Grizzlies, Fish and Fires, OH MY!

                Bears, fires, fish. If I had to describe my trip with my dad and step mom to the Bob Marshall Wilderness in Montana in a couple words, they would be it. This is a long one, so grab your coffee or a beer and get comfortable.

                My dad (Bob, but not "The Bob"), step mom (Brenda) and I left with 8 horses and mules from Minnesota early one morning with the intention of doing a 11 or 12 day, 75 mile loop in "The Bob" with the image of riding underneath the Chinese Wall and catching fish in all three forks of the Sun River. It turned into an adventure. And by adventure, I mean shit went wrong. "It's not an adventure until shit goes wrong", a wise traveler once said.  I would have liked another soul to come with to make packing the mules easier along with a fishing buddy. As with most of my adventures, it's hard to find someone that can take that much time off their job.

                Getting to and from "The Bob" wasn't too exciting except for our nights at the Bar X Ranch in Medora, ND. We have stayed there before, and this time we actually had to drop off a mare for Doug the owner. We got camp situated on the trip out when an obviously drunk, overweight, shirtless man with a beer in his hand asks if we can pull out his little car down by the river. Before we could say ok, he said he'd pay us 20 bucks. Deal! We drive over to a little Kia Soul buried in sand and wedged up against a tree on the rear end. The dumb son of a bitch backed right into it while trying to get out in his drunken stupor. We pull him out, and then settled down for the night shortly after. Sometime during the night we got woken up by a crunch and his girlfriend screaming at him ramming into her little car with his Kia. Now you can't call someone a drunkard based on just one experience with them.

                 On the way back home, the man and his girlfriend were still there but didn't talk to us. This doesn't mean you can't come to conclusions about one's character without words. They left shortly after we got there and returned not after too long. Next thing you know, he's prying at the door to their motor home with a piece of metal and she was on the roof trying to figure out how to get in through the roof vent! Well after an hour of course words and blaming, they ran off to bring back a locksmith to get them in. Then just before dark, dad glanced over there to see the man naked (except for a beer in his hand of course) just walking around the motor home. He wasn't just dashing quick to the car or anything, he was just strolling around with his big belly and white ass hanging out. Let me reiterate that we only spent about 20 hours next to them and only about 4 of those were us being awake! Can you imagine what goes on in the rest of this man's life? I'm sure if there was a reality show about the failures in his life, it would be bigger than anything on TV right now.

                Now, on to the trip proper.  We rode in about 8 miles through some interesting country. The first part was through straight as an arrow Ponderosa Pines. Then after crossing the West Fork of the Sun River, it was mostly all burned with some undergrowth coming back. It was kind of a Mordor from Lord of the Rings looking landscape. It was a bit eerie. We camped right next to a bend in the river with a nice deep pool with a log jam in it. It looked perfect for fish, but first we had to set up camp. We hobbled the horses (tied their front feet together), so they couldn't get too far from camp. I noticed that Freckles was looking intensely at something in the woods. I went up to look and saw a grizzly snarling and swatting towards her! I quickly ran back and grabbed the .44 Mag and called for dad. We ended up getting about 30 yards away and we tried shouting to get it out of camp to no avail. I ended up picking up rocks and throwing it close to him. He didn't finally start getting out of Dodge until I hit him with a golf ball size rock. That was the closest I had ever been to a Griz and my heart was beating a little hard, and not from the elevation!

                The fishing was pretty good. I ended up getting a bunch of smaller 10 and 11 inch rainbows and cutthroats, but the real prize was a 17 inch rainbow in that deep pool on a small Mepps spinner. Since the fishing and camp were good, we decided to stay another night. I decided that I would go to the top of Prairie Reef and check out the lookout up there. It was the highest point for miles and miles around and I needed to see how good of shape I was in for my upcoming NOLS trip. It was about 2 miles to the trail that headed straight up the mountain to the top, then another 5.5 miles to the top with about 3000 feet elevation gain. I packed up a day pack totaling about 5 pounds and starting trail running the fairly level first two miles. I then hiked fast on the steeper parts going up and running the flatter sections. I finally couldn't run anymore at about 1 mile left to the top. I ended up making it to the top in 2 hours flat. I putzed around up there for about 20 minutes. I climbed to the roof of the lookout, took some pictures, and ate my sandwich. I tried to start running down, but decided that I had done enough and took it easy on the way down. It took my 1:53 to get down. Needless to say, I was in plenty good shape doing a 2.75 mile up 3000 vertical feet .

On top of Prairie Reef 8868'

                The next day was another interesting day. Brenda's horse, Rex, didn't like to cross muddy creeks for some strange reason. She would try to kick him across and eventually get him across. This time though, he wouldn't come and the pack string was getting anxious. I saw her get off and start to lead him across. Before I could say that she shouldn't do that because he would jump it, he did just that. He bulled her over and I could see and hear that he stepped on her. I quickly got off and ran over there. She was in a depression and couldn't see her until I got over there and I was expecting her to be seriously injured. She was lying down but conscious. She was holding her stomach and I immediately feared a ruptured appendix or internal bleeding, because Rex is a big boy. She eventually got up and I helped her back up on Rex. We were about 16 miles from the trailhead with no way to contact emergency services. I told her that if things got worse we would do the best we could to try to get her to help, but if it was something serious she was kind of S.O.L. That's the cognitive risk we take when we go on backcountry trips. We deliberately don't take devices to contact Search and Rescue (SAR) or anybody else. We feel that if you get into the wilderness, you get your own ass out! If you die in the process, at least you died in an amazing place doing something you love.

                The fourth day was what we all came for, the Chinese Wall. It is a 15 mile long escarpment that runs north and south with the east face rising up about 300 feet or so for the whole length. It such a pleasure to have a spot like this that didn't get swallowed up into a national park. You have to work hard to get back here. It's a minimum two day adventure to the wall no matter what trailhead you take. It was absolutely awe inspiring to be able to ride under it for roughly 7 or 8 miles. During the day, I noticed smoke out to the northeast of us. It didn't seem like a whole lot, but it was noted since that was the direction that we eventually had to head.

Riding into Chinese Wall

                We camped at the fishless Your Lake that night and got out early. After a 1500 foot decent down into Rock Creek into very heavy timber we had a chopper come overhead. This was quite strange because helicopters are only allowed in a wilderness area for SAR missions. I figured that someone got hurt up by the Chinese wall or beyond and called for help. We couldn't see any smoke down in this valley so we figured it was just a small fire that had died out. We contemplated hard camping at roughly the 6.5 mile mark for the day since it had decent grass for the horses, something that we hadn't had in 2 days even though the Forest Service said that there was plenty of grass along our whole route. Good thing we had brought 150 lbs of hay pellets along! I am the navigator on trips and said that I thought we could find a decent campsite along two more creeks about another 3 miles or so ahead. I wanted to get to some good fishing and felt that we needed to make up some miles for some shorter days. It was a damn good thing we went farther. We came out of the heavy timber and saw a huge plume of smoke and we were headed right to the right of it! Dad was a little concerned about it until the trail turned straight into it and we saw flames shooting 30 feet high scorching trees about 600 yards away. He then seemed to be VERY concerned and asked "Where in the hell are we going!!!!" I told him that we would cross Red Shale Creek and turned east and out of it, which fortunately is what happened. Not before another little escapade happened though. While crossing the creek with the heat of the fire very noticeable, I was leading Rex (with Brenda riding a mule now) and the son of a bitch wouldn't be lead across the creek! I wrapped his lead rope around my horn and tried pulling him twice, but he stood fast and almost pulled my saddle of my mule twice! I don't get angry very often, but I started cussing up a storm and trying to slap him in the ass to get across. I wasn't about to become a fried delicacy for a Griz! I finally got him to go the third time, both wet from the hoofs splashing me in the creek and sweat from the heat of the fire. Of course during all of this, dad was nowhere to be seen. He took his pack string and beat cheeks away from the fire. I didn't get the memo that it was every man for himself! We ended up trotting up to him about 300 yards away.

Too close to a fire for me!

                We ended up running into some Hotshots that were on their way to look for us since we registered our route at the trailhead and we were the only ones unaccounted for I guess. They said that the chopper was for us! It was supposed to turn us around, but we got into such thick timber, that it couldn't see our string. They suggested going another 2 miles to a campsite. Well this turned us into about a 15 or 16 mile day and we were wiped!

SCARY!!

                We got to an excellent campsite right on the North Fork of the Sun River the next day and stayed a couple nights. We had morning sun to warm us, and afternoon shade to stay cool. Fishing was superb with me catching many trout in the 14 and 15 inch range on dry flies. I would catch a fish on about every 7 casts or so. It was almost easy!

                Nothing particularly interesting happened except for dad deciding to try to have us all become that fried delicacy for meat eaters once again. He was trying to light the charcoal starter for his Dutch oven. The paper underneath didn't seem to light so I was down there lighting it, and he starts pouring Coleman fuel on it. In any other circumstance, it would have been just fine. He looked at me and kept pouring though. I mean an extra second makes all the difference and that second seemed like it was forever. I looked at him and just as it dawned on him that he should have stopped "awhile" ago, everything went ablaze! I felt the intense heat and saw the fire shoot up the starter and up into the fuel can. So with the can on fire, he dropped it and this poured fuel over very dry grass and his pant leg. Both started on fire but he had the presence of mind to put the can upright before I could tell him to start rolling. The problem with fuel fire is that you need to smother it though. So with him lying down frantically trying to take his pants off, I could see his shoe rubber starting to melt. I started curb stomping his leg to try to get it out. Fortunately I was successful, but now had the issue of the grass fire to deal with! I quickly ran over to the kitchen area and grabbed water. I got most of it put out with one bucket, but made sure it was all out with the other. We both said everything up to the point of the inferno was slow motion and then all hell broke loose and time speed increased dramatically. He thought the paper wasn't lit yet, and kind of forgot he was pouring while looking at me. Luckily, he didn't get burned except his hand a little bit and his pride for a little while I'm sure.

Gorgeous Pool

                The next couple days weren't too exciting thankfully. We ended up camping on the South Fork of the Sun River right next to the trail that headed up to one of the few lakes in The Bob. I decided to pack up my backpack and spinning rod and head up there one morning. With already having a grizzly experience and not carrying my .44 on me, I was whistling the whole way to let anything know I was coming. The far away scenery of mountain tops were hazed by the fire still but the meadows and trees were still fun to look at, until I came upon a Grizzly sow and her cub at about 35 yards! Apparently bears don't know to run away from someone whistling "Mickey Mouse" loudly. I immediately stopped and started to back up immediately (no I didn't get a picture you vultures!). Fortunately, the never looked up from eating their berries and I went back to about 100 yards and starting banging sticks and shouting. I came back in about ten minutes and they were gone! That was one of the few times in my life that I felt that death was knocking on my doorstep. Just like the time falling off the rock in the BWCA and my head whizzing by the rock at about 6 inches! (Go back to read that one if you have no idea what I'm talking about). I also scared up a black bear at about 60 yards a mile down the trail but now I was shouting things like "COLD BEER, POPCORN, NACHOS!" or whatever I was thinking about at the time such as "NOLS COURSE, CLIMBING FEST, and SOLAR SYSTEM!". I wasn't taking any chances of another run-in!

                I found an awesome campsite on a bluff about 20 feet above the lake that was shelter on three sides by stunted pines. The fishing was absolutely the best with every fish about 14-16 inches, all being cutthroats. It was a struggle to catch fish for supper and took about 4 hours to get one under 12 inches with about 50 being caught. I built a small fire in the fire pit and found a thin flat rock to put over it. I spit on it to make sure it was sizzling hot and threw the fish on whole. It took about 7 minutes and the fish was done and was absolutely amazing! I noticed during the day that a huge cumulus cloud was to the north while fishing. Little did I notice that it never moved! It was the plume from the fire and it was humungous! I kept an eye on it the rest of the evening and said that if I could see orange in it at night, that I would descend in the dark and get back to the horse camp. Turns out that Dad could see it, and was freaking out. He wanted to come up and get me, but thankfully he didn't and everything worked out fine.

Campsite view with smoke

                Well, that was the last story, we got out safely and headed home. The naked drunk was the only exciting part, and that was already told. I hope you're not bouncing off the walls with caffeine or in such a drunken stooper that none of this is making sense anymore! Next post should be about my NOLS trip and the adventure that it was to get to Lander, Wyoming. Cheers!

P.S. Remember what James Taylor said. "The secret to life is enjoying the passing of time"

The Wonderous International Climber's Festival

         
                I finally started getting on some trips and having some fun once again. I'm going to break each trip into its own post even though the two trips were back to back totaling 22 days.

                It all started about 5 years ago in college when I heard about this climbing festival out in Lander, WY. It was supposed to be this big, five day climbing party with exhibitors, prizes and fun. The International Climber's Festival had such a magnificent ring to it and seemed to have such a mystique about it, plus I had been to Lander on a backpacking trip back in '07 and loved the little town.  I made rough plans to go every year, but something always came up. The world's largest volleyball tournament a couple times over in the cheese head state, "working" in Cali, buying my new home and some other lame ass excuse one year kept me from going. This year I made it a priority to get my ass out there.

                Originally I had thought that I could make enough money before the ICF back in MN to sustain myself for the rest of the year. A late spring and not a whole lot of work made me realize that I had to delay my parting and buy a plane ticket. I called up an old climbing friend Caity, who lives in Denver, and asked if she wanted to go up and experience it. She was on board, along with her sister Jaimie and I was stoked. Ticket bought and bags packed, I jetted out on a Tuesday morning and before I knew it, we were in Lander on Wednesday night about midnight since Caity had to work.

                We set up our tents in the middle of huge cottonwood trees right in the Lander City Park. They let you camp or park there any time for three days with no charge! The rule is overlooked during the climbing festival and I'm planning on seeing if they actually enforce it after my NOLS course. 120V receptacles are in the pavilion for your electronic charging pleasure if your passing through, and clean toilets are right in the parking area. I digress. I would guess there were 50 tents spread out over the property. Not too crowded at all and no one being too rowdy. We were in bed by midnight every night and most others were also.

                Lander is known for its sport climbing up in Sinks Canyon and way up at Wild Iris. Sinks Canyon is called so because the Popo Agie (pronounced Poh-poh Zha) River disappears underground for about a quarter mile and then reappears down the canyon a little farther. Pretty nuts! Most of the climbing is in the sun on the north side of the canyon, but thanks to my newly bought guidebook, I found a crag on the south side and called "Shady Side". I figured that would keep us comfortable and out the 90 degree heat down in the valley. Caity, Jaimie and I climbed 5 routes at "The School" crag before the sun started to hit at us about 3 or so in the afternoon (list of all climbs on trip at the end of the write-up).  We met Zach who was traveling with the "Solid Rock Climbers for Christ" group out of Houston, Texas. They had gone up to Smith Rock in Oregon, over to Squamish in British Columbia and then were hitting the fest up. He was driving himself and going to stay in Lander for a little bit and climb in the Cirque of the Towers with gal. This gal was Christina from Milwaukee/ D.C. She was on a road trip living out of her little Honda Civic. I ended up chatting with her a bit on Friday and climbed with her on Saturday over on the Shady Side once again. We went to the Heavy Metal Rock Band wall, after some vague description in the guidebook telling us to follow faint game trails to find a main trail. We got turned around a bit but finally found our way to the main trail just below the wall. I was set to lead the warm-up climb and we noticed that the rock seemed a bit fragile. Neither of us had our brain bucket with, but decided to stand off to the side and chance it. I didn't break any holds, but she broke a softball size foothold about 30 feet up that came whizzing down. A bit spooky for the "warm-up"! Luckily, the rock on all the other climbs were much better. The other must have a different perception of what is quality and what isn't. We thought the no-star .11a was the best route there and the 2-star .11a was convoluted and garbage. This was also the case over on the .10's. The pocketed dolomite was a bit tough on the fingers since it was a bit sharp due to lack of folks getting on these climbs very often. We did four routes and decided to run down to the nice sandstone in the bottom of the canyon. We decided to do a 2-star, 2 or 3 pitch  5.7 chimney trad climb. We ran down there and found the route. We decided she would lead and I would follow with a backpack with our shoes since there was a walk-off. After a run-out start, a slippery crux, 5.0 top and fighting with a backpack in chimneys (my fault), we both decided that this once again was nowhere near a 2-star route. It was an adventure none-the-less though.

                The festival itself was an awesome time. There were crate staking, rope coiling, table bouldering, cornhole , tug-of-war and a dyno competition. Caity and I lost out in the first round of cornhole due to winds pushing my bag and a lack of practice, we will call it, on her end. I attempted the rope coiling comp and was doing really well until I lost the loops in one hand. The winning time was 23 seconds and I wouldn't have beat it, but wouldn't have been far off I feel. Crate stacking was awesome to watch.  The premise is to stack standard milk crates as high as you can while standing on them the whole time! Women did the best and I think a gal got 19. Lots of balance and concentration involved. Probably the coolest contest I saw was the table bouldering. It was pretty much a standard 6 foot table with metal folding legs, but they put heavy sandbags to hold down the legs and a long custom pad underneath to protect the "boulderers". They had to complete 3 separate actions to win a pair of fresh shoes from Salewa. Competitors had to go around the middle of the table, which wasn't too hard. Then they had to go head first through the legs and under the table. That gave the taller folks a major challenge, but stunted peoples didn't seem to have too hard of a time. The hardest for everyone was to go feet first through the legs, SUPER tough. I think only 2 folks completed all 3 tasks. Some burly little woman and some skinny little dude.

                Tons of stickers were hoarded by yours truly, and I also won a prize pack from Paradox Sports (organization for disabled outdoor adventurers) for donating a couple bucks to them. The only thing I kept was the Patagonia shirt and hat though. I got an Otterbox, but I'm going to take it to REI for in-store credit. I also got a ton of organic bars, but I couldn't fly them back in my carry on, so I decided to throw them to the crowd and score some good karma. A really nice Black Diamond chalk bag was thrown in there too, but I had heard that a guy from Oregon had forgot his, so I traded it to him for a beer. He got a smoking deal, but I got more of a buzz and maybe some more karma.... maybe.

                I signed up for an American Alpine Club membership so I could get rescue insurance in backcountry situations and they have climber friendly health insurance. I also get sweet perks like a pro-deal on gear and free camping down in Joshua Tree, California along with discounted huts around the world.

                One of the coolest things of the festival was Tommy Caldwell's (world class climber) speech during the keynote speakers presentation. He started off by saying that he wasn't sure what he was going to talk about that morning but decided to speak in public for the first time about his kidnapping in Kyrgyzstan back in the early 2000's. The room got dead silent but you could tell that everyone was super stoked. For all the other speakers, there had been a little white noise by people talking lightly. You could hear a pin drop now in a room of 200 people. He went on to talk about how they were getting shot at by rebels when they were 1000 ft up a wall, had to rappel down and got taken. They didn't have any food for 6 days when they were finally forced to hike back to their stuff to try to get supplies. They only had one guard trailing them on 4th class terrain who was scared shitless. Tommy said he pulled him off the cliff and killed him! He was a little shaken after saying that but finished his story of finding safety quite well.  I was super excited to be a part of that speech. He will go down as one of the greatest climbers of all times.

                I took a hands-on clinic up at Wild Iris on Friday dealing with improvised rescue on climbs. It was stuff I had all read before, but it was super helpful to physically tie the knots and go through the processes involved to keep yourself safe while extracting an injured climbing member. There was also a little climbing festival that included Wind and Rattlesnakes; The Birth of a Western Climbing Town. It was an excellent 45 minute film about the climbing history of Lander with great cinematography and narration. It was really cool to see how Lander has become the town it is today, being both a ranching and climbing town with their differing personalities yet coexisting properly.

                Overall I had an excellent time and would definitely make it a priority to go again if I'm not working during it. Cheap, wholesome (minus the beer) fun. I thank Caity and Jaimie for hauling my butt around. I'm also super excited to climb again someday with new friends made.

                For now, it's working my butt off to try to make enough dough to try to get me through until next year. Sorry for the lack of photos. My DSLR wouldn't fit in my carry-on and my phone was dead the whole time... deal with it! I'll get on writing the Montana trip with its stories of up-close grizzles and wildfires! Stay tuned, it should be out in a week or so!

Jaimie right of Killer Cave in Sinks Canyon

                Climbs:  Shady Side crag, The School Wall

·         Sorting Hat Right 5.7

·         Sorting Hat Left 5.10a

·         C'est Fini 5.9

·         Imaginary Fans 5.8/10c

·         Banish Misfortune 5.6/10a

                Shady Side crag, Heavy Metal Rock Band Wall

·         Indian Summer 5.10c

·         George's Last Stand 5.10d

·         Dennis and Jacque's Excellent Adventure 5.11a

·         Variation to D and J 5.11a

                Sandstone Buttress

·         Sentinel Chimney 5.7 two pitch, trad

                                Harvest Moon Wall

·         Firecracker Kid 5.10b

·         Bush Doctor 5.12a (project)

               

A Scientific Article on Dirtbaggius Maxiums

Exhibit A

I'd like to introduce you to a little known a species of vandwellers (people living a mobile lifestyle, see www.cheaprvliving.com), Dirtbaggius Maximus. They are in the Vandwellius family. They are also in the Fulltimerius genus sometimes workamping as they go. Dirtbaggius Maximus is usually so involved with his/her climbing, that they don't even realize other Vandwellius family members exist out there. I'd like to try to close that gap and help the poor Dirtbaggius Maximus learn some tricks from the more social Vandwellius family members. I'm sure the Vandwellius family could use a brush up on the peculiarities of Dirtbaggius Maximus too. (This will be done in layman's terms for simplicity sake)(I have been both a dirtbag and a vandweller and consider myself an expert on the subject :-) )


Dirtbag: (From UrbanDictionary.com)

A person who is committed to a given (usually extreme) lifestyle to the point of abandoning employment and other societal norms in order to pursue said lifestyle. Dirtbags can be distinguished from hippies by the fact that dirtbags have a specific reason for their living communally and generally non-hygienically; dirtbags are seeking to spend all of their moments pursuing their lifestyle

The best examples of dirtbags and dirtbagging are the communities of climbers that can be found in any of the major climbing areas of North America--Squamish, BC; Yosemite, CA; Joshua Tree, CA; etc. 

Many of us vandwellers don't do it out of necessity, we do it because we want to. We want to have freedom from the societal norms that are pushed on us from birth. We do what WE want to do. Dirtbags don't do it because they have to, they do it because they can. They become vandwellers out of necessity. They live frugally. With the changing seasons and distances to different pieces of rock, they need to be mobile also.

Dirtbags come in quite a few shapes and forms. There is the backcountry dirtbag (Dirtbaggius Ruralus)(Exhibit C) who needs 4x4 to get into the wild parts of the country to reach rocks that are seldom touched, possibly putting up a first ascent. There is also the front country dirtbag (Dirtbaggius Urbanus)(Exhibit D) who can drive on the pavement of Yosemite, Joshua Tree, Red River Gorge, etc, and they might be more interested in a van or class C. There have been rumors of a hybrid (Dirtbaggius Versatilius)(no known photo exists) who have a topper for backcountry adventures and a TT for front country "plush" living.

Exhibit C

Exhibit D

The problem with trying to "enlighten" the dirtbag is in his/her lack of connection to the internet. Most would rather do away with the smartphones and laptops for more gear and less work. The goal is to try to get the wanna-be dirtbags to get on websites like cheaprvliving so they can transition smoothly to the Vandwellius family. I will try to inform through climbing websites, but I believe the current dirtbags are beyond our help for the most part. Maybe dropping pamphlets in major dirtbag hubs (listed above) with photos of www.cheaprvlivingforum.com members ingenious rigs will entice them to hitchhike to the nearest library to do more research!

I'd like to leave you with a professional short video (8 min)(Exhibit E) of an older dirtbag living out in the desert. Gorgeous shots and captivating story. This might help visually bridge the gap between dirtbags and vandwellers for some of you. (For slow connections or you folks with bandwidth limits, turn off HD in lower right corner)

Links to the lifestyle of Dirtbaggius Maximus
http://www.rockandice.com/lates-news/american-dirtbag?A=SearchResult&SearchID=1826264&ObjectID=4026953&ObjectType=35
http://legacy.climbing.com/exclusive/otw2/volume4/dirtbagging/
http://www.summitpost.org/phpBB3/how-to-live-like-a-dirtbag-climber-redux-t51267.html

The Next Step

Closing in on to two years, wow! That's how long since I last posted. Not because I hadn't done anything "sweet" or "cool", it's because I didn't feel inspired to write and that I didn't feel like I was doing adventurous things on a regular basis. I worked hard and got a "new and major upgrade to me" camper trailer, 27 years newer and 5 feet longer to be exact. I was the best man for a wedding that didn't happen. I rode horse through a wind storm in the Beartooth's with trees falling everywhere. Friends say I was 6 inches from imminent death in the Boundary Waters (sorry mom). I have a beard now! Last but not least, I moved to Ohio to stay warm (compared to MN) and to spend time with my old friend, Nic. That's where I'm currently at... Ohio.

The Beard!

The first thing I heard from many people was "Why the hell are you  in Ohio, there aren't any mountains in Ohio" or "There isn't any climbing in Ohio". Very astute observations indeed. No, no there are not jaw dropping mountains with snow covered peaks or rocky precipices here. Hell, there are hardly any short walls or boulders within two hours. That's not why I came here. Being in the company of an old friend and rekindling a relationship is why I came. I could have saved a lot of money and lived at my mom's for the winter. I could have hooked up the rig and went down south and dirtbagged once again (which was a serious thought). Here is where I ended up though, and I have no regrets.

It is a nice reprieve to live in a house without wheels for a little, but it comes at a cost. The monetary cost is very little compared to what it could be thanks to Nic being a very gracious host. I try to make up for it in non-monetary ways such as cooking and cleaning though. Overall it doesn't feel right though. Neighbors all around, electronic distractions, and the loss of feeling connected to the earth, all are a cost of living here. It also comes at a cost of losing precious time that could be spent in the desert southwest yanking on JTree or Cochise Stronghold granite or Red Rock sandstone. I don't think one should dwell on time though. Why fret over something that you could have done? No regrets, just make things happen.

It's not that hard to make things happen if you prioritize them. I recently put a piece of paper on the wall just above my mattress on the floor saying "Dreams to Goals: Goals to Reality: Make it Happen!". I know it isn't very poetic, but it is inspiring to me. It made me take my dreams and write them down. These random romantic thoughts of high peaks, secluded waters and inspiring (or at least I imagine them to be) places and turned them into a visible and tangible thing on paper. Now I have something to work towards everyday. Now I ask myself each day, "What am I doing today that gets me closer to one, or several, of my goals?".

I'm currently a non-conformist. I work here and there. Living on wheels isn't something most people aspire to. It all became clear when I was in college.... I went to college to have fun and meet new people, just like most kids. Sure, I went to find out what I wanted to do in life, but at the time, I really didn't have a clue about what I wanted to do. All I knew is that I had always wanted to do things on my own terms. I have never taken people telling me what to do very well. I understand its time and place, but I don't like it. College administration told me to choose a major when I turned a junior. I put it off and they said that they would drop my classes if I didn't... jerks, I just want to hang out and have fun. Luckily, by that time, I had started thinking about making a deeper connection with the love of my life. Her name is Mother Nature and she is a beauty when she is fully uncloaked and not marred by man. Sure, I had always enjoyed being out in the woods before, but I was too young, naive and thought enjoying the outdoors was something you do when you don't work. I started doing research and found the possibilities of working outdoors and making money at it. Not good money mind you (my campground hosting comes to mind), but money. It was a dream of mine to make money in the outdoors someday or at least have a "job" where I could spend most of my time outdoors. A dream, not a goal.

Fast forward to the here and now. I have done research and recently set a goal of working for NOLS as a field instructor. An outdoor educator that takes mostly young adults out into the wild places of the world and show them how to be a leader, self-reliant and show them the advantages of recreating in the outdoors on extended wilderness trips. The ball is in motion for completing this goal. The appropriate people have been talked to, courses are being picked, and gear and knowledge is being acquired. Being a NOLS instructor allows me to succeed in my goal to work in the outdoors, but also lets me do some good to the world. What good is it if every goal on your bucket list is only for you? Sure, most of one's goals with be self-fulfilling, but what good is it if you sit on a beach in Tahiti and drink daiquiris all day every day if you never help anyone?

The Art of Non-Conformity by Chris Guillebeau has helped me greatly in consolidating my thoughts about all of my dreams, goals and what I want to accomplish with my life. I highly recommend it if you are looking to change your life.

In closing, I urge you to take your dreams and put them on paper. Be accountable for making your life yours!

P.S. I'm going to try to post every couple of weeks on here. Drop me a comment on what you would like to hear. Not much will be happening in the next couple months adventure wise, so do you want to hear stories not posted before? How about some gear reviews from me? Maybe you want to see my goals listed. Maybe you don't want to hear from me until I do something amazing like climb Fitz Roy in Patagonia or catch a fish with my bare hands in Kamchatka while wearing a clown suit (you get the idea). What I'm saying is that your input would be greatly appreciated.

The Edge

It's been awhile folks. A lot has happened since "we last met". I've climbed solo, gone down single track on my bike at breakneck speed over rocks and roots, and had a good buddy out to visit. Along with many other things.
Mostly, I've been waiting out bad weather and working. Weather lately has been snowing,raining and cold. It dries up just about to the point of the trails getting ready to ride again, then mama nature decides that she should keep me inside with more nasty weather and get me fat. I've had a couple instances of waking up to half a foot of snow on my trailer roof. Which reminds me, I have two leaks still in my roof. Ace Harware is going to get more of my money it looks like. Along the lines of modifications to the trailer, I have successfully installed my solar system that I got off of a co-worker. I snagged it for a good price and it is more than I need when the sun is out everyday. The sun hasn't peaked out of the clouds and rain in the last 3 days though and I'm being quite frugal with it since I watched a movie (my first one in two months!) the first night of bad weather and that drains the battery pretty good. I've thought about going to two 6 volt batteries hooked in series but that's 150 bucks and I think that I can make it just fine without.
I have a new pet! No, not a dog, cat or other normal furry friend. It's a female deer that I have named Lucy. She eats all the green grass around my trailer every night. I have come within 5 feet of her when I'm the trailer and 10 feet outside. She is cautious but not scared. She doesn't mind me talking but definately doesn't like me whistling. I must not be singing the right tune to her.
My good friend Ross McHugh came out to visit me two weeks ago. We ended up buying him a bike since most of the hiking trails around here are going to be snowed in until mid July. He fell in love with it. Our first day we did some pretty easy stuff and ended up going 19 miles all around Boca Reservoir. The next day we met up with my crazy Australian friend, Andrew, and followed him on some steep downhill single track that blew my mind! We were flying over rocks, roots and some jumps. I found a new sport that's going to cost me both in money and I'm sure in body parts sooner or later. Navigating down this narrow trail as fast as you can is an amazing challenge.

Ross and I on the top of Boca Hill

We also met up with Ross' cousin and went to a "Rubix Cube" party with him at a bar up in Squaw Valley. The object was to trade clothes with other random folks to be completely one of the colors on the rubix cube. This lead to many drinks and a horrible next day. Ross and I blame the altitude for making us feel like shit the next day.
Other than that, we just kind of hung out and had a good time. The weather was nice in general and led to good bonfires and mallow roasting.

Boca Sunrise from "work"

Back to biking! The south facing trails like Loyd's should be open by mid-week. I got a lot of making up to do for the last week or so of doing nothing except biking about 14 miles round trip to work 3 days a week. I'm excited to get on The Animal. Its a heinous downhill trek that has something like 40 wooden steps you go down, high berms you hit at top speed and jumps! Sounds like a bone breaking good time to me! The Flume should also be opening up soon. That's on the east side of Lake Tahoe and has some amazing views of the lake due to you riding on the edge of a huge cliff!
I also can't wait for the weather to break this week so I can get back on the rock again. I haven't been on real rock in 3 weeks. I've had to settle for paying 5 bucks to go to the local bouldering gym. Its just not the same though. I went a month ago with a cool couple down by Reno on some granite. I ended the day on a totally sandbagged (meaning it was harder then the book said) .10a. I was kinda pumped from climbing all day and this thing was run-out due to me thinking it was going to be easy and not bringing any extra protection. Pretty scary when your 20 feet from your last bolt at a 45 degree angle to the right. A fall would mean a massive pendulum into the wall without being able to catch myself well. Scrapes would have been the best outcome. I'd like not the think about the worst. I was pumped out on this ok hold and had to do a blind reach up to an unknown hold. I went at it half-hearted several times and couldn't reach it. Finally, I harnessed all my strength and will and went for it. It seemed like forever from when I coiled up til when I was fully extended and holding a huge hold. It was an amazing experience. I don't want to do that all that often, but it makes you a better climber and person. You push your mental limits when there are severe consequences.
Sometimes these scenarios are forced upon you. Like the time I was backpacking in Utah and we came across a snow slide that has swallowed the trail. We had just went over two passes, one of them being 12,500 feet and I wasn't about to go back, but the snow was at too severe of an angle to cross. I spotted a place that was free of snow, but it involved a 8 foot downclimb and a shuffle across a foot wide "path" for about 15 feet that met back up with the trail proper. It wouldn't have been that bad except for the fact that it was well over 1000 feet down a severely angled talus slope. The kind that you toss a rock down and it gains speed and other rock companions until a deafening cacophony takes over the canyon. My female partner understandable had a mental breakdown when I said we should go. It lasted only 30 seconds and we were on our way. This was my first experience with complete and udder focus. You let everything else fade away and its just you and the task at hand. Its the consequence of failure that makes you focus.
Hopefully the rain of the last couple days has knocked down the snow on Donner Summit and my V5 will be accessible. The last time I was up there, I did my first solo (climbing without gear and protection). I've heard about it for so long now and finally felt strong and confident enough in my skills to try one. It was only a 40 foot V1 and all the holds looked bomber. A fall didn't mean death, but meant some serious ramifications. Everything around me faded and it was just me and the rock. I've never felt quite like that before. I intentionally put myself in this spot. I finished it with no problem. I topped out and enjoyed the view of the snowy mountains and of Donner Lake. I can't say I completely liked it, but its good to be on the edge every once in awhile.
"The Edge". It's a not a place nor a thing. It's not fear nor craziness. Its a combination of all of these things and probably more. It's being in a spot where you are on the brink of losing control of a situation. You have to focus all your knowledge and energy into one specific task to not have a disaster. Sometimes this disaster is a nasty fall while blazing down a technical single track on your bike. Sometimes it is eminent death. Its a balance of knowing yourself and knowing the task at hand. A miscalculation in either can lead to bad things. Not only for you but for other people, specifically loved ones. I'm talking of course about being on the death defying edge. I haven't flirted with that edge on purpose much, and don't particularly like to, but sometimes the alternatives are unthinkable like on that snow covered trail in Utah.
Sometimes the edge comes to you when you think your pretty far away from it. The run-out down by Reno is a good example of this. You think your in control and then the situation changes. The first time I can think of this was on a backpacking trip in Wyoming. We were roughly 20 miles from the trailhead and I woke up feeling like death. I couldn't eat or drink. Walking right away in the morning was not an option considering I could hardly stand. I thought the edge on this trip would be a busted ankle or something of the like, not being deathly ill. The only illnesses I knew of were waterborne and they took weeks to come to. It turned out the edge creeped and crawled its way into my tent, then sleeping bag, then stomach. You can bet I was running scenarios of how to get the hell out of there. No cell phone, no beacon, just a girlfriend that had limited orienteering skills. Everything turned out to be ok by the next morning but it was a scary situation.
It's these times of being on the edge that stick with you forever. Sure, I remember the amazing landscapes and the bonds made with partners on these trips and they give me a calming feeling. It's the moments on the edge, when brought back to my current thoughts from memory, are the ones that still send a chill up my spine. You can see exactly where you were and how things went down through a 3rd person perspective hovering above you.
It's these times on the edge that make you who you are. Will you show courage and make quick and accurate decisions? Or, will you breakdown, then flail or freeze? Until you are there, especially on the "death edge", I don't think you can truly know who you are. Do you know who you are?