it's a big rock...

Back from another weekend at the center of the universe with plenty of stories to tell.

Walking off Higher Cathedral Rock as it grew dark I felt as dry as a Utah Juniper in August. Half way up the North East Buttress route my partner and I had consumed all of our water. Thankfully, the second half of the climb was in shade, but those chimney surely make you work up a thirst! At the top of the tenth pitch I caught up with two of our friends who were climbing in front of us. Luckily, they had one mouthful of water to share.

After bringing up my partner I screwed on my head for my eleventh and final lead of the day. That last pitch brought a wide hands roof, another cruiser 5.9 roof (the fifth of the day I think), and one final chimney! Leading such a long continuous block of climbing really allowed me to enter into an amazing head space. No wonder climbers are always looking for longer routes and link-ups. When you get into that magic climbing zone the feeling is pure joy!

Anyway, after thrashing through the bushes to get back to our shoes at the base of the route we were worked. As the final light of the day faded I considered the coming boulder field and slippery trail. So thirsty! Hadn't had a drink in hours. By the time we made it over the boulders and onto the final stretch of steep descent over roots and rocks I was feeling pretty sorry for myself.

But then...

I started thinking about a conversation I had at the elementary school where I work. My young kindergarten friend had cut her finger. She was fretting at the pain of washing it out with soap and water. Tears were starting to show in her eyes. Remembering the way she screamed and cried when a lady bug landed on her another day I thought I would try a new approach.

What if I could convince her that the pain was not that bad? That a cut was not worth crying about. Was she too young to categorize pain into a manageable little box? I don't think my experiment really worked for her. She couldn't seem to understand why I wasn't comforting her with words and hugs that she wanted.

Now hiking in the dark I was myself the same question. Can I categorize my own pain? My own confusing thirst and fatigue. Why was I complaining to myself about my dried out tongue and tired limbs? Having all of these thoughts about my own suffering was not doing anything to alleviate them. Slowly I started to direct my mind elsewhere. I thought about others who had really suffered. People crushed by the arm of brutality. Heads cracked and arms broken.

I began to categorize the sensations my body was sending to my mind. They were manageable. Normally I live in a world of comfort where everything and more I could want is all around me. I had just climbed up a 900 feet of difficult granite rock and I was worked. But really I was already on my way back to the road. The car. The water. The comforts of civilized life.

I realized I wasn't really suffering. I was just a little tired and thirsty. Shortly I would be back. I decided to enjoy the pain. I took control of my thoughts and remembered the view of the high country from the top pitch. I imagined myself inside a chimney perched on a chock stone high on the wall. Happy. Climbing. Entering a new mind.

sf weekend

Low pressure system lands over the weekend. Plans for the Valley are postponed.

Hard to complain though...

consider the climbing

Just like other body movement practices climbing reveals itself more and more with repitition. Yoga postures and transitions flow in new ways with each session. Playing the guitar becomes an expression of the internal once the muscle movements are well learned.

Right now I am in one of those lucky moods where my climbing is an expression comfort. Finger locks reveal themselves and all at once I'm connected to the rock through my senses and emotions. My feet find the holds. My body adjusts and moves up the wall with just the right amount of effort.

Not that it is easy to move vertically. Difficulties are encountered. Technique meets power and you move upward with your speaking mind momentarily silenced. This is when the best moments of meditation are combined with a physical intensity that becomes graceful rockclimbing.

The real trick is carrying this memory when you no longer have the rock to guide your body and mind.

weekend warrior

When you get weather like this there is only one place to be: the Valley. With perfect temps and two days to climb we returned to Yosemite for another serving of granite rockclimbing.
Approaching the Nose with the intent to climbing to Dolt Tower we ran into two parties. One team of two was about to rig the fixed lines to Mammoth Ledges and the other fellow from Eastern Europe was looking for the start of the Nose so he could rope-solo the route.

On pitch one of the Nose I quickly gave up trying to free the reachy 10d pin scar moves and instead grabbed the fixed gear hanging right in front of my face. What can I say? Old habits die hard. Allen had better luck on second and managed to make it through with some funky knee bars. The rest of the pitches up to Sickle Ledge were sweet and I really enjoyed cleaning the last traverse to the ledge. Grated the hell out of two knuckles just by brushing them against some super sticky piece of granite.

At the ledge we parked our selves at the belay and watched a show unfold before our eyes. The party with a red portaledge we had spotted while approaching had only managed to move their bags two pitches up. Another party of two was in the process of retreating from the top of the seventh pitch.

Upward progress looked grim for us day climbers so we did the four raps to the ground and walked over to the Manure Pile Buttress. I pulled the mantle roof on the last pitch of Nutcracker just as darkness crept in. Despite the seriously wet pitches and the long waits behind two uber slow climbers the climb was classic. I hope to climb it many more times!

Spring Fling

Just got back from the Valley over the weekend. On Saturday we were up on Serenity Crack and Sons of Yesterday. Was the first pitch of Serenity Crack wet? It wasn't wet. It was green and slimy and dripping. Wow. But anyway it went down and the rest of the climb was even better than I remembered. Talk about splitter.

At the top of the climb, sitting 900 feet above the Awahnee, I watched the gray clouds move and swirl around the Cathedral group. Just before twilight the sun split through the clouds and two planes left white trails against a blue window.

the whole Spring thing

When the trees are pushing green shoots and you see gatherings of this sort you know a new season is in the making. We spotted a bunch of these ladybug clusters hiking back from a day of cragging at the Pinnacles this past Saturday. Here are two more of the ladies initiating an age old rite of spring.






Anyway...Saturday was a good day out at the old Pinnacles. My friend Steve and enjoyed the mild weather and sunshine as we hit up some repeats at the Discovery Wall. The later part of the day saw me leading out on a really fun 5.7 R on the Monolith. You start the climb from the top of a boulder that sits above the caves. The first bold is about fifteen feet up and out hanging over the dark caves below. Fun stuff! From the top of this little treat of a climb we top roped a very fun 5.10a that we will be sure to check out on the sharp end next trip.

Next weekend we are off to Consumme River Gorge on the other side of Sac. We have heard rumors of granite cracks at 1,200' elevation. The forecast is for sunny skies and fun trad leads on Saturday.

Yosemite in January

camp four has never looked so good!!!























half dome, always looking good























january is a good month for climbing























free form snow piece