After trying out a few friends bikes and toying with the idea, I figured that I might as well dive into that realm after having been road biking for three years now.   I finally picked up an entry level bike and am giving it a go, why not?  Rides can be quick after school/work jaunts, early morning runs up through the hills, basically it opens up a whole new world of pedaling to me, which I have not been privy to the past three years.  Very exciting!

On the climbing front, I have some prospects that I am working on right now, and if everything goes through like it is supposed to, I should be getting some incredible experiences in October in Yosemite Valley.  While not alpine climbing, this is a realm I have yet to explore  -  big wall climbing.   Yet again, very exciting!

If I can scrape the change together and take care of work for my non-bank job and school, I may be able to get away once in a while on a Sunday and go on an ice climb, as the Sierra alpine ice is in fine condition right now and should be good to go for some time.  A few goals are the V-Notch or Clyde Couloir in the Palisades region.  Without a doubt that is my favorite area of the Sierra.  Aside from there running a lap up the couloirs of North Peak again would be excellent.  I have climbed them twice before, once in Neve condition and another time with a little bit of alpine ice.  North Peak is awesome because you can access via boat (cutting 1 mile off of the 4 mile approach) or a flat walk to some sweet couloirs, made even lighter when not carrying rope! Style matters.  Something along the lines of the Feather Couloir on Feather Peak or Red Slate Couloir would be of interest as well, and still some alpine rock climbs I would like to get on before it would be a winter ascent.

RE: school, well, it’s grad school and is going to be tough.  If it were easy, everybody would do it, and there would be no meaning behind it.  Nothing worth it ever came easy.  This is the early part of the year where it is primarily reading intensive, not much actual course work being churned out for two of my three classes, but I expect that to change rapidly, and when it does, it will be time for a complete lock down. Balancing between school and work has been difficult and proven to be quite the challenge, with a litany of obstacles.   This too shall pass…

Back to work…

Whether it is an alpine rock climb, a day at the crag working a project route (or in my case some other climber’s warm-up), or moving into new areas of climbing and new places to climb, the excitement is constant.  The hope for the future and the looming challenges, both physical and psychological are significant.

Just getting out there, even if you get shut down, is worth the time and money invested to get after it.  Other times the perceived failures or wimp-out points can provide the most useful inspiration toward getting better, and the best situations to learn from.

The most important things are having fun and learning.

The view up 120 for the first 4 miles or so

Ian and I were kicking around several ideas for this past weekend.  I had three days off work, he had a flexible schedule.  We both wanted to play in the hills and the forecast further south in the Eastern Sierra looked pretty cold.  Lo and behold, the weather at Tioga Pass, the entrance to Yosemite’s Tuolumne Meadows (high country), was warm and sunny.  And to top that off, a trans-Sierra ski trip that was supposed to go down never did.  This meant that there was a luxury (by mountain standards) food cache at the ski hut 16 miles from the road closure.

Slogging up that closed road with my feet quickly turning to ground beef from my ski boots, the sun beating down on me, I started to think about the ‘

why.’    I really started my foray into the outdoor world about a year and a half ago because I needed clarity.  I needed to clear my head of things that had been bothering me for a while.  I’ve always been an over-thinker.    Then I found myself looking out over Lake

Tahoe early one November 2008 morning with an atmospheric inversion in place, suddenly the

wheels started to turn a bit slower, and things came into perspective.

View of Tahoe from Tamarack

Fast forward to March of 2009.  It is my first trip to the Eastern Sierra with my roommate and good friend Aaron Sieczkowski.  We plan the trip to last a few days into the High Sierra to climb Mount Sill and maybe some others, ya know, if we had time.  It was our last Spring Break of undergrad.  We end up getting our asses handed to us, it was my first time above 12,000 feet, and it was definite ‘Type 2’ fun (read: hell while you’re doing it but in retrospect ‘whoa that’s cool’), and some areas definitely bordered on Type 3 fun (read: what the hell was I thinking?).  While we didn’t summit anything, I got hurt, Aaron punched his boot through a not-so-frozen-over creek (doh!), and I’m sure I’m forgetting a litany of other instances of things not going as planned, I totally loved it in retrospect.  I was hooked at that point.

Mount Sill meant extended periods of walking in pretty scenery

When we got to the Denny’s in Bishop after we got out of the hills (the only thing we could find that was open), the cheeseburger I ate there was the best I’ve ever had.  Getting home and seeing my girlfriend, talking to my family on the phone, sitting down in front of my laptop and mouth breathing for a while, everything you sometimes take for granted, suddenly you realize just how lucky you are.

Jump to mid-May 2009, I am headed out on my first trip with a new climbing partner, Ben Hatchett.  He and I are slated to head out on what was described to me as a “dirt road” to climb Mount Humphreys North Couloir and descend on snowboards.  Hatchett would end up being one of my most influential climbing partners, and just a fun person to be around in general.  The drive in is made in the dark, and the Buttermilk Road deteriorated quickly from being your typical washboard dirt road to having to make some pretty sketchy 4×4 moves through rugged terrain.   The next morning I awaken and the view we are treated to is amazing.  We got much further than anticipated, sleeping at nearly 10,000 feet according to my GPS.  We end up topping out on the couloir, not the peak, I descend the lower part on snowboard, injuring my back due to the fact that I’m an idiot and attempted to snowboard in mountaineering boots.  We had planned on climbing the East Arete the next day, to the summit, before I hurt my back.  Expect the unexpected.  Expect an adventure.

1, 2, 3 drop zone!

In April of 2010, Jeff Devillez and I met up in Bishop and exemplified the adventure aspect I love.  Went through the Buttermilks again (more

stable section of that road than mentioned in the first tale w/Ben, thank God) to ski Basin Mountain, went bouldering in the Happy Boulders on a rest day, got shut down driving on 4×4 roads to reach Mount Tom but got a fun consolation prize descent the next day on Table Mountain.   We bandit camped (see: did not pay for camping by sleeping in my truck) all but one night, didn’t tag any summits, woke up later than we should have a few of the days, and had a complete blast.  A true adventure.

It’s hard to explain these kinds of things to people who haven’t taken their helmets and seatbelts off, gotten off the couch, and lived life rather than merely being alive.  The kind of clarity gained through climbing, backcountry skiing, alpinism in general, is unparalleled.  The sense of adventure of going into unfamiliar terrain, or hell, even familiar terrain with different objectives or a new twist, with great friends, there’s very little that can compare.  Getting to the top of something that looked so impossibly far and big from the trailhead, or getting damn close, can provide the ultimate feeling of accomplishment.  Not getting those objectives can provide fuel and motivation for future endeavors, and a sense of humility and a humbling that little else is capable of providing.  The grandeur of your surroundings keep the fact that you are just a relatively insignificant speck, and that your problems are even smaller, in perspective.

The mundane days of work, the time spent on the couch glaring at the TV, the daily nuances, those memories will fade some day.  What is burned, engrained, into my memory are sunrises seen from a high camp at 12,000 feet looking down into the Owens Valley as the sun sets everything ablaze…

Excellent views of sunrise over the Owens Valley on Sill

This was the first crag where I really got my ass handed to me when I thought I was capable of climbing at the grade, the route epitomized what I struggled with:  climbing that required some form of technique.  The route that spanked me was the UNR Crack (5.7).  Moderate rock climbing indeed. The crag was River Rock, located 15 minutes from West Reno.  I had come back a few times and tried it again, failing at the same move every time.  I had been able to complete its neighbor Spring Break (5.8) before, but the UNR Crack was elusive for me, quite the mental crux even on top rope for me.  I had to actually trust a hand jam and rely on it in its entirety to make the next (easy) move.  The previous three or four times this did not happen.

Today we show up and every easy, good ‘warm-up’ route (like UNR Crack, or so says everyone…) was taken.  There is a crack that splits River Rock and is considered the classic route of this small I-80-side crag, Karl’s Crack.  It is a 50 foot 5.10a crack.  The hardest outdoor grade I had climbed was a 5.9 at Red Rock, which is known for having ‘soft’ grades.  The group comes to a consensus, Karl’s Crack will be where we start the day.

“Shit.” I think, “I can’t get up UNR Crack let alone the classic 3 grades harder….”

Endless swearing, grunting, hand bleeding, and hang-dogging later, I top out on it.  Stoked as ever.

That route is awesome, and in retrospect the more I think about it the more I like it.  It has a little bit of something for everyone, and is a good route that can allow you to see your weaknesses and strengths.  It has cracks ranging from thin finger locks to wide off-widths that are just wanting to spit you out, to face moves, and some slight smear zones.  Generally an awesome route!

I’ll be back on that one again, for sure.

After this, I found myself back on familiar territory.  The low ladder-like holds allow me to move right to the spot that has puzzled me multiple times before.  I look at the hand jam I need to make, I look at my left hand, looks like hamburger from the rough rock, I go for it and fail, fall, and get lowered off (isn’t top rope neat?).  Paul Wall was kind enough to lend me some tape to cover the open cuts on my hand, and I apprehensively make my way back up to the same move, the one that had shut me down an additional time.

And then there it was, suddenly it clicked, the jam stuck this time, and the rest of the route I was smiling to the anchor.  I finally finished a route that was easy, but had been elusive to me, and a type of climbing that I have been terribly weak on.  If it involved a crack with face moves around the crack, I avoided it.  Similar to when I got shut down on Cat In The Hat in Red Rock.  Similar to me at first on Karl’s Crack.

But finally I got it!

The way I see it, cragging and bouldering are awesome for building absolute technical threshold stuff, but sometimes you just need it to boost that confidence.   After getting shut down repeatedly, I finally have ‘gotten it.’  Next step is to lead it….

I’m getting really excited about the next month and a half or so.  Awesome time of the year for alpine rock and backcountry skiing.

Tonight I will start, and maybe post in entirety, a three part trip report on last weekend’s trip to Bishop with Jeff.

Anyway, before I start rambling too much, I plan on posting a trip report on here…or a few, we’ll see how motivated I am, of this weekend’s activities.

A rough outline of the weekend:

Saturday: Ski the lower portions of Basin Mountain’s East Couloir (3500 feet of corn snow..wheeeee!)

Sunday:  Be useless, then boulder at the renowned (for good reason) Happy Boulders, attempt to get to Mount Tom at night, wind up on some cliffed-out 4×4 road, turn around with tail between legs.

Monday:  Ski an untracked roadside line on CA 168, return to Reno

All in all one of the best times I’ve had in a long time, sooo fun, and even though we didn’t truly succeed on any of the ‘objectives’ that we really set forth, this weekend was more of a success than had we actually done that, I think.  Anyway, gotta get ready for the work week and get a few things in order before I leave the house for the day.

Jeff Devillez at our bandit camp in the Buttermilks after skiing Basin Mountain, which is behind him

Something that really amazes me about Donner Summit area is the plethora of activities that you can engage in there in a single day.

I learned how to rock climb at Donner Summit, learned to climb water ice, competed in a triathlon, mixed  climbed Donner Peak, and have done some road biking as well as just hiking and hanging out at Donner Lake.  The place is special, let’s put it that way.

Road sign on Donner Summit, CA Photo Credit: Benjamin Hatchett

A couple of Fridays ago, Ben Hatchett and I decided a descent of Donner Peak would be in order.  We toured in, Hatchett on split board, myself on skis.  After a cruise up in gorgeous weather, we dropped it like it was hot!

Heading over some of the easier stuff before hitting the steeps! Donner Peak, CA - Photo Credit: Benjamin Hatchett

Well, alright, Hatchett dropped it like it was hot, I more or less crashed and burned once I hit the steeps!  Steep backcountry skiing in powder is a TOTALLY different animal from skiing steeps at Squaw.  At least it was a learning experience and a lot of fun, right?  I’m in it for the experience braaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

That run put a smile on my face for the rest of the day (even if it was masked with a grimace from some knee pain) and reminded me of just how awesome Donner Summit is.  Not too many other places out there that you can participate in so many outdoor activities in a single day.  That whole Donner Lake area is just incredible, absolutely incredible.  I really am SO lucky.

Want.

To..

CLIMB.

It has been over a month since I last got to get out and get after it.  But nothing too committing since Thanksgiving rock climbing at Red Rock, and true to the addiction that climbing is, I want to go harder, faster, and lighter.  I want to push my abilities to the limit in the heat of the moment, while still maintaining control.  I want the rush, I want the sense of achievement, and most of all I want the adventure.  I want to grow as a climber and work on my weaknesses, not just avoid them.  I want to become an alpinist, capable of being competent on rock, ice, and mixed terrain.  I am not content climbing rock, nor am I content climbing ice.  And let me be clear, by no means am I any good at either, I’m just a neophyte feeling my way through the incredible experience that is climbing.

To me climbing isn’t about competition, it’s not about bragging that you climbed something that most people that don’t climb could give a shit about, and even if they did climb, they still probably don’t care unless you climbed the hardest route on a cool mountain.  Climbing is individual experience at its finest, two people can be on the same route, climbing attached to the same route, and often the adventure was vastly different for either person.

Commitment.

Looking at an excerpt from Mark Twight’s brilliant tyrade, Twitching With Twight from his Kiss or Kill collection stands out to me as an inspiration.

“Live the lifestyle instead of paying lip service to the lifestyle. Live with commitment. With emotional content. Live whatever life you choose honestly. Give up this renaissance man, dilettante bullshit of doing a lot of different things (and none of them very well by real standards). Get to the guts of one thing; accept, without reservation or rationalization, the responsibility of making a choice. When you live honestly, you can not separate your mind from your body, or your thoughts from your actions.” – Mark Twight

Nothing, to me, is worse than a lack of commitment.  Maybe it’s because I rarely tip-toe into things, rather I prefer to get the whole dosage.  Whether it was with triathlon training or alpinism, two things I enjoy immensely, I took the plunge.  Again, I’m not the most committed of my friends, not the most talented, and not even remotely close to the best climber, triathlete, etc, I am merely making observations.  Live your life with commitment to whatever it is you choose to do.  Why bother if you choose to do it any other way?  As Twight says, get to the guts of one thing – be it cycling, alpinism, ballet, whatever makes you feel alive, just get to the middle of it and accept it.  Don’t waste your time or that of others half committing to a cause, or even worse, saying you’re committed to the cause, saying you want to get into it more, and then when given opportunities you bail.

Kelly Cordes runs a great blog, one of my favorites to read, and he asks the question as to why there isn’t more good sport climbing and bouldering literature available.  He hypothesizes that this is due to the lack of TRUE commitment during these activities -  there are dedicated dirtbag sport climbers and boulderers, but nothing really forces you to commit like alpine climbing.   I’d like to take his hypothesis a few steps further and say that action without commitment is as hollow as a drum,  lots of noise with very little action.  The worst thing to see is talent without commitment.  Having to calculate risks in remote areas seems to have an effect on the mind, and the stories that come with that sort of true adventure, that often create great literature and thought.

I’m exhausted, long day of work today and needed to try some poorly articulated version to get past the writers block that has been plaguing me the last few weeks, maybe this will open it back up again, maybe not.  You have just read the poorly written product of 5 hours of sleep and a very long day.  I am truly lucky to get to complain about a long day at work, considering how many people in this great country are without jobs.

So I got to thinking about all of my gear and figured I’d start with something that is pretty much a consensus best-in-gear kind of piece.  The Patagonia DAS Parka.

In my early snow sloggin’ days, I used this as an around camp piece, a modern day camp fire if you will (without the hazards of fire…man make fire!) to keep me warm as I would scurry around trying to get everything done so I could stop shivering and get into my nice warm sleeping bag.

After doing some research I came across the Patagonia DAS Parka.  I went ahead to the Patagonia Outlet here in Reno and bought it for a steal.  It was love at first try-on…

DAS stands for Dead Air Space, as in the air it traps next to you, which by trapping your own heat, you are in effect using your hard earned heat to keep nice and warm in the most inhospitable of climates.  I’ve used this thing super-sloggin’, ice climbin’, and sometimes around my house when things are getting a little buckwild.  The common denominator is that I am warm, and thus am happy.  Sometimes too warm and happy.  My laziness when comfortable became quite evident.  While climbing some ice at June Lake, CA there were three of us doing laps on a top rope.  We were kind of working in order, and had stopped to eat lunch.  My roommate asks me if I want the next lap.  As I’m contemplating this, I kind of cock my head back to look at the ice flow (without helmet since we were out of harms way), and then it happened.  My cold, short-haired dome came into contact with the insulated hood of my DAS.  I decided that I would sit this one out and get the next lap, as I was entirely too warm and happy.

The insulation is a synthetic (the newer version I might need to spring for, which is lighter and has Primaloft One insulation which is neat) stays warm while wet, and is fully windproof and water-resistant.  It is relatively lightweight, but is not meant to be the lightest of light pieces for fast-and-light summer pushes, it’s meant for gettin’ down with the get down in the winter. The only flaw to this piece is its lack of packability, which is sort of to be expected since it is synthetic.  It takes up a lot of space in the pack, but is worth every square inch it takes up!

While it may not be the most stylish piece out there for around town wear (at least in the Nuclear, I mean Aztec Yellow mine is in) – so that means even the derelict snow bros at imperial will not think you are stylish, the DAS is a staple item that I take anywhere cold in the mountains.

Absolutely a five-star piece!

Near our camp with Mount Sill in the background, March '09, nice and toasty in my DAS

Over the Thanksgiving trip I took here, I got to do some climbing on perfect sandstone walls in a winter trad climbing mecca.  I also got to boulder in an area under-appreciated for its bouldering. (which is phenomenal).  Over Christmas, we did a little bit of it all, from bouldering to sport to trad (shorter stuff this time).

One constant among these trips was the presence of my good friend Jeff.  He got in his first trad climbs, first trad lead, and basically killed it bouldering as well.  AJ, Ian, and Aaron were the others present on these various trips, all are fun to be around.  AJ, Jeff, and I all went to different high schools in the Las Vegas Valley (population ~2million), Aaron and Ian have both lived in Northern Nevada for quite some time.  Aaron, AJ, Jeff, and I all went to undergrad together at The University of Nevada (which just so happens to be in Reno, NV  – for those of you not too knowledgeable of Nevada, yeah you from back East…Reno is 500 miles or so North of Vegas).

Another constant from these trips was that none of the climbers we encountered called Vegas home.  We encountered fellow trad climbers from Utah, Wyoming, Colorado, and even some other folks from Reno on our first trip.  On the second trip some people from Michigan, Texas, and Utah were on the crags having a great time with us.

What brings me to Vegas repeatedly isn’t Red Rock (which would be reason enough for a trip to Vegas), my Dad owns a house on the West side of Vegas.  His house is only 20 minutes from the entrance to the scenic loop and even closer to some of the zones where fun can be had.  With this kind of access for a lot of people, you have to wonder where the locals are.  Red Rock is one of the premier winter rock climbing destinations in the U.S. of A, with moderate temperatures, infrequent precipitation, and infinite lines to be climbed, you would think that the locals in Vegas would be taking full advantage of what sits right outside of their back door.

Vegas also has access to some premier climbing areas within five hours drive, from the Eastern Sierra (where summer climbing can occur) to Zion to J-Tree.

I guess some of the locals could argue that it’s a good thing more people don’t know about it and whatnot, but hell, if you’re a local you probably have climbed most of the classics or know how to avoid the lines on them at this point.  So why doesn’t Vegas have more climbers?  Maybe I’m just here on weekends where a lot of people are on vacation and are in places not named Las Vegas, or just aren’t climbing.  It’s just beyond me that so much sweet terrain is right there and so few people know what they have sitting right there. Are too many of the locals mouth-breathing on the couch instead of getting out there and getting after it?   Discuss.

One thing I also find rather curious is the name of some of the guide books covering this area.  The technical name for the area is Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area.  Locals call it Red Rock.  Even the golf course, country club, and casino named after it are named Red Rock.  Many of the guidebooks covering climbing in this area call it Red Rocks.  Anybody out there reading that gives me any background as to why this is?

Had some fun down there both trips, I’m waiting for a memory card full of pictures from the last trip then there will be pictures and a TR of the adventures had down here.  Gotta get going on the plane headed home….

I suppose what I’m trying to say is that the point of this is to share stories of some of my adventures, some lessons learned, and maybe some workouts, not too sure yet, but whatever I do put on here I hope you (the reader) enjoy!

Belay ledge at the top of Pitch 2 of Solar Slab Wall w/JBo aka Jbeezius, Red Rock, NV