WEBOLOS

While Elijah was cranking elsewhere in Joshua Tree, I was busy administering the Boy Scout Rock Climbing Merit Badge for a Boy Scout Troop from Ventura. Elijah himself, believe it or not, is an Eagle Scout, so based on his experience, the Rock Climbing Merit Badge=5.13 climbing. Obviously.

Try it for yourself. The Scouts are waiting...

Lizard's Mouth

Heralding in a new season of post-work sessions, Justin, Elijah, Marcela, Kristy, and I hit up Lizard's Mouth in the waning hours of sunset. Temps were frigid—for here. That meant skin and rock—inexplicably—stuck together, resulting in a slew of rad sends. Elijah repeated Gangsta Hippy, and I added a low start to the problem, making it even radder. At least for me. The rest of the day was spent on "Top of the World, Ma" boulder, which has become my favorite Lizard's Mouth locale for hard, sloper problems. I accomplished Bernd's Red Line (Vhard), the sit-start to Top of the World, Ma (Vawkward), and began work on a dire direct line between the two. Think: same jug/crimp start, go straight up. Those pics of me in a heinous heel-hook position? Yeah, that's the one...

Even Bob Banks made an appearance, camera in tow. Thank him for the images.

Lizard's Mouth, at long last...

I hadn't been to Lizard's Mouth since the Gap Fire, which was a long time ago. In fact, it was TWO fires ago, which makes me feel a little bit like an old timer. I'm sure my arthritic cronies and I will wax nostalgic about "dem fires" in years to come. Anyways, instead of making the drive to Vertical Heaven to get a workout, I took advantage of the good weather and drove the all-too-familiar drive to Lizard's Mouth. Immediately, I was reminded of how many people go there on the weekends; I had no trouble finding climbing partners, and I wiled away the afternoon with some extremely quirky UCSB kids. Again, I felt my age, especially when I recommended a bar and they all said "uuhh, we're not 21 yet". Nevertheless, they were hilarious, and eager to climb.

Having not been to a legitimate bouldering locale in AGES, it was fun to feel strong and confident. I easily dispatched Gangsta Hippy (V6?) on my second go, and very nearly did the sit start to Gangsta Hippy (V7?). I also second-goed the sit start to Top-of-the-world-Ma, an exceedingly awkward V6 or 7. To the left of the aforementioned problem, I worked a rad sloper line that felt desperate—but very doable. Probably V7 or something. I don't know, nor do I really care. The climbing was, as I remember it to be in years hence, spectacular.

I'm anxious to go back, actually. If anyone is interested, I'll be thrutching on Thursday from the hours of 4 p.m. to 7 p.m.

Alabama Hills

In a word: slabtastic.

Opting for convenience over notoriety, Bret, Jared, Mara, and I went to Lone Pine for the weekend instead of Bishop. Bret's Dad owns a small cottage just off the main drag, and we bunked up there for a weekend of climbing in the Alabama Hills, a clump of Joshua Tree-esque formations. Apparently, during the Civil War, Lone Pine had significant sympathies with the South, so, naturally, they named the piles of queerly shaped quartz-monzonite after the Alabama, a Confederate Ironclad.

The climbing wasn't world-class, but maybe national-class, or at least west-coast class. I climbed a shit-ton of routes ranging from 5.8 to 5.12, with quality ranging from great to gawdawful. The approach for the Alabama Hills is unbeatable. The crags were literally 4.5 minutes from the door of our cottage (no joke), and we could almost belay from our car. And there was no human detritus from L.A. roaming about; I've rarely climbed in such an area with so few people.

Like I said, the climbing here was slabtastic. As I write this, my hands are not the least bit pumped from two days of climbing, but my calves and quads feel a bit sore. I haven't climbed this much slab and face in a long, long time. And I guess I can still stand on my feet, because I onsighted my first 5.12 face climb (Diamond blade, 5.12a, 6 bolts). Apart from that, I accrued tons of mileage on mostly 5.10 terrain, onsighting a bunch of routes. I know it's kinda silly, but here's a list with do's and don'ts:

Bananarama, 5.8: do
Banana Split, 5.9/5.10: not that great. Don't.
Tall T, 5.10b: do
Dream On, 5.10b: the hardest 5.10b I've ever done. Definitely do.
Diamondblade, 5.12a: do
High Plains Drifter, 5.10b: do
Hang 'em High, 5.10a: do
Shark's Fin Arete, 5.7: awesome. do.
Pirateson on Horseback, 5.10b: eehh. okay.
Fat Black Mama, 5.11: do.
Pop, 5.11a: definitely do
Fizz, 5.10b: do
Slab Route, 5.10a: dirty, but do.
Open Project, 5.13?: effing impossible.

In short, the Alabama Hills are (per the guidebook) "the poor-man's Joshua Tree". The view boggles the mind as well. Mount Whitney towers RIGHT behind you—a la' Buttermilks view—instead of the pervasive L.A. basin haze, like in J-tree.

Borrowed Time

Us Tor climbers are climbing on borrowed time. It's February, and the rock isn't seeping yet—which it should be by now. As such, conditions were once again great. Elijah looked fit on Atreyu, even though no, he didn't redpoint. He did, however, one-hang Better Than Life, which is no slouch of an effort, especially after not climbing on it for a handful of months. Micah and Bridget also came, as well as Bridget's dog, Bosco, who decided very early in the day that his nose was bound for my crotch. If I wasn't on the wall, or being lowered, I spent my time doubled over, hands defending my nether-regions. I'm sure the pleasure was all yours, Bosco. Maybe next time we can get to know each other first.

Adding some entertainment to the day, a slew of SLO climbers descended on the Tor. Per our usual experience with SLO folk, bizarre and unaccountable activities were observed. We witnessed no less than FIVE ground-scraping or ground-smacking lead falls, as well as several very, very near misses (One guy almost fell with the rope twisted around his neck. Go figure.). Still, they were all nice guys, and besides the safety-poster scenarios, the shredding index was low.

I had my best day ever at the Tor (I know, I said that last week). I redpointed five different routes, and projected The Old Pro Skill (5.12d+). That climb rankles the best of us. I've even heard it rated 5.12d/5.13c (thanks, Bob). Whatever. It's still a great route, and I took some rather sizable whippers off the top. I'm going to have to earn every bit of that route.

Here's the rundown:

The Power of Eating, 5.11d: redpoint
Auto Magic, 5.12a: redpoint
When the Sea Doesn't Want You, 5.12a: redpoint
Hell of the Upside Down Sinners, 5.12b: redpoint
The Natural, 5.12c: redpoint
The Old Pro Skill: clean to the last bolt, then... I got tired?






We're climbing on borrowed time

Thank you Tor, may I have another...

It's not often that the Tor and one's body feel good at the same time. We've all done it: cranked hard during the week, buit up expectations, fostered redpoint hope, and then utterly FAILED at the Tor. And then there are those days where you feel so awful on the drive to Santa Maria that you almost ask Phil to drop you off at In-N-Out so you can whither away the day pounding Animal Style fries. This last Saturday began somewhere in between "blah" and "great". Justin and I arrived at the Tor ahead of Phil and the crew, and we tried to warm up on Power, which was particularly cold after 34 degree temps the night before. The jugs after the ledge were ice-cubes, and I almost fell off the top because my fingers wouldn't kick-start. But as the day progressed, the air grew warmer, and VOILA, perfect conditions: cold rock, warm ambient air temps.

Thus, I redpointed not one, but TWO of my projects, in addition to running 8 laps over the length of the day.

No Skill (5.12c) went down on my third try, and The Natural (5.12c) took two attempts. Thank you, Tor, for not smiting my ruin upon the hillside that day. If anyone knows the proper Tor-oblation, I will gladly oblige.

Here's the rundown of this all-too-rare day:

Power of Eating (5.11d): redpoint
Auto-Magic (5.12a): redpoint
No Skill (5.12c): redpoint
The Natural (5.12c): redpoint
Hell of the Upside Down Sinners (5.12b): 1-hang

Campusing: the purest form of climbing (so says Phil Requist)

It's been a wee while since I last posted. A bought of sickness and slough of work interfered with recreational blogging. However, no news isn't necessarily bad news, and I've had a fun—if not ostensibly productive—couple of climbing weeks. In several trips to the Tor this month, I've gotten on The Natural (5.12c), No Skill (5.12c), and Chips Ahoy (5.12d)—all of which are well within redpoint range. It feels well nigh productive to get on "hard" routes like these and to not flail my way to the top. I at least two-hung all three routes, and could realistically redpoint The Natural and No Skill this weekend. I'm not optimistic about Chips, however, because that route defies all human hope. And it clubs baby seals in its spare time.

In other news, I'm campusing quite a bit, along with Phil and Elijah. I love it; it's so simple, dynamic, and focused. I'm training per suggestions from Mr. British himself, Ben Moon. His website is a treasure trove of training tips and there are ample testimonies from the pasty, freckled English lads who have benefited from those tips. I am drinking black tea and eating a steady diet of scones with the hopes that I can do 1-4-7 on the campus rungs next week.