The Ironman Traverse

I imagine there is still some confusion about what exactly we’re doing when bouldering.  We’re climbing, but not very high, and why are the climbs we do when bouldering called “Problems”?  This post will hopefully lay some of those issues to rest, and give a clearer understanding of the problem solving component of bouldering.

The “Ironman Traverse”, pictured above, is a V4 boulder problem in the Buttermilks boulders in the midst of the Sierra Nevada’s.  The V rating is a pseudo-standardized way of describing a problems difficulty.  The problem itself is about a 20 foot long crack in a practically sheer granite face.  The problem starts at the left end of the crack and continues along it to the right, until you top out over the right lip.  The crack starts out as a thick shelf that juts out at 90 degrees to the face, the only problem is that the face is overhung by about 30-40 degrees, making for an awkward slopey handhold.  The shelf only gets smaller as it continues out to the right, until if fades completely and there are only scattered crimps below the right hand lip.  The footholds start off fairly solidly on the left side and practically disappear on the right side.  All of these factors combine for a challenging start and an even more difficult finish. (Notice the slope of the wall in the photo in contrast to how I’m standing.)

The reason why these short, yet very intense, climbs are called problems is that it’s the perfect word.  Each move has to be carefully considered and puzzled out, and there are times when the right Beta (information about the climb) will make a certain move much easier.  When we are climbing we are not simply throwing ourselves dumbly at a wall hoping that we’ll be stronger the next time.  Rather, we are constantly rehearsing the moves we are capable of and trying to figure out the kinetic problem that the particular boulder presents us with.  In the following video you’ll be able to see that process.  We filmed ourselves attempting the last move over and over again, and you should be able to see the way the movement changes.  As we progress, we figured out how to use the left sided heel hook instead of throwing ourselves at the lip again and again.

 

The latest pictures

We’re chilling at a coffee shop in Bishop after a good day of climbing.  We met some guys who had been here before, and they pointed us towards a rope swing in a nearby river.  Once there, we met a family that was camping out.  They gave us the location of  nearby hot springs which we’re gonna go check out after dinner and a movie.  Classy, I know.  Anyhow, here are links to my latest photo albums.

Santa Cruz:http://cid-3ed9a50b38f67a46.skydrive.live.com/redir.aspx?page=play&resid=3ED9A50B38F67A46!778&Bpub=SDX.Photos&Bsrc=GetSharingLink

Yosemite: http://cid-3ed9a50b38f67a46.skydrive.live.com/redir.aspx?page=play&resid=3ED9A50B38F67A46!691&Bpub=SDX.Photos&Bsrc=GetSharingLink

Let us know what you think.

I'm Back! From Santa Cruz to Yosemite and Beyond!

On a cloudless, clear night, there is a time, right after sunset, when the sun still lights the sky even though it can no longer be seen, holding back the dark, making the sky a uniform texture, soft like felt, deep blue directly overhead and lightening to white way down on the edges. Lying on your back, you can look up a that sky and get lost, lose all your points of reference, coming unmoored on the soft surface of the blue above your head. There are no stars yet, the sun is too bright still, and so you have nothing to look at. Nothing to tell you that the universe continues on beyond the sky. It is as if you have entered a deep, blue fog, the thickest imaginable. You get lost instantly. Your eyes slide and skitter, unable to focus on anything, and soon your vision starts to swirl as your brain processes visuals that aren’t actually there. You are unmoored, unbound, unhinged. But then, suddenly, you see it. The first start, the brightest and strongest, has shone through the suns dying rays, and your whole vision changes. In an instant, you focus, you know where you are once more. That single star, a lone, comforting point of reference, brings you back to the world. You are no longer lost forever, drifting in the blue, but anchored once again, able to navigate, able to see, able to live.

I’ve been gone for a while I know. I’m going to take the easy way out and blame everything on filling out my secondary applications for medical school. Which is totally legitimate. Those things are not fast and easy, let me tell you.

I started writing this post in Santa Cruz, but Joseph was quicker off the mark with his post (no secondaries for him you understand), so I’ll be brief about it. Surfing was awesome, although I too would have liked those waves down on 41^st Street. The boardwalk amusement park was shocking to my desert trained senses. I had to go sit in a darkened room with a book for an hour afterwards due to the neon and crowds. And I burned the strangest places on my face: my nose (not so strange), the skin above my upper lip but below my mustache (a little stranger), and the place under the eye where you usually see bags, except mine were red with white streaks through them where my skin folded while I was squinting on the water (strangest). Apparently I looked odd enough to be greatly amusing to an 8-year-old boy in an In-N-Out.

We left Santa Cruz at about 3 last Thursday. Joseph drove, and displayed an almost demon-like intensity in his desire to beat rush hour traffic in San Jose. I fed him Kettle chips to calm him down. We arrived in Yosemite that evening, set up our tent, and passed out. Apparently surfing is a tiring sport. Nobody told us this before we decided to go surf four days in a row.

The next day we rallied, managing an nice 4 or 5 mile hike in Mariposa Grove, which is full of redwoods. There is one called the Grizzly Giant that is 92 ft in circumference, with limbs larger than any other tree around, the California Tunnel Tree, which you can walk through, the fallen Wawona tunnel tree, which you used to be able to drive through, and my personal favorite, the Telescope Tree, which you can walk into, tilt your head back and look straight up to the sky. Somehow, maybe by fire, the entire inside of the tree got hollowed out into a tunnel, with the tree still living around the outside. It is very strange, and very awesome. (If you seem to have read this before, I apologize to you for my plagiarism and will make it up to you under a tree very soon.)

Here we see the view from inside the Telescope Tree…





and a view of Joseph inside the Telescope Tree.




Oh yeah, and we saw a bobcat.





Yesterday, we powerized up the Four Mile trail in Yosemite Valley. Of course, first we had to stop and ogle El Capitan for a while, since it is probably the most famous rock wall to climbers in the world.



There are people up there, you just can’t see them!

Back on track, the trail is technically 4.6 miles, but I think they rounded since it is only the first four miles that go straight up the valley wall. That last six tenths of a mile is just a cool down. The view on the way up was spectacular, as you can see from this picture of Joseph.




So was the view at the top, only slightly lessened by the fact that you can drive up to the exact same place. We just looked around and felt superior, knowing in our hearts that WE had HIKED up to Glacier Point. Nobody noticed. Anyway, here’s a video.





I also decided to do a balancing act on the railing.




Just kidding. There’s a large ledge like three feet below me (it’s like a small meadow Mom, I swear!)

Today, we made a quick stop in Tuolumne Meadows on the way back east towards Bishop. Joseph was not feeling his best (we suspect altitude sickness), so I ran up to the top of a big dome like a small child, hopping and skipping most of the way.




Then my feet realized they were not longer attached to a child, and demanded that I bathe them in a cool lake.



I did so, and then skipped back to the car to rejoin poor Joseph.

Now we are back in a coffee shop in Bishop. Two more days of bouldering before we head back to San Francisco to part ways for a time. We’ve noticed recently that we are thinking the same things at the same time far too often to be healthy. It is time to regain our individuality. Individualities that is! See you soon!

Surfing Santa Cruz

It has been such a long and difficult Summer of climbing, that Wes and I decided to take a little vacation and head down to Santa Cruz, CA for four days of surfing.  It was well worth it. 

We left San Francisco, which was fantastic and deserves it’s own post, at about 7am in order to make our lesson in Santa Cruz at 8:45.  We rented some 9ft soft top boards and some cold damp wetsuits and made our way to the water with our group lesson.  The initial lesson itself was somewhat useful, they told us how to paddle, how to stand up, and what to do once up.  Once we got in the water, the teachers were mainly there to push you into the waves.  We both caught our first wave at about the same time, and I’ll admit, surfing can definitely be entertaining.  I wasn’t quite prepared for the insane amount of paddling you do, and after 4 hours in the water we were both exhausted.  We checked into our motel and passed out. 

Over the next 3 days our surfing definitely improved, though the waves stayed mostly mediocre.  The best waves I saw were at the break by 41st street in Capitola.  It was just set after set of beautiful 3-5 ft waves.  I took the above picture there.  Apparently though, you need to be pretty good to go out or the locals will give you a hard time.  With our 3 days of experience we didn’t quite cut it.

Looking South from 41st street.

We spent a our last night out in Santa Cruz.  Our surfing technique had improved the point where we weren’t completely exhausted by evening. We went for a walk down the pier and then continued on to the Carnival/Amusement Park on the shore. 

We finally got to see the Sea Lions we’d been hearing while we surfed.

I even found Wes’ counterpart Sea Lion, off by himself, away from all the ruckus.

There were a bunch of penny pressing machines along the pier, and Wes indulged himself.  He even recruited a small child to help him.

I wanted the burgeoning pressed penny collection to be properly honored so I threw down for a booklet.

The Amusement Park was pretty legit, but after months climbing in the wilderness, that amount of neon can be deadly.  So, after an hour or so of wandering around the Carnival like cavemen in Tokyo, we retreated to bed.

We are currently in the car on our way back to Yosemite and Bishop.  We’ll let you know how it goes.

A quick update on the latest…

 

Hey everyone, I’ve recently posted albums on our latest adventures which I will now present to all of you.

New Mexico and Shelf Road

The state is baller (ask Paul Rosenberg if you don’t know what this means).  We spent most of our time at the Enchanted Tower.  The climbing was awesome, I loved it.  It was pretty overhung and juggy, with big powerful moves in between holds.  My type of climbing.  So much so that I sent my first 5.11.  I tried to get this video to play in fast forward but I don’t have the necessary software.  So feel free to skip it.

Joseph sending Ooey Gooey a 5.11 at the Enchanted Tower. (also for those still trying to figure out leading, notice how I clip in)

We also got to meet some really nice people from Albuquerque, ate a bunch of pie, and checked out the cleverly named “Very Large Array”.  It’s a huge radio telescope.  Enjoy this video of us exploring the parabolic properties of the dishes.

We then headed North to Shelf Road, CO, another wonderful climbing destination.  The climbing here was more Wes’ style though, crimpy and balancy.  There were a bunch of nice climbs though, and we met a group of guys on a “man-cation”.  They were pretty entertaining.

Here is the photo Album from that portion of our journey. http://cid-3ed9a50b38f67a46.skydrive.live.com/redir.aspx?page=play&resid=3ED9A50B38F67A46!282&Bpub=SDX.Photos&Bsrc=GetSharingLink

Boulder, CO

Next up was Boulder, which was absolutely fantastic.  Wes has already posted about boulder more lyrically than I can, but let me just say it’s beautiful and the people we met there were wonderful.  I’ll let the pictures say the rest.

But before that, a wonderful video of Wes-on-coffee.  Don’t even ask about Wes-without-coffee, those are dark days.

http://cid-3ed9a50b38f67a46.skydrive.live.com/redir.aspx?page=play&resid=3ED9A50B38F67A46!345&Bpub=SDX.Photos&Bsrc=GetSharingLink

Rifle, CO

After about a week of chilling, hiking, climbing, and partying we convinced our wonderful hostess, Kika, to join us as we traveled west to Rifle. Rifle is right next to a wonderful shotgun canyon, no more than 20 ft wide at its narrowest with steep overhanging (Limestone?) beautiful cliffs. 

A video montage of Rifle’s awful (original definition – full of awe) cliffs.

Unfortunately, it was pouring when we arrived so we only got one day of climbing in, but I did learn how to drive a stick shift in a hailstorm.  Luckily, Kika’s car, and her nerves, survived and the next day was legendary, as these pictures should show.  I also got up my first 5.12 while at rifle.  It wasn’t pretty, I took a take at every draw at least, but I made it to the top which was an exciting accomplishment for me.

http://cid-3ed9a50b38f67a46.skydrive.live.com/redir.aspx?page=play&resid=3ED9A50B38F67A46!431&Bpub=SDX.Photos&Bsrc=GetSharingLink

Kika’s photo’s from Rifle before her camera died.

http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/sredir?uname=jdtarsi&target=ALBUM&id=5503297490118649169&authkey=Gv1sRgCIuomsfUxaXWfg&feat=email

Arches National Park

 

Amazing.  Everywhere we looked here were beautiful sandstone cliffs in the most amazing formations.  It was a day of wonder.

http://cid-3ed9a50b38f67a46.skydrive.live.com/redir.aspx?page=play&resid=3ED9A50B38F67A46!450&Bpub=SDX.Photos&Bsrc=GetSharingLink

The Grand Canyon

It’s really big.  Super grand in fact.  My only word of advice is “Don’t fall in.” While we were there, a guy fell for the first 300 feet.  It’s a lot of scree and trees so he only broke an arm and a leg, but… just don’t do it.

 http://cid-3ed9a50b38f67a46.skydrive.live.com/redir.aspx?page=play&resid=3ED9A50B38F67A46!475&Bpub=SDX.Photos&Bsrc=GetSharingLink

The End.

That takes us to the beginning of California, which I will leave for another post as this has gotten way to long anyhow. and Wes is very hungry.

Zen and the Art of Climbing Terminology

 

Hey everyone,  Sorry we’ve been out of touch for a while.  We thought it would be helpful to provide a short description of climbing terms and such, so that you all could become part of our jargon-y world, and know what we are talking about.  Here are some of the most basic forms of climbing.

Top Roping

Top Roping is the most basic form of climbing.  It is what most people do at gyms when they begin climbing, and it simply means that the climber’s anchor is above their head (on top).  When the climber begins climbing he (or she) is at the bottom of the climb and is tied in to one side of the rope, the rope continues up from their harness through some sort of anchor (some manner of fixed protection, it could be bolts on a wall, or could be a pipe that a rope is wrapped around like you will find in most gyms) and continues down to where your belayer is attached.  As the climber moves upwards, the belayer simply takes in the excess rope generated and keeps the rope taut.  If at any point the climber lets go of the wall and rests on the rope, they will essentially stay in the same place and the rope will catch them

 

Here I’m topping a 5.11 in Shelf Road.  Notice how the rope goes upwards from my harness.

Lead Climbing (Sport/Traditional)

Lead Climbing is similar to top roping in that the climber and belayer are attached by a rope.  Except in this case the anchor is dynamic, and the climber moves the rope through different anchor points as they climb.  When Sport Leading there are a series of permanent stainless steel bolts placed into the wall throughout the route.  These bolts are usually 5 – 15 ft apart, and serve as the the temporary anchors for the rope until the climber reaches the top of the climb and can set a more permanent and secure anchor.

To clarify, when the climber begins climbing, the rope is connected directly from him to the belayer with no intervening anchor so any fall at this point is a ground fall.  As the climber begins climbing he will clip one end of a quickdraw (two carabiners connected by some sort of sling or nylon webbing) to the permanent bolts in the wall and clip his rope through the other end of the draw.  This creates a new anchor for the climber. 

The scary part of leading are the falls in between the bolts.  As the climber moves above his most recently clipped bolt his potential fall increases at twice the rate that he is climbing.  So, if the climber is 3 ft above his last bolt his fall potential is at least 6 ft.

Here I’m on an easy route at Shelf Road.  Notice the path of the rope.  It travels through my most recent quickdraw creating a temporary anchor, and continues to Wes at the bottom.

Traditional Leading is when the climber places their own protection instead of using permanent bolts.  There are various devices that when properly placed into cracks in a rock wall will hold thousands of pounds of force.  We don’t climb trad.

Bouldering

Bouldering is the act of climbing smaller boulders while unroped.  Bouldering problems usually have very intense difficulties and seem to condense the hardest moves of a route into a short climb.  When bouldering you should have a couple crashpads (mattress-like pads) under you and some spotters to help with the falls.

Alpine Climbing

We don’t do this.  It involves a ton of gear, experience, and long slogs through crappy weather.  Someday maybe.

General Terms

Crimp – any really small hold that you can only fit your fingertips on.

Sloper – a hold with no positive features (or really crappy ones) so that you are mostly relying on friction.  Think of the top of a basketball, no real “holds” but you could hang on it… for a little while

Jug – any great hold that is easy to grab.

Flake – a section of rock that has separated from the general face and has formed a gap.

Pockets (2/3 finger) – any sort of small hole you can only get a couple (sometimes one) fingers in to pull on.

Cracks – A crack in the rock.  Most trad climbing revolves around cracks since you can place fairly secure gear in them.  There are also unique climbing techniques associated with cracks, that I won’t go into since I”m mostly ignorant of them.

Smears – Pressing your foot against the wall where there are not specific holds is called smearing.  It sucks, but sometimes you need to do it.

Sidepull – Any hold that’s oriented so that the best way to hold it is to put lateral pressure on it.  Think of pulling shut a sliding door.

Gaston – The inverse of sidepull (kind of).  Think of pulling open a sliding door so that your hand is eventually pushing outwards with the thumb pointed downwards.  That’s a gaston.

Mantle – pushing upwards off the flat of your palm.  Think about getting out of a pool.

Dyno – Any sort of Dynamic Motion, essentially jumping on the rock, or making any sort of movement that can’t be stopped halfway.

Stemming – Using legs and arms in opposition to themselves and one another to work your way up a climb.  Most often useful in Dihedrals.

Dihedral – A section of cliff where two faces meet.  Think about climbing up the inside corner of a cube.

Arete – The outside corner of a cliff.  Think about climbing up the outside corner of a cube.

Redpoint/Send – Climbing a route without a take or a fall.  You never rest on the rope when climbing, so you could theoretically do the climb unroped or free.

Flash – Sending a route that you haven’t attempted before, but you have talked to people about it, checked it out, and planned your moves.

Onsight – Sending a route that you have never seen before.  Essentially, walking up to a climb and doing it first time.

Beta – Any sort of information about the climb.  It could be which way to go at a certain section, what hold to grab, what to avoid…. anything.

The Rain Cometh

Today, we took a drive up to Rocky Mountain National Park, planning to do a nice hike to the summit of Twin Sisters Peaks on the east side of the park. The day did not go as planned...




In actuality, it wasn't raining all that hard. Short of pouring in fact, but raining hard nonetheless, and we didn't want to get that wet. So we ran, and ran again...




Joseph clearly beats Kika's dog Sydney in the downhill rain slicked mud road race event, a surprise victory to some. And I discovered the difficulty of attempting to narrate said race while keeping up with the racers. Excuse the camera work.

A final shot, of Kika's housemate Mo's dog Roux, in the position that best sums him up...attempting a display of masculinity, but somehow not having all it takes.



Even the owl in the background looks offended.

Welcome to Boulder

If there was a heaven on earth for outdoor enthusiasts, the kind of people who go for a bike ride in the morning, spend their lunch break hitting the local climbing crag, and finish up their evening with a nice hike to take in the sunset, Boulder would be it. And they know it. The roads are clotted with bikers, the trails with hikers and runners. A drive up Boulder Canyon reveals tiny figures on ropes looking like flies caught on a pendulum of spider web hanging from the cliffs. People in their fifties and sixties seem to have the bodies of twenty year olds, lean and muscled, with only a the face, a slight loosening of the skin, and, in the climbers, and enlargement of the hands to tell their true age. More than heaven, Boulder is like Mecca, with believers making the pilgrimage to the holy city as often as their wallets allow.

We are staying with our friend from WashU, Kika, who has a house south of the city that she has graciously allowed us to crash for a week and a day. If you want to see the appeal of living in Boulder, look no further than the next two pictures.








That's the view from Kika's roof, which I photographed about ten minutes ago. In the second picture, the slabs of rock on the right side of the frame are the Flatirons, sheets of rock exposed the height of the mountain, literally a mere stroll from downtown Boulder. This is the Front Range, where the Rocky Mountains rise from the naked plain and exert their dominance. Drive or hike a mile into those mountains and you'll discover why the outdoorsies flock here like moths to the flame.

All of this, of course, explains why we are here, being moths ourselves. The amount of climbing here is absolutely overwhelming, leaving me with a screen full of browser tabs researching possible crags. We've been several places so far, and even to the gym on a rainy day, but I don't have any climbing pictures, so I'll leave it up to Joseph to tell you about that.

But...I will tell you that we've been doing some hiking as well. Our first full day in town, we hiked up to the top of the Flatirons (remember those?), and looked down onto the city. Then a few days later, Joseph, Kika and I went out and hiked the Fourth of July Trail to Arapaho Pass. It was a beautiful trail, passing through high meadows of wild flowers interspersed among the pines, and eventually emerging above the tree line to slopes of scree. If you listen, a chirruping noise will slide down to you. It comes from the Pikas, which are small mammals that look a bit like guinea pigs, but are related to rabbits. They look like little brown rocks sitting in a giant field of actual brown rocks, but according to Kika, they can carry very large sticks in their mouths. She made them sound like many little Herculean buggers walking around with logs balanced in their mouths. In any case, they were fun to scout out once we were above the flower fields.



The Fourth of July Trail. We're about halfway back to the trailhead here, heading back to the end of the road you can see in the valley.



Joseph, Kika and Kika's dog Sydney hide from the wind among the rocks at Arapaho pass. And possibly the first picture on this blog not of Joseph or me. All for you Millie!

We've been well occupied as you can tell, moths called to the flame, with our bodies starting to suffer accordingly. Ibuprofen and Glucosamine are wonderful things. Somehow I still managed to find time to dominate a biscotti bake off (or biscotti-off in technical terms), and Joseph recently learned to make gnocchi. So if you see him, demand some gnocchi. Just tell him that he needs the practice his skills, so it's really for his own good to make you some delicious potato pasta.

The Cock and the Chameleon

Baroness Karen Blixen is losing the coffee farm in Kenya that has been her life for seventeen years.

“A week after Denys’s death one morning a strange thing happened to me.

I lay in bed and thought of the events of the last months, I tried to understand what it really was that had happened. It seemed to me that I must have, in some way, got out of the normal course of human existence, into a maelstrom where I ought never to have been. Wherever I walked, the ground fell away under me, and the stars fell from the sky. I thought about the poem about Ragnarok, in which this fall of the stars is described, and of the verses about the dwarfs who sigh deeply in their caves in the mountains, and die from fear. All this could not be, I thought, just a coincidence of circumstances, what people call a run of bad luck, but there must be some central principle within it. If I could find it, it would save me. If I looked in the right place, I reflected, the coherence of things might become clear to me. I must, I thought, get up and look for a sign.

Many people think it an unreasonable thing, to be looking for a sign. This is because of the fact that it takes a particular state of mind to be able to do so, and not many people have ever found themselves in such a state. If in this mood,, you ask for a sign, the answer cannot fail you; it follows as the natural consequence of the demand. In the same way that an inspired card-player collects thirteen chance cards on the table, and takes up what is called a hand of cards-a unity. Where others see no call at all, he sees a grand slam staring him in the face. Is there a grand slam in the cards? Yes, to the right player.

I came out of the house looking for a sign, and wandered at haphazard towards the boys’ huts. They had just let out their chickens, which were running here and there amongst the houses. I stood for a little while and looked and them.

Fathima’s big white cock came strutting up before me. Suddenly he stopped, laid his head first on one side, and then on the other, and raised his comb. From the other side of the path, out of the grass, came a little grey Chameleon that was, like the cock himself, out on his morning reconnoitering. The cock walked straight upon it,-for chickens eat these things,-and gave out a few clucks of satisfaction. The Chameleon stopped up dead at the sight of the cock. He was frightened, but he was at the same time very brave, he planted his feet in the ground, opened his mouth as wide as he possibly could, and to scare his enemy, in a flash he shot out his club-shaped tongue at the cock. The cock stood for a second as if taken aback, then swiftly and determinately he struck down his beak like a hammer and plucked out the Chameleon’s tongue.

The whole meeting between the two had taken ten seconds. Now I chased off Fathima’s cock, took up a big stone and killed the Chameleon, for he could not live without his tongue; the Chameleons catch the insects that they feed on with their tongue.

I was so frightened by what I had seen,-for it had been a gruesome and formidable thing in a miniature format,-that I went away and sat down on the stone seat by the house. I sat there for a long time, and Farah brought me out my tea, and put it on the table. I looked down on the stones and dared not look up, such a dangerous place did the world seem to me.

Very slowly only, in the course of the next few days, it came upon me that I had had the most spiritual answer possible to my call. I had even been in a strange manner honoured and distinguished. The powers to which I had cried had stood on my dignity more than I had done myself, and what other answer could they have given? This was clearly not the hour for coddling, and they had chosen to connive at my invocation of it. Great powers had laughed at me, with an echo from the hills to follow the laughter, they had said among the trumpets, among the cocks and Chameleons, Ha ha!

I was also pleased that I had been out this morning in time to save the Chameleon from a slow, painful death.”

Isak Dinesen – Out of Africa

Enchanted by the Enchanted Tower

We’ve been out of touch for the past little while for the very good reason that we haven’t been remotely close to any place with internet in about four days. If I wrote you an email, consider yourself very lucky, because I had to type it with two thumbs on my cell phone screen, which is about the size of a two by three swatch of postage stamps. Not so fun.

But we have returned to the internet in a spectacular manner, having managed to obtain free housing for the night! Yesterday at Enchanted Tower we ran into another group of climbers from Albuquerque and went to Pie Town with them (more on that in a minute). We talked about getting dinner together in Albuquerque, and then in a flash of divine intervention, Helen offered to let us stay at her parents tonight. With laundry. And beds. And most heavenly of all, showers. Thank you thank you housing gods.

The Enchanted Tower

Pie Town. What can you say about Pie Town. Well, their literature says “It’s all downhill from here,” because the town is situated directly atop the continental divide. But I say “Mmmm, scrumptious,” because they have delectable pie for sale. As fortune would have it, the climbers we were at Pie Town with were amenable to a round robin of pie sampling, meaning I got to sample FIVE FLAVORS OF PIE! Which of course to me was like Christmas, Easter and Halloween all at once (specifically the sweets consumption of those holidays). In summary, Pie Town = Awesome.

We did some climbing too, which was, you know, pretty cool. Enchanted Tower itself is a piece of the cliff line that pushes out and up into the valley, looking very much like the prow of a ship. A gigantic ship, since the tower is over 100 ft tall. There is a lot of climbing on the tower itself, and we got on a one nice route there, but the majority of the climbing is on the cliffs to either side. Most things are overhanging with nice pockets in the rock hold on to and tire yourself out on.


















Joseph is up there if you really squint.


















Pogue's Cave

That cave was a really cool climb, up and out of the cave on the left side with your hands sunk in these huge pockets that go in and then cut sideways, so you felt like there is no possible way you could fall off. That delusion maintains itself until your forearms get so pumped (climbing lingo for tired) that you just have to let go. But the best part of the climb was when Joseph climbed up to the lip of the cave and pulled really hard with hands and feet to get to the next hold. As he did, a strange hissing noise filled the air. He’d pulled so hard that he’d pushed a fart right out of himself. He clipped his next bolt, and we both cracked up.

If you were a scientist with about thirty very large satellite dishes arranged in a very large array for radio astronomy, what would you call your facility? The Very Large Array of course! Despite its remarkably mundane name, the VLA was beautiful, situated on the Plain of San Augustin in the highlands of New Mexico.














The Very Large Array














Looking off into the heavens.

That’s all for today. We’re off to Shelf Road, in Colorado, and then up to Boulder for about a week. Thanks for reading, and if you have any comments, leave them here, facebook us, email us, call us, whatever form of communication suits you best. We always love to hear from you. Wouldn’t you if you were spending the summer with one other person? Save us please!

We'll talk about the sky soon.

Hueco Tanks

Hello everyone. First, a great picture of Wes enjoying some Beignets and Chicory coffee at Café Du Monde in New Orleans.

Hahaha, I know right.

On to the latest. We have had a fantastic couple of days at Hueco Tanks. It is considered one of the best bouldering and climbing destinations in the world, and it most definitely lived up to expectations.

After leaving Enchanted Rock, our original plan was to head directly to The Enchanted Tower another world class climbing destination in New Mexico. However, as we drove West on Rt 10 we passed a sign for Hueco Tanks and neither of us had the will power to pass by this mecca of stone. Wes immediately started doing logistical searches on his phone, and we soon agreed to stop at the next Starbucks and pirate some wireless to complete our research. Within an hour or so we had found a place to stay right near Hueco that was a climbing/camping spot. We could rent crash pads (big mattress like pads we placed under boulder problems), take showers, and set up our tent. Excited by the change in plans, and excited to get to Hueco we headed 40 minutes outside of El Paso to the fabled Hueco Tanks.

A little about Hueco Tanks. Hueco's are similar to the bubbles in Swiss cheese except the bubbles are in solid granite. These Hueco's allow for some of the most spectacular and creative boulder problems in the world as a result of their unique shapes. The "tanks" part comes from the water that these Hueco's store during the rainy season.

Back to us. We arrived at the "Hueco Tanks Rock Ranch" at around 6 on Tuesday July 12 after dinner at a ridiculous Mexican place that had amazing decorations and obscenely strong margaritas. The ranch is about a mile from Hueco Tanks and when we arrived there were only two other people staying there. It seemed fairly low key, the amenities were good and the atmosphere was relaxed. The owner of the ranch was supposed to arrive later that night but after talking to one of the other guests, a lady named Becca who was a climber from Utah, I realized it was more likely he would show up the next day. We roped Becca into bouldering with us the next day, set up our tent, got to see a Tarantula (these would become a common and unremarkable occurrence, but I was excited), and passed out.

For those who are unfamiliar with bouldering, here is a brief description. Bouldering is essentially climbing on boulders. Tough to grasp, I know. The routes you climb when bouldering are called "Problems", which describes them perfectly since they usually consist of 5-20 individual moves of intense difficulty. They are a kinetic puzzle and you need to figure out how to use your body to solve them. Each problem is rated from a V1-V15, the grades are somewhat subjective but give you a ballpark estimate of the problems difficulty. In general the problems are about 10-15 ft tall, and after reaching the top you "top-out", continue climbing of the face of the boulder to the top of it.

However, there are some problems that can be described as "highball" problems. These problems range from 20 - 40 ft and one is encouraged not to fall. Highball climbing should really only be attempted when climbing well below your abilities so a fall is very unlikely.

Wes on “Melon Patch” a V0.

The first day out in Hueco was pretty tame. The three of us (we met a lady at the ranch who came with us) had very little experience bouldering so we spent the day by "Warm-up Boulder" a boulder with problems that may have been warm-ups for other people but were very challenging for us. While bouldering one of the park rangers came by to see if we

wanted to see a rattlesnake. Naturally we followed him but only got to see the FIVE FOOT skin of one.

We got our butt's kicked pretty soundly by the bouldering, so bruised and tired we returned to the ranch were the party got started. I had noticed bullet casings littering the front porch of the ranch, but I didn't think much of it until Becca asked if I wanted to see her Sig Pistol. I did. What ensued was a ridiculous amount of shooting off the front porch at bottles stuck in the dirt. This later developed into Skeet shooting with the shotgun, which, if I may say so, I did pretty well; 12 out of 16 clay pigeons.

Charles (the ranch owner) happens to be a retired cop and so he was very helpful in dealing with gun safety, how to shoot …. I'll be honest, I love shooting. It seemed like everyone there did.

Here we are shooting the clay pigeons . The launcher is on the left.

This wasn't the only activity at the ranch. We spent a fair amount of time playing the ever ubiquitous "Settler's of Catan" and "Set", and generally had a good time. Our original plan was to stay for one day, however the climbing was so great and the people so nice that we ended up staying for 4 days of intense climbing. After the first day we started going to Hueco with the locals who took us around the park to some of the best bouldering spots.

Wes on a V0

Me on a "Nobody gets out of here alive". A world famous V2.

Wes on the same problem.

Me on "Skimmer" a V3 I finished on my first try. It was very exciting.

I know, I look angry.

We also climbed two fantastic routes while at Hueco. Well… we attempted one and climbed the other. The first, "Flake Roof" was a spooky climb that started on an angled ledge about 30 feet up. Then it proceeded up a sketchy crack to a roof. Observe.

The route from a distance. Notice the tiny people up on the ledge. The route follows the crack that goes diagonally to the right from them, traverses left below the roof for 10 ft or so, and then goes directly over the roof.

The roof.

This is about as far as I got. I kept taking 15ft falls off this. Which diminished my appetite.

Wes looking badass.

Finally, we did a monolithic climb with ridiculously scant protection going up. Luckily neither of us had to lead this scary monster but it was a beautiful climb.

"Foxtrot"

It's a long way down.

And that's all folks. It is most certainly enough for me.

PS. This is coming from Windows Live Writer, which is a convenient way to post blogs I hope. If this works I’m never using blogger again. (Thanks Emily Yang for the heads up.)