tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29277044990969377672024-03-19T01:42:09.756-07:00Little did I know...Steep learning curves are fun!Terroarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18109630926584464328noreply@blogger.comBlogger105125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2927704499096937767.post-48291032716600455352021-12-28T16:32:00.001-08:002021-12-28T16:32:06.426-08:00Lamont Pinnacles and Bald Eagle Peak<p>We were feeling ambitious on a long late fall weekend and managed to visit two places I'd been wanting to check out for a while. <br /><br />The first was the Lamont Pinnacles, which I had been jonesing to visit since camping near Chimney Peak Recreational Area earlier in the year. </p><p>(Interlude: On that early Spring 2021 trip I'd gone out to Long Valley, hiked along the creek to a point just short of where it joins the South Fork of the Kern, and dealt with both ice and many many ticks on the trail. I camped overnight in my still-new-feeling Subaru and ate beans that I reheated in a small cast iron cook pot that I was testing for the first time. It was a mid-pandemic trip that really helped me reset and blow off some steam.)<br /><br />The Lamont Pinnacles trail was relatively easy to follow, but steep. It was exactly what we needed to feel like we'd accomplished something. We turned around just short of the gully that separates the mountain you're doing most of the hike on from the Pinnacles proper. One of the fun aspects of the hike was that the destination isn't visible from most of it, so it is a real reward when it appears. However, throughout the hike, the views of Canebrake and the valley further are absolutely spectacular.</p>
<a data-flickr-embed="true" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/slampoud/51744662907/in/dateposted-public/" title="PXL_20211112_230028278"><img alt="PXL_20211112_230028278" height="480" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/51744662907_b1dc69caac_z.jpg" width="640" /></a><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//embedr.flickr.com/assets/client-code.js"></script><div><br /></div><div>The next destination we managed to hit was Bald Eagle Peak off Saddle Springs Road. I've been wanting to head up there for a while now, but my previous car wasn't up to the task. The Subaru did great, and I even had a chance to play with X-Mode on the descent, which was fantastic. There's lots of sharp rocks on that road, so I was pretty worried about my stock tires, but didn't actually have any issues. Eagle Peak has a bunch of sport climbing routes on it, so this was technically a climb scouting trip. The trail was pretty easy to follow, though we went out on top of the ridge and returned on a trail on the back of the ridge. We don't know which one is technically the correct one -- we suspect the one on the back. We don't have beta for the routes and they look *hard*, plus the notion of climbing there is complicated by access considerations: the road is closed during wet season, but the location faces South and is probably sweltering during the drier months of the year. Regardless, it's a gorgeous chunk of rock and highly motivating. We'll keep digging for beta.</div><div><br /></div>
<a data-flickr-embed="true" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/slampoud/51744661702/in/dateposted-public/" title="PXL_20211113_211740332"><img alt="PXL_20211113_211740332" height="480" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/51744661702_62898ce285_z.jpg" width="640" /></a><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//embedr.flickr.com/assets/client-code.js"></script>Terroarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18109630926584464328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2927704499096937767.post-6621073302724720352018-08-06T09:23:00.001-07:002018-08-06T11:02:17.598-07:00TR: early August sail to Santa Cruz Island<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I'm going to move blogging about Mental Physics, my Olson 25, here, since I don't feel like it's worth a separate blog. There's some backstory about the boat that I might fill in, when I get the chance, for instructional purposes. In the meantime...<br />
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Ben and I made it out to Santa Cruz Island from SB for the first time on Mental. (We'd done one trip to Yellowbanks and one to Scorpion last year from CIH.) We took off around 10am on Saturday. The wind filled in for real around 1pm, and we reached SC near Lady's and sailed down the coast (reef + #2) in big swells, poked into Fry's where we found three sailboats anchored, but kept going East because the forecast for the next day was for high winds and I didn't want to deal with it on the way back on Sunday. We found E Twin Harbor empty and dropped anchor in the middle, with a stern rode to the beach at high tide. Overnight there were periods that were comfortable, and a few hours when swells reflected off the SW corner of the cove and made the motion of the boat pretty uncomfortable.<br />
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When I was coming back from swimming the stern rode ashore, I surprised four bat rays who took off right and left. The other critters in the cove were spotted (presumably harbor) seals, who swam from kelp bunch to kelp bunch and popped out up to their chests whenever we did something interesting, like put in the kayak. I also saw a dark brown bird with a bright red beak that I'd never seen before, which I think was a black Oystercatcher. Sea surface temp was 73 F on Saturday evening and 71 F on Saturday morning, in other words: balmy.<br />
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We left Sunday at 11am, thinking the wind was filling in, but didn't get consistent wind until about noon. We saw a mola mola in the SB traffic lane, and two enormous container ships in the NB lane. The wind shut off 5 nm from SB, and I caught nothing trolling greenie. We were back at the slip by 4:30pm. </div>
Terroarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18109630926584464328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2927704499096937767.post-7297172204565108852015-04-13T21:36:00.002-07:002015-04-13T21:37:31.532-07:00One more Red Rock<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Jason and I were at Red Rocks this past weekend. On Saturday we started by doing a mish-mash of a trad route: Jason led most of the first pitch of Splitting Hares to the first belay of Too Many Tantrums. I then led the second pitch and most of the third pitch of Too Many Tantrums, back to the roof and traverse of Splitting Hares. Got lost a bit above the roof, downclimbed and traversed. Super fun!<br />
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Then we moved to my old friend, Pauligk Pillar. There I had to over-protect the first few moves, resulting in a mid-route belay stop, and Jason led the second portion of the pitch. We weren't feeling the second pitch, AGAIN, so we hiked out to make the 8pm exit time.<br />
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On Sunday we played on Panty Wall, then went down to the Hamlet, got schooled on one of the lower tier sport routes, did an upper tier 7, and tried for a lower tier toprope, which proved uninspiring. Overall a good day to stretch out the soreness!</div>
Terroarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18109630926584464328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2927704499096937767.post-2452405394239057872015-01-05T01:03:00.001-08:002015-01-05T01:03:03.573-08:00A paragraph about suffering<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I enjoyed <a href="http://www.outsideonline.com/fitness/mental-conditioning/The-One-Day-a-Year-Fitness-Plan-Misogi.html">this article</a> in Outside magazine about Misogi. This paragraph about what my older mountaineering friends call "suffering" struck me as particularly accurate: <br /><br /><blockquote class="tr_bq">
But something funny happens once you’ve been in the grip of a painful ordeal for a certain amount of time. Namely, the body and mind—inured to the unwelcome task they’ve been set upon—mostly stop fighting it. Resisting takes too much energy. It cannot be sustained. And, gradually, in place of my instinctive resistance came an active kind of relaxation and acceptance.</blockquote>
This definitely happens to me when backpacking or approaching climbs in the mountains. Invariably I'm in pain of some kind -- my knees, my shoulders from the pack, altitude, it's always something -- and I just grind on and on. It's slightly different from paddling, which puts me in a distinct zone I call "machine" mode, where I'm lustily pounding at some physically exerting thing for hours with my brain finally shut up.</div>
Terroarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18109630926584464328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2927704499096937767.post-231376360584168082014-10-27T18:52:00.002-07:002014-10-27T18:52:46.837-07:00Climbing recap for most of 2014<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Wow, I look back and realize I owe more than a year's worth of climbing updates. Yikes!<br />
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So, last summer and fall I remember doing the following: </div>
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<li>climbing <i>Summer Sojourn</i> with Anil, me getting really bad nausea from wearing new, distorting sunglasses, and him getting a food allergy after we got down, but not before encountering a massive rattlesnake on the descent trail!</li>
<li>training to increase my knees' endurance and my altitude tolerance on the Cathedral lakes trail, </li>
<li>climbing on Dozier Dome (was it <i>Holdless Horror</i>?) with Josh, </li>
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<li>making another attempt on <i>BCS</i> with Josh and Terri,</li>
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<li>climbing (and getting hailed on!) at <i>Clark Canyon</i> with Theresa.</li>
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Then I started a new job right after BCS, and late fall 2013 and winter is a <b>blur</b>.<br />
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In spring Theresa and I started training a bit more in earnest, and went out to New Jack City a few times.<br />
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In early summer we made a trip to Dome Rock and I took Theresa up her first trad multi-pitch, <i>Tree Route</i>. We also did <i>Permanent Income Hypothesis</i> a couple times, with T. leading, and all the time I was training in the gym with Jason and Anil.<br />
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Jason, Theresa and I teamed up for a Tuolumne weekend in which I led <i>West Country</i> on Stately Pleasure Dome, and then we practiced crack climbing at guide cracks the next day.<br />
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And in October Theresa and I went to Red Rocks where we played on the <i>Panty Wall</i> the first day, T. led <i>Big Bad Wolf </i>on day 2, and I led the first pitch of <i>Ragged Edges</i> on day 3. We were having too much fun to take pics :)<br />
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So, it's been a slow year, mostly due to the new job and due to the project of moving Koan up to the Bay Area taking up so many weekends, but not altogether a bad year!</div>
Terroarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18109630926584464328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2927704499096937767.post-3704181460201334072013-03-08T12:44:00.000-08:002013-03-08T12:52:46.654-08:00Fall & Winter recap<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhAhoOcn4EDVXmVDBmMOKGY-WZcEWJo038OVn5TSVexDPI3AZ0OmgLuti6wLCC11hShcVuNcrKWs8mv9scGnU10RvCp8DNEAc72q99fCnTsIkFmNH0WJOgH6XU8qmsr96wyzCR1mf-vYRP/s1600/IMG_0934.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhAhoOcn4EDVXmVDBmMOKGY-WZcEWJo038OVn5TSVexDPI3AZ0OmgLuti6wLCC11hShcVuNcrKWs8mv9scGnU10RvCp8DNEAc72q99fCnTsIkFmNH0WJOgH6XU8qmsr96wyzCR1mf-vYRP/s320/IMG_0934.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Dima on the approach to Purblind</div>
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Lest the reader (hi, all 3 of you!) think that there has been no climbing this past fall and winter, I would like to submit that I did do two trips. One was to Red Rocks in early November with Dima, then hooking up with the Minnesota crew, and the second was to JTree with part of the aforementioned MN crew.<br />
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In Red Rocks we climbed Purblind Pillar on Angel Food wall. It was great, but the whole time I was thinking how we should have been doing Tunnel Vision, because that looked amazing. Stilgar's Wild Ride and Group Therapy also looked awesome, so they are definitely on my tick list. The descent was quite Olympus-like, though. Definitely plan some extra time for that. On the second day I screwed up our approach beta and we overshot the area where we were supposed to meet the MN crew (wherever Great Red Book is, which is now also on my tick list). So after a bunch of wandering around and figuring it out, we decided to head to Ice Box canyon to investigate, since it seemed like a reasonably warm day. We got on Shady Ladies (meh) and Cold September Corner (insane!), and it *was* really cold in the shade. The trip was topped off by a huge thing puncturing my brand new Yoko tires, which irked me to no end. But thankfully by Monday morning I was able to find a place that could patch it, for free, to boot, and head on home.<br />
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The second trip to JTree was a bit impromptu, when I found out that my peeps from MN were heading out there for a weekend. We did the Eye, Stichter Quits, whatever the route with the one bolt is a bit to the left of that, and top-roped Battle of the Bulge. And had glorious glorious Indian food, which was at least as good as the routes.<br />
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So, in spite of two long international trips, getting sick three times, and shit-tons of work, I did manage to get out twice. Score!</div>
Terroarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18109630926584464328noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2927704499096937767.post-84698443026677969392013-01-16T15:13:00.002-08:002013-01-16T16:11:49.664-08:00False positives suck<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I've been holding out on writing about my recent sailing trip from the Galapagos to Panama City, because during the trip there was an occurrence that seriously rattled me, disturbed my crew-mates and generally marred a trip that had begun and promised to continue in a very chilled out atmosphere. I was dealing with the aftermath of that event until just now, when I got off the phone. Not wanting to tell an incomplete story, I suppose that now that that aftermath has concluded, I can go ahead.<br />
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<b>On the second day of our passage my SPOT satellite messenger malfunctioned. </b>I am frankly exhausted hearing about, re-telling, writing down and trying to intellectually and emotionally process what ensued, so I cannot bring myself to put it all down in detail one more time here. I'm sorry. I'm sure if I were a good journalist, it would spin an excellent yarn. And there are obviously a number of very very serious implications, so maybe we can talk about those in the comments, or on twitter, or something -- I'm pretty sure I know all of the 4 people who follow this blog personally -- because it's the implications that matter.<br />
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I had been using the SPOT the way I usually do, pressing OK once a day, to let my partner (via text & email) and my parents (via the website) know that all was well. I've used the SPOT this way for about 14 months, maybe 3-4 trips. Well, on New Year's Day, instead of transmitting an OK, the SPOT freaked out and started transmitting a spurious stream of "Help" and occasional "Cancelled" messages. Take a second to think about that. Deep breath. Continue. 25 minutes later, unaware that anything was amiss, I tried to turn off the device, as I always do, to save the batteries. It wouldn't turn off, so I thought, "wtf?", popped off the back and took out the batteries. That did it. That's when the random stream of "Help" messages stopped.<br />
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Several hours later, via a call from US Coast Guard to the boat's sat-phone -- which was not configured to take incoming phone calls, thereby blowing the skipper's mind -- we found out that my partner, my parents, the US, Ecuadorean and Greek Coast Guards and my private medevac insurance provider, Global Rescue, had all spent the previous few hours trying to ascertain my well being, looping in a half dozen additional minor players in the process. Had the USCG not magically been able to raise us on a sat-phone (one that has never in the past had and never in the future will have another incoming call -- magic!) the next step that was being proposed was to scramble a C130 spotter plane. Once the USCG reached us, the situation was put to sleep quickly and in an orderly fashion.<br />
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So, some distilled thoughts:<br />
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1) My partner and I have a protocol that we discuss in advance of each trip for how to respond to each of the possible SPOT messages (OK, Help, SOS and "custom", which we use as "cancel the protocol"). The protocol is basically the same in most use-cases (sailing on my boat, sailing on other boats and climbing), with small changes for what agencies to loop in. The protocol we had in place worked perfectly, so in hindsight we can look at this as a fire drill. Our agreed "Help" response is to wait two hours for an OK (thereby canceling the "Help") or an SOS (thereby immediately escalating it). That is, "Help" is what I'm supposed to push when there's something going wrong, and I am worried that I will not have a chance to press SOS later, but I'm working the situation at the moment, so there is no immediate need for assistance. E.g. the boat is heading for the rocks, but I'm trying to get an anchor down; or I've gone overboard, but I'm tethered and trying to get back on; or my partner's slid down a couloir, and I'm glissading down to check them out myself. If everything works out, I will press OK later. If things go to hell, I will press SOS. If I don't press either, two hours after the Help, my partner will assume that things have not gone well and that help is needed, and escalate to the SOS protocol. Even though in this case the "Help" message was sent as a result of hardware malfunction, there was no way my partner could have known, and there was nothing that he could or should have done differently. Our escalation strategy (first confirm the message with SPOT, then start looping in agencies and Global Rescue one by one, and follow their instructions) was correct. I would highly recommend that anyone who seriously uses SPOT plan their protocol in advance, together with the people who will have to enact it.<br />
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1b) I did learned something from a mistake I made. The moral: consider not having Help and SOS messages appear in your public mapping page. I normally don't have them appear, but I stupidly enabled them just for this trip, for no reason at all. The only person familiar with the abovementioned protocol was my partner, who was receiving messages directly, but my parents were also following along on the mapping page. Ideally, in case of Help and SOS, my partner should have been the only one to act. But through a time-zone vagary, my parents happened to look at the mapping page right after the spurious Help messages began. Thankfully, they contacted my partner first and he was able to more or less restrain them from taking actions outside the protocol. Mostly. The looping in of Greek Coast Guard was of their doing. In the end it proved invaluable in getting in touch with the UK Boat Registration Authority, through whom the sat-phone number was located and passed to US Coast Guard. But that's neither here nor there. I suppose my point is: choose whether you want just your protocol people, or the whole world to know about your Help and SOS messages, and set up your mapping page accordingly.<i></i></div>
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2) The agencies that my partner and parents contacted (US, Greek and Ecuadorean Coast Guard, Global Rescue) treated the SPOT "Help" message as credible. Nobody at any point suggested that the device had a track record of false positives or was unreliable in the least. That, at least, is heartening. <br />
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3) These agencies are AMAZING. They are total pros. They apparently did an incredible job sorting it all out, and interfacing with each other, and they were completely unfazed (the same cannot be said of some of the private parties involved) when it turned out to have been a malfunction. Treat these first responders with courtesy and respect, and they will save your hide. As first world citizens, we are so fortunate to have them available to back us up.<br />
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4) In the end, while the OK-mode for the SPOT is convenient and nice to have, I WILL NEVER USE IT AGAIN. I can understand how a device might fail to work, that is, how it can fail OFF. But I now know that an un-abused, un-wetted, comfortable SPOT can, for no apparent reason at all, fail ON. I cannot possibly take the chance that, while I'm just trying to say "Hi, I'm here, I'm OK", it will accidentally report me as being in distress, distressing all my people, in turn, and potentially launching a rescue. Screw the convenience and novelty of saying "I'm OK". The bottom line: I cannot do without SOS. I can do without OK. But then why own a SPOT instead of, say, a Personal Locator Beacon of some kind? But also, is the implication that people must personally experience a false positive before they realize that the risks associated with OK-mode are not worth it? And are false positives like this not bound to erode first responder confidence, in the long run? The answer to these questions depends on the specifics of the statistical distribution of false positives -- i.e. are they rare events, or are they significant (my data point: ~1/40 OKs turned into a false stream of Helps; that is *horrible*, statistically)? I hope, for the sake of those of us who may have to use a SPOT in a real emergency some day, that SPOT is doing its homework.<br />
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The final chapter in all this is SPOT's response. I wrote them a report of the incident, and said I wanted two things: a) for them to investigate the incident and learn something from it, and b) a replacement device, even though mine was 2 months out of warranty, and even though I vowed never to press OK again. Two days later a customer service agent called me who was obviously completely unaware of the implications of my story. She suggested that I pay $50 for a replacement device and initially had no comment on my sending it in for an investigation. I said that they could either send me a new device for free or cancel my account. She acquiesced and promised they would be sending me a warranty RMA email, with an address to which to mail the faulty device, and would be sending new a device. I pressed her on what kind of investigation they would conduct on the old device, but didn't get anything other than an assurance that they, in fact, would conduct one.<br />
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I think a chunk of the serenity prayer is relevant here...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Serene sunset, near the equator.</td></tr>
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Terroarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18109630926584464328noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2927704499096937767.post-17846928966546057902012-11-28T18:41:00.001-08:002012-11-28T18:47:55.405-08:00Pregnant ... with project<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/slampoud/7528152756/" title="At the canyon"><img alt="At the canyon by slampoud" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8166/7528152756_2d39e787a9.jpg" /></a><br />
<span style="margin: 0;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/slampoud/7528152756/">At the canyon</a>, a photo by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/slampoud/">slampoud</a> on Flickr.</span></div>
“When you are inspired by some great purpose, some extraordinary project, all your thoughts break their bonds; Your mind transcends limitations, your consciousness expands in every direction, and you find yourself in a new, great and wonderful world. Dormant forces, faculties and talents become alive, and you discover yourself to be greater person by far than you ever dreamed yourself to be. “<br />
– Patanjali (borrowed from <a href="http://www.mayanclimbs.com/">Mayan Smith Gobat's blog</a>)<br />
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So heart-full, and so much to catch up on, and how to put it in words?<br />
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A bit over a year ago a clock started ticking. I think of it as somewhat equivalent to some women's "biological clock": insistent, persistent, looming large. In my case the yearning was, simply, for a place of my own. And not just to own it, but to *own* it, to know every molecule, preferably to have been responsible for the location of most of the molecules! I am very fortunate to have a beautiful rented roof over my head, and my dream sailboat as my woman-cave. But I gluttonously craved a bit of outside, a dry spot under a big rock, a gazebo, a dilapidated cabin, a big hearty tree, *someplace* on dry land to call my own. <br />
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After about a year of searching, waiting, and hand-wringing, I finally took the leap. That's the spot in the photo. I knew it was the place the minute -- near sundown, in late winter -- I stepped out of the car and inhaled the view. My citicard's unreasonably high credit limit, and post-holiday 0% financing ("to pay for Christmas indiscretions") did the rest. <br />
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So this is my new obsession: a bit of dirt, and what to do with it. I've decided to build a "cabin" (a shed, really), and I've spent the last three weeks or so obsessing full time (though I've been obsessing part time since I bought the land). <br />
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So I know this blog is usually about climbing, but I think building a shed (close to one of the world's best climbing locations, the Needles, to boot) is also well within the "little did I know..." class of things for me. So in the next few days I'll be sharing some thoughts about how I picked the location (e.g. climbing considerations!), how I've been going about getting from 0 to 60 on the subject of sheds and building (with links), and other stuff along this vein. <br />
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And before I forget, an attribution for the quote: I was reading <a href="http://www.mayanclimbs.com/">Mayan Smith Gobat's blog</a> this morning, and she had this (and another quote by Leo Buscaglia, a favorite of mine!) on her "philosophy" page. It suits me very much at the moment!</div>
Terroarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18109630926584464328noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2927704499096937767.post-4082764343673109562012-07-09T13:18:00.001-07:002012-07-09T13:20:36.551-07:00Sherman Peak<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/slampoud/7528155490/" title="Huckles on Sherman Peak"><img alt="Huckles on Sherman Peak by slampoud" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8150/7528155490_91521990bb.jpg" /></a><br />
<span style="margin: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/slampoud/7528155490/">Huckles on Sherman Peak</a>, a photo by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/slampoud/">slampoud</a> on Flickr.</span></div>
This past weekend my goal was to spend some time hiking with my pooch, and to do it at altitude, so as to acclimate for an upcoming (I hope) high altitude ascent project a friend and I have in the works (wink wink!). Indeed Hucks and I made it up Sherman Peak, which is 9909 ft tall, via the 5 mile r.t., ~1000 ft elevation gain trail from Sherman Pass Rd. The trailhead was full of mountain bikers, so for a moment I was terrified it would be a very unpleasant experience, but they went downhill and we headed uphill and it all worked out! A big question in my mind was whether dogs feel altitude the same way humans do, and I think the answer is: yes. Huckles slowed down considerably as we progressed on the trail. I was huffing and puffing very badly myself. So now I have to think about acclimating the dog as well as myself for any future shenanigans.</div>Terroarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18109630926584464328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2927704499096937767.post-34982112846721269142012-06-12T08:34:00.001-07:002012-06-12T08:39:36.825-07:00Dome Rock & Kernville Slab<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/slampoud/7365546564/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="Jason at the top of Claustrophobia"><img alt="Jason at the top of Claustrophobia by slampoud" height="320" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7227/7365546564_aa23862237.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<span style="margin: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/slampoud/7365546564/">Jason at the top of Claustrophobia</a>, a photo by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/slampoud/">slampoud</a> on Flickr.</span></div>
This past weekend my friend Jason, who now lives in the Bay area, and I were planning to spend some time plugging in gear. The original plan was to spend a day running up and down Tree Route on Dome Rock, then go down to Voodoo Dome and do Summer Sojourn, then further down to Kern Slab. <br />
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We met on Friday night at Quaking Aspen campground, which I'd always bypassed in years before. It turns out that campground is absolutely beautiful, and a great meeting spot if someone in the party has never been up in the Needles area before, and is arriving in the middle of the night. <br />
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The next morning we headed out to <a href="http://mountainproject.com/v/dome-rock/105834204">Dome Rock</a>. I first led <a href="http://mountainproject.com/v/tree-route/105843991">Tree Route</a>, which is really as much fun as you can have at the 5.6 grade. We dilly dallied a bit on top, and then headed back down so that Jason could lead it, for his first trad lead. Unfortunately there was a slow party up ahead, who'd gotten some gear stuck at the first belay and were refusing to let it go, so we couldn't leave the ground. Eventually I yelled up at them that we'd bring their gear to them, if only they'd get going and let us climb! While hanging out at the base we met another party who started up right behind us and did Anti-Jello crack to our left, as Jason led Tree Route. He had no problems with the leading, except that the slab on the last pitch turned him off, so I finished that one. <br />
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We left for the low road around 4, I think, but when we got to about 5 miles before Needlerock creek, there was a sign on the road and a ranger in a truck, saying the road was closed due to a fire a few miles down. They could at least have put up a sign at Johnsondale, so we didn't have to drive the 15 windy miles to the road block!<br />
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At that point my mind was fried for dealing with logistics, so we headed down to my favorite brewing company in Kernville, for burgers, beer and internet access. We threw around a bunch of ideas -- Crystal Crag, Cathedral Peak -- but coming on the heels of driving to San Diego and back in a day, and the detour of Friday night (I-5 was closed), I was not really up for much more driving. We decided to bivy under <a href="http://mountainproject.com/v/kernville-rock-aka-kern-slabs/106278927">Kern slab</a>, and revisit the issue in the morning. <br />
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In the morning, since the slab was right there, and in shade, to boot, we decided to head up. I led the <a href="http://mountainproject.com/v/the-lieback/106278930">Lieback</a>, which I'd followed twice before, but never led, with one take to rest up and make sure I don't blow the crux. It was one of the coolest leads I've done, even if, technically, it's the lowest rated one. That is the most ridiculous sandbag in the world! At the top of the Lieback we went right, and Jason led a little hand traverse + chimney to the anchors for <a href="http://mountainproject.com/v/claustrophobia-crack/107216917">Claustrophobia</a>. Then we rapped down the slab. Then he led the 5.7 pillar section of the <a href="http://mountainproject.com/v/chouinard-special/106450439">Chouinard Special</a>, and we played a bit on the knife-thin crack below that anchor. Eventually it got really hot and we headed down to the river, stopped for Mexican food at K-ville and called it a trip, leaving a day early. My calves were killing me after 12 pitches! But, hey, this was an off-the-couch trip for both of us, and I'd call it a very successful one!</div>Terroarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18109630926584464328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2927704499096937767.post-19464196580817526942012-02-13T14:07:00.001-08:002012-02-13T14:07:25.043-08:00Kern Slabs<div style="margin: 0 0 10px 0; padding: 0; font-size: 0.8em; line-height: 1.6em;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/slampoud/6867155119/" title="On the Kern Slabs"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7047/6867155119_0731a67cc7.jpg" alt="On the Kern Slabs by slampoud" /></a><br />
<span style="margin: 0;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/slampoud/6867155119/">On the Kern Slabs</a>, a photo by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/slampoud/">slampoud</a> on Flickr.</span></div><p>This weekend Dima and I stopped for some wine tasting (at Blair Fox and Sanford) on the way to the Kern Slabs. On Saturday we climbed the first pitches of the Lieback and the Chouinard Special, and TRed the Thin Cracks and Initiation Crack (which I still can't even start!). On Sunday we climbed Claustrophobia and TRed Dirty Dishes. Lieback and Claustrophobia have to be two of my favorite climbs ever!</p>Terroarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18109630926584464328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2927704499096937767.post-91485625599264129602012-02-07T09:01:00.000-08:002012-02-07T09:01:40.086-08:00JTree<div>This season has been a JTree season, beginning with the 3rd annual #jtreetweetup, continuing with a pre-Christmas trip and, most recently, with last weekend. </div><div><br /></div><div>The #jtreetweetup was, as always, wonderful. I drove with Chad and his little daughter, and we met up with a few of the old crew and many new folks, at Ryan Campground. We got rained on all Saturday, so we spent it working out the approach beta for Mental Physics, which was fun. Sunday was glorious, and I finally got to follow the two face climbs on the Headstone. </div><div><br /></div><div>The pre-Christmas trip to JTree was marred by food poisoning, that I brought with me from SB. I spent a couple days sick as a dog, a day belaying only, and on the last day Dima and I went out to Mental Physics, where he led that, and we top-roped Dazed and Confused, to its left. Both were fantastic routes!</div><div><br /></div><div>Finally this past weekend Dima and I drove out, stayed in Ryan and he led Light Sabre (in the Geology Tour area) and Double-Cross on Saturday. On Sunday we played on Big Bob's Big Wedge (as you can see from the video) and then climbed Tranquility, on the Moosedog Tower in Indian Cove. All in all, a great weekend!</div><div><br /></div><a href="http://goo.gl/photos/8M5Ahs9SCY" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:1em"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-PsVKjKOFiIs/TzBRYE6cysI/AAAAAAAABXQ/GrHd5W_V-yM/s512/MVI_0313.jpg" /></a>Terroarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18109630926584464328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2927704499096937767.post-18202144675344424572011-10-04T10:28:00.001-07:002011-10-04T10:46:24.139-07:00We went, we saw, we didn't climb<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="font-size: 0.8em; line-height: 1.6em; margin: 0 0 10px 0; padding: 0;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/slampoud/6198805052/" title="IMG_0113"><img alt="IMG_0113 by slampoud" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6128/6198805052_d67b35ac42.jpg" /></a><br />
<span style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/slampoud/6198805052/">That's Bear Creek Spire on the upper right.</a>, a photo by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/slampoud/">slampoud</a> on Flickr.</span></div>Ben and I decided we wanted to attempt Bear Creek Spire. We both have the High Sierra Climbing supertopo, and we both looked at it and decided that we liked the idea of a destination that had two alternatives from which to choose: the 5.8 North Arete, and the low 5th class Northeast Ridge. <br />
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We had been planning to go about a month ago, but ended up going to Courtright Reservoir instead, because we couldn't get permits for overnight stay at the Little Lakes trailhead. Last week looked like the last opportunity of unequivocally good weather in the Sierras (this week the storms begin), so we headed out there mid-week to attempt our objective. <br />
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For me this trip came a week after spending a week at Banff National Park, so I was still somewhat acclimated to higher elevations. Ben was coming straight from sea level. I was essentially taking a long weekend in the middle of the week, so we had to do the whole trip in three days, including the getting there and back.<br />
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We took off Tuesday morning and got to the Little Lakes trailhead, overnight permit in hand, around 4pm. Backpacking up to Gem Lakes took a couple hours, so when we got there we decided to stop, make dinner while we still had some daylight left, and overnight there. Gem Lakes Valley is possibly the most beautiful place I've ever been, and, on top of that, the trail to continue up to Dade Lake was not obvious, so I had no objections to staying, though my legs were definitely good to go for a while longer.<br />
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The next morning we got a leisurely start, based solely on the time it took for the sun to peek over Morgan Mt. to our east, and hit our campsite. We were off and searching for a trail to Dade Lake by 9am, loaded only with climbing gear, and planning to hit the easier Ridge, instead of the arete. <br />
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It turns out that there really is no "trail" as such. We learned from the book that we should look for a steep talus slope, of which there is exactly one, so there was little ambiguity there. But nothing we had read prepared us for <b>2.5 hours</b> of steep, unmarked talus to Dade Lake. Having previously had near-injuries while slogging in talus, I consider it the worst possible terrain to be in during the last part of a tired descent. I was completely demoralized by how long and hard the upward talus slog had been, by the fact that we'd have to do it again, in reverse, and super tired, possibly in the dark, at the end of our day, and, finally, by the fact that there was no way we would ever have managed this talus ascent with full backpacks the night before. It felt like we had done something definitely wrong, but we were definitely following directions right.<br />
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By the time we got to Dade Lake I was pretty sure I wasn't up for the rest of the day as we had planned it. We would next have to traverse a snow field, then more talus for over another hour, before reaching the base of the climb. Then we'd climb for 5 or so hours, then we'd have to descend by glissading down a snow gully, and slog talus for 3 more hours to get back. Given our 11:30am arrival at Dade Lake, we were looking at finishing our glissade, with three more hours to go, around nightfall.<br />
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Throughout all our preparations it had not occurred to me that what we were planning was actually a <b>mountaineering</b>, and not a climbing trip. The guidebook and websites we'd consulted made it sound like on some trips, some times of year, some people chose to bring snow gear (ice axes and crampons). We were in what I would consider the absolute end of the local summer and, in my non-expert opinion, snow gear was <b>necessary</b>. I was completely uncomfortable with the idea of crossing that snow field without traction, and of glissading down the gully without an ice axe. Couple that with the late start and lack of relevant fitness (i.e. lack of ability to go on autopilot on talus at 11,500 ft for 6 hours, and have faith that I'm not going to miss a step and land on my face, or overturn a boulder and end up with a crushed ankle, both of which I've *almost* done in the past), there was no choice, for me, at least, but to bail on the plan.<br />
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I don't know what Ben's process was, but I was pretty annoyed that I had to deal with his long and silent inner struggle. It was completely clear to me -- and it did not diminish me or my self esteem at all! -- that we had bitten off more than we could chew, and had underestimated this project.<br />
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Given that the talus ascent had been so miserable, and that we thought we couldn't do it with full backpacks, if we ever chose to return, it was time to make lemonade, and try to find a better way down (or up, for the future). We descended into Treasure Lakes Valley, then down towards Long Lake following the fishermen's path. This trail is actually mentioned in the supertopo, but not recommended, because it is supposedly longer and has more talus (!!!). It took us the same amount of time, so if it's longer it's only marginally so, and I thought it was slightly more pleasant, as far as talus goes. We paid close attention to the maps and terrain, and we think that we've found a way to get from Gem Lakes to Dade Lake by traveling cross country, following the ridge immediately East of Treasure Lakes. Since, next time around, we will be seeking to minimize our distance from Bear Creek Spire, in order to shorten the climbing day and avoid talus travel at the end of it, it will be important to get all the way to Dade Lake. So this ridge is the only option we think we can handle, with full backpacks...<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/slampoud/6198799406/" title="IMG_0100 by slampoud, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0100" height="375" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6174/6198799406_0c3d360e57.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />
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We spent the rest of our day lolling about Gem Lakes, took a quick swim, made movies of trout (I call it "fishing"), and acclimating (for no reason at all). It was a beautiful and restful day, and I was really glad to be there and not epic'ing up at Bear Creek Spire. The backpack down the next day was equally beautiful. A couple days later I read of a rescue in the Tetons (apparently the third this year) of a guy who glissaded without an ice axe and ended up with broken limbs when he lost control. That made me feel a lot better about my admittedly inexpert assessment. I climb for fun, so the idea is to do it only to the extent that I can live to continue doing it uninjured.</div>Terroarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18109630926584464328noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2927704499096937767.post-41779290594265629342011-07-13T12:50:00.000-07:002011-07-13T12:59:02.212-07:00This year's Needles expedition -- day 2, attack of the carabinerSaturday morning found us sleeping in, so we decided to forgo the hike in to the Needles and opt for the lower elevation and shorter approach of Dome Rock, on which we had an objective, the Anti-jello crack.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/slampoud/5926758685/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="The carabiner made love to me by slampoud, on Flickr"><img alt="The carabiner made love to me" height="240" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6145/5926758685_a303b2797c_m.jpg" width="180" /></a>Anti-jello crack starts with the easy first pitch of the Tree Route. The second pitch is a 5.9+ fingers-to-tips crack, which I suspect was tips-to-nothing for Dima. He led almost all the way up it, and when the feet ran out, the crack thinned to almost nothing, and the protection got really tricky he had to hang and aid through the last bit of it. It only takes a sentence to say and justify that, but the process of making the decision and carrying it out is actually quite emotionally wrenching and time-consuming. I tried to be a good partner and give him all the time and support I could, but I never quite know whether to speak up or shut up. In any case, I was in the shade of a tree and quite comfortable. Dima finished that pitch via a right-trending variation that took us back to the Tree Route.<br />
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As for me, I think that pitch was possibly one of the best pitches I've ever climbed. The size was very suited to me. I had to stop and hang twice while cleaning nuts that were really stuck, as well as liberating a booty nut that someone had clearly used to bail on the route. Another bailing nut was fused and stayed in. During the second "take" to clean a nut I had a little accident. The draw on the piece above the one I was cleaning got jerked violently in the take, the biner at the end whipping around and fluttering and eventually taking a nice big bite out of my left bicep. It took a good chunk of flesh out, and made a giant bruise around it. It hurt a lot, but I was in the moment and didn't pay much attention. Later, at the top of the route I stopped to disinfect and bandage it.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/slampoud/5926758311/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="The mountain made love to him by slampoud, on Flickr"><img alt="The mountain made love to him" height="180" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6024/5926758311_ce7d1a2703_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>At the top of the second pitch we switched to me leading up to the anchors of the last pitch of Tree Route, since I had the whole entire giant rack of tiny gear on me. It was fun to be, however briefly, on the sharp end. I think Dima either doesn't trust me, or is so concerned about me getting hurt and screwing up his climbing plans, that he almost never lets me lead. He certainly never asks if I want to. The silent arrangement suits me, however, as he is a lot more willing to get on harder things and flail than I am, as a leader.<br />
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The last pitch of Tree Route -- in fact the whole route -- is super fun. It's a lowish angle slab, with a single bolt in the middle, a bit like the last pitch of Angel's Fright/Fingertrip on Tahquitz, but easier. Above that are just slabs to the top. We hung out on the slabs, licking our wounded egos and arms and enjoying the incredible view. A lovely breeze had kicked up, really helping in the 80s temps and full-on sun. Eventually we walked off the rock, I took a nap, and Dima went back to the base to retrieve his gear. We finished our day with another visit to the Ponderosa, where the service sucked and the food made us both quite ill. But more about that on the next day's log...Terroarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18109630926584464328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2927704499096937767.post-81986515678653015712011-07-12T21:19:00.001-07:002011-07-12T22:11:06.783-07:00This year's Needles expedition -- day 1<div style="font-size: 0.8em; line-height: 1.6em; margin: 0 0 10px 0; padding: 0;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;">Reentry from this year's expedition to the Needles, with my friend Dima from Texas, has been the hardest yet!</span></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoDYGiA-ayd_8byfk3r2RNDUakcAbS5k-i5N2oLg4wJrowxet5l-kQgJDewMUjjV_w0j0iifS3ovjjcp4_DqX3iEYrisTD0m32rz42gO95hFY1eVWZVnFJSg51XpQhYxAsWBqH7WJcG17W/s1600/img_3814.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoDYGiA-ayd_8byfk3r2RNDUakcAbS5k-i5N2oLg4wJrowxet5l-kQgJDewMUjjV_w0j0iifS3ovjjcp4_DqX3iEYrisTD0m32rz42gO95hFY1eVWZVnFJSg51XpQhYxAsWBqH7WJcG17W/s400/img_3814.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the campsite</td></tr>
</tbody></table>We took off midday on Thursday, arriving at Kernville in time for some lunner and a beer at the Kern River Brewing Co, as is our custom. We made it to the Needles campsite before dark, which was just as well, since the dirt road had a couple major mudholes that we had to negotiate, so sunlight was definitely a plus. The campsite was quite full, and we snagged the last available official camping spot, as far away from the folks with the television in their Sportsmobile as possible. I slept in my car, as usual. Dima pitched his Nemo tent, which is extremely entertaining to watch. A single PhD does not qualify one to pitch a Nemo tent, no siree!<br />
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On Friday we racked up, and steeled ourselves for the long approach. We got to the notch by the Witch only to find several parties already there and racking up, and a party already on the route we wanted to do, Airy Interlude. A little taken aback, and psychologically unprepared to deal with people, we decided to head for another objective of ours, a route named Spooky on the Charlatan formation. Spooky can be approached either from its base, by dropping down the notch between the Charlatan and the Djin, or by rapping the route from above. Initially we had a hard time locating the notch, and then we were put off by the allegedly 4th class chimney at the notch. Our beta said to expect rap slings at the top, but we found none, and we were not about to downclimb it, though we did see other parties who did later on in the day. (In the evening we spoke with Kris Solem, who is writing the new Needles guidebook, and he confirmed that indeed there are no rap slings, and that the chimney has gotten worse in the last couple of years since a flake broke off and a lot of soil eroded from the base making it deeper.) We set out to get to the top of the Charlatan to find the rap rings for Spooky, and finally succeeded after some time and a whole lot of scrambling. The top of that formation has to be one of the most spectacular spots on earth. There is a feeling of a whole lot of air around you that's absolutely breathtaking and incredibly intimidating at first. You do get used to it eventually, but initially it takes a real effort to walk around.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgARcfHrXYT5ySleF8xwDOVtjZm9WmNfvGaMLKEzGFiut-8HSmAlUwLXmfw1PUZfWI0_wVqKwelsnE06PtteXhdPSdW1fW4SIJy5cIMtEfyHuP3xmY9sGIYdj1Xtp21WWEE9uO13IGe5YLM/s1600/img_3839.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgARcfHrXYT5ySleF8xwDOVtjZm9WmNfvGaMLKEzGFiut-8HSmAlUwLXmfw1PUZfWI0_wVqKwelsnE06PtteXhdPSdW1fW4SIJy5cIMtEfyHuP3xmY9sGIYdj1Xtp21WWEE9uO13IGe5YLM/s400/img_3839.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">Me at the base of the second pitch of Spooky. Check out the crazy rock face!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"></div>The Charlatan is topped by a rock much like the headstone in J-Tree, but a little smaller, which has a crack on one side called the Lady of the Needles. This is rated 5.7, so we figured it would be a good warmup for the harder Spooky. It was indeed a very fun route, packing at least a couple interesting moves in no more than 40 feet of climbing. The top is very narrow, requiring the climber to either hang from the anchor or straddle it, which I thought was a hoot. The view is amazing!<br />
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<br />
The forecast had given us 15% chance of rain, and as we warmed up we watched the thunderheads slowly accumulate around us. None were too low or too close, though, so we decided to attempt Spooky. We were a little worried about the possibility of the weather getting worse in a rush, so we fixed our second line so we could bail very fast, if the need arose. We rapped the route, and started up. Dima led both pitches. The first, which goes at 5.8, was a solid hands crack for me, ending with a lieback section. It was a half a rope length long and I was loving every second of it! The second pitch, rated 5.9, starts with a 15 foot off-width, then continues up a sculpted face that looks probably like nothing you've ever climbed. Solidified waves is the closest description I can come up with. I could see that Dima was feeling rushed, and despite the fact that I had my eye on the weather and had persistently tried to take his mind off it, he wasn't paying attention to me. The off-width gave him trouble, and the demoralization from that made him uncertain in the face section of the climb. He finished the climb, but it was pretty clear that he hadn't especially enjoyed it. I couldn't figure out how to get into the off-width, so I started it as a lieback. That worked remarkably well until I got to the #4 camalot that Dima had walked up with him, about halfway up. I couldn't get that out while liebacking, so I tried to transition into the off-width, took a fall, and then thrutched around like a fish out of water for the rest of the off-width. At no point did I manage to regain any control or poise. Use it or lose it! I hadn't climbed an off-width in probably two years! After that I mostly enjoyed the face section, until I got to a spot where my way of doing it was very different from Dima's -- a common occurence -- but the way he had protected a traversing move made my way impossible to pull off. So I had to do it his way, which took a really long time to work out. No falls though! At least that was good.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDd6UIlTVmOIRkFrLdWKlYsaeomEKMk69jtpD9b6WYYsJCmCUmzirosva7EaiUcHANoLc5qTcpLoFSjob1NRz5kosfGv5XkBYZh8PxqMv6O9203l3lnvCeTmoxt1t4p0JSnxq-Qmm-RALW/s1600/img_3823.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDd6UIlTVmOIRkFrLdWKlYsaeomEKMk69jtpD9b6WYYsJCmCUmzirosva7EaiUcHANoLc5qTcpLoFSjob1NRz5kosfGv5XkBYZh8PxqMv6O9203l3lnvCeTmoxt1t4p0JSnxq-Qmm-RALW/s400/img_3823.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My adventure mobile, bar and library in one</td></tr>
</tbody></table>We finished the climb feeling a bit humbled and a little overwhelmed by the location, climbing and weather. On the hike out we stopped at the fire lookout tower and met the famous keeper, Margee, and Kris, chatted for a while, then hiked out with Kris. We had a beer and a burger at the Ponderosa Inn, not feeling quite up to cooking for ourselves, then read Ed Abbey and drank wine until we crashed.<br />
<br />
(Pictures by Dima.)<br />
<br />
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</div>Terroarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18109630926584464328noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2927704499096937767.post-31944853617616641442011-06-29T09:15:00.001-07:002011-07-12T22:00:10.423-07:00playing in the Southern and Eastern Sierra<div style="font-size: 0.8em; line-height: 1.6em; margin: 0 0 10px 0; padding: 0;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/slampoud/5878526307/" title="I'd rather be there"><img alt="I'd rather be there by slampoud" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5073/5878526307_e540b52050.jpg" /></a><br />
<span style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/slampoud/5878526307/">I'd rather be there</a>, a photo by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/slampoud/">slampoud</a> on Flickr.</span></div>I've taken a couple cool trips recently where the highlight was Huckleberry, my 10 month old lab-boxer pup. <br />
<br />
Huckle and I did a backpacking trip in the Southern Sierra, in which we went from the Jerkey Meadow trailhead to the bridge over the little Kern, then backed up a little and camped overnight in the woods, and back the way we came on the next day. It was a painful trip, since my knee wasn't doing well, but it also gave me a taste of how awesome backpacking with a dog is.<br />
<br />
On the next weekend I headed up to Rock Creek with Dima. We camped at French Flat, then climbed Iris Slab on Saturday, struck camp on Sunday and headed to Pine Creek, where we climbed this new area of development called the PSOM slab. We did the first pitch of a route called Racing Lizards, but via the direct slab variation, which was stellar. Huckle was also along for this trip and provided mayhem galore: on Saturday he found a putrifying fish and brought it to me. When he threw it at me it burst against my leg, covering my pants in gore and maggots. The rest of the day was fishy. On Sunday he tried to climb 5.7 slab. Yep. Got a few feet off the ground, too, which was extremely scary to watch.Terroarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18109630926584464328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2927704499096937767.post-61666920458093063462011-06-28T17:39:00.000-07:002011-07-12T21:12:19.347-07:00My climbing libraryMy climbing library has grown to the point where it's almost the size of my computer science library, which I've had five times as long to accumulate. I'm a compulsive organizer, and I'll take any excuse to fondle my books, so here's a list. Let me know if you need to borrow something. Particularly the starred books are out of print or hard to find.<br />
<br />
Guide Books:<br />
The High Sierra: peaks, passes, trails -- R. J. Secor<br />
Indian Creek, a climbing guide -- Bloom<br />
Rock climbing Santa Barbara and Ventura<br />
Rock climbing Tahquitz & Suicide Rocks<br />
Southern California Sport Climbing<br />
Owen's River Gorge Climbs<br />
Bishop Area Rock Climbs<br />
High Sierra Climbing<br />
The trad guide to Joshua Tree<br />
Rock climbing Joshua Tree West<br />
Red Rocks, a climber's guide<br />
San Diego County climbing guide<br />
* Climbing! Santa Barbara, Ventura, SLO<br />
Tuolumne Free climbs<br />
Exploring the Southern Sierra: East Side<br />
Domelands<br />
<br />
Not guide books:<br />
High Infatuation -- Steph Davis<br />
Flakes, Jugs & Splitters<br />
Climbing Free -- Lynn Hill<br />
Beyond the Mountain -- Steve House<br />
Climbing Self Rescue <br />
Mountaineering: the freedom of the hills<br />
One move too many...<br />
The self-coached climber<br />
<br />
A friend on twitter also brought to my attention that there is a great resource out there for climbing books and guide books: <a href="http://www.chesslerbooks.com/">Chessler Books.</a>Terroarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18109630926584464328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2927704499096937767.post-62352401592793972192011-04-18T08:43:00.001-07:002011-07-13T08:27:05.179-07:00Corpse WallSo named after someone who had jumped to their death from the top was found at the base by climbers. We started on the left side, first toproping the 10a, then leading the 5 on the arete and finally toproping the 7 (?) to the right of the gash. It was OK. Lots of lichen!Terroarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18109630926584464328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2927704499096937767.post-2359727894170162302011-04-13T09:27:00.000-07:002011-04-13T15:09:20.745-07:00reflections on a failed personal project<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Avid readers of this blog (both of you) might be wondering why I haven't written anything in the last couple of months, save for quickly jotting down my tick-lists for the last couple of trips I've taken. The truth is, I've been busy with things a little more exciting and engaging than the recording of adventures already complete.<br />
<br />
I like to do some kind of big, "personal development" type project every year. Since I got out of college I've been escalating the magnitude of things I undertake in my personal life. First it was learn to sail from scratch, then buy a boat, then sail from San Francisco to Santa Barbara, then do my first race internationally etc etc. Last year the opportunity presented itself to be involved with <a href="http://www.tedxsb.com/">TEDxSB</a>, and I loved how that particular project gave back to a real audience, while at the same time allowing for personal development. So this year I've been working on <i>two</i> personal projects (see what I mean about escalation?), one related to sailing and one to climbing. I know this is the climbing blog, but bear with me while I tell you how my sailing project turned out. (By the way, suffice it to say that the climbing project is another one with a low probability of success, again because it's tricky to fund. But it would be awesome, and so I don't give up!).<br />
<br />
In very early spring I learned through twitter about vacancies in a maritime research expedition on board the S/V Sea Dragon over the summer. It is being run by the same folks who are responsible for the 5Gyres project, in which the Sea Dragon trawls the oceans collecting samples of plastic pollution. In this summer project they'll be collecting various forms of data in the South Pacific, and producing all kinds of multimedia to be shared with conservation organizations (more about the expedition <a href="http://www.panexplore.com/may-tahiti-to-cook-is">here</a>). I thought that sounded incredibly cool. My pipe dream is to be the captain of a research boat, so what better way to get a millimeter closer to that dream than join these folks on the 4th leg of their expedition. I could blog about everything leading up to the expedition, blog from the boat and give presentations when I can back to Santa Barbara. I could turn this into a grand learning experiment for myself and my audience. <br />
<br />
These expeditions are funded partly through grants and partly through crew contributions, so the next trick was going to be to raise the funds necessary to participate. Over three months I contacted outdoor apparel companies (4 in total), some tech companies (3), a sustainable cosmetics company and two educational/conservation organizations, hoping to discuss the possibility of them helping in some way with my small budget. I heard back from exactly ONE of these potential sponsors, and that was because the person I contacted was a brilliant friend who has done projects like these herself, and who had a very cogent answer about the company's giving strategy and what may or may not work. Over these three months I went through periods of pumping disappointment, exuberant determination, plodding resolve and everything in-between. I searched email and phone directories, emailed these folks, even visited the ones with brick-and-mortar stores to talk to the managers. In the face-to-face situations, I was met with enthusiasm, but never by the decision-makers themselves. The follow-through was nil. I am not naive regarding corporate giving policies, nor am I indifferent to the plight of business in a down economy. I do, however, expect an answer when I pose a question. I expect some proportion of those answers to be NO, maybe even all of them, and I harbor no hard feelings over the nos, but I EXPECT an answer. It is the bare minimum of P.R. professionalism to respond to legitimate email and in-person inquiries. <br />
<br />
So it seemed that corporate sponsorship was not going to work out. The next option seemed to be a kickstarter campaign, but kickstarter has recently made the decision to restrict use of their platform to creative projects only. (I happen to think that's a good idea, by the way, as they can focus their platform and tailor it to that community). What I was proposing to do was really a research-adventure project, and, while I could have tried to shoe-horn it into an art project of some kind, I thought the idea had merit in and of itself. <br />
<br />
Finally, again through twitter, I became aware of the fact that Nick Jaffe, who I know from <a href="http://www.bigoceans.com/">his Atlantic crossing and other adventures in a quasi-sistership of mine</a>, was building an adventure funding platform called Nomaddica. He was lauching a pre-pre-alpha version to help <a href="http://www.nomaddica.com/projects/roz-savage/eat-pray-row-the-indian-ocean">Roz Savage</a>, who is rowing across the Indian Ocean, with fundraising. I emailed Nick and he quickly agreed to help with my project, despite the fact that his code wasn't ready and that this was likely to be a huge headache for him. I was overjoyed. <br />
<br />
Throughout this entire fundraising process, the expedition manager, Emily, had been a tremendous help, giving me ideas about companies to contact, how to possibly structure the fundraising, and chatting with me about the logistics of getting to the start of the trip, immunizations and the like. <br />
<br />
In the end, logistics and burn out killed this project. There appears to be a weekly flight to the Kiritimati (Christmas Island) atoll from which leg 4 of the trip begins, and because of its timing it would require me to take fully 3 weeks off from work. Nomaddica can help with the fundraising, but there is no guarantee that we can cover my expenses and I am loathe to burden my social network with the responsibility for funding a trip that no corporate sponsor saw fit to be associated with. But is the inability to find a sponsor for this project a damning judgment or simply a reflection of the fact that people do not bother to send emails of rejection, preferring instead for them to be implied?<br />
<br />
I, of course, am not globally giving up! I am merely throwing in the towel (and deleting the twitter account and blog) for this particular imagined research-education project. It was an enlightening, months-long exercise in fundraising, social media and concept development, and it separated the many mice I contacted from the few humans who chose to respond (whether to the affirmative or negative). Instead I choose to lend my support, and I urge you to, as well, to <a href="http://www.nomaddica.com/projects/roz-savage/eat-pray-row-the-indian-ocean">Roz's campaign</a>. I look forward to the completion of Nick's fundraising platform. And I wish the S/V Sea Dragon all the best in this and future expeditions. As long as beaches are covered in plastic bottles, there is work to be done. <br />
<br />
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Of course, I will make it to the South Pacific some other time ;-)</div>Terroarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18109630926584464328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2927704499096937767.post-64671195187785158002011-04-02T18:36:00.000-07:002011-04-02T18:36:17.058-07:00Wheeler GorgeTick list: <br />
Cobble Climb<br />
Cruiser<br />
South of the trout farm<br />
Stu BoyTerroarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18109630926584464328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2927704499096937767.post-46762600286684492982011-03-19T17:07:00.000-07:002011-03-19T17:07:42.637-07:00Indian Creek"Tick" list<br />
Tuesday:<br />
* The incredible hand crack<br />
* Supercrack<br />
* Coyne crack<br />
Wednesday:<br />
* Kitten kicker (Unnamed 19)<br />
* Deseret moonTerroarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18109630926584464328noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2927704499096937767.post-54622152891297687602011-02-17T08:58:00.000-08:002011-02-17T08:58:00.504-08:00The FortressThe Fortress is a fabulous area of new climbing development just past the Sespe Gorge on Hwy 33. Most of the routes were set by Matt Fienup, and they're closely bolted and very cool. My friend J and I hit it on Saturday of last weekend. We started up on the left, went up 5.4, 5.9, 5.7 and 5.10a pitches, dropped down the other side and toproped 10a, then went up Permanent Income Hypothesis at 5.9. The conditions were damn near perfect, temperatures were mild in the sun and shade, nice gentle breeze and we had the place to ourselves. What a day!Terroarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18109630926584464328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2927704499096937767.post-35410241787632069242011-01-18T11:49:00.000-08:002011-01-24T09:02:51.412-08:00Return to Echo CliffsThis past Saturday I hit Echo Cliffs with two friends, one of whom has done very little climbing outside and one of whom had never led outside. I had my reservations about climbing with non-leaders from the start because, even though I've managed to follow reasonably challenging climbs over the last six months, I hadn't led since Angel's Fright in early summer. I was also expecting, correctly, as it turned out, that the routes would be mobbed. In general I was having trouble explaining to people just how low their expectations of climbing that day should be...<br />
<br />
In any case, we had a really fun day! The temperature was perfect and we enjoyed the hike in and out, my knees holding up just fine. We started at the Grotto, with the two 5.8/5.9s on the left of the stream. I led the face climb first, and I could tell I was still in granite mode and not loving the tuff. A gentleman who was climbing nearby was kind enough to make the first clip on the arete route to its right next, and I started up that. I remember having led it a couple years ago, and feeling fine and proud, despite the menacing drop. The kind gentleman had gone, in my opinion, off-route when leading it himself, and, all of a sudden, in the middle of my lead he and a random lady off to the side started talking to me, presumably trying to give me beta. I hate beta. And more than that, I hate being talked to in the middle of a challenging lead. The only bad lead fall I've taken was when my mentor, Francis, tried to talk me through a section between the 1st and 2nd bolt on a climb at New Jack City. So here I was, between the 1st and 2nd bolt on this climb, with a potentially much worse fall and a new belayer and TWO random people were talking to me. I gave it a game try and backed off. I took 5 minutes to compose myself and de-pump, got back on, and the same thing happened. Gabber gabber gabber. Wtf?! I backed off again. I was pissed off enough that I knew I couldn't ask them politely to shut up, so I didn't say anything. My belayer had shown exceptional control following, then leading the previous route, so I asked him if he wanted to try to onsight this one, and he took the opportunity. The remaining two of us followed, and then we went to have lunch, while I talked myself out of chewing out those helpful people. I guess it's a public place and they can talk as loudly as they wish to. After lunch we hit the Left Flank, and I led a long, super fun 5.8+ thingy. That put me back in a happy mood, and rounded off our day. <br />
<br />
I actually had no idea that someone talking to me between the 1st and 2nd bolt of a challenging climb would shut me down. I don't recall my previous leader fall as an especially traumatic experience. I did fall on top of my belayer then, and I was lucky that she was so good at her job. But I took some time, dusted myself off and sent that climb! So I wasn't expecting this. I think time away from leading combined with the similar setting and serious consequences of a fall there made me back off. I think it was the right decision, too, since I don't like to force it. I didn't like that I couldn't muster a polite way to shut those people up, but I am proud for not ruining everyone's day...Terroarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18109630926584464328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2927704499096937767.post-70197459804696428272010-11-16T09:55:00.001-08:002010-11-16T17:41:17.883-08:002nd #jtreetweetup<div style="float: left; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/slampoud/5179587471/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="photo sharing"><img alt="" height="200" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4033/5179587471_4340aa7bcc_m.jpg" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 2px; border-left-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 2px; border-right-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 2px; border-top-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 2px;" width="200" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/slampoud/5179587471/">Praying mantis on Freerider wall</a><br />
Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/slampoud/">slampoud</a></span></div>Well, the 2nd #jtreetweetup is behind us, and I'm struggling once more to put the experience into words... Yet, this year the aftertaste is distinctly different, for me.<br />
<br />
Last year's tweetup was the first. It had been such a special experience that for me <a href="http://ldik.blogspot.com/2009/12/gaps.html">it felt fragile</a>. I put it in a snow globe and refused to analyze it or write about it for fear of marring it. Every once in a while I was allowed to turn over the globe and make moon eyes at it.<br />
<br />
This year's tweetup was similar yet different. The feeling of community was just as strong. It was just as amazing to meet or meet again the people in whose lives I'm a spectator and occasional participant. It was all really special in all the same huge, really amazing and important ways. The bittersweetness of departure last year was replaced with the bittersweetness of missing some of the people who had been there the year before (or indeed, people who'd gone to the Red Rocks or other climbing tweetups that I only know from twitter), but knowing they're OK. But topping it all off, for me at least, was an undercurrent of optimism that I hadn't detected last year.<br />
<br />
Last year had been about "wow! what just happened?! that was so special! I wonder if anything this special can ever happen again". This year was more "wow! this is awesome! It happened again! Can we keep doing this?!" Do you see what I mean? It's like the difference between falling in love for the first time vs realizing that being in love is, ideally, a human condition, and you're a creature made to participate in that with an open heart again and again.<br />
<br />
And before readers start wondering what I did to the real Teri, I'll take my bow. It was a privilege to meet and meet again with everyone. Be safe! Auf wiedersehen!<br />
<br />
Our ticklist: Dappled Mare (led 2nd pitch). Dinky Doinks, Granny Goose, M&Ms Plain (followed).Terroarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18109630926584464328noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2927704499096937767.post-448503642132132062010-11-08T20:39:00.000-08:002010-11-08T20:39:04.661-08:00Post-facelift New JackThis weekend there was a lovely meetup at New Jack City. I'd heard that the BLM was planning "improvements", but I didn't know what, if anything, had happened. As it turned out what development has been so far done is quite unobtrusive, and some of it is downright useful. The road has been graded a little better, and covered in gravel, which reduced the amount of dust generated by passing cars. Some concrete pads with permanent roofs were put in place, presumably to concentrate camping around them, and to provide some permanent shade. Finally, two more vault toilets were installed -- a very welcome addition, which will be even better once it's properly stocked with t.p.<br />
<br />
We climbed on Raven on Saturday, and I dispatched a couple 10a's and a 10b. On Sunday we climbed on Boyscout wall, where I led a 7 and toproped 3 10a/b's, and then Francis led and I followed the route to the right of Espresso, again a 10a. I considered getting on Espresso (10c) on Saturday, but backed off, as I was intimidated by its crimpiness. The shoulder's doing pretty well, but I'm concerned about my shoulders starting to pull forward as I regain strength in my arm muscles. I'll see what I can do about getting some more p.t. authorized.Terroarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18109630926584464328noreply@blogger.com2