Split Tips, steep hikes, and other Black Hills shenanigans

I just took a shower. Some may not grasp the significance of this, but I'm almost amazed all the grease that flowed off me didn't clog the truck stop's drain. It's amazing how it builds up. Although, despite my low expectations, truck stop showers are truly amazing. This one, for instance, plays bad country music when you turn off the water, so one can dry their naked body while reminiscing about booze, trucks, and Jesus. What could be better? But, as for climbing, I've just finished off a little two-day stint at Victoria Canyon, in the Black Hills (plus a half day of getting lost around Mt. Baldy). The conditions have been poor. At least that's what I tell myself, as my climbing has been even worse. Baldy had my fingertips stripped by the third dry fire, and Thin Red Line (13b) felt gross. I mean, the right hand crimp just about always feels like a rusty dull razor soaked in pig lard, and with this humidity, just thinking about grabbing the thing split my right pointer finger. But, despite the majority of my sends being warmups, psych is high, and views are to die for. I'm about to leave for Lander, Wyoming, after this donut pit stop, and will hopefully find drier air, and stronger forearms. Till next time!

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Flailing elbows, black eyes, and the art of driving low clearance vans down crappy dirt roads

And we're back on the road! The trip's started with a bang, and has been packed full of adventures on both granite slabs and limestone roofs. I feel significantly stronger than last trip in Victoria Canyon, and was able to put down two projects that got away due to scrawny forearms last summer. I've gotten to catch up with some old friends (and inadvertently gave one a nasty shiner due to chicken-winging out of a big ol' dyno), and have already had the privilege of meeting a plethora of new people in the ever-magical Black Hills. There are countless more routes here I haven't yet touched, and I plan to hop on as many as possible in the next week before pointing Plastic Jesus west towards Lander and some unfinished mono-filled business. But till then, here's a little something something to show I can still do some writing (a little bit, at least)- ...

Two week anniversary of oily hair, stinky armpits, hard limestone, and bloody fingers.

Just passed the two week mark, and Wild Iris is still the frustrating, painful, amazing entity it always has been. Progress on "Rodeo Free Europe" has definitely slowed, although I can now consistently one-hang it, and hopefully it'll go down soon (so I can move on to "Throwing the Houlihan", and other crazy cool things). But here's a little something I wrote up, that I can't really think of a good transition into, so hopefully you all enjoy my ramblings! (I don't have service to upload pictures at the moment, so they'll be in the next post.) Said the flower to the tree, "Why so tall?" The tree, in response, simply turned its wizened gaze to the mountains above, rising from rolling plains like the teeth of a slain monster. Said the tree to these mountains, "Why so far? Why is it that I must live in your shadow, and not upon the snowy peak above, reaching towards the heavens?" And the mountain, in a low, gravelly grumble, l...

Partners from faraway places, walmart muffins, and moments of intense gastro-intestinal distress

After a much briefer hiatus, here comes a brand spankin' new life update. Although I'm still in the Salt Lake City vicinity, American Fork is old news. It was fun, historic, and humbling, but partners weren't plentiful (anyone sensing a theme of this trip?), and the climbing all ended in a masochistic layback roof crack. So the van was packed up on a whim, and pointed south to the promised land, otherwise known as Maple Canyon. Yeah, that's right, the place with the cobbles. Cliffs made out of millions of smaller rocks. No friction whatsoever. Routes with twenty plus draws, and more kneebars than even the laziest of sport climbers could find in Rifle. I'm terrible at this stuff. No power required, nothing tweaky in any sense of the word, just straight overhung endurance. Though the first week or so was somewhat frustrating, things have begun to look up as I've started to learn the style, and gotten used to being constantly (and I mean constantly) pumped. ...

Adventures of the Dashboard Deities

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