tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49591021698171272512024-03-05T04:26:08.193-07:00A Vertical Life, In A Horizontal Worldk-bonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175070217248048421noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4959102169817127251.post-70225964675623440132012-09-24T17:15:00.001-06:002012-10-08T12:24:09.175-06:00YOLO BITCHES!<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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First off, Sendtember is nearly over and Rocktobers is right
around the corner so what the hell are you doing wasting your time reading this
shit? Let’s face it, I’m no Arno Ilgner with secrets of how to samurai your way
to the top of your proj. As a penalty for wasting your time reading this and
not climbing get your ass off the chair, couch, or rust colored momentum
harness and a bust out five negatives! Here in the ol’ SLC temps are finally
dropping and psych is on the rise. But, we all know from readying my summer
posts that I don’t actually climb in SLC. Over Labor Day weekend I headed back
to the great north for to sample . . . (you guessed it) the chossiest Gniess
this side of barely being climbable. I had some pretty hi hopes for this trip:
Send all the projects I’ve been working on in the Canyon for oh, maybe the last
five years The Fugitive, Songline, and Peaterbuilts. After the dust settled I
managed to bag none of those goals. However, I did manage to have a blast, take
some whippers, and get on one of the better routes I’ve attempted in the
Canyon. On a side note, but staying in the spirit of love for the Gallatin, I
recently had the honor of writing some nonsensical blathering about this
special place for the Black Diamond <a href="http://www.bdel.com/en-us/blog/index/view/slug/employee-favorites-kevin-volkening-gallatin-canyon-mt" target="_blank">website</a>.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikqayfUTl-uyh7McvVtUn79olQe2Vs0uuJqEQcCyGViKkI6a8Bl3_KUKxwkyPgrEzQC7h7jERFA15cpXaV4EZGq74axBjlGGWNXU-uchhyphenhyphenvM5zXnIUdJsvEVjCBg65wUVyqnBnyUAJ2w/s1600/Law+in+HG+2.1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikqayfUTl-uyh7McvVtUn79olQe2Vs0uuJqEQcCyGViKkI6a8Bl3_KUKxwkyPgrEzQC7h7jERFA15cpXaV4EZGq74axBjlGGWNXU-uchhyphenhyphenvM5zXnIUdJsvEVjCBg65wUVyqnBnyUAJ2w/s320/Law+in+HG+2.1.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Law on a great 11d in High Gravity Gully</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqw10mpXhrhyphenhyphenk-VFiQHyI7Hk2-61Srbb_iraEezyWzhhUqYpuNwaochuF1bsDGmUGBIZUHn3nUrD5ZQVHzzRtCUYnO4h93aqJ3qtIyXFMP8aankUlVvtJwFS7axqMP1XM8DxzndXTKcA/s1600/McClean+on+Peaterbuilts+1.1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqw10mpXhrhyphenhyphenk-VFiQHyI7Hk2-61Srbb_iraEezyWzhhUqYpuNwaochuF1bsDGmUGBIZUHn3nUrD5ZQVHzzRtCUYnO4h93aqJ3qtIyXFMP8aankUlVvtJwFS7axqMP1XM8DxzndXTKcA/s320/McClean+on+Peaterbuilts+1.1.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">McClean on Peaterbuilts</td></tr>
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Saturday, after warming up on the south side of Skyline, we
made the scramble over to the northern aspect. Next to the piece de resistance
of the canyon (Fruh-Lowe) is a stellar gally crack leading to 5-6 lonely bolts.
Strenuous yet controllable movement through the initial crack guarded the first
bolt at a decent rest. Saddle em’ tight cause its gonna be a wild ride through
perfect edges with no rest in sight. And that last bolt protecting the hardest moves
of the climb, don’t even bother trying to clip er’ until the funs over. For the
mere mortals in the group, I’d make sure to check your safety before embarking
into this terrain as the consequence of failure lands you some 15 feet below
your high point. Perhaps the most classic moment of the weekend was watching
Tate “Ninja Dick” Shepherd remove the quick draw from his harness, grip the
draw between his teeth, climb into the crux, and desperately attempt to clip
the bolt as if he were swinging a hammer at it. To no avail, the result was a
hysterical sight of taking the whipper (draw in hand) after no less than 5-10
vicious hammering motions of quick draw to bolt.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old photo of Law on Fugitive</td></tr>
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Sunday, back in full force with the fun-o-meter set to send.
After warming up on the climb, which after my first trip up it, had me swearing
to never return (Mother’s Day) it was as they ON. The Fugitive loomed above me,
seeing straight through my external shell of man. Instantaneously, I was turned
inside out, reduced to a heap of self doubt. With some solid encouragement from
good friends, I pushed my angst to furthest corner of my mind like the box of
yearbooks we all have tucked away. After nearly two seasons of attempts, the
lower half of the route is more or less a series of memorized movements,
punctuated by the occasional placement. The real difficulties don’t kick in
until the second and final crux of the route. A finger lock rest just prior to
launching upward into the difficulties allows the placement of a small nut. In
previous attempts on the route this nut had been fixed for several years.
However, repeated failures of potential suitors rendered said nut unusable and
justified the nuts removal. Placing my own nut in the quarter inch crack,
knowing a fall would permanently add the small amalgamation of brass to The
Fugitive, gave comfort to the thought of failure. Due to the insanely hot
climate of SLC, I’ve been spending more time in the climbing gym this summer
than any respectable climber would ever be pleased to admit. Despite my frustrations
on prolonged regarding prolonged plastic pulling, the singular benefit of these
extended gym sessions has been a noticeable increase in finger strength. Therefore,
latching the crux crimp (no larger than the width of several credit cards) felt
some degree of solid. Already updating my 8a.nu card in my head, after sticking
the next move, the send train derailed in a fashion consistent with the dream
of a young boy placing coins on the train tracks. Desperately searching for
some semblance of a foot hold to stabilize myself, my grip relaxed and I
launched into the air. The reassuring transition between acceleration and
deceleration resulting from the arrest of your fall was brusquely interrupted
and replaced by terror. The next few micro seconds of my life are a mix of
adrenaline and fear twisted into a climber’s sick nightmare. By the time it was
over, two quickdraws lay against my harness bull horn, one attached to a nut
and one attached to nothing. The first a result of the small nut placed below the
crux ripping and the other from the crux nut placement cable exploding. To this
day, I don’t know why the nut failed. A 7kN (1570 lbf) piece breaking during
use is a terrifying thought . . . <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>theoretically that piece should have been able
to statically hold a small car. Instead, it now hangs in my living room as a
reminder. A reminder to what I’m not sure. I could try to come up with some
metaphorical nonsense “a reminder of the frailty of life and your gear” or
connect the experience to some life altering regime it has come to usher into
my life. In all reality I say fuck it . . . YOLO bitches . . . you don’t buy
gear so it can look shiny on the wall in home. </div>
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k-bonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175070217248048421noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4959102169817127251.post-52842771910873380282012-08-16T13:19:00.000-06:002012-08-16T13:37:41.745-06:00Party Tricks<br />
As climbing has an inherently dangerous and adventurous undertone, a climber regularly performs feats in which he/she defies death. Naturally, I feel this can lead to the inflation of one's ego. I speak of this from personal experience as a young climber, pushing into "hard" grades fighting the urge to boast about his "epics". Forgive the overuse of quotation, but "hard" and "epic" are truly deserving of the hashes to indicate some question regarding how truly "hard" or truly "epic" they really describe. I've climbed for a little over 5 years now, and while many say I'm strong or climb well, I typically respond with: "Well if anyone climbed as much as I have in the last 5 years, your damn sure they'd be a hell of a lot stronger than I". True, I have put my time in on the stone, I can judge the type of placement a crack, seem, or pod will take from 100 feet below, but trust me my natural ability is among the least you'll find in the climbing. So what one may see as "hard" or "epic" is only a reflection of one of the dumbest ways to approach climbing . . . improvement gained by brute force of repetitive action with little thought put into thinking about how to truly improve. Despite the knowledge of my own meager ranking on the time invested versus ability chart; a pneumatic seed sprouts, establishes roots, and begins to flourish. Before I, or anyone else sees this, the pilgrimage to the crag is no longer motivated by why you left the ground in the first place. No, no, your now motivated by the hunger of ego. You can recite the most minute facts about product specs, you having an opinion on all things climbing, and you detest those whose forearms lack a bulging diameter greater than 1-2 meters. Sending, sending, sending is the only word in your new vocabulary despite the mass amounts absolute shit flow freely from your lips. Who cares if your buddy has success, as long as his success won't take the spotlight off yours. And you feel so justified in your own filth because you've finally accomplished something. One which was once labeled as an outcast by "normal" society, has finally found his place. I think that's why so many climbers develop a complex. How many talented climbers to you know who would fit in with the rest of America or Western civilization for that matter? Fundamentally, what draws many to the sport is connection with ability to accomplish something no one you know can. The drive to feel unique, to feel like your more than average. To feel like even when you bubble in "White" or "Male" or "Middle Class" on an exam or doctor's office quiz, you know despite the worlds judge of your character, you are far from average. I have no shame that this is what first captured me about climbing. Here was this community of misfits: the misunderstood, the mistreated, or the misshaped, who could complete feats which were physically and mentally light years beyond what even the "above average" citizen could complete. Finally, I belonged somewhere<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marge below The Drilling Fields on a recent trip to City of Rocks for our one year wedding anniversary </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Gallatin Tower . . . how I miss you so!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tod on sending the lower crux of Dark Horse. This was Tod's first day back to climbing in over 2 months and he casually sent Gallatin 5.10 with minimal effort. Old Man Power!</td></tr>
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. Ask Marge: "What is Kevin's automatically assumed assumption on strangers?" She'll tell you all about how it. Moving to Salt Lake has proved my <span class="queryn" id="queryn">misanthropic world to be totally wrong. Last week I was invited to perform the biggest party trick to date. Alex Baker, aka "the spider monkey" . . . he doesn't actually know anyone calls him that, and I'm not really sure anyone does, but this compact dude literally bounds up the wall like a spider monkey with less annoyance associated with throwing feces and what not . . . anyway, Alex dreamed up the excursion complete the Excel spreadsheet. His idea was to climb the Regular Northwest Face of Half Dome in Little Cottonwood Canyon in a day. This is where the Excel spread sheet comes in. Alex sat down and matched pitch for pitch, grade for grade, 23 routs in Little Cottonwood Canyon which would match the pitches for on the Regular Northwest Face of Half Dome. I was a bit skeptic on this grand scheme, but figured that if nothing else it would be a fun day out cragging. As per my normal blog style, I totally spaced the camera. Thus, I hope my wonderful prose can paint a picture of in a bit less than a thousand words. 5:30 am and Alex is already in the parking lot, post scooter ride in from Salt Lake. With coffee in hand, we headed up canyon to the Gate Buttress parking area. Rambling up the winding nondescript trail, I thought about what might be in store for the rest of the day. I'd never climbed more than 17 pitches in a day. Even then, those were short pitches stacked on top of each other with no lowering or walking between. I was skeptical of our chances, however the moderate span of grades we chose gave me hope that maybe, just maybe we could pull this one off. We started in the Perhaps area of the Green Adjective Gully warming up on some good 5.8-5.9. The first 5.11 pitch fell easily as it was truly a one move wonder (for us tall folks at least) . . . Gordon's Direct. Next up was a Gallatin Canyon graded 5.9 seam / slab. Body English, smearing, shallow finger locks, and a throwing caution to the wind on gear placements got us to the top of the area's name sake, The Green Adjective. Loonie Toones, a classic 5.11 layback was next. Alex was now into the start of his lead block, and cruised this classic. 10-15 feet of power laybacking on smears leads to a mediocre rest before firing a second crux to gain the chains. 7 pitches down, and one more to go in the Green Adjective. The hardest pitch of the day came early, a 5.12 layback . . . to more laybacking . . . to power underclinging. While Alex claimed to have struggled on Trinity Right, I couldn't tell. I was up for the top rope burn, knowing that if I could flash this pitch, I'd have a good chance at climbing the entire day without a fall. Thus far my climbing experiences on Little Cottonwood's harder climbs have been summarized by totally unpredictable foot "pops" during times when I feel my most secure. Unfortunately, Trinity Right fell into above category, with my flash attempt being blown by well, a blown foot in the initial power layback section. However, I was able to get back on the climb and send the remainder of the route (containing the 5.12 crux) without incident . . . great pitch. 8 pitches in the bag and off to the next area, a 7 pitch route termed Stiffler's Mom on the "Shady" side of the canyon. Building mountain thunderstorms over Alta saved our day by providing dry conditions under a cloudy sky, maintaining the temperature in the low 90's as opposed to 100 + as per typical Salt Lake summer weather. Stiffler's Mom fell easily (a few 5.6 / 5.8 pitches followed by a sustained 5.10 pitch, a one move wonder 5.11, and another moderate pitch) in a few hours giving raising our pitch count to 15. The Little Cottonwood classic, Pentapitch on some STELLAR rock was our next goal. With three pitches of moderate climbing, big runouts, and big time savings put us at 18 pitch down, with just 5 more to go. We headed back across the canyon to find shade at the Dihedrals area to finish our day off. 5.10 had never felt so hard to me in my life. Hell, 5.9 had never felt so hard either. The Dihedrals provide great corner climbing with physical moves separated by good rests. 5.11, 5.10, 5.9, 5.9, & a 5.8 pitch fell all before the nightfall and what I once thought impossible was now realized. A great day, with a great partners, on great rock made for the biggest party trick I've pulled (including the shannagins of the old 302 college house). </span><br />
<span class="queryn" id="queryn"><br /></span><span class="queryn" id="queryn"><br /></span>k-bonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175070217248048421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4959102169817127251.post-20946577526072081972012-07-08T14:22:00.000-06:002012-07-08T14:23:13.874-06:00Hell's Kitchen<a href="http://imgfave.com/view/1996681" target="_blank"></a>Salt Lake is hot. Like really hot . . . hotter than "I've been sitting in the passenger seat of the car on the sunny side for 45 minutes in a down jacket hot". Hotter than the EP Remix of Foster the People's Pumped Up Kicks featuring Hollywood Holt. Hotter than The Real House Wives of the OC meets Real House Wives of New Jersey meets Jersey Shore meets I Survived a Japanese Game Show. Hotter than (yes, it really is <i>this</i> hot) "Sorry I was staring honey but its Jess Yonker". So how does this place produce so many world class athletes? So many 100% jacked, tan, ready to crush, pebble smashers? Unless they've all coughed up several grand to front the expense of having the sweat glads removed from their hands, you plain and simply just aren't climbing here June to September. I hope in the coming months to decipher the answer to this mystery, but until said point I can't help but miss my beloved Montana. Her cool summers, abundance of alpine adventures, shady crags, and cold nights have all lead me to dedicate this post to my memories of climbing in the Gallatin Canyon of Southwest Montana.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jess Yonker (obtained from <span id="goog_583568665"></span><span id="goog_583568666"></span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/"></a><a href="http://imgfave.com/view/1996681" target="_blank">imgfave</a>)</td></tr>
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When I first moved to Bozeman, a future self would look back and refer to his predecessor as a <a href="http://verticallifehorizontalworld.blogspot.com/2012/04/rise-of-gumby.html" target="_blank">gumby</a>. I knew as much about climbing as Mitt Romney knows about how to fix the economy. The local guide book for the area was outdated and out of print. Thankfully the MSU library had a copy which I was able to take notes from. Though, at this point in my climbing career whether or not I had a guide truly didn't matter; there were probably less than 10 climbs in all of Gallatin canyon I could lead, I had 3 cams, a rack of stoppers, and my only climbing partner preferred aid climbing. I remember my first trip to The Canyon was in late spring, 6 months into my climbing career. What "climb" my partner and I had chosen alludes me, all I remember was being terrified. Somewhere in one of the numerous choss filled gullies, a typical to Gallatin Canyon, I struggled up what felt as hard as 5.12 does now only to find a ledge with absolutely "nowhere" to build an anchor. In what would become a common theme to many of my adventures in the canyon, I was too scared to lead the next section of 5.5 death blocks. Slowly, over many days spent rehearsing the phrase "your gonna die", I found my place in The Canyon. The soaring fins of "boy, we'd really like to be granite" rock hold gem after gem. To most, this area would be dismissed as a crumbling pile . . . and most would be totally right to label the area as such. In one of my last days in the canyon, before moving to hell's kitchen, a massive block dislodged from a classic 5.10 nearly striking two belayers and dog. However, to my 19 year old self, the rock held the all the things a 19 years old dreams of: somewhere allowing me to accomplish incredible feats resulting in a flock of girls who'd be sooo excited to talk to me. In all honesty though, even comparing The Canyon to a babe magnet makes me feel uneasy. For someplace that has given me so much, belittling my indescribable connection to the flares, crimps, and non-existant gear is down right petty. There's a huge part of me that wants to spill the beans and the beta about all the amazing lines sandwiched between lichened covered faces and crumbling rock. My experiences on these lines have been so moving so empowering, resisting the desire to spread this joy is torture. Untimely, if I were to do so, I'd steal the very thing which cultivated my love for The Gally . . . the adventure.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Callis' Worts and Corns</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Tower as Scene from The East Side</td></tr>
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<br />k-bonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175070217248048421noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4959102169817127251.post-51034855960066558312012-07-01T22:12:00.001-06:002012-07-01T22:12:38.144-06:00End of an Era<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Morning on El Cap while driving into the valley for my 2012 adventures</td></tr>
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What a beautiful activity climbing is. 5 years I've been climbing and 5 years I've been captured under its spell with no end to this curse in sight. While the novelty has passed, the excitement has only grown. The "sport" (if you can call it that) has given me so much, a chance to learn who I am, a passion to fill the void, and friendships I'll never forget. Since my last post nearly every aspect of my life has changed. I've left Bozeman, I started a new job, graduated college, endured a long distance relationship, and hit the restart button on climbing. </div>
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Commencement at Montana State University, 6 years of hard work, student loans, and an education. I sit staring upward, not at my peers walking across stage, but at the parallel cracks of Indian Creek beckoning me upward. May 4th through the 11th Lawrence, Whitney, Marge, Loren, Bridget, and I climbed in Indian Creek. The weather was hot, but as always the climbing was magnificent. We spent most of our days chasing shade, with many visits to cliff new to me at the creek. I wanted to focus on leading #1 and #0.75 sized cracks. The virtue of the big hands places these sizes as my biggest challenges in The Creek. Thanksgiving of 2011 was my first trip to Indian Creek. Mostly a top rope hero show, I made it my goal to get up (regardless of how many hangs) every route I attempted. I nearly completed this goal failing on Coyne Crack. May 2012, as climbing often forces you to do, it was time to face demons. While I was no where close to redpointing the route (climbing the route bottom to top without falling), I did manage to lead the entire ringlock to tight hands fest. Marge herself had a great trip to the Creek, with an incredible improvement in her technique and ability. Soon I'll be handing her the sharp end while I watch mesmerized calmly hikes my projects!</div>
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While in Indian Creek, I had received exciting news about the next chapter in my life. Since November of 2011, I had been pursuing a quality assurance position at Black Diamond. After many months of wondering, I finally got the confirmation that on June 4th, I would start my first career. Along with the news came the realization everything was about to change. Back in Bozeman, I had a few days between returning from Indain Creek before I left for Yosemite. Pat, Todd, and I made got a day out in the Gallatin. We got on a newer line put up by the Magro brothers on the South Side of Skyline Buttress. The route follows the first few feet of Lay Back and Be Cool, before finding an independent line arching to the climber's right. Sequential hand jamming followed by power liebacking, made for a very fun top rope session. We finished our day on Songline with Pat redpointing the route in two tries and myself getting a clean TR burn. </div>
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Continuing the "Tour de Last Month Before I Start an 8-5", I headed to Yosemite. Meeting up with two of Tate's roommates (JD & Dillon), we set our sights on Wet Denim Day Dream. My first attempt at C3 and JD & Dillon's first real wall. The 10 pitch route shares its first 4 pitches with the classic West Face of Leaning Tower route. With a 70m rope you can link these first 4 pitches into 2 rope stretchers, ending at the Awahnee Ledge. From the ledge, Wet Denim breaks left while the West Face breaks right. Both routes are extremely exposed as per Supertopo: the bottom 4 pitches are on average 15-20 degrees overhanging and the final pitches are 5 degrees overhanging. Upon arriving on Awahnee ledge, we met an aid soloist with quite a bit more experience than myself. His gear was still in the pitch from his ascent several hours earlier. In his words "I've only lead one A4 pitch in my life and a lot of A3, this C3 pitch was the scariest lead of them all". Perhaps this whole trip to Yosemite was going to be about knowing when you had bitten off more than you could chew. A limited discussion lead us to the conclusion to refocus our goal to the West Face route. On a nostalgic note, the West Face was my first big wall during which time I spent 25 hours in my harness, jugging every pitch, a considerable nauseated feeling summarized those experiences. Now, I was able to return to the route to lead every pitch over two days. Sitting on Awahnee ledge that night, I noticed the guide called for at least one 4" piece to protect a short section of wide climbing on the final pitch. We were equipped with only one 3" piece. Seeing as the guide also gave that section a 5.12 offwidth grade, I was a bit nervous about how we might progress past the impending obstacle. Furthermore, due to the overhanging nature of the line, rappelling the route requires significant down aiding. The aid soloist had a fantastic idea, we took several rocks off the ledge and duck taped slings around them. This way, in case we did indeed need a 4" piece above, our 3" piece could be placed against a slung rock to create a 4" piece. Low and behold, the section in question was no problem without a 4", and these stones never came in useful. Nevertheless it makes for a good story. We topped out the second day, and managed to make most of the descent in the twilight. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Starting the traversing 3rd pitch</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Toward the end of the traverse pitch</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A sparrow was quite loudly informing me of his/her disapproval of my proximity to his/her nest, which was inside the crack somewhere near my position in this photo</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dillon taking the swing away from the belay at a grand off the deck</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Keep in mind the steepness of the route, JD hangs in free space. His line hangs plum from my final position at the belay. </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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The night we finished Leaning Tower, JD & Dillon left the valley. I spent most of the following day recovering from hauling each pitch on West Face, finding El Cap meadow to be the perfect location to rejuvenate. While watching the water streaks on The Captain mix; I began to come to terms with how my life was going to change in a few short weeks. I struggled with trying to understand how I could possibly continue to climb at a level I was content with, but not completely disappointed. I knew I was going to love my new job, I knew I would be happy, but I didn't know if the pay was good enough, or work conducive to achieving the western world's definition of success. These questions had long been nagging and had long been put off. Instead of being confused and discourage by the sheer size of the questions I sought answers, I found calm. I said it before and I'll say it again, how the naivety questions recently worried astounds me. </div>
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With my partners gone, I met a very nice gentleman from France, Thierry. He was excited to climb some of the classic free routes over the next few days before Chris Welch (another Bozemanite) arrived. We climbed the Central Pillar of Frenzy, an incredible climb with pitch after pitch of world class granite cracks. The following day, Chris arrived and we set off to climb the ultra-classic Serenty Cracks into Sons of Yesterday. Much to my excitement, I was able to lead all but the first pitch of the route! Again, the climbing was stellar. I've heard it described as the best 5.10 in the world and I'm not inclined to argue. As always in the valley, after two days of staying relatively low to the ground, the walls called me back. Chris and I began preparing for our first trip up El Cap on The Nose. Of the may partners I've shared my big wall experiences with, Chris learned faster than any. The night before departing Terra Firma, we jugged and hauled to Sickle ledge. Chris had never jugged before, and by the 4th line, he was cruising. The following morning we set off. Leaving the ground I knew the climbing above would be awesome, but I never expected to find the terrain as good as it was. The rock and the climbing is . . . perfect. I lead the first pitch, while Christ linked a few above to put us on Sickle Ledge. Chris lead a great 5.9 off sickle an uncomfortable belay. Taking the lead, a series of challenging and exciting pendulums granted access to the stove leg cracks. Perhaps, the most exposed, run out, and capturing climbing I've done to date. Yes, these cracks gobble up #2 camalots, but when you only have 3, the climbing begins to be substantially more exciting. By the time we reached Dolt Tower, dusk had arrived and we were both pooped. We had planned to climb the route in 3 days before a storm was supposed to arrive on the 4th day. In order to do so, we knew we had to make El Cap Tower at the end of our first day. 3 pitches short of El Cap Tower, and the iPhone window to the outside world predicting the storm to be quite severe . . . we made the tough decision to come down. Tails tucked we hit the valley floor wondering if we had made the right call. Sure enough, the storm came and came with rain, snow, and high winds. A little reassurance that indeed we were glad to say "we are better safe than sorry!". </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chris on one of the final pitches before Dolt Tower</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Frustrated knowing we'd have to return to the ground from Dolt Tower </td></tr>
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Returning to Bozeman, the chaos of moving set. Climbing has taken the back burner for what seems like more than a month now. It seems my biggest fear: loosing my climbing drive due to a busy work schedule, is on the brink of realization. However, I refuse to give in to the temptation, knowing that if I do, all my meaningless worries of El Cap Meadow will return. I've chosen to take on life in the manner which best fits the person I truly I am, not the person I thought I was. We constantly "redefine" our existence, with an ever present hope that each new generation will be radically improved upon the previous version. Each new version more complicated than the last. I feel this line of thinking guides us down the path to believe the our current state is out of sync with "who we should be" or "who we are". Thus, the continuous need to alter our definition of self, as if in each passing minute the world has handed us a new piece of information revealing one small part of who we are. So, how long must we wait to find out who we are and what our life should be intended to do? I believe the answer to this question comes from the ancient water streaks coloring El Captain I contemplated only a few short weeks ago. Our thinking is fundamentally flawed in waiting for the world to lift the curtain on who we are. Perhaps, instead of sitting back waiting for the transformation to occur, or perpetually facing disappointment, or frivolously wondering if we've made the right decision; perhaps the answer to inquiries we've been seeking is person we see in the mirror everyday. And, maybe that person, not the world, has been handing us these little new pieces of information all along. Perhaps the best example I can provide to support my claim lies in the very title of my endless ramblings "A Vertical Life in a Horizontal World". I've struggled, so frequently with accepting the life I was leading, always questioning if it was the "right" choice to climb, or to work instead of continuing to graduate school, or to take the high paying job over what I love. It looks like all along, I was trying to tell myself the answers to those questions, to live the vertical life in a horizontal world. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On a recent attempt to redpoint The Fugitive </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Onsighting Anderson's Airlift . . . great climb!</td></tr>
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<br /></div>k-bonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175070217248048421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4959102169817127251.post-42025348922918573652012-04-27T12:01:00.002-06:002012-04-27T12:01:54.832-06:00Rise of the GumbyUrban Dictionary elucidates many colorful returns to the request "rock climbing". While I will not digress into the rainbow of definitions provided (warning these definitions truly are "colorful" so buyer beware for those of you who are curious), one analogue caught my eye epitomizing anew feelings regarding the sport.<br />
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"Of all so-called "extreme sports"
(activities that about 1/2 the time are undertaken, or claimed to have
been undertaken, by otherwise boring people in a desperate attempt to
become interesting), this is probably the trendiest way to give off a persona of ruggedness, danger, physical fitness, etc. Note
that most people who express an interest in rock-climbing or purchase
incidental gear such as carabiners, have never climbed and never will." <br />
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Enter "gumby". The gumby, also known as a poser or possibly noob in internet circles, is a bromidic sect of humanity native to local gear shops, Red Rocks, Nevada, and artificial climbing walls. Initially, a hypothesis stating all climbers were once derived from this genus was offered. However, this controversial assignment raised considerable discourse throughout social networks related to climbing (namely rockclimbing.com) pertaining to the definition of <span dir="auto">"egociality" (term used for the highest classification on one's self) and the existence of other gumby-like classes found in skiing, kayaking, and other badass sports. The gumby has a highly unusual combination of physical and mental attributes allowing it to, not only survive, but thrive in environments considered harsh to most climbers. One such example of the gumby's ability to cultivate a niche in a typically discordant environment can be found at your local climbing gym. While the gumby is a commonplace in this climate year round, during the summer month the temptation of actually going rock climbing routinely drives most climbers from this setting. Be as it may, the gumby's superior adaptation of never actually having gone rock climbing allow this intriguing creature to reside within the climbing gym regardless of the heat. </span></div>
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<span dir="auto">Recently, an evolutionary leap has occurred allowing the gumby to take on characteristics of a climber. At a growing number of climbing destinations the frequency of gumby observations has increased nearly 10,000% in the past ten years. It appears that somehow, gumbys have acquired the ability to climb outside.</span><span dir="auto"> As gumby populations continue to spread the native
species, climbers, are scratching their heads as to the cause of the
gumby expansion.</span><span dir="auto"> Even more troubling is progressively more gumbys are implementing a rudimentary tool allowing them masquerade as a climber, the internet. The influence the internet has had on climbing in the last five years is unparallelled in the history of climbing. In the past, the evolutionary process of human to climber required a genetic mutation of cell comprising the neocortex. It appears the gumbys utilization of this tool prematurely insights a substandard derivative of the normal climbing mutation. This mutation imparts the abnormality with a exaggerated knowledge of random or "gimicky" climbing gear, an increased capacity for memorization of guidebooks, and the inability to differentiate between desirable and undesirable climbing locations. </span></div>
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<span dir="auto">Perhaps the most startling result associated with the rise of the gumby is the potential implications the internet has on those establishing the authentic climbing mutation. As exemplified by this blogpost itself, the pathway leading to development of the wildtype climbing mutation may be affected by elevated internet use. So, as summer and warm days at the crag quickly approach (if not already arrived) keep this little nugget of palaver in your back pocket. Remember why you climb and why we started climbing in the first place; was it to "affect a persona of ruggedness, danger, and physical fitness", appear more appealing to the opposite sex, gain praise from your peers, add a tick to mountainproject.com or up your rating on 8a, gain fame and fortune, or mimic Stallone? Or were you driven to climb because wanted to explore the unknown, seek adventure, achieve something you never thought possible, travel, live, love, and/or be in the vertical? Despite my grandest efforts, I find myself succumbing the the temptations of the ego. But, as I repeatedly strive to remonstrate the evils of the id, I find my relationship with climbing more demonstrative. Elicit the inner gumby, force a mutation in your neocortex, and unmask your true rock climber. </span></div>
<br />k-bonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175070217248048421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4959102169817127251.post-27868666319100731702012-03-19T15:56:00.000-06:002012-03-19T15:56:54.233-06:00The unstoppable force and the immovable objectLas Vegas, Nevada. The city of sin, here the unstoppable force meets the immoveable object on a nightly basis. Lives are started and ended on the tables and in the canyons of Red Rocks. Through hallow motivation, the conception of the modern American and the modern climber occurs in the embrace of the continuous calming winds. Birth sees the inexperienced new born a welcoming environment. Schooled in the ways of credit cards and topless bars or quickdraws and gri gri's, youth's fantasy fades to teenage adolescence. Having experienced the confidence boosting, jug hauls of the Trophy Wall, I can attest to over inflated state of one's ego early in life.<br />
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As per life's great irony, the day a child's blinders are removed so that they may see their parents as people; the glory of fixed draws and white crimps at The Gallery fades. Life is now no longer a game, a chance role of the dice. Our hero's existence has become irrevocably interwoven with the game. The player can't stop playing and the fingers always feel sore. Just as a river strives to overcome but never achieves its freedom from gravity, so does the will of all self proclaimed dirt bags. Lucky for the player, he his afforded to the proximal comfort of the nearest high rollers section of his favorite hell. The journey is second rate compared to the intangible, fallacious wealth of the destination. <br />
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As a young adult, my sights were set on a new life. A new start to which the future of steep vertical days to come are shaped. A style unlike anything experienced before, wall climbing. Tri Tip ascends a Navajo quality face on discontinuous features for an incredible 180 ft first pitch. Somewhere high on the pitch, I became hooked by the continuously linked boulder problems, high above gear. This new style, unlike anything I've ever experienced before gave a poignant clear contrast to the destination focused self. Returning to the horizontal, I could feel my toes wiggling in free space above the precipice of change. Maybe the destination, the big win, the one life changing experience everyone is seeking out, maybe, just maybe it doesn't exist. <br />
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Almost as if it could be predicted, as if it was density, the foretold unstoppable force had me unknowingly in it. Swept up in a history running its course in the path left by "why not" and "suffer for it". The light of the Luxor split the divided the sky like the rich and poor it dictates, the morning we awoke to meet an immoveable object. Late per usual, our arrival at the slabs questioned my very dedication to this life. However, the time for questioning had long since past. The only time left was for action, action to climb and absolutely love every moment of it. The immaculate corner allowed for incredibly powerful climbing through exciting positions and into a space never previously known. Over the rainbow and through the red dihedral, the collision occurred. Small at first but in totality so large the heat of this reaction will always be felt. The same hallow beginnings returned to contrast the false reality in which we live. On the tables of Vegas fortunes are never made, lives are never improved, and hearts are never one. And, if one can ever be as fortunate enough to experience love, happiness, or freedom the true shining star is the work invested, not the moment of success. While it has been told to me so many times I wince even as I type these cliched words, the journey is truly what is important and never the destination. Objectifying this obvious fact inevitably invokes thoughts of all those who have made my accomplishments possible. I've been all so lucky to share my forays with only incredible people so, to all the nights we've spent immortalizing the lines, to all the times you've held my life your hands, to all we've invested, gained and lost, and to all the unknown futures we mights share, this post is for you.<br />
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Finally, before I go, I offer this one last tale. I hope it provides a clear underline to this whole notion of the journey in exchange for the destination. It was hot, far too hot climb. My Bronco II had and never will have air condition, so the cool air of Denny's was all but the only option to escape the sweltering sun. We sat at a small table in the perpetually uncrowded atmosphere typical of any Denny's you'll walk into in Anytown, USA. The food was terrible, but the companionship terrific. She was, still, and always will be the most beautiful woman I'll ever lay eyes on, and this day was no exception. I told her I never thought I'd climb 5.12, and questioned my very motivation to climb. I was a 5.9 climber at best and the destination was my only view. Simply put, the journey didn't even exist. Naturally, being a member of the opposite sex, she was blessed with the power to mature, and thus the journey did and probably always had existed to her. As always, she reassured my wavering confidence, bolstered my motivations, and played Devil's advocate all too well. We payed our bill, sucked the last drops of orange juice from their cups, and continued down the path of life together. Looking back on this moment now with more experienced eyes, this is the moment walls were removed and possibilities realized. Without this wonderful women, I would still be stumbling through the dark believe I could never climb 5.12, or ever be truly happy, or see a life outside the boundaries of rock, summits, and adventure. I'd be alive, but not living.k-bonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175070217248048421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4959102169817127251.post-61078438258816317422012-02-16T18:59:00.000-07:002012-02-16T18:59:24.644-07:00Whole lotta nottinBlah, blah, blah . . . it's been a while since I've written. It's also been a while since I've done any cool shit. So, if you were tuning in to read about my latest romp into the vertical . . . I'm going to have to disappoint. This is not to say I haven't gotten out, I just haven't done anything blog worthy. My last post was exactly one week before the infamous Prince and Princess of Plastic bouldering competition at Montana State University.<br />
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Comp Recap:<br />
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SHAME ON ALL OF YOU WHO DID NOT COMPETE! We put more blood, sweat, and tears into this comp than any PPP before. However, we had less participants than any PPP before. In the end, the work paid off. Nikita won the men's beginner division and Kezia won the women's beginner division. For the open category, it was Ho down. No the previous sentence does not contain a spelling error, Sarah and Jeff Ho won the open this year. Mr. Ho at the ripe old age of 85 (he doesn't show it does he) performed a climbing feat to rival anything venga inspired send in ANY climbing movie, for all time. Men's final #2 was caped with a mantle onto two volumes using pretty much only grip tape on the volumes. As Ho was setting up for this mantle his foot popped, leaving the master swinging wildly with only one point of contact. Somewhere deep in his Crussian heritage, the power of crush was summoned. Not only did Ho Cakes control this swing to beat all swings, he more or less completed a one arm pull up and finished the route . . . flashing the problem.<br />
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The following weekend, I headed out to California Ice. Had this trip been more than a glorified hike, I might have something ligit to discuss. The Haus Boss and myself charged out to East Rosebud on Thursday evening, hoping to get an alpine start on Friday. We awoke to what looked to be a great day with clear stars above we headed up toward Cali Ice. We punched it up to the base in a few hours. The flow is in incredible shape at the moment. A wall of massive blue/green ice just wanted to be climbed. Or maybe it didn't. As we were mulling around the base, Law punched through into an ankle deep pond, soaking his boots and dashing any hopes we had about climbing. I have to Law props as he did attempt to lead the first pitch only to encounter frozen toes and fingers. We bailed and were home by just after dark.<br />
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I continued on the Montana comp circuit on Saturday with a visit to Billings where SteepWorld hosted the Montana Bouldering Championship. With a name like that, who could resist. It was a great comp with a lot of fun problems and a great atmosphere. Props to the Billings crew for putting on a fun event!<br />
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Superbowl Sunday followed the Saturday comp in Billings. Erik Christensen, The Groseths, my lovely wife, and I headed out to Whiskey. I'd had enough plastic as was ready for some real stone to chew up the fingers. As always, Whiskey allowed for a great day with an hour or two of T-shirt tolerable sending!<br />
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The following week I threw my back out . . . depressed and angry I bought Skyrim for PS3 and more or less have accomplished nothing except for leveling up to 20.<br />
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No review this week, just a bunch of non sense. Back with more later! <br />
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k-bonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175070217248048421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4959102169817127251.post-5869163108832838062012-01-21T18:58:00.000-07:002012-01-21T18:58:15.935-07:00Back to the Desert<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXQ7P_buTGMPLdDIPb_FUoH2X1Z8umlUVUJX09xjxnbTRie3ccQcL42C7Pf0kDdkir1yvNqc12Hrk9L-0pYnMDPKjIb4nVv9VKqwYDjQJLV7gxsloLuojewuaqFdjcto8sfJZ7x7c3Zw/s1600/photo%25281%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXQ7P_buTGMPLdDIPb_FUoH2X1Z8umlUVUJX09xjxnbTRie3ccQcL42C7Pf0kDdkir1yvNqc12Hrk9L-0pYnMDPKjIb4nVv9VKqwYDjQJLV7gxsloLuojewuaqFdjcto8sfJZ7x7c3Zw/s320/photo%25281%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">West Yellowstone . . . 10 hours to go</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</tbody></table>Sitting in a warm comfortable coffee shop, off the road, and trying to regurgitate my most recent foray in climbing; I feel nearly ashamed for ever questioning my motivations. However, three weeks ago, while driving on the worst roads imaginable, I had a hard time swallowing my decision to drive all the way to Indian Creek for only three days of climbing. Following some invisible Zamboni, it became clear the damage to life and property would be similar if you drove 5 or 50 miles per hour through Island Park. As the road was a sheet of ice, any attempt to use the breaks would only result in Blades of Glory inspired shit show of sliding. But now, this stressful event seems but a tiny price to pay for three days of uncrowded bliss in The Creek. How could I even begin to question a chance to go to Indian Creek? You stupid American, only concerned with the now! As per usual, we rolled into the creek late on the night of New Years Day and attempted to head to our favorite camping sites near the Bridger Jacks. . . key word "attempted". The river crossing ended up being a full on 4X4, slap into a Slim Jim rally causing our trusty old Subaru Wagon to magically gain the sound of Turbo Charged, tricked out, STI. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLAjkXrF1FX2vhHjsqiwUPzTwWT9IpzcgRiSUY8VWbY4QVDGfZrpNKeOpuQHUPMNH-ZKyVNG5JJTDm-wRzSSCPR9Gi2wDDmjKMpsQfCSBQ-W4em68O7TswvSDvVR0u6zHaqOMbHvYDrw/s1600/photo%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLAjkXrF1FX2vhHjsqiwUPzTwWT9IpzcgRiSUY8VWbY4QVDGfZrpNKeOpuQHUPMNH-ZKyVNG5JJTDm-wRzSSCPR9Gi2wDDmjKMpsQfCSBQ-W4em68O7TswvSDvVR0u6zHaqOMbHvYDrw/s320/photo%25282%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">M and Lhotse enjoying the desert's best </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</tbody></table>The climbing was incredible, as if it could be anything but! Marge is on a climbing hot streak right now and pulled out the big guns with several leads and numerous impressive top rope sessions. The most impressive of which was a battle of all battles to reach the top of Dos Hermanos! We had the place to ourselves and spent a day at Supercrack, a day at Donnely Canyon, and a day at Reservoir Wall. To keep balance in the world, my climbing for the trip was much less impressive than my wife's (as been the case lately). I managed one hang every hard lead I tried only to fire the remainder of the route with minimal rests (heartbreaker). <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixxsWwKFs0SMBaWhcUw0ocDbGRj_LRzwiiywdpYGFZ-dOBmq5DfDFpiM0wmwxDjzZE2DS2ZS5yTdN8EGjLbd9burRTYAZseJFYtGpA37HBb3O86tx-bAjzJ8Q4d0WJmMVVJ5pWlld07g/s1600/photo%25283%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixxsWwKFs0SMBaWhcUw0ocDbGRj_LRzwiiywdpYGFZ-dOBmq5DfDFpiM0wmwxDjzZE2DS2ZS5yTdN8EGjLbd9burRTYAZseJFYtGpA37HBb3O86tx-bAjzJ8Q4d0WJmMVVJ5pWlld07g/s320/photo%25283%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">M loving every inch of what could be one of the greatest wide hand cracks out there!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjtWyS_1iRGbr1Loj0GbNdkxFX85SrMjOLX2lZFqkQZqj_ZUEu_aM48lEBrsdZBVi8dicVxawWcDsbT5N-ZksIJNPt98bAFsdG2wiG7_CqSRL5W-pZHsUiQNpCjkmzAj4ksBBLYAKmCw/s1600/photo%25284%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjtWyS_1iRGbr1Loj0GbNdkxFX85SrMjOLX2lZFqkQZqj_ZUEu_aM48lEBrsdZBVi8dicVxawWcDsbT5N-ZksIJNPt98bAFsdG2wiG7_CqSRL5W-pZHsUiQNpCjkmzAj4ksBBLYAKmCw/s320/photo%25284%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">M finding some motivation to try hard on the incredible Left Crack</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilRcnBj87Zdeobys71KoRZRcodPEO7CPRjnQ2pJIi6q3ZLdCGGSNtR_0hxtPsnyHCdnL8OPmnc84UabBCCaU29sZ_WLkrtog4i3PizYItKTvpyccNATeaP2lZ-FeVlT3v0738PXlk6YA/s1600/photo%25285%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilRcnBj87Zdeobys71KoRZRcodPEO7CPRjnQ2pJIi6q3ZLdCGGSNtR_0hxtPsnyHCdnL8OPmnc84UabBCCaU29sZ_WLkrtog4i3PizYItKTvpyccNATeaP2lZ-FeVlT3v0738PXlk6YA/s320/photo%25285%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The love affair with the desert continues </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</tbody></table>As fast as we arrived it was already time to leave. It doesn't even quite feel like the trip even happened. The lack of other climbers, the short duration, and the overall dreamlike lifestyle Indian Creek ushers have combined to make my fleeting memories of those days more like a dream than reality. However, in contrast to Thanksgiving spent in Indian Creek, this trip was focused on the experience and much less the climbing. With this shifted focused, I've been remembered why I love Indian Creek. Yes, the climbing is world class, and yes I am a crack junkie . . . but Indian Creek offers something else. Something totally intangible sitting just beyond the realm of civilization. I've typed and deleted sentence after sentence and none of them sticks to further express my feelings toward the creek. I would say you have to go there to understand, but I don't think that logic works either. Indian Creek is special to me on so many personal levels, I could never guarantee a similar feeling would ever capture anyone else visiting the area. However, I do recommend that every person should find this sort of place, be it connected to the vertical world or not. It's the place that saves you, motivates you, and eludes you.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE3o6dB-MGRSodebkKw10VkwaUlCMZVgTmU2nxBKNJNI-LtmamBixLbf90qI0nwF_ducVoV_Kji3sy7mvpXitVuP1Em-5dzCVtvyOjOYtnfm1jR1duv5hPbe0ViyHYecnbgIq6lvcKJQ/s1600/fixe_aliens_set.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE3o6dB-MGRSodebkKw10VkwaUlCMZVgTmU2nxBKNJNI-LtmamBixLbf90qI0nwF_ducVoV_Kji3sy7mvpXitVuP1Em-5dzCVtvyOjOYtnfm1jR1duv5hPbe0ViyHYecnbgIq6lvcKJQ/s1600/fixe_aliens_set.jpg" /></a></div> On the way home from Indian Creek for Thanksgiving we stumbled into Pegan Mountain Sports in Moab to discover the rebirth of the small cam! Finally, a climbing gear company pulled their head out of the sand, sacked up, and started making nearly identical copies of the one and only original Aliens. I've climbed with a double set of the old ones now for just over a year and could not wait for the new ones to arrive (some of the oldies but goldies were in pretty rough shape). These are pretty much the exact same cam as before. Fixe has cleaned up some the cosmetic design features, but everything else remains the same. Which is how it should be seeing as NOTHING needed to be changed on these babies. While at Pegan back in November, I purchased a blue and a green and was very excited to place them when Marge and I returned to Indian Creek. They place, function, and hold just like the old Aliens. I hope the point I'm able to stress right now is that these cams are truly the same cams they were . . . so the numerous reasons why Aliens were so popular still apply.<br />
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Pros<br />
<ul><li>Narrow heads which fit better than any other small cam in pin scars</li>
<li>Narrow heads also allow them to place well in pods </li>
<li>Flexible nature of the entire unit decreases walking </li>
<li>Flexible nature of the entire unit allows them to hold very well even when not placed in the direction of loading </li>
</ul>Cons<br />
<ul><li>$80 is a high price to pay for one cam (TOTALLY WORTH IT)</li>
<li>Hard to find (even the new ones)</li>
</ul>k-bonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175070217248048421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4959102169817127251.post-46868901340328145662011-12-06T18:19:00.000-07:002011-12-06T18:19:55.437-07:00The Prince and Princess of PlasticRegardless of my incessant even neurotic dipping for chalk, I still feel as though I've just bathed my hands in lotion. Eyes dart from the hold to hold, scrutinizing the most minute details of the plastic in hopes of revealing a secret grip style to unlock the problem. Despite the obvious frivolous facade which is gym climbing, one cannot deny the excitement, exuberance, and electricity of an indoor climbing comp. Thus, in the spirit of competition, I offer this week's post as a shameless plug for the upcoming MSU bouldering competition. I'll be back next week with another review and some thoughts on life in the vertical. However for now here's the details!<br />
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When? January 28th and 29th<br />
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Where? MSU Climbing gym, located in the Marga Hosaeus Fitness Center<br />
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Why? To raise awareness that our current climbing gym is . . . lacking . . . We'll have plans up during the comp of the proposed expansion<br />
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How? The registration fee is only $25 until December 31st, after which time it raises to $30, or $35 day of. Go to the main office in the Fitness Center to register OR click <a href="https://www.imleagues.com/School/Registration.aspx?SchID=5d7efe1a35594566a3d0c8231c1a95fd" target="_blank">here</a> to enter the intramural server which MSU uses to register intramural competitors. After clicking on the link, create a profile and look for the MSU climbing competition event. You can then register yourself for the division and heat you'd like to compete in. If you register online, payment will be due the day of the comp but you'll still get the reduced price. However, if you pay the day of the comp, you must pay with cash or check. You can pay with a card by registering early in person at the fitness center.<br />
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Hope to see you all there!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjHbzV1MIrQ8JRL0FR5SLY1W9p_UL2IYZZ-4nzvEjMpEUji7FQVRoSXwkwoMrwyWdpAjiopiVJWNiYC0hifVvLDehkysOazhffTRkHqLOFr2-N9WN3PUZKiGa1kmoPz4SnXp-l_OkX3g/s1600/FinalPPPposter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjHbzV1MIrQ8JRL0FR5SLY1W9p_UL2IYZZ-4nzvEjMpEUji7FQVRoSXwkwoMrwyWdpAjiopiVJWNiYC0hifVvLDehkysOazhffTRkHqLOFr2-N9WN3PUZKiGa1kmoPz4SnXp-l_OkX3g/s640/FinalPPPposter.jpg" width="414" /></a></div>k-bonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175070217248048421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4959102169817127251.post-5026947984088257862011-11-30T13:10:00.000-07:002011-11-30T13:10:14.761-07:00Lofty Desert Days (La Sportiva Katana)The Pinnacle of Technology, as we called her, drifted through the endless space-time continuum which is road tripping. Flakes of snow silently hurtled themselves at the windshield and accumulated on the invisible roadway beyond our high beams, as if the stars of hyperspace were falling out of solution. The interior of our interstate vessel was a jumbled mess of rushed packing. Canned food, coolers, and cams crowded the cockpit of our Creek destined container. The pungent aroma, unmistakable when one first entered our ship, had faded out of consciousness, leaving only the occasional flicker of light to remind us of its presence. The approaching Thanksgiving fueled my idle brain's imagination with a grandiose epic analogous to heartfelt tail of Columbus. However, in my fabrication, I was one of four men on board an interstellar ship destined not for The New World, but for a desert world where shear faces of Wingate Sandstone rose hundreds of feet into the air. The fantasy was broken by the approaching flashing hazard lights of a jacked knife semi-truck, just barely visible through the stars falling from solution.<br />
Seconds combined with hours which melted into minutes, all the while Pandora continuously provided the soundtrack of our adventure. Somewhere in the fray I had been asked to take the helm but declined due to my current inability to remain awake. Perfectly uncomfortable in the cargo hold, sleep gripped me instantaneously, until the sudden deceleration of the transport on final approach vector towards Moab stirred me from my dreams.<br />
We had wasted the previous day in Salt Lake City between an Indian Cafe, an Office marathon, a failed trip to the Front, and a few hours at a bar, waiting for Pat to arrive. By the third episode chronicling idiotic displays of mismanagement by Micheal Scott, it was already dark. Life in the darkened world continued without the natural pause of sleep to package the events into a "day" in ones mind. Thus, by the time our headlights shown onto the natural spring outside of Moab, I don't think any of us really knew who we were.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMq79-3EqpzGaoyPPyO46mEUfsASiFxbmHKK_0qyFhyphenhyphen55uLge5bGuz70yisHGcNSCfdtkxrjEd3BJs6X8nG2Z17pzml6CLVb_30FLom00PjjZjQt688XRM_t5Eb_G_YPfKWnHejtHU8g/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMq79-3EqpzGaoyPPyO46mEUfsASiFxbmHKK_0qyFhyphenhyphen55uLge5bGuz70yisHGcNSCfdtkxrjEd3BJs6X8nG2Z17pzml6CLVb_30FLom00PjjZjQt688XRM_t5Eb_G_YPfKWnHejtHU8g/s320/photo.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
After eternity had came and gone, morning sun illuminated the gargantuan walls of sandstone lining the road heading south from Moab. The coming day surprised and startled me, as if I believed our vessel had indeed landed on a foreign world devoid of a sun. Our southbound trajectory shifted via the magical junction to Canyonlands National Park. As we descended through layers of time, space, and environment our final elevation settled at the base of the Wingate formation. A culmination of geologic process, unknown and remarkable to my naive brain, created a continuum of laser cut vertical lines. Initially, these lines were an exciting occasional site; however as we pressed further toward the Beef Basin road the lines became common. Rounding the corner dominated by the most classic of line of lines, Supercrack, the excitement which perpetually draws me toward the vertical world returned with vengeance.<br />
A fraction of a moment later we stood in reverence at the glory which is Indian Creek. A long forgotten land far from the perpetual stress defining life. Hallow ground, dismissed as a dusty dirty deteriorating destination by the dismissive eye but delightfully defined as a diminutive piece of our planet dominating many lives. The Creek is beyond the realm of elucidation, hovering somewhere between reality and fiction. A fantasy land bounded by thousands upon thousands of adventures, more than enough for a thousand lifetimes. And, this mystic <span class="queryn" id="queryn">land would be our home for the next nine days before the Pinnacle of Technology would set a northward navigation through the endless space-time continuum which is road tripping. </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjTq3-hXE2Rj6Pj6zfHhk5GdgIKT_BYqBsbGRYyvMyd1LAP1tDv-nvOElSJOrTCPs1sfsdB1MsBAHUH093B5LsEgEYkR83KFake0wiAIp0sVnY0G8Jnuph00u8fTc0rR0hVeRLMizaYw/s1600/la_sportiva_katana_lace_MD.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjTq3-hXE2Rj6Pj6zfHhk5GdgIKT_BYqBsbGRYyvMyd1LAP1tDv-nvOElSJOrTCPs1sfsdB1MsBAHUH093B5LsEgEYkR83KFake0wiAIp0sVnY0G8Jnuph00u8fTc0rR0hVeRLMizaYw/s1600/la_sportiva_katana_lace_MD.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I was initially skeptical of this shoe. For sometime now, I've been searching for a performance oriented shoe which is somewhere between the comfort of a Moccasym and the technical abilities of the Testerosa. May I say, I've finally found it. Despite reading several reviews describing the shoe as "very narrow", I find my wide feet have no problems staying within the shoe for an extended period of time. I sized the shoe a half size larger than my bouldering shoes. Initially, I was nervous this might provide a good performance fit with no comfort. However, after wearing the shoe for several hour plus stings, I feel my sizing choice is perfect. The tongue of the shoe is super padded and very comfortable, while the laces allow one to finely tune the fit. My only complain thus far is about the Vibram soles which took a while to break in and become "sticky". I've had no problems thus far with the heel cup or the fit of the shoe around my ankle. Despite heavy use in the Creek on all sizes of cracks, they lacing system has held up very well. Additionally, there was minimal discomfort due to repeatedly shoving m foot in and out of various sized cracks. I wouldn't recommend sizing the shoe too big as to avoid eventual sloppiness. They edge like a dream and don't smear all hat bad either. Best use in my opinion . . . an all around performance oriented trad climbing shoe. I'd still rather have my Testerosas on for most sport climbing endeavors.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Pros:</div><ul><li>Comfortable fit (mostly due to the plush tongue)</li>
<li>Great edging and smearing abilities </li>
<li>Perfect middle of the road trad shoe</li>
</ul>Cons:<br />
<ul><li>Vibram sole takes a while to become "sticky" </li>
<li><span class="queryn" id="queryn">Laces may wear quickly with continued use on cracks larger than a BD 0.75 </span><span class="queryn" id="queryn"> </span></li>
</ul>k-bonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175070217248048421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4959102169817127251.post-42696582661568817782011-11-11T21:45:00.000-07:002011-11-11T21:45:00.635-07:00Ice, Ice, Baby (Black Diamond Fusions)Despite my obvious lack of excitement for ice climbing, (ok let's be honest here . . . "lack of excitement" could be translated as "I don't ever want to go ice climbing again") I went ice climbing last Sunday. The sport is beautiful, cold, captivating, and terrifying. The episodic streaks of ice which grace the cliffs of Hylatie Canyon appear invisible to even the trained eye. For among the complex fortress of crumbling rock bands contained within the canyon, a lifetime of frigid adventures wait. For the dedicated, those who continually contend to breach the fortress walls are <span class="queryn" id="queryn">remunerate</span>d with the required skills to climb any frozen summit they choose. In my case, last weekends excursion to the ice solidified one major difference between the dedicated few and myself. Those dedicated few have the mental fortitude to slam ice screws into hanging curtains, travel massive vertical distances without any protection, and scratch their tools through pure choss seeking the perfect hook. I do not share this similar capability. Regardless of how comfortable I feel climbing far about small cam, micro nuts, or no gear . . . I cannot seem to fathom how to translate this to ice climbing. Furthermore, ice climbing has always given me a vehicle to ascend large peaks somewhere else, and with no such trips on the horizon my motivations are running thin. Thank goodness we are so lucky to live in a state rich with ice climbs of moderate difficulty which can take one to some of them most impressive places Montana has to offer. Thus, I feel this will be the focus of my ice climbing season this year. I'd like to repeat Cali Ice and Leaning Tree, and expand my long route vocabulary to Ice Dragons, any one of the Cody classics, or perhaps some climbs on Barronet Peak. I better get comfy in the driver's seat of the Bronco. Thus, with ice climbing as my inspiration, I offer these words in relation to my experiences with the Black Diamond Fusion Ice Tools.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPABAXgS4ogF7UCWm4ko1Siekz9bSvjCRWBIPAn3zfMwU-Sz0T-Kpc1SoiyvASsy1HqaCta6jpT_4xCXY6O49KpdNNOwOTzFfpSKUceTmtBJmkRYqplMyokfy-bVmi8cXIkJFpnOEiIw/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPABAXgS4ogF7UCWm4ko1Siekz9bSvjCRWBIPAn3zfMwU-Sz0T-Kpc1SoiyvASsy1HqaCta6jpT_4xCXY6O49KpdNNOwOTzFfpSKUceTmtBJmkRYqplMyokfy-bVmi8cXIkJFpnOEiIw/s320/photo.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><br />
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Black Diamond did it right when they released these tools a few years ago! While they don't hold a candle to weight savings of the Cobras, they sure do perform well. I personally prefer a heavier tool, believing it swing easier when I'm pumped. (how much of this is true is up to much debate). I've climbed with tools on every grade from WI 2 - WI 5/6. However, the upper end of the grade is where they really start to shine. The extreme aggressive curvature of the tool renders nearly zero pick shift. Thus, whether your coping a rest of the lower grips, or bumped up the higher pommel making a technical move . . . it all feels the same. Enough about water ice, let talk about the terrain these tools were designed for. Mixed climbing . . . while I haven't done an extreme amount on these tools, what I have done is a dream. Again, the zero pick shift allows for technical lock offs at your waist on the smallest of edges. On extreme overhangs, go ahead and cut those feet! These tools support your whole body like a big girl lookin for some lovin' on a Friday night. As far as durability is concerned . . . these tools do great. I've dropped them, left in the sun for many days (they are now more yellow than green), and had to perform little maintenance to keep them in working order. My only complaint . . . they shatter ice compared to the Cobras.<br />
<br />
Pros: Excel on all types of ice, especially steep ice and mixed terrain. Durable as a Swiss made watch. Heavy, for easy momentum carry when your pumped. <br />
<br />
Cons: Solid heavy shaft tends to cause more ice shattering than the other similar toolsk-bonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175070217248048421noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4959102169817127251.post-52174221251392657752011-10-31T11:11:00.001-06:002011-11-02T08:08:18.206-06:00Goodbye Rock . . . Hello TravelingSo, lets start this off right with a little quick recap of the fall. August, 30th, I fell while bouldering in the MSU climbing gym resulting in a nasty ankle sprain and no climbing for nearly 3 straight weeks. In hopes of keeping the body fit while the healing, I filled my usually climbing time with numerous training sessions. To celebrate the return to the rock, a trip to Tensleep with the MSU climbing club was the order of the weekend. We spent the entire trip up at the gorgeously blue bulletproof FCR. I was able to get several more 5.12a onsights under my belt and tried my first 13a . . . Capping the trip with a finger injury off a mono on a 12d which felt miles harder than the 13? Another week or so of rest on the finger led to the most beautiful fall I've seen in Bozeman in 6 years! Perfect temps, sustained nice weather falling on all the days I had off to crush. The psyche, perfect temps, and stress of classes culminated in a redpoint rope solo of The Fugitive, a solid effort on Weapons (3 hangs isn't so bad seeing as I haven't tired it since February), and a one hang go TRing Songline on the first attempt in 3 years. However, with snow / rain predicted for the remainder of the week, I feel last weekend officially concluded rock season on Montana. While most are properly sharpening the ice tools, searching their attics for thing ice gloves, and drooling over Winter Dance; I find myself planning an itinerary of trips down the I-15 corridor toward warmer climates more suitable for rock climbing. First of these such endeavors will be over the week of Thanksgiving to where else but Zion and Indian Creek. Much is planned for this adventure, but I'll postpone the speculation until facts are facts.<br />
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I've also decided to attempt to bring some insight to this random little corner of the interweb by doing more than just spraying about how obviously badass I am. This weekend I got another core short in my rope after taking a minor fall. While searching the interweb for a new cord, I realized the lack of reputable gear reviews is astonishing. Therefore, with the motivation of providing a gear review for equipment which has undergone a proper and a reason to read my ramblings other than growing my ego . . . I'll be including a WEEKLY review of a product related to the climbing life. To start things off, lets discuss the Sterling 9.5 X 70m Nano Rope in the bright orange color.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKP2W7xI7Z46yrkzfxzGBvwcXmRAVDlizVW19NDeYcXz0NAbGEArBjnaEISDh0QCeQBHhCEuNOgwohoEii6kgwfiz0ndvoLl1iHMbA5zIq4l9L2TBnfQ-8uRdh_hlI2rJM-yf2kpS9-g/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKP2W7xI7Z46yrkzfxzGBvwcXmRAVDlizVW19NDeYcXz0NAbGEArBjnaEISDh0QCeQBHhCEuNOgwohoEii6kgwfiz0ndvoLl1iHMbA5zIq4l9L2TBnfQ-8uRdh_hlI2rJM-yf2kpS9-g/s320/photo.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">9.2 mm Sterling Nano after nearly 1 year of heavy usage</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOahKnS5NdKJsHTLcTLJ9dAefrYqxynqpOW7E9vGi07cX_LXjQPuv_teWqDgo5y6tHad0KWgpsX92JGIJSdg77KC9LLDUDRk2L4dWuWOpiwA4WaIc8T9pqYpAOKyCISsDtlT23YixdaA/s1600/photo2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOahKnS5NdKJsHTLcTLJ9dAefrYqxynqpOW7E9vGi07cX_LXjQPuv_teWqDgo5y6tHad0KWgpsX92JGIJSdg77KC9LLDUDRk2L4dWuWOpiwA4WaIc8T9pqYpAOKyCISsDtlT23YixdaA/s320/photo2.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Most recent core shot</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I first purchased this rope from Northern Lights Trading Company in late December of 2010 to use on an upcoming sport trip to Red Rocks and Bishop. Cold and snow limited the cords usage on the first trip. My initial impression was skepticism due the rope's extremely thin diameter. I distinctly remember the feeling of confusion after blindly reaching to my waist while clipping. Grabbing what felt like a rope, but could not possible be my line on account of how thin it felt. A visual downward inspection revealed indeed the thin line in my had was the sharp end! Despite the cord's thin feel, it handled like a dream! Sterling's ropes always have had a stiff feel to me, and as a result their ropes practically jump through the gate. Combine this with ease of handling such a thin line and you've got yourself a winner! Excited about the ropes potential, we made many trips to The Haunta Virus Cave last winter to attempt Weapons of Mass Destruction. This route was solidly above my limit at the time and all my attempts resulted in some form of a fall. Due to the hang dogging nature of my climbing, I found the rope began to wear extensively in the first few feet from either end. As the season and my progress on the route advanced, I began to take more actual falls onto the rope. This culminated in a sizable winger off the 4th bolt and an obvious dead spot some 15 feet from the end I was tied into. I chopped the line to just after the dead spot, eliminating 15 feet off the rope only a few months after the date of purchase. However, due to the nature of the fall's size and my extensive previous hang dogging, I wasn't yet disappointed. The next phase of usage came during the month of May while on a 3 week road trip. My partner and I used the rope on multiple long free routes either as a lead line or a tag line (See <a href="http://verticallifehorizontalworld.blogspot.com/2011_07_01_archive.html">Catch Up</a>). I was astounded by the the line's resilience during the trip despite the punishment. We did have to make a special stop in Springdale, UT near Zion to find a hot knife and chop another 10 foot section of the end of the cord due to another dead spot (notice a pattern yet?). The cord held up incredibly well on multiple 10 - 15 pitch climbs and was a dream to have at each belay due to how easily it stacked and fed. In June, I headed to The City of Rocks where the rope received another core shot over a patina flake due to a fall and another 10 feet later off the line. My now custom 62m special worked like a dream in Index, WA for cragging and a multipitch venture. Combine this with a summer's worth of cragging around Bozeman and I'm now just looking at getting a new cord. After all this abuse, the rope has recently started to show signs of ovaling and is noticeably softer than ever before. Had it not been for the multiple core shots on the ends, I'd give this rope a strong recommendation. This is the first rope I've ever core shot . . . and I've managed to achieve this destruction 4 times.<br />
<br />
It appears that the core of the rope is solid, but the sheath is what wears. This is purely assumption, but I speculate because of the tin diameter, Sterling must use a thinner sheath on their Nano's resulting in multiple core shorts. In each of the incidents, the core of the rope was intact, but the sheath appeared to have failed in the damaged area. Overall, I feel the rope's small diameter combined with the extent of usage; created a scenario in which the rope had repeated failures. However, I this in no way is a reflection of Sterling's quality. Bottom Line:<br />
<br />
Pros:<br />
<ul><li>Incredible handling</li>
<li>Very light </li>
<li>Stacks great at hanging belays </li>
<li>Durable as a mother given how skinny she is</li>
</ul>Cons:<br />
<ul><li>Easily wore near the ends </li>
<li>Received multiple core shorts due to falls and sharp edges</li>
</ul>Recommendation:<br />
<br />
If your looking for a great rope thin line for going fast and light on big routes or sending your project . . . this is the rope for you. However, expect the sheath to wear out pretty quick near the ends if your doing a lot of hang dogging or falling. Unless you can afford to update your rope every year, I'd go a bit larger in diameter. Any damage the rope sustained during my usage does not represent Sterling's construction. The damage was caused by the way in which I used the rope. In searching for a new cord, I think a Sterling 9.5 Ion might be perfect balance between light weight and durability.k-bonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175070217248048421noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4959102169817127251.post-73857638186931252572011-08-23T19:01:00.000-06:002011-08-23T19:01:22.185-06:0095 degree coldBefore I digress into the meat and potatoes of this post. I'd like to share a video with the 5 of you who read this. (BTW I've got some trivia up on the right side so feel free to make me feel like someone actually reads this and answer the dam trivia question). I made this video a while back to commemorate some great times I had up in AK with the best partner I've had!<br />
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<iframe frameborder="0" height="300" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/28079005?title=0&byline=0&%20%20amp;portrait=0" width="400"></iframe><br />
<a href="http://vimeo.com/28079005">The Mantana Expedition</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user8190380">Kevin Volkening</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.<br />
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To all others who define their occupation as "student", I wish you the best of luck at making the most of your last week of freedom. Don't take this precious time for granted, because all too soon you will re enter the world of homework, quizzes, midterms, cramming, sleep deprivation, and an all around feeling like even though you think you control your own time . . . you really don't. Some professor sitting in an office arbitrarily assigning papers, homework sets, research projects, etc is indeed the puppet master controlling nearly how you spend (or at least how you "should" spend) every waking moment of your life.<br />
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If I seem to be a bit bitter about the upcoming arrival for school, it is only because my pitiful excuse for an immune system has once again let me down . . . during the worst time it could. The last week before school. Instead of spending the dwindling hours of summer trying to cram in one more pitch, one more day at the crag, or one more guilt free hour climbing; I've been sitting in front of my computer watching people do the very things I'm describing. Dynoing, deadpointing, grunting, sending, scared, and free while I'm sniffling, sneezing, groaning, moaning, and sick.<br />
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However, being the self proclaimed optimist that I hope I am, this time of sickened retreat has caused me to do a bit of self reflection in regards to my climbing life. (I chuckle to myself when I use the word climbing life . . . Lets be honest, I don't have a life other than climbing). The result of my introspective state has turned my gaze toward the future of cooler temperatures, sendtember, and rocktober! I hope the following list of desired sends will give me something to report back on in the coming months.<br />
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<b>Local</b><br />
<ul><li><u>The Fugitive</u>: I've tried this climb more this summer than any other. As of last week I was able to two hang her. My most coveted send and the top of my list! Amazing climbing with super crimptastic cruxes . . . this guy would be a 5 star pitch anywhere! </li>
</ul><ul><li> <u>Stranger Than Fiction</u>: Began working this lovely short route last fall and have watched it go from an udder struggle to several one hangs. A great powerful line featuring a gnarly slap to an undercling! Try me try me!</li>
</ul><ul><li><u>Irukandji Syndrome</u>: Again, a carry over project from this spring (or winter). Again, another one hang wonder. Hopefully the Boulder River drops a bit in the next few weeks and I can actually get to the base for the first attempt of the summer. Who says Montana doesn't have beautiful limestone? Incredible rock, incredible climbing, don't let the grade deter you from getting on this one, she's a beaut! </li>
</ul><ul><li> <u>Weapons of Mass Destruction</u>: Got heartbreaking close to sending last winter before I pitched off attempting to make the 5th clip. Thanks to my now wonderful wife, she caught me just shy of the first bolt. This guy will have to wait however until the depths of winter due to the fact that I think there's more friction on a granite counter top than on this climb. Close your eyes and do these moves on some slightly more aesthetic rock and you've got a great climb! </li>
</ul><ul><li><u>Songline</u>: Had the wonderful opportunity to top rope this gem of route during the summer of 2009. Haven't been back since, but at the time I was able to complete all but one move. I hope this one falls quick as I'm not super keen on the hike up there! Perched high above all other in the canyon on some incredible stone. Setting up the TR is more dangerous than sacking up and leading it . . . so SACK UP!</li>
</ul><ul><li><u>Stigmata</u>: The local list's wild card. Walked by her a million times, but I've never been on her. In my opinion, this is the most beautiful line in the canyon. </li>
</ul><ul><li><u>If Peterbuilts Could Prance</u>: Very excited about the potential of this line. I've taken several top rope laps and have the moves pretty well dialed. Think the lead attempt is going to be my next go! The safety rating only applies to the easier climbing above the bolts . . . if you can pull the moves down low than you better be able to pull moves up high. </li>
</ul><b>Some Travel Required </b><br />
<ul><li><b> Tensleep, WY</b></li>
<ul><li><b> </b>I don't want to offend any of the pocket pulling junkies out there . . . but this place just isn't my style. However, looks like climbing club is going to want to make a trip down there this fall. (I'll try to give everyone a fair warning of when this is happening . . .) Think this trip will feature a lot of attempts to onsight some rad pocketed stone!</li>
</ul><li><b>Zion, UT</b></li>
<ul><li>If anyone actually reads this . . . tell Marge she needs to get the weekend off to head down there with me! My big goal for this area is getting my beloved on her first mini-big wall!</li>
<li><u>Moonlight Buttress . . . Free</u>: Mr. Dyess will be returning to the west for Thanksgiving and has planted another crazy idea similar to the B-Y in my head. But hey, at least this one is just C1 if you fall. <b> </b> </li>
</ul><li><b>Indian Creek, UT</b></li>
<ul><li>So just in case anyone was wondering, Thanksgiving is in 84 days and thus that means the creek is in 84 days! </li>
<ul><li><u>Fingers in a Light Socket</u><b> </b></li>
<li><u>Sweeden Ringle </u></li>
<li><u>Big Baby</u></li>
<li><u>Quarter of a Man</u></li>
<li><u>Big Guy</u><b> </b></li>
<li><u>Pente</u></li>
<li><u>9 Lives</u></li>
<li><u>Puma</u></li>
<li><u>Kool Cat</u></li>
<li><u>Mad Dog</u></li>
<li><u>Bad Cat</u></li>
<li><u>Johnny Cat</u><b> </b> </li>
</ul></ul></ul>k-bonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175070217248048421noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4959102169817127251.post-83416113975475878622011-08-17T00:42:00.001-06:002011-08-18T12:17:22.139-06:00Married ManI GOT MARRIED! So, now that life's had a chance to settle after the big day, I'm finally getting back to what I promised in my last post. A more detailed account of this summer's adventures.<br />
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My last post more or less described the events and experiences of the summer's first road trip. In case you missed it a quick recap can be found in the following photos. Enjoy . . .<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYFQ2kqybwfgEsXekip2vakK4Ya0plDusRM9AuMwdumerXmGTgn_fTvsYWgMxUvzwfI2qphyooZzuFrdT02I8L8CWgA4Qbd20ozbYqG5BBIFZaeTJ92i2yg7N7B2FR2fyWxqoKMHryDQ/s1600/IMG_0121.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYFQ2kqybwfgEsXekip2vakK4Ya0plDusRM9AuMwdumerXmGTgn_fTvsYWgMxUvzwfI2qphyooZzuFrdT02I8L8CWgA4Qbd20ozbYqG5BBIFZaeTJ92i2yg7N7B2FR2fyWxqoKMHryDQ/s320/IMG_0121.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">One night spent at a rest stop, one busted tire, and nearly 30 hours of driving finally reviles the first road sign stating "Yosemite"</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjo67HmDDlywJOGtmowleKMxi9MiiaBKxuHTN38rEZbPqA8rVsYllOhpe1ukT2-XbCIjFpVo1IuOqONo8I67hsief9Ep5Z46Mk_7PpxR_qzBOUboAWgCzeQ1-K7nh7QQgKaSp5zfQaUw/s1600/IMG_0125.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjo67HmDDlywJOGtmowleKMxi9MiiaBKxuHTN38rEZbPqA8rVsYllOhpe1ukT2-XbCIjFpVo1IuOqONo8I67hsief9Ep5Z46Mk_7PpxR_qzBOUboAWgCzeQ1-K7nh7QQgKaSp5zfQaUw/s320/IMG_0125.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> A sleepy Captain</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji6P4n0cbEKsKKCveSNb3SvrFsKoLeyhb4wQ9YBo_h0HkuYSnskHpr_XnhoosxJTxtVNhYPf68EANCFxHsqH0cmXK0ozNp7PNPVO-VOJBxrcSdErghfBQV0A-gZXpk9ut58ywgv1qTUA/s1600/IMG_0133.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji6P4n0cbEKsKKCveSNb3SvrFsKoLeyhb4wQ9YBo_h0HkuYSnskHpr_XnhoosxJTxtVNhYPf68EANCFxHsqH0cmXK0ozNp7PNPVO-VOJBxrcSdErghfBQV0A-gZXpk9ut58ywgv1qTUA/s320/IMG_0133.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The Bronco made it! Washington Column dominates the skyline</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTeVcVoc9jx7STeoJYhplm-vkTfYPYIiVoAuEDz8oZNoExylo1DQSLT_UtO35umCy5JQbWhWeBZx7-gmR7opXp4qA4uwrsfZWlImwlWlP4fVZcRN1GeYPB0QrTOPkAXjYpBs20BGWmGA/s1600/IMG_0136.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTeVcVoc9jx7STeoJYhplm-vkTfYPYIiVoAuEDz8oZNoExylo1DQSLT_UtO35umCy5JQbWhWeBZx7-gmR7opXp4qA4uwrsfZWlImwlWlP4fVZcRN1GeYPB0QrTOPkAXjYpBs20BGWmGA/s320/IMG_0136.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Tate on one of the final pitches of "The Prow"</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAR6rYAzK1z3WLzGXcE8Hoj-LdldVkjYjWQHDR5emulLThZ-Lyl7SVUmL3VEphoLIQYTK7_GZtsERzReZvYhBc7Jw709CMExACCYwJqNCrxEEcI5P6cEP75j_kZgPwT2GZ4aKWbuNsyQ/s1600/IMG_0137.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAR6rYAzK1z3WLzGXcE8Hoj-LdldVkjYjWQHDR5emulLThZ-Lyl7SVUmL3VEphoLIQYTK7_GZtsERzReZvYhBc7Jw709CMExACCYwJqNCrxEEcI5P6cEP75j_kZgPwT2GZ4aKWbuNsyQ/s320/IMG_0137.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The view on the third morning looking toward our starting point</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAyV0PrQNXD-5y7QHVY89ulvSQVrRmyzP0aw0wfrdHzlD69tLviyvCGd-iSjN8yAmM-Azc5A8g32qDC8Lz6-i_H0pUvrugEAG4OUgO1HHLRi00ouY1mRiNEFtjcH4Tn1Ipr6lpLUwg0w/s1600/IMG_0139.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAyV0PrQNXD-5y7QHVY89ulvSQVrRmyzP0aw0wfrdHzlD69tLviyvCGd-iSjN8yAmM-Azc5A8g32qDC8Lz6-i_H0pUvrugEAG4OUgO1HHLRi00ouY1mRiNEFtjcH4Tn1Ipr6lpLUwg0w/s320/IMG_0139.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">The final rays of the day striking Half Dome's North Face</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZeBAL79eibU1FZyCN-S-DOJUhsFvInBhorhQgGkeyuUhoUdQlhh-3A0Z2Bjrv8hOxepxjdceqwhjTzw48zaM4lwLqLWbaULzjy3jwPBeGYCJuP1lkwEIpVV30yX4jiX-z3zS9CZephQ/s1600/IMG_0151.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZeBAL79eibU1FZyCN-S-DOJUhsFvInBhorhQgGkeyuUhoUdQlhh-3A0Z2Bjrv8hOxepxjdceqwhjTzw48zaM4lwLqLWbaULzjy3jwPBeGYCJuP1lkwEIpVV30yX4jiX-z3zS9CZephQ/s320/IMG_0151.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Zion and the Streaked Wall . . . lifetime climbing goal</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZCEk1MeUFxjfKlAKIiyh-8-tU8oP41US09QXFxmDkFvanJydMpWMYH8CI089RMzfC4n0h6vZgiKpbr9spHorpLcGki0guns8FvkaN_47RuXNf65w8nKLCQILbNgN6677-3WlfU5yr2A/s1600/IMG_0162.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZCEk1MeUFxjfKlAKIiyh-8-tU8oP41US09QXFxmDkFvanJydMpWMYH8CI089RMzfC4n0h6vZgiKpbr9spHorpLcGki0guns8FvkaN_47RuXNf65w8nKLCQILbNgN6677-3WlfU5yr2A/s320/IMG_0162.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The beautiful sport climbs of Kolob Canyon, Zion National Park, UT</div><div style="text-align: center;">Thanks Conrad!</div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><br />
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Since the "big" trip I'd been focusing primarily on getting ready to be married . . . however, I did manage to sneak out for a generous handful of adventures. These included many trips into Gallatin Canyon to work The Fugitive. One notable trip was with a good buddy, Lawrence, who nearly sent in one of the most fluid styles I've seen anywhere.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHaB4KW_lmWDlEv88uqlWkbF_K3QshYcSoUSUISQQ9Ohkdcxtx9zMGIHiOJh8HK-YqcoG9A0z58QAS_U1APQAEu5TN9ZYNhCIG-AEAu0zx26dx1i64rBRg2fEZ1NwFhO5ozSSNZVb6Kw/s1600/P6261444.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHaB4KW_lmWDlEv88uqlWkbF_K3QshYcSoUSUISQQ9Ohkdcxtx9zMGIHiOJh8HK-YqcoG9A0z58QAS_U1APQAEu5TN9ZYNhCIG-AEAu0zx26dx1i64rBRg2fEZ1NwFhO5ozSSNZVb6Kw/s320/P6261444.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFIECCvi1t4aBHruNDCvnUNax5Mm0xXeD38MjgI_fPq6f6dNSQs3ypQtI2Nf3G94A16raxJ6CEWMtJmbvaeXKXAYbiIwQ7957gPqf0KzuPNd8vBtnS5I6bR-cTQjprgWhOaTLwhdoJFg/s1600/P6261454.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFIECCvi1t4aBHruNDCvnUNax5Mm0xXeD38MjgI_fPq6f6dNSQs3ypQtI2Nf3G94A16raxJ6CEWMtJmbvaeXKXAYbiIwQ7957gPqf0KzuPNd8vBtnS5I6bR-cTQjprgWhOaTLwhdoJFg/s320/P6261454.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyF1j7K2ICLnpp4DPJNUEhB6WU2u_2d-4hvgAoymsnmvhXDbVpXbVqHSjr-gYGG8vZVoOKej6ldynYEJa6U_0cdGoNHHDr55m5tYa_aVhQRjz6SlJV0VERdwIZ2PnuKtPnypwTyfsjYA/s1600/P6261456.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyF1j7K2ICLnpp4DPJNUEhB6WU2u_2d-4hvgAoymsnmvhXDbVpXbVqHSjr-gYGG8vZVoOKej6ldynYEJa6U_0cdGoNHHDr55m5tYa_aVhQRjz6SlJV0VERdwIZ2PnuKtPnypwTyfsjYA/s320/P6261456.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">He heartbreakingly fell only a few feet higher after waling both cruxes . . . next time buddy!</div><br />
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The Sunlight Basin Region near the Clarks Fork of the Yellowstone got a new two pitch route when my partner in crime Loren (see his blog <a href="http://yerbaman.blogspot.com/2011/08/bugaboos.html">http://yerbaman.blogspot.com/2011/08/bugaboos.html</a>) and I headed that direction for some summer fun. We were returning for a second go at an established line called Salsa Verde which we had epically failed on weeks earlier. However, with a Bozeman alpine start and a bit of intimidation from the weather forecast we found ourselves staring at a nice looking unclimed crack system in a nearby drainage. The route can be easily accessed from above from the Sunlight Creek Bridge parking area. The climb is on the upstream side of the bridge. If anyone is interested in the lines exact location give me a shout . . . it awaits a second ascent!<br />
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After nearly two hours of hanging, scrubbing, and anchor equipment we finally were able to climb two pitches of wide cracks separated by a dirty but comfortable ledge. Loren had taken the cleaning duties on the first pitch and thus sent his with no problem. This pitch offered extremely varied climbing with skills required from almost every page in the book. I took the lead on the second pitch rewarding our efforts with a long sustained slightly overhanging hand a fist crack.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi95b1CbVx63m2CRog2LiVxMO_2H-doJ6artb4X2Kezc8BgstaVBEv22kNzKP3F7HFjYMmQeOk03xLH28yzl8w4I9q7RdiWH_4G6KS4hPSpxWE4oo7FlA9sc6qWi9PK5GXpS4MPjnyxpg/s1600/P7071512.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi95b1CbVx63m2CRog2LiVxMO_2H-doJ6artb4X2Kezc8BgstaVBEv22kNzKP3F7HFjYMmQeOk03xLH28yzl8w4I9q7RdiWH_4G6KS4hPSpxWE4oo7FlA9sc6qWi9PK5GXpS4MPjnyxpg/s320/P7071512.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Looking at Cameltoe from across the river. Dotted line indicates location of first pitch is obscured by the large tree. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFG2je542jT8OEvhJTk6PCcu-Rg39ZdogVqE3BFwebmK7kraac4wm6RVTcPYNpjlOzeeglcbwwTx-q9TQZdKT66TkgIUvRnZ5iswbmMidK0rBN98FHyWP8wmW2C3hnyWNIpm6borlP5g/s1600/sunglight+basin+bridge.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFG2je542jT8OEvhJTk6PCcu-Rg39ZdogVqE3BFwebmK7kraac4wm6RVTcPYNpjlOzeeglcbwwTx-q9TQZdKT66TkgIUvRnZ5iswbmMidK0rBN98FHyWP8wmW2C3hnyWNIpm6borlP5g/s320/sunglight+basin+bridge.jpeg" width="248" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Route topo </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPdcd6aQN8NyzFLBl-y2lq4pMNvEshXI7ucq0ebi4DVqyLKsSh99LRzKc0spmmt3n80O7sf7v0Ig2sueXLluoyw6lye5cE_TUR6wkEBH32Edr2OH99NhUobYEj_XTrT-1QdY3FuuZwVw/s1600/P7071473.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPdcd6aQN8NyzFLBl-y2lq4pMNvEshXI7ucq0ebi4DVqyLKsSh99LRzKc0spmmt3n80O7sf7v0Ig2sueXLluoyw6lye5cE_TUR6wkEBH32Edr2OH99NhUobYEj_XTrT-1QdY3FuuZwVw/s320/P7071473.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Loren beginning to rappel over the first pitch for the route</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJUrpAcKFkhdfMMQqDJIWB4lGpuXL2OWFNo9u4HHk3E_SM7Rr0JDhltENlHfx9i6XtqBgVki6DZee7bt_R3BPOCaEFzYr0wIVSsDLz50Vp0wYkfPd0PGsL4VK5vnlF1XD7-PGLT7mdIw/s1600/P7071477.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJUrpAcKFkhdfMMQqDJIWB4lGpuXL2OWFNo9u4HHk3E_SM7Rr0JDhltENlHfx9i6XtqBgVki6DZee7bt_R3BPOCaEFzYr0wIVSsDLz50Vp0wYkfPd0PGsL4VK5vnlF1XD7-PGLT7mdIw/s320/P7071477.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Loren sending the offwidth crux pod near the bottom of the first pitch</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA8IdG38Ql6uA-V5Z4P_bUYaKx3uFOWfDmzXR_WjHgLN4Pa0kxXGd36RydsUZpa5Ay2bL5MLKsfbyHnvJkF6bHXGR2GPnpAbPQp1QT2rCnvMj8XkWQxiM91TAfFBf2azq0H0NroD9q1g/s1600/P7071498.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA8IdG38Ql6uA-V5Z4P_bUYaKx3uFOWfDmzXR_WjHgLN4Pa0kxXGd36RydsUZpa5Ay2bL5MLKsfbyHnvJkF6bHXGR2GPnpAbPQp1QT2rCnvMj8XkWQxiM91TAfFBf2azq0H0NroD9q1g/s320/P7071498.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Myself high on the second pitch</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpZdcMeHIzvd6ouPZ_u-r1MstajluNapiHt_BAEs-R1e7_9bJHay4y9Pm5qftZw4OzB9nIUSDvE9Lya4eaJUjH-sP_Y5qHYTiKW9TP7G5nFYNv3zPwVelS9lx2QT6al3xm93Spjrbpjw/s1600/P7071509.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpZdcMeHIzvd6ouPZ_u-r1MstajluNapiHt_BAEs-R1e7_9bJHay4y9Pm5qftZw4OzB9nIUSDvE9Lya4eaJUjH-sP_Y5qHYTiKW9TP7G5nFYNv3zPwVelS9lx2QT6al3xm93Spjrbpjw/s320/P7071509.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The condition of the jug line after inspection upon completing the route. Watch your ropes!</div><br />
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Finally, if all this wasn't enough to satisfy the endless need to climb one more pitch, my wonderful fiance turned her head one last time as I sneaked off to Index, WA with two of my best friends for several days. We had originally planned a small expedition into the Cirque of the Towers, WY. The record setting snow pack had other ideas, and 4 feet of snow at he trail head blocked our entry. Thus, we shifted gears and headed toward a new area for all us. Index, WA home of rain, drizzle, vagrants, mist, meth addicts, some more rain, incredible rock which is usually wet from the rain, trains, a little more rain, rocket dogs, Ricco's Pizza, and the Koren BBQ . . . Despite the weather's refusal to cooperate, we were still able to get in multiple pitches each day as well as one longer route. Check out obviously lower town wall if your there, but don't miss Japanese Gardens, Godzilla, Sagittarius, Iron Horse, and Thin Slice. If your up at the Upper Town Wall make sure to walk to your left and get on Dana's Arch! Also, the local Korean-American couple who runs the general store serves up an incredible deal on their home made Korean BBQ. $4 for more food than you can eat, plus if your really nice it might even come with a free corndog! If camping in the area long term, the large pullout with the "Honey Bucket" has great riverside camping. Any of the sites up the road from the said area are on private property. The local sheriff was patrolling the area while we were there and removing trespassers. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5r5Hs-7rHFxL56Qf094-jSCMQO46pqXJRiuOoq0hji01wYg-eHRVLn7emLEE8uoFfNtyvE5oFAOCKajJFIT4XtnQABcfI5TKeAif_FmGECi9znTuIEu1E51WbZ88cKg-5P6Grca2UcQ/s1600/P7181576.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5r5Hs-7rHFxL56Qf094-jSCMQO46pqXJRiuOoq0hji01wYg-eHRVLn7emLEE8uoFfNtyvE5oFAOCKajJFIT4XtnQABcfI5TKeAif_FmGECi9znTuIEu1E51WbZ88cKg-5P6Grca2UcQ/s320/P7181576.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Top Rope tough guying it on Dana's Arch (5.11)</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxYgQp37RKKF4USasPEfpcrADVvfjkZ6NY6ewVdv2rxc57s8lkJtAb3-kIWXTEQJab-f11xgNXGUd3faVKuPlEi8GJx6oeR59SDKkzo0_yrwHfkpHcsbIckXuscItsBO-D_lHzlU4hYg/s1600/IMG_0214.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxYgQp37RKKF4USasPEfpcrADVvfjkZ6NY6ewVdv2rxc57s8lkJtAb3-kIWXTEQJab-f11xgNXGUd3faVKuPlEi8GJx6oeR59SDKkzo0_yrwHfkpHcsbIckXuscItsBO-D_lHzlU4hYg/s320/IMG_0214.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> B-Rad on Steel Monkey, this pitch stays dry even while it is actively raining (5.12) </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkPrQM2zv1oIqqxX4EF-yMFY3LudKaCwr8_8BWla86RiBCGld-WQgx1wUUP1ErlXiD7iFj1g6XmiSbsAQrKONPg-Qotpn3I3lhqxAZDqHqh0i_Y5oChCWBWs89peIMV0p4MJz9H2o5cg/s1600/P7181527.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkPrQM2zv1oIqqxX4EF-yMFY3LudKaCwr8_8BWla86RiBCGld-WQgx1wUUP1ErlXiD7iFj1g6XmiSbsAQrKONPg-Qotpn3I3lhqxAZDqHqh0i_Y5oChCWBWs89peIMV0p4MJz9H2o5cg/s320/P7181527.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Todd making some tech nasty moves off the belay on Davis-Holland to Lovin' Arms (5.11 a/b)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1K7EjS4XYQB85VCXT_tn0w7FOrRz2bQJmCKXW_sBrbIakarr7RHwaGT76lpPZGmXIuPstfG4E_yeDy8Eeur9VstClnfQBxFDmabzrN-EC4wHVPYzOhGKwCUlh47IvRp10hOAnkojYnA/s1600/P7181529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1K7EjS4XYQB85VCXT_tn0w7FOrRz2bQJmCKXW_sBrbIakarr7RHwaGT76lpPZGmXIuPstfG4E_yeDy8Eeur9VstClnfQBxFDmabzrN-EC4wHVPYzOhGKwCUlh47IvRp10hOAnkojYnA/s320/P7181529.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Myself venturing into the crux on Davis-Holland to Lovin' Arms</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiksf3EFFzpblhazsfxFKfEB5E19uveEE4gBygXi01bH9pP1cUXteAkp1Q8UCvSNd6p2H0p4lKsjR3FamffnatwoHWE-r-sRSfWaVlnDWgm3k148yImz7vXsqOdOwacZL75LsAHo_4apg/s1600/P7181523.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiksf3EFFzpblhazsfxFKfEB5E19uveEE4gBygXi01bH9pP1cUXteAkp1Q8UCvSNd6p2H0p4lKsjR3FamffnatwoHWE-r-sRSfWaVlnDWgm3k148yImz7vXsqOdOwacZL75LsAHo_4apg/s320/P7181523.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> The sleepy town of Index</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimw3I4KcuudMeUry0UA72XmeNv1AwqntIOVc3oMCal5I0ebLts2cQXivXp56MC4d8-1X06Gy_KsZ779y9KZQU1kyGn5KA0aa3c9ixazMHp8yB7uKp0TrI1V2d451sdMjfFrSlhqImwQg/s1600/P7181550.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimw3I4KcuudMeUry0UA72XmeNv1AwqntIOVc3oMCal5I0ebLts2cQXivXp56MC4d8-1X06Gy_KsZ779y9KZQU1kyGn5KA0aa3c9ixazMHp8yB7uKp0TrI1V2d451sdMjfFrSlhqImwQg/s320/P7181550.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> B-Rad finishing the crux pitch of DH-LA</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNXWhZKyYOpuokgLuFjhoAA-aKD-KgcLd1iRjM4zQUuXiElG9CeHtdpqkNA8lvBkaX1hd9UUMAGA3FDqenUYIJ4vvH88ZH_7uBBp2YfeNUXSQXNq7BsXckkI8QyGAeIjip3MhjRnBv5Q/s1600/P7181570.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNXWhZKyYOpuokgLuFjhoAA-aKD-KgcLd1iRjM4zQUuXiElG9CeHtdpqkNA8lvBkaX1hd9UUMAGA3FDqenUYIJ4vvH88ZH_7uBBp2YfeNUXSQXNq7BsXckkI8QyGAeIjip3MhjRnBv5Q/s320/P7181570.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Greg making quick work of the final pith of DH-LA</div><br />
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Finally, the day of the wedding came and passed with ever so much joy! Thank you from the bottom of our hearts to everyone who attended, helped, hung lights, put on the catering, played the music, laughed, cried, drank! It was a blast . . . to all of you who are considering it. If she's the right one for ya' then there shouldn't be ANYTHING holding you back. Sadly, I don't have any pictures to share due the the current format of the one's we have in our possession. However, facebook is a plentiful source as well as our photographer's <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/boxedwino/">Flikr</a> account. <br />
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<div style="text-align: left;">Last but not least, Marge and I went on a splendid "mini-moon" to the great state of Wyoming, visiting two of the regions premier climbing destinations. Cody and Tensleep . . . We spent our first day lounging around the Antelope Boulder with Marge coming extremely close to sending the Tuk while I got heartbreakingly close to Meat Hooks. However, the day was not all disappointment. The landing to Sir Hugeness has recently been Mworked and is much more attemptable. Sent after a few goes. We then went up to the Sheep Camp area and did more looking the climbing. The following day we spent most of our time exploring the Maze area with considerable time working on a really neat "V3" on the Heuco Simulator boulder.</div><br />
Off to the land of buttery sickness . . . and into a style of climbing far from anything I've done before! I just keep telling myself Tensleep is a lot like calculus, just because it doesn't come easy doesn't mean you have to hate it. We were able to get on a few of the classics with my personal highlight being spending some quality relaxation time with my beautiful new bride.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtzZcaBm-xlBxLv-2UEFG8OPkzaACINYHOczzjC9iQ8f4nBH-6SDlViA4HoRpY3aeHm0bwQ27JGSSTqZK2bXUjC6oHyGRpT1qNshvjpZMW3ymXeGV1SNM7DgWB-tfDjmQWdQnlCnw3NQ/s320/IMG_0238.JPG" width="239" /> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Marge on "The Tuk", V3 </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Yj7EqdYpsbGCju0kEN26I7JonSpyJuvxIgS9AqJkYp-em6ISSd0T7M2nUQ4CQEvgcY-Gc7C8_YVJa55SK_g2JpSIPNlYwR9Q1n-C22vs7XHeM6aqphFywIWrg0aCcj1xBKmAVs3-Ig/s320/IMG_0241.JPG" width="239" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Mexi-Margs!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPwkKPy9Ew8jbSdCfmkjayqOrRhmdE05CMUfMY5nFpPEz3OEqlSqbB8zXqZwYOd5bSl-I3HH47bGj2s7c7-JYJ5uMRJueIqEmUaQ3uTrnNGuEexVZ9AHRch-hegSnGn5hM04iaHdybkA/s1600/IMG_0243.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPwkKPy9Ew8jbSdCfmkjayqOrRhmdE05CMUfMY5nFpPEz3OEqlSqbB8zXqZwYOd5bSl-I3HH47bGj2s7c7-JYJ5uMRJueIqEmUaQ3uTrnNGuEexVZ9AHRch-hegSnGn5hM04iaHdybkA/s320/IMG_0243.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Cody night rodeo</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9VHYb8K8maWoRHfGgV1ZIgUpPA5xPjNTjRy3Ue8NUjlK7D077SjEA2D_plwAU1Dq-xQxMRPRyQdNfy_Ac_uo9MPzIVGqSa033dSNa1iuJkuUD_triARZA5One3DrV71of5SH1Q-EOuw/s1600/P8041585.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9VHYb8K8maWoRHfGgV1ZIgUpPA5xPjNTjRy3Ue8NUjlK7D077SjEA2D_plwAU1Dq-xQxMRPRyQdNfy_Ac_uo9MPzIVGqSa033dSNa1iuJkuUD_triARZA5One3DrV71of5SH1Q-EOuw/s320/P8041585.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Marge on a The Watchtower, a V2 arete on the Fort Boulder</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQPGWHXaaSAvx-kl0sMHhvX2CDdXZnVUSY650V1_rMbchJDaM1RqSbgXUgxG1On-XoDDuacqgbBKO_HjfIZ-GMyk8ihroPhkIKutkzIodw1fKuosRf6xGNV5sdPZKDVvStaioI9aAtxw/s1600/P8041593.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQPGWHXaaSAvx-kl0sMHhvX2CDdXZnVUSY650V1_rMbchJDaM1RqSbgXUgxG1On-XoDDuacqgbBKO_HjfIZ-GMyk8ihroPhkIKutkzIodw1fKuosRf6xGNV5sdPZKDVvStaioI9aAtxw/s320/P8041593.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Great sloper problem, Friender Bender, on the Rhombus Boulder (V3) </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX0aooNAtlYMC3pQRahO2JytKQsFBd_SyBMQjLFQNSzV127KjDlEjjjeCHsS8H-whHdEBty1HWpq_vLdHOdHE2l12ZbXaPYnzVxVcPHBA7kdqqibYeeulqsxAObMgh9Xdbj_39e6wWQw/s1600/P8051597.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX0aooNAtlYMC3pQRahO2JytKQsFBd_SyBMQjLFQNSzV127KjDlEjjjeCHsS8H-whHdEBty1HWpq_vLdHOdHE2l12ZbXaPYnzVxVcPHBA7kdqqibYeeulqsxAObMgh9Xdbj_39e6wWQw/s320/P8051597.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Marge Crucifying the Serpent on the Serpent Boulder, (V1)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGDT0uPHnMh-Wnzz34L9s1sziRbKbU_nF3iydFTh29pKSXkNZgj5XTPWhcPWzzWEFt2_-PiAwWxDn8lJkOXRaeyrw3yTxV9SQI7nB2GA2Qb9GPROtSqVxtqL8upgxFVzjEMrR7mqoWcw/s1600/P8051599.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGDT0uPHnMh-Wnzz34L9s1sziRbKbU_nF3iydFTh29pKSXkNZgj5XTPWhcPWzzWEFt2_-PiAwWxDn8lJkOXRaeyrw3yTxV9SQI7nB2GA2Qb9GPROtSqVxtqL8upgxFVzjEMrR7mqoWcw/s320/P8051599.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">"That was really only V2?" While Lhotse stares at ants in the background</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqR6QFmGKgP2vsh_fqNbkIXZLcdJ32XseS5I4ZvOLfaZhqJdx2N6F0YWx6w6JAi8s-drNi5gJEOJQEWmozrp0HKUN8EMcYiXGSpJ4blcJ154TwDd_-PeCI3Gaw4M8f-r9jzA5_Ags59g/s1600/P8071615.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqR6QFmGKgP2vsh_fqNbkIXZLcdJ32XseS5I4ZvOLfaZhqJdx2N6F0YWx6w6JAi8s-drNi5gJEOJQEWmozrp0HKUN8EMcYiXGSpJ4blcJ154TwDd_-PeCI3Gaw4M8f-r9jzA5_Ags59g/s320/P8071615.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">"Dad, look I can hit myself in the head with a stick"</div><br />
Cheers!<br />
<span id="goog_1895835531"></span><span id="goog_1895835532"></span>k-bonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175070217248048421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4959102169817127251.post-15514386295305594322011-07-20T00:36:00.000-06:002011-07-20T00:36:43.796-06:00Catch-UpLong time no blogging friends. I've been up to a lot, buts let's be honest here I just plain old got lazy. The "yosemite trip" ended up being tour de west's climbing areas with stops in yosemite, J-tree, red rocks, and Zion with lots of bad weather to keep things interesting. <br />
In yosemite we found much more inclement weather than anticipated. With our trip goals being center around trips up the captain (which periodically was snow free) we quickly realized shift our destination of choice might be the best course of action. However, we didn't leave empty handed. A 3 day epic on Washington Column's Prow made for good post epic comic relief. An endless sea of beautiful granite punctuated by stunning features, two nights, one broken wall hauler, and the only weather window in two weeks all combined to create a highly recommendable experience to anyone getting into some more serious aid. <br />
With low hearts but open minds we turned our back on our dreams of nights on the captain and headed to the climbing area in the western US which wasn't either wet or buried in snow, J-tree. Warm weather and unimaginable scenery returned the psych and we soldiered on. High points were some crazy slab arête route and the major dihedral course and buggy. <br />
However, the call on the adventure and the need for air below our feet, Tate and I set off the lofty towers of Red Rocks. A wet day of sport climbing lead to better weather and the ambition to get our muscles woopt. A successful almost free ascent of Cloud Tower gave some real feeling of accomplishment to the trip. The crux is not bad and is very much all there. Get psyched and go do this route. If you've been to the creek the final pith is 5.10 and the off width has face holds on the outside of it! <br />
Alas, our search continued for an area which might just might rival the valley. Who were we kidding though...there's no where like the valley. But we did find a pretty good second place contender, Zion. The nearly creek quality cracks which run for miles captured our imaginations and our fingers. We decided to up the ante by attempting the ultra classic Monkey Finger. The first crux pitch worked me and resulted in some french free action. Up next, Tate decided to hang it out there with a 40 footer and a black alien sitting in his lap. The next hand pitches were amazing but the splitter monkey finger crack was just a little too real for us. We attempted the final two pitches of choss but decided to bail after I took a bouncing digger down a chimney. We licked our wounds and got on a newer line called George the Animal Steel. Dirty but fun climbing on great rock should clean up well to become an area classic. We then headed over to the Kolob canyons for some radical sport climbing on one of the most beautiful pieces of rock I've seen in a long time. We had enought of that softy clipping bolts shit and returned to plugging gear by trying touchstone at 5.11 C2. Mother nature had other ideas and after two pitches we bailed in a downpour. We decided we had one last shot at climbing something incredible. Incredible we did indeed find. Shunes Buttress maybe the best route ice ever done. Perfect stone top to bottom with extremely varied climbing in spectacular setting make for a 10 star route. Go Climb This! <br />
More updates to come! Get psyched and get out there! Photos pending a computer...k-bonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175070217248048421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4959102169817127251.post-31370000441971433352011-04-06T15:29:00.000-06:002011-04-06T15:29:41.966-06:00A Change of Pace To those of you who know me (which in reality are probably the only ones who would are reading this), I typically depart for the frozen lands of the north each spring. My purpose is typically mixed between conducting glaciological research for the University of Maine, University of New Hampshire, and Dartmouth College & extending my alpine season in the most incredible alpine destination in North America if not the world. However, as American political scene changes and science focused on understanding global climate change is quickly blacklisted from the federal budget, the project I typically work was scaled back this year (thank you Tea Party). This post was supposed to reflect my enthusiasm to return to the Kahiltna Glacier, but it has now changed into something quite different. As you may or may not remember I initially began this blog (I really hate that world), to help motivate myself to prepare for the Bachar-Yerin route this fall. So, I figured if I'm not headed to Alaska why not focus (and write) on spawn of these ramblings. Thus, with growing excitement, I am planning an extended trip the the Yosemite Valley in Californ IA!<br />
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<u>The Plan:</u><br />
<u> </u><br />
<ul><li>May 9th: Depart Bozeman with trusty partner in crime Mr. Tate "Check Your Safety" Shepard </li>
<li>May 11th: Warm up wall: "The Prow" on Washington Column </li>
<li>May 14th: The Business: "The Nose" on El Capitan referred to as possibly the greatest rock climb on Earth </li>
<li> May 19th: The Business Continues: "Salathe" on El Capitan referred to as the greatest climb on Earth second only to "The Nose"</li>
<li>May 24th: Play Time: Free climb as many classics as possible. Ideas as of now are: </li>
<ul><li>Serenity Cracks into Sons of Yesterday </li>
<li>El Cap Buttress</li>
<li>Royal Arches into Crest Jewel </li>
<li>Snake Dike </li>
<li>Something on Cathedral </li>
</ul></ul>k-bonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175070217248048421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4959102169817127251.post-51202173656632573872011-03-30T10:34:00.000-06:002011-03-30T10:34:39.174-06:00The CreekTrying to describe Indian Creek, the beauty of the lines, the simplicity of life, the sand between your toes, the endless perfect jams, is like try to describe being in love . . . you can't. Roughly a week ago I returned from an amazing trip to Indian Creek with stoke beyond anything I've experienced before. The incredible group of friends made for a great environment to push yourself, with plenty of firepower cheering you on! I am truly over winter and ready to feel rock under my hands and feet.<br />
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I spent most of my time trying to get off the 5.10 hand cracks and on the 5.11 wide hands or tight hands/ring locks. My goal was successful with only one notable send nearly 2 years in the making. The first time I flipped through the pages of and Indian Creek guide, I was struck the by a full page photo introducing the Meat Walls section of the book. The photo is taken from above focused on the terrified face of a man. This man is precariously balanced, standing on what appears to be an edge only an inch wide. He appears to be literally hugging a either side of a very blunt arete, with the apex of the arete splitting his body in half. His right hand is clearly side pulling on a crack the viewer assumes he just climbed. However, his left hand is outstretched to maximum length, reaching for an adjacent crack. The kicker is, he appears to be feet from this crack. The photograph captures both this ridiculous crack switch move and the terrified yet determined face of the climber. I saw this photography and instantly knew I wanted to someday climb this route. Nearly a year later, I finally popped my Indian Creek cherry with a Thanksgiving trip. During this time, I quickly realized any hopes of climbing this route were out of the question. I simply wasn't good enough. However, I did take a top rope lap on an incredible and wild route called Dead Crow on the Cat Wall. This amazing 155 foot enduo fest had it all from a funky stem box problem to start you out, to a a roof pull on tight hands, to sustained hands, to run out sandy face climbing, to the piece de resistance . . . a left arching, nearly horizontal wide hand and fist crack. My return to the Creek for this trip brought me back to the Cat Wall and face to face with Dead Crow. I looked at the line, felt the horrible feeling of fear well up in my stomach, and went home for the night. We returned to the Cat Wall the following day so I could face my fears. The route went amazing until I tried to clip the anchors and fell. Returning to the ground another climbing party was beginning to gather on the routes adjacent to Dead Crow. This group was obviously not your ordinary group of Colorado home boys. These were certified desert rats. For any non-climbers reading this a desert rat is someone vagabond who lives somewhere in the desert southwest of the United States and traded society for climbing the desert. These people also typically talk in terms of how the routes "speak" to them, the universe is either balanced or unbalanced, and the living right now not in the past or in the future. Anyway, being in such close proximity to this group a conversation was inevitably started. The man I was conversing with wore no shirt, pants riddled with holes, and no shoes. He asked if I had lead Dead Crow and how the route was. I described my ascent and the heartbreaking fall at the top. What came next out his mouth I never expected. He told me if I liked Dead Crow than I had to climb Sinestra. (Sinestra being the infamous route featured in the photograph which introduced the Meat Walls section of the Indian Creek guide.) My desire to climb Sinestra entered my mind every time I spoke or thought about the creek. During the weeks leading up to this trip, this was an occurrence multiple times per day. Thus, in this single moment in which a strange man suggested I climb a route I felt somehow like the cards were stacked and my destiny already set. 6 days later on the last day of the trip I stood below Sinestra, gear hanging from my harness and the lead line tied to me. I set off the ground, trying to put the terrified face of the man in photo introducing the Meat Walls out of my head. I climbed 50 or 70 feet of challenging offwidth / wide hands until the crack stopped. To my left a small inch wide ledge ran half the distance to another crack around the nose of a blunt arete. There I was, the man in photo, as I began to gingerly reach for the next crack. I tried several times with no luck to reach the crack, until I finally committed to a slow leaning fall directed at the next crack. Before I knew it the move was over and another 110 feet of crack lay above me. With renewed confidence I charged the remainder of the route with a few major difficulties toward the top. I'll save these for as a surprise to anyone who might try Sinestra in the future.<br />
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Long story short, I couldn't have asked or imaged a more wonderful trip. Marge had her first Indian Creek experienced and walked away loving it. We've both promised each other a several month stint there before our lives get too serious. Just one more reason I'm the luckiest man in the world! All of my closest climbing friends and partners were there, the weather was perfect, and the break from life was much needed.<br />
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I had planned on concluding this post with a short discussion of my upcoming trip to Alaska. Originally, this would've been a research focused trip. However, I've recently found out that due to a lack in funding it appears I won't be headed north. I feel this might be the perfect opportunity to continue the climbing stoke and head somewhere which could truly push my climbing to the next level. The birth place of climbing in America . . . Yosemite k-bonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175070217248048421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4959102169817127251.post-49199026002177006242011-03-04T17:52:00.000-07:002011-03-04T17:52:25.041-07:00Indian CreekFor the last 7 weeks, every Friday, I've been making a mental check of the date. Counting down the Fridays until I was in the Creek. Finally the last check has come, and in one week desert bliss will be upon me! This will be me second trip to the area, and I'm excited to push my skills even that much further on the splitter desert sandstone. Myself, Marge, Loren, Bridget, Eric, Susan, Brad, Jo, Scott, Tate, Pat, & Wilson will have 9 days to see who can destroy their hands the most. My primary goal on this trip is enjoy life to its fullest and the company of such an amazing crew. They are some of my best friends, and the desert setting is truly unique and captivating. Second however, I'd like to figure out 5.11. On both the big end and small end of the grade. As wonderful as it is to walk up the multitude of 5.10 hands splitters (don't worry, I'll climb my fair share) I'm very intrigued by more challenging sizes and jam configurations. Indian Creek is the only climbing area can truly shut you down on a grade. We're not talking about your normal sandbag or perhaps a sustained route. We're talking shut down to the point where after hand for several minutes and you finally discover how to move several inches . . . your so excited that you are utterly compelled to continue climbing. This was the experience which typified my last visit to the sandstone mesas. I have, for some severely deranged reason, decided the big end of the grade might be an easier goal to obtain. Thus I have borrowed and bought more #4 camalots than most people would like see on widefettish.com in hopes of having a respectable go at Big Guy & Big Baby. Time to nut up or shut up. Here are a few photos from my first trip to The Creek last November. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYxsPqItjRaG0Rl09d05ejxG9iVMllS5pSXxMdrYR-Cu4R2xf24yYjAiawHCsI2VRa84uYp8Uwb7cZ1ywIJQQYi83bVMWyKCENcF5fZhBA_85B4SwCG8rmm-cD0R4nqE-uQpYHydFBOw/s1600/SANY0086.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYxsPqItjRaG0Rl09d05ejxG9iVMllS5pSXxMdrYR-Cu4R2xf24yYjAiawHCsI2VRa84uYp8Uwb7cZ1ywIJQQYi83bVMWyKCENcF5fZhBA_85B4SwCG8rmm-cD0R4nqE-uQpYHydFBOw/s320/SANY0086.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The incredible Coyne Crack</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguP4o9rvhtwUSTA35lBQacqRgl7dP78mMFyvUUQ2qs5JC_FB-7AxNYdSdYajGfOOQX9hIgHf8Uij2LUlJrcQCuCbHalxX_lzHWhjx0EYtFT5iYuvbqES2gPHzonuUPDbCpGxbAPKW-XQ/s1600/SANY0039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguP4o9rvhtwUSTA35lBQacqRgl7dP78mMFyvUUQ2qs5JC_FB-7AxNYdSdYajGfOOQX9hIgHf8Uij2LUlJrcQCuCbHalxX_lzHWhjx0EYtFT5iYuvbqES2gPHzonuUPDbCpGxbAPKW-XQ/s320/SANY0039.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Todd cruising Anasazi 5.11</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLyPt34ZqlXryoqtJbN4mhGVCPR-4K_ZflflKDHv2J66beMtL-uBv9BUPsqWHw6nlsLb0WCzuqp5QH_aNh5XzfP-fqDp1_haenoXkdhOfyX1aCBwUNFX68jwA6o3eL0-PO7Q4iUtYJkQ/s320/SANY0045.JPG" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ronan Guy at the base of Super Crack of the Desert. Strangely enough his expression is very similar to mine.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>k-bonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175070217248048421noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4959102169817127251.post-21031953579688007442011-02-22T14:37:00.000-07:002011-02-22T14:37:38.599-07:00And So It BeginsCall it what you will, call it what you like. This is the beginning of a dream. Two years ago I saw a photo which has stuck in my mind since the moment I saw it. The photo I saw was not only beautiful, it was commanding. From a distance you could barely even tell there were human figures in the photo, the immense sea of red granite stained with a dominating vertical charcoal streak, hid the figures well. After admiring the shear beauty of the rock, I finally realized there were indeed three people huddled together at a hanging belay; ropes neatly flaked across one's lap. At the time my climbing abilities were in their infancy stages, but without care for anything but the pure aesthetic of the stone, I knew I wanted to climb the beautiful route I was staring at. However, this desire was quelled as quickly as it formed when I discover the route I found so attractive was the Bachar-Yerian on Medlicott Dome. My desires weren't halted because of any normal reason which might stop one from climbing a route. The route wasn't located at one of the ends of the earth, garnering a massive price tag just to travel to the routes base. In fact, the B-Y is located a very short walk from a major US highway running through Tuolumne Meadows, CA. The route does ascend some massive pile of junk rock waiting to topple over at any second. Again the exact opposite is true, the route ascends some of the highest quality granite on the face of our tiny planet. And finally, the route didn't require a massive list of expensive gear; just a small rack of quickdraws with a puny assortment of gear to supplement, a rope, a good partner, and more confidence than anyone of the cast of Jersey Shore. This last bit about confidence is what left me crumpling the idea to climb the Bachar-Yerian into a small wad and tossing it to the trash receptacle in my mind. The Bachar-Yerian might be one of the most (if not the most) mentally challenging routes found anywhere. I'm sure this claim could be debated for as long as the debate surrounding where it is and where it is not appropriate to place bolts. So to save us all from that and provide my top three reasons why I define this route to be the most mentally challenging route found anywhere. <br />
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1. 11c X . . . to anyone who doesn't understand this, the 11c means the route is difficult. I don't care who you are or how long you've been climbing . . . nearly every climber can remember a time (as brief as it may have been) where 11c was HARD. The part means X if one were to fall during certain portions of this route, you might not come home.<br />
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2. That whole part about falling I mentioned above, well its validity has been tested, by some of the best climbers in history. They survived to the tune of broken limbs. Thus, the thought that I (I meaning me, meaning the climber who still feels pretty nervous on 11c, meaning the climber who is far from elite) am going to attempt to do something that challenged the top elite climbers only 10 years ago . . . well its like being a college basketball player who is going to show down with Larry Bird . . . you know your a baller but facing off against the Birdman isn't going to be a walk in the park.<br />
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3. Last but not least, this route is incredibly consistent. There isn't just one pitch in which you could become royally fucked if you blow it, you could become royally fucked if you blow it on any pitch during nearly any move on the entire route. . . for 500 feet. That's 50 stories for anyone who is having a hard time imagining this.<br />
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So without further ado . . . this is my formal announcement that I plan to attempt the Bachar-Yerian in September of 2011. Stay tuned for updates on climbing, training, fun, and more!<br />
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Cheers,<br />
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Kevink-bonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175070217248048421noreply@blogger.com1