there is also so much beauty. 
   
With Andrew, though, I don't want the memories to fade... the vegetative re-growth in the fissures to mask his presence.  
I certainly do not want the world to appear that he was never here at all.  I fear with time these events playing out in all of us.     

These routes we established. The roots we established. 
They are life altering.  
Built from the ground up, first try without hesitation.  Without artificial means of support....intuitively.  With love, with passion and a little try hard.   

We were lucky to have found such compelling and natural lines.  To climb an 1800 foot granite wall first go is surreal.  Yet, we did it and three days later we ascended another in similar fashion.  My two lady friends and I...giggling the entire way--oh yeah and the token male, John Dickey.  (He joined us for all but the first one).  

Morning Luxury ascends the left ridge to summit. 

"Plenty for Everyone" that was our first climb in the Fjord, on an unclimbed wall we named Barnes Wall.  10 rope stretching pitches with a mixed bag of face wandering, waterfalls, loose rock, a #5 off-width dihedral, a finger crack over a roof, splitter hands, and finishing on ridge with a tiny box summit.  

I am lucky to have had such a natural and compelling man in my life as my best friend and love.  Someone who taught me how to compassionately love with no expectations.  To remind me that "nobody is better than anyone else."  

A man who believed genuinely that there was always plenty for everyone!  
Live like Barnes!!!

Thank you for reading.     

  

  

Beauty

   

The Breakfast Spire.  Morning Luxury ascends middle ridge.

Barnes Wall.  Lizzy leading Pitch 5.

4 Quickies.  John Dickey leading the 1st pitch.  

Pause on Morning Luxury

Morning Luxury

This is not my beautiful life...or is it!!!

My good friend Dustin!!

In-between the untimely departure from Yosemite and the ridiculous journey we just embarked on
 --- Greenland --- time made itself available at home here in Colorado.

Recently completed rock climbs.

Psychatomic, Monastery, Estes Park.  5.12d -- 5th try on lead

Undertow, The Slab, Boulder. 5.12b -- 2nd try ever (1st try was the warm-up climb of the day  ---ops, effed on-sighting!)

Undertow

New Music, Lumpy Ridge. 5.11dR-- Top roped 8 years ago....so an Alzheimer's on-sight?  Funky pro, but super good!

I also had a good run at the First Flatiron last week also.

A busy errand day in Boulder-town had me itching for a run up the First Flatiron.  Driving to Chautauqua Park, I was easily side-tracked by my good friend Kelly Cramer.  She just moved into a new place and I hadn't seen it or her in months.  Upon arriving, she offered me a PBR.

I didn't decline.

After a wee bit of chatting, the suns' twinkle off the First Flatiron became too pervasive.  I fled, slightly buzzed.

The run, led by Dustin, began a little more quickly than preferred (but looking back, it set the tone nicely).
I kept up, then moved ahead.  Having only been back to Colorado for 10 days, it was with great surprise I arrived to the base just under 13 minutes.
Still breathing heavily, I strapped on my shoes and let the paddling begin.  Was it the PBR or a month in the Valley?  For some reason the sandstone, this day, felt like the grip tape on my skateboard....so much friction!!!!

A smidgen over 11 minutes later I stood on the top!! Stoked, best rip yet!

HOME Sweet HOME!

I had a few great solo adventures on Lumpy ridge.  One day in particular included; Magical Chrome Plated Semi-Automatic Enema Syringe, Tennis Shoe Tango, The Great Dihedral, The Dog, White Whale, Osiris, and Pear Buttress.  While wandering back to the base of The Book, a walking error caused a wicked ankle sprain.  Adrenaline was still pumping, so I started up Pear Buttress.  Pain washed over me near the top.  I paused to enjoy the summit and hobbled back to the base, yet again.  My day wasn't over.  Bronson was coming to belay me for a lead go on El Camino,  5.12c.
It went with a few hangs.  The ankle hurt but not enough to use it as a non-send excuse.

I hoped to return before Greenland madness but he walk out from Lumpy was difficult, therefore making another pilgrimage back to the cliff undesirable.
    

Psychatomic!

Integration

I love climbing.

Central Park this fall

I enjoy moving in the mountains for hours at a time.  

I love a good glass of wine and laughter filling the room.  

I love falling in love, playing the piano, learning, teaching, and a full breathe filling my lungs.

The list could go on.    

This fall was filled with some unbelievably good times along with some heartbreaking ridiculousness.  

I haven't slept in the same bed for more than 3 nights since September 1st.  This in part to--too much travel, a break-up turned sour, and two residential moves.   

2nd Meat Wall -Indian Creek (Photo Nathan Welton)

We have had two fires in the town of Estes Park.  The first one, in June, saw KMAC evacuated and the boys running around to save Harry's house and property.  As I write, the Fern Lake fire continues to smoulder over Eagle Cliff --closing in on the 66 corridor.    

Top Sirloin -- Nathan Welton

In early November, I took a 25 foot fall in Zion, thinking I broke my hand and my femur.  Fortunately, my helmet-less-ego-hurt body faced only minor injuries considering the rock broke, my blue Alien popped and I fell upside-down below my belayer and the ledge he was standing on.  Andrew caught me abruptly.  The only other piece I had placed was a .03 Black Diamond Cam and it was only 4 feet above our belay.  I limped noticeably for 2 weeks with a giant softball muscle wad in my left thigh and a purple thumb/palm that still refuses to hold a plate or zip my fly without pain.  

We also elected, as a Nation, to keep our current president.  I am happy about that.  I had an amazing 80's prom themed birthday party and I have made some moves towards forwarding my company Dovetail Mountain Endeavors.

Lightening Bolt Crack-North Sixth Shooter (Nathan Welton)

All of these events have thrust me into a whirlwind of thoughts and actions.  Learning to trust myself, my instincts.  More importantly, to ask for help and take it when it is given selflessly. 

  

I am learning to place less value on the things in my life.  I am thankful for the people within the moments and the moments as they happen--good or bad.    

The gang atop the N.Sixth Shooter-- Nathan, Quinn, Dustin, Prairie, and Matty.  

I continue to climb because it is ingrained in my soul to move, to explore with a sweaty brow, to push through my fears with tears welled in the corner of my eyes.

I continue to teach, to learn, to grow.  I feel a little slow in my attempts towards integration...but better than not at all....Right?

Taking in the vast Canyonlands vista

"Think of the state of mind you were in before you began reading.  It was a fresh mind.  With no ideas, you came with a fresh mind to look at this book (blog).  If we can maintain that state in our daily lives, that is known as integration.  To be fully integrated means to integrate oneself totally from the body to the self and also to live in integration with one's neighbours and surroundings..... In this way we remain ever fresh, ever peaceful, and with ever growing intelligence."

BKS Iyengar--The Tree of Yoga

  

Lungs filled, hearts sighing.  

Self-Promotion

Blogging.  I have had a few lame attempts.  I am good at keeping a journal, but blogging?
It is time again to try.
I did great with our expedition blog, until the expedition was over.  Craig was really good about writing, so I kind of just let him run the show.
This?
This blog is mine.  No one to relinquish my laziness too.
Personal blog= Self Promotion.  Self Promotion= Less time actually playing and more time talking about playing.
I have my concerns with self promotion. 

As my good friend Karl (pictured) once said, "Enough about me talking about me, let's hear what you have to say about me."

I am not the greatest writer nor am I sold on the idea that other people might have an interest in reading about Quinn Lenae Brett.  Yet, I have some personal goals that I would like to accomplish and I think a blog would help.

58 Degree water.  No wetsuit!

One of those goals is climbing related.  I am trying to climb harder these days, more importantly, get my name out there.  Since I don't live in Boulder, have yet to go to the ever important 'Trade Show' in Salt Lake City, nor do have a 5.13 climbing resume......the process is slow.

Other problems.  I drink more wine and margaritas than I should.  I also am not entirely focused on climbing as a profession, for a few reasons.  One, competing in triathlons and hand-stands contests are equally as interesting.  I am quite good at them too.  WATCH OUT!!!!

Andrew Barnes, Wes and I--Handstand Across the World

B.), I don't have rich parents who are willing to financially support me, nor do I play the lotto.    Last, work is a must.  I tend to LIKE to work also (shh, don't tell anyone).  When my bank account gets to a low number I don't like, I find work to beef it back up to an adequate number.  

This all takes away from the full dirtbag lifestyle of living years on the road climbing to my hearts content.

Oh the sights!

I do, however, climb and enjoy climbing immensely.  It is a physical and mental challenge unlike any other.  I have traveled to cool places, met some fabulous people and seen vistas I otherwise would never see.  See below. 

Onto the self-promotion part.  I have a few 5.12 climbs under my belt.  I may hold a few female run/solo records in RMNP.  That is if a female record is different than a males records, if not, I am pretty darn happy with my personal records on certain ridges and solo's in the park.

Enough of that.  Time for bed.