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Here are our current big rigs. We just added the Ford F150. It is huge, we will need to do some serious greening to offset this beast’s carbon footprint. It is another gas fueled vehicle for our family. We would have loved a diesel option, but for the time this is what we have.
In classic Jonathan style, the truck was modified soon after we brought it home. He didn’t like the extra details that the previous owner had added. There was a bug guard on the front, that had to go. There were running boards along the sides, which apparently were “too grandma-ish”. There were rain/wind shields over the windows, those were just silly to him. I was very surprised when I came outside after a few hours of Jonathan’s tinkering to find a stripped down and simplified version of the truck we purchased. It was just the way he liked it, and I have to agree it looked a lot cleaner.
Why, exactly do we need a truck? We have to get back to Idaho and haul all of our possessions out here. It needs to be able to pull a trailer, and make the road trip. Unfortunately our lovely VW can’t pull the load. The good news is that there is another road trip in our near future. We hope to take a week or more to take the trip, and will take the long way there in order to see some sights and climb some rocks. The travel time will be a little less luxurious than the ever spacious van, but we will just have to pack light and make due. I am angling for a canopy, but we’ll see.
We are also eager to start working on projects as soon as possible. We will need something to facilitate these endeavors, something that can haul lumber, metal, maybe some hay or livestock. Every farm needs a truck. Now that we have the truck we just need the farm.
Today is beautiful. It must be 70 degrees, a windless, cloudless sunny day. I believe it is the first such day of the year. I couldn’t let this go to waste, so I packed myself a lunch and headed out to spend the afternoon in the park.
Loose Park, it is a rather large park (74 acres I discovered) downtown near the plaza. It is mostly rolling grass lawn, speckled with various evergreens and deciduous trees, which have yet to come to life with leaves. The park also has a few ponds surrounded by walking paths and furnished with a few bridges, and a rose garden (which I didn’t see).
For lunch, I made a sandwich of roasted red peppers, hummus, arugula, sharp cheddar cheese, and dressed it with a little mustard, olive oil, salt and pepper…yum. I also threw in an apple and a bag of my Mom’s dehydrated plums for snacks. I brought along my new birthday book, Possum Living, and am excited to get started on it. I just had to sit down and write a minute while I was here.
I wasn’t the only person inspired by the sunshine to play outside. The weather coupled with the fact that it is spring break for students and teachers has brought everyone outdoors. The park is currently host to kids with kites, a high school Frisbee game, runners with dogs and baby strollers, people feeding geese, office folks taking a walk or lunch break, someone playing a bongo drum, children in trees, families picnicking, lovers (old and young) lounging, everyone alive and bathing in the light.
I regret that I forgot my camera; the snapshots would yield images of a lazy summer Sunday afternoon. If it wasn’t for the occasional sweatshirt and the silhouetted bare trees, you wouldn’t believe it to be March. What a glorious day.
Okay, I know many of you have all but given up on this blog and thinking Jonathan and I are major slacker bloggers… We’re both sorry. It turned out to be difficult coming up with posts for a blog that started as a venue for the road trip, rock climbing, and adventure, and now we’re landlocked in Kansas with no rock crags in sight. Index will continue. The blog will peak with roadtrips throughout the year, and we’re both thinking of local adventures to keep the blog stimulated. Jonathan will be exploring streams and rivers in the area to improve his fly fishing abilities and will likely catch zen-like moments more often than fish. He’ll also be visiting local farms, learning the finer details of farming, like how to raise and humanely get meat on his table, how to ride a horse bareback, and overall will set out to learn all the things he thinks everyone should know how to do. I will will dig into sustainable agriculture, exploring the art and lifestyle of permaculture, growing my own vegetables, composting and completing the cycle. I am also excited to get back to riding a bike in the Spring and Summer, so there will be lots to share. We will also maintain our (ahem) weekly portraits, so please don’t give up on Index.
The new blog will encompass every other aspect of us. The context will be much broader with very few limitations. It will include but is not limited to things we’re learning, things we find interesting, beautiful, projects we’re working on, ideas we’re exploring, thoughts about life, and life cycles, food we love, things we cook, restaurants that change the way we think about food, books we’re reading, ways to improve the way we live, and ways to save the planet, and everything in between. It will follow more of the day-to-day of our life.
So check out the new blog!
I didn’t run it, in fact have never done a race that far, but my family did. My sister, Heather, and my dad both finished the half marathon in under 2 hours this weekend, which is awesome for just over 13 miles! Heather is still plugging away at her 12 for 12 (1 race per month) for the year, though I think her average is much higher than one a month. Heather finished the half faster than she anticipated, but wants to up her game for the marathon in her future. My dad was less happy with the race, he loves the 5-8 milers. He said he didn’t want to run it again, though I think we can talk him into it. Maybe next time it will be a marathon. My other sister, Megan and her husband, Luke planned to run but unfortunately had some kind of law exams that took precedence. I wish I was closer, I would definitely have liked to keep my family company in this event.
But, sigh, I am 1500 miles away. So, instead I went out and ran by myself this weekend. I did run a little over 10 miles in their honor. I ran out of trail or maybe I would have gone farther. It was a beautiful day, so the distance didn’t feel bad. It helped that the sun was out, to keep me motivated.
I hope to schedule some family races soon. I actually enjoy running alone, but it is exciting to have our own pack.
I had a head full of information and I was ready to decompress. It was about 12:30 in the afternoon and I decided the best thing for me would be a little run. I set out to explore the trails I had recently discovered near the house. I have run out there a few times since the coyote incident, and found that the trail continues to follow the creek and went further than I had ventured. I found a map online for the trail system (see below, I am not sure what the Hiking part is, this whole area is virtually flat), and noticed that at one point it loops around a little pond. I set out to find this part of the trail, do the loop and come home.
It felt so good to be outside. I was breathing cool air, the sky was a consistant grey without sun, but everything was bright. The air smelled of damp earth and moss. I am sure I was smiling. There isn’t much foot or bike traffic out here, so I was alone on the trail and it felt great. I fell into a steady rhythm and my brain kept me pre-occupied with puzzles of life, projects I am working on, and dreaming up new ones. Every once in awhile I would “come to” with the screaming of a circling hawk, or when I noticed something in the landscape: a squirrel collecting leaves, a dog barking, a fork in the path that required a decision, that I had just ran through a puddle or slid on some ice.
I was rather startled when I came around one bend and found myself chasing 6 deer. My pace didn’t slow, in fact I think I picked it up. I pictured myself as part of wildlife, one animal chasing another in a scene from history. I had just finished the book “Born to Run” by Christopher McDougall. He makes the case that humans evolved into a running species. That our bodies are designed for running (no Nikes needed, thank you very much). That we actually can hunt by running things to death. I had no intention of attempting to run these animals to death, but I will admit that it was pretty entertaining. I stayed on the path running toward them. They sprinted ahead about 30 feet, then would stop, scatter and freeze. I would catch up and they would do it again criss-crossing down the path. There was a fence on the right that a few ran towards, and one into, but they didn’t jump over it. The creek was on the left, with plenty of woodland for them to loose me in, but for about half a mile the chase continued. Me at a constant pace, them scamperering and waiting for me to catch up. Finally the path widened, they pulled over and spread out in the trees to let me pass.
The trail kept winding its way around I felt strong and happy. The path split at a little park, so I went in the direction of what I thought would soon lead me around the pond. Some small birds were mating in the shrubs, and creating quite a racket. I was distracted by my thoughts, the sounds and the beauty, but I never saw the pond. I either passed it or took a wrong turn somewhere. Very abrubtly the trail just ended. It dumped me onto a road. That’s it, trail over. No sign or anything (that I noticed anyway).
I just jumped onto the sidewalk and kept running. I debated turning around and just zig-zagging my way home down the path, but thought better of it. I was sure that I had logged quite a few miles already and was well aware that it was wise for me to start heading home. It seemed to me that if I stayed on the main roads which are direct and straight, I would save myself a little time on the way back. I didn’t know what road I was on, or which direction I was headed. I just ran to the next intersection and turned onto a road I had never heard of. You would think that I would have noticed that the streets perpendicular to my path were numbered, and going up rather than down. I didn’t. I just ran on autopilot. I thought I was headed home, but was very wrong. I started passing signs indicating that I was in Olathe: the Olathe Fire Department, religious schools of Olathe, nothing looked familiar. There is one thing I knew – I live in Overland Park which is the town North of Olathe. Oh shit, I thought, now I had done it. I jumped into a 7-11 to ask for directions. He confirmed that I had indeed ventured pretty far South and had quite a run home.
I just turned around, and headed East. I still felt strong. I was starting to calculate my distance though, and was doubting that I would be able to make it home. I had gone about 10 or more miles before turning around. That means I still had that much ahead of me to get home. It was getting colder too. My brain turned against me. I tried to tell myslef that this was a fun adventure and I could make it home, but I kept hearing a voice inside telling me that I can’t run that far – how could I have gotten myself so turned around…Great.
I trudged down a large 4 lane road surrounded by fields. The landscape here is funny. It is pretty flat, so you don’t have much to reference. Over the fields you can see for what seems like miles. The only building visible all look the same, it is very disorienting. I passed an airport. I could have been in another country this area was so foriegn to me. I tried to focus on running. What were my arms doing? How was my stride? The funniest thing though was that I wasn’t even breathing very hard. I had run further than usual and I actually didn’t feel winded, and my body was still going. I turned down a road that I remembered going under when I was on the trail. The time spent on the trail was much more enjoyable than that on these big roads with cars and exhaust so, I decided to make my way back to the trail. I was relieved when I found the trail. Finally after what now seemed like forever, I was recognizing my surroundings. I could gage how far I was and approximately how much further I had to go.
My mental endurance was cracking before the physical though. I psyched myself out in the last 5 miles. My achilies tendons were starting to hurt, my fingers were cold. I stopped to stretch and rub my ankles. I walked for a bit, but walking actually hurt more than jogging. So, I jogged. My pace had considerably slowed. I felt like I was dragging my body forward. Suddenly a biker was taking shape and coming towards me. It was a familiar shape, and I realized it was Jonathan. He had come out looking for me. I had been gone over 3 hours. Seeing him, I was suddenly exhausted and ready to give up. I just wanted to jump on the bike and have him ride me home. But I didn’t. He rode home to get the car and meet on the main road so that he could shave the last couple of blocks off of my trip. I beat him to the intersection we were supposed to meet on, so I just kept jogging towards home. He picked me up 2 blocks from home. I was cold and tired and ready to collapse when I walked inside. I turned the shower on, but didn’t have the strength to stand up. I just sat there and let the hot water warm my body. I wasted a lot of water. Finally the water started to turn cold, so I bundled up and crawled into my bed. I passed out for about 2 hours.
I woke up and felt surprisingly good. My muscles were tight, my head was a little woozy (I hadn’t eaten all day), but I was coming to the realization of how far I had run. I think it took getting myself lost to prove that I could run that far. I have been pretty comforatable jogging a couple of miles at a time, up to about 8. I still thought of marathon distances as absurd, but I had just coming pretty close to a marathon and I hadn’t even meant to. That is inspiration for my future runs. Now that I know I can, I want to train harder and longer so that I can do it more gracefully and on purpose.
The star is an approximation of our house just North of where the map ends (and my run began/ends). The red line is the route I took. The image here is small and hard to read, but I have added the link to the pdf if anyone wants to see it better. overland park trail
The winter broke slightly, warmed up just enough to allow for running outside. A new adventure: runs in the suburbs of Kansas City. It is more entertaining than I would have expected. The family has 3 standard runs they refer to, and these are what I was running when we first arrived (weather permitting). There is the small lap, which is about 3 miles and is a 5 block square. Then there is the golf course lap, which is kind of an out-and-back run. We run out about 3 blocks, then cut back onto the golf course and follow the edge of the golf course back to the house. This lap is about 2.5 miles. The other significant route is the “big lap”. This combines the small lap run with another couple of blocks to make a large 6 mile loop. I started on the golf course lap, graduated to the small loop, and now regularly hit the big lap.
These runs are all on a pavement path alongside the busy traffic. I get bored, and would prefer an exploratory run, something a bit more meandering and less predictable. I find myself dreaming about joining the local trail running groups (the trail nerds, or the mud babes). They are anti-pavement (understandably), and meet a couple of times a week to pound out some miles at local parks and trails. I haven’t been able to synch my schedule with theirs yet, and maybe I am just a bit intimidated by the fact that they train for ultramarathons on muddy terrain. Until I become a “Mud Babe”, I will just do variations of our loops, get to the parks when I can, and just overall build up my base so that the trails don’t kick my ass too badly.
One evening around dusk, I decided to squeeze in a late run before it was completely dark. I started out on the “big lap”, but a couple of blocks into it I noticed that the path split. I was looking for an adventure, feeling pretty good, and didn’t care where I ended up. The air was crisp and cold, the kind that makes you feel a bit like you are having an asthma attack just breathing. The light was drifting away, but I had a few good minutes of sunset illumination. I took the new path. It took me underneath on overpass, and along a creek (I can’t tell out here which waterways are natural, which are man made, this one looks ornamental in placement as it winds around the golf course and then out to the business section – maybe it is just for runoff.). I was delighted to leave the sound and sight of the road. The creek was quietly bubbling along, frozen in spots. The path stretched out before me as far as I could see. The creek on the left, trees on my right. I could see the tall business buildings and parking lots behind the trees, but if I looked straight ahead, it felt like I could be in the woods. I focused on the sound of the wind rustling the dry leaves, the occasional splashing of water from the creek. My breathing felt loud against the other sounds. I tried to calm it, slow it down. As I ran further it became darker. I realized I didn’t know where I was going and this could be potentially dangerous. I had two options, turn around and go back the way I came (meaning I would now be going under a pitch black overpass, no thank you) or continue down this path and hope it pops out somewhere with lights and make my way home from there on the larger streets.
I decided to continue on. I should have explored it in the daylight first, but I didn’t want to wimp out on this new trail. Plus the thought of going back didn’t sound fun, the overpass a little creepy. So, I tried not to freak out, just enjoy the run. The moon was large, and helped light the trail, but the shadows all were in question. Funny how keen your hearing becomes when you loose the sense of sight. I suddenly could hear every rustling of wind, my feet crunching the ice and occasional snow patch seemed as loud as thunder. I focused again on my breathing, it really does help to calm my nerves.
Just about the time I was going to give up on this path and maybe even just dart through the trees to the nearest parking lot (civilization is seriously only a matter of feet in either direction) – I came around a slight bend to see another overpass – a highway, and the path split in two. I am sorry to say that I was actually relieved to find the highway. I took the turn to the right which follows it, and I now knew where I was relative to other things. The highway gave me plenty of light, and the path opened up, the highway was on my left just beyone a fence and about 20 ft of grass. On my right was a big grassy field, which was nice because I could see anything long before it got close to me.
I had just relaxed and felt more like I was safe in this comfortable urban setting when I heard a sudden crunching of snow just to my left. I saw nothing, there was some low woody shrubs, a couple of leafless trees, but nothing suspicious. Then I heard it again, this time I saw a dark shadow, low to the ground, moving quickly. Something was running beside me on the highway side of the fence. It bolted ahead, I caught a better glimpse of the shape. It looked like a medium sized dog. I kept running, not sure if a dog was trying to escape the highway, or attack me. I could see just ahead of me that the fence abruptly stops. My mind was preparing me for an animal attack. I didn’t want to look like I was frightened and running away from the dog, encouraging it to chase me, so I did what I thought was reasonable…I started to kind of softly sing to the animal. Hoping I would just get on it’s good side, it would see how nice I was and just want to be friends. My voice must have further startled the animal, as soon as I started it bolted across the path just in front of me. It wasn’t a dog at all. It was a coyote. Then another followed it. The first was quickly out of sight, and disappeared into the trees I just came from by the creek. The other ran a ways, then stopped and just watched me. I decided it was sizing me up – dinner or threat? I was encouraged that I was more intimidating for shear size, and felt relived and revived.
I practically sprinted to the next overpass, cut up onto the street and made my way home on a now familiar street. I felt alive, adrenaline pumping through my body from the excercise and the adventure. From now on though, I will either drag Jonathan along on these night runs, or just explore new territory in the daylight.
Enough is enough. Snow has been on the ground for the last two months and we haven’t made a single trip down a hill on skis or sled, we haven’t put together any snowmen or snow angels. Besides a few snowballs in passing and windshield scraping, we have all but avoided the snow. Now the snow is begging us to play in it, so we had to get out and play in it before it is gone.
We finally made the trip to the storage unit to find some snow gear. We found two sets of the family snowshoes. It was a chilly 6 degrees outside, but the sun was shining, and the wind was minimal, it was a perfect snow day. We bundled up in many warm layers, packed a lunch, grabbed the snowshoes and headed for Overland Park’s 300-acre Arboretum and Botanical Gardens.
We were surprised that there were a few other cars in the parking lot, and even more surprised when we found that the paths were plowed in places, and clear from cross-country skiers and other walkers in place. Why had we waited so long? Apparently these people hadn’t. Needless to say, the snowshoes were overkill and unnecessary, so we left them in the car.
The arboretum was a much needed dose of nature. The other cars must have been staff or people hanging out in the heated building, because we had the trails all to ourselves. One would think it was our first time in the snow. We literally frolicked down the trails, taking pictures of every limb heavy with snow, every bench buried deep, sculptures poking out stark against their white blanket. Jonathan ventured onto a frozen pond, and climbed around on shade structures.We were like kids running around in the park by ourselves, pointing out the animal tracks, and trying to name all of the birds we saw from the bird-watching station (we saw cardinals, a couple of varieties of woodpeckers, a few we couldn’t decipher, and lots of sparrows).
The sky was clear and blue, the air was crisp and the snow was bright white. It was invigorating and beautiful, a perfect afternoon. Now that we have located the snowshoes we are excited to break trail after the next snowstorm. Our timing is impeccable though, because the forecast calls for warmer weather, and no snow!
Let’s face it, being sick isn’t any fun. In fact, when I am sick I don’t want to do anything. I certainly don’t want to do physical activities, or have to concentrate or think too hard. I just want to be warm, comfortable, and rest until I feel better. Well, that is the situation we found ourselves in at the tail end of our stay in Tucson.
Jonathan came down with a nasty cold. He is Mr Tough Guy though and indulged my desire to keep going. We left Tucson and headed for Cochise Stronghold. This is a beautiful area in the Dragoon Mountains with huge formations of pink granite. There are lots of multi-pitch climbing routes here, but no guide book in print. We found a few descriptions online, and a few in our Arizona climbing guide, but I think route finding (or making) would be part of the adventure out here.
We camped on the forest service road in the valley below Cochise Stronghold. We woke to a perfect day, except Jonathan wasn’t feeling any better. He didn’t have energy to hike or climb, and certainly not for the route finding or multi-pitch climbing we had planned. We both had books, so tried to rest and read awhile and just see how we felt. This didn’t last long. We needed a plan (and water). We drove into the nearest town to stock up & rejuvenate. The nearest town is Tombstone. We had a good time wandering the nostalgic streets, petting donkeys and goats in the free petting zoo, but we didn’t locate any food worth stopping for or a grocery store. We skipped the gunfight (they wanted $5/each to watch) and drove on. The next town had a grocery store. We picked up food, filled our water containers, and ate some bad Mexican food. Jonathan wasn’t feeling any better. If we couldn’t climb we wanted internet. This town had nothing. We agreed to not go back to Cochise Stronghold, primarily because there isn’t a town close by with decent food or internet & we needed some comforts of a home base.
We thought we would try out New Mexico. We didn’t really have a destination, we just planned on getting to a larger town to hang out for awhile until we were ready to climb again. We made it to Las Cruces, home of New Mexico State University. New Mexico was noticeably colder than Arizona. We found a comfortable coffee shop and were happy to hang out here for awhile. We stayed the night, did a quick driving tour of town and jumped back on the highway.
We still hadn’t come up with much of an agenda. We were just driving, hoping that at some point Jonathan would regain his energy and we could start to play outside again. There were a couple of problems with this. We were driving North, and in central New Mexico we hit snow. We weren’t equipped for playing in the snow. The other issue is that as we approached Albuquerque I started to come down with Jonathan’s cold. By the time we got there, I couldn’t get excited about getting out of the car. We walked around the old town center, which was nice but my energy and enthusiasm was lacking. I am not the good sport Jonathan was when I am sick.
We sat in the van and deliberated. We could stay in Albuqueque maybe a day or two until we regained health. We could keep driving North, Jonathan wanted to show me Colorado Springs. We could drive South to warmer weather, and maybe eventually find some climbing in NM or Texas. Or, we could just end the road trip and make our way to Kansas early. Kansas would mean sleeping in a bed, hot showers, all the comforts of home. It felt like a no brainer. I was ready. Jonathan agreed. We would eat dinner and start on the road to Kansas.
We put two hours into the drive which was all snow and ice. We passed a semi that had jack-knifed. I was nervous, we were tired, so we called it a night and camped at a rest area. We woke early the next day and were on our way. We stopped only for gas and food. We were on a mission now with home calling. We flew through Texas. There was something sad about Texas. Maybe it was small acre-sized pens packed with a dense sea of cows, while just outside their fence were vast open spaces. Perhaps it was a stretch in Texas when I was driving (Jonathan was napping) and I counted 22 dead deer along the road. We kept a steady pace, and soon enough we were passing through the red soils of Oklahoma, and then we crossed into Kansas. The last hour seemed the longest of the whole trip.
We made it. We pulled into the driveway and knew rest was near. We were home, this road trip was over, but new adventures await.
I admit it, it was the first time I ever experienced a real desert. My only previous desert exposure was of the high deserts of Southern Idaho, Eastern Washington or Central Oregon. For some reason, I grouped the “other” deserts into a mental image of sandy dunes speckled with the occasional cactus and oasis of palm trees. This obvious naivety made for some delightful discoveries. I was ever astounded by the diversity in landscapes, ecosystems, subtlety of living things, and the intrinsic beauty of the deserts of the Southwest. For the better part of our trip we experienced life in the desert almost every day.
Our trek through deserts started weeks ago with a winding drive through Death Valley. This was on our trip from Yosemite to Red Rocks. I was so focused on my queasy belly, trying hard not to get car sick, that I hardly noticed my surroundings. In fact, I couldn’t wait to be out of there. It felt like I was stuck on a roller coaster of never ending switchbacks through hills of nothing. On that drive I really didn’t think there was anything to see.
We spent the following weeks in the Mojave desert at the Red Rocks outside of Vegas. This is where I became more acquainted with the flora and fauna of these dry lands. I slipped and fell onto a prickly joshua tree, I encountered wild burros (a few times), and was constantly aware of various prickly things poking at my feet, and scratching my legs as we hiked around the rocky soil. It is curious that even the trees and grasses in the desert are so well equipped for battle. It is a game of survival and endurance that gives them all tough skin, thick needles and spines.
In Arizona, we had our home base in Tucson and viewed a totally different desert. The Sonaran Desert was more like a forest of Saguaro cactus. I was very impressed by there size and arm configurations, even more so when I found out that they usually take about 70 years to grow a single arm. Arizonians love the Saguaro, which blooms with the state flower. They have made it illegal to cut them down (or damage them in any way). I have never really appreciated the cactus before. I was struck by how many varieties of cactus we saw.
We saw more high desert as we passed through Tombstone Az and headed into New Mexico. The landscapes continued to change and surprise me with their beauty.
While in Tucson, the five (Keith, Kim, Ben, Jonathan & I) of us decided to break Keith into climbing on his future turf. We got a late start to the day, because we needed to have our breakfast of dutch babies and coffee. Then we had to relax off a food coma before we could all gather the mutual energy to leave Keith & Kim’s house. We were going to Mt Lemon. On our way, we stopped by a shop to check out some books of the climbing area. Instead of buying them it was decided that we only needed 2 pages, to purchase a complete book didn’t make that much sense. We quickly appointed Keith to take a photo of the necessary pages. The rest of us dispersed to not be found as an accomplice to our idea. To be fair, Keith is a good sport, but was more than a little uncomfortable with the idea. With the photo taken we were set to go, we would refer to his digital screen for info about the area we had chosen.
The drive to Mt Lemon was pretty incredible in and of itself. We left Tuscan behind, drove through a forest of Saguaro cactus that turned into a scrubby pines as we gained elevation. The pine gave way to large granite formations and bolders. We found our destination, an unmarked pull-out past the 10 mile marker. Upon trying to locate some of the routes, we realized our photo was less than helpful. None of us could agree on which routes were which from the drawing. Our stolen guidebook photo plan was foiled. We gave up on the photo, and just scouted the area. We decided on two routes that appeared to be moderate.
The first route was a short trad climb with one bolt and anchors at the top. It was fairly easy, except for one tricky move which required a great deal of balance and a high left leg to move from a thin seam to the much easier arete. It was a good warm up and even Ben (who is recovering from a shoulder injury) jumped on.
The wind was picking up as it was getting later, and standing around was really chilly. We still decided to do the second route. This route was a bolted sport route. Jonathan lead it first, and decided to place a few pieces in addition to the existing bolts to better protect the climb. This climb was longer than the first, and a few grades more difficult. It was really a nice find though. We all enjoyed it.
The late start made for a short day of climbing, but it was fine, because the weather was getting colder and windier, and we were all getting pretty hungry. Keith mentioned the connection he’s made in the past between rocks and Mexican food, and since he’s a geologist we all believed him. We left Mt. Lemon in search of margaritas and burritos. Tucson is close to the Mexican border but unexplainably there are more hot dog stands than taco trucks. So we followed the recommendations of Kim and Keith’s past experience and went to a restaurant near their home, and it was perfect. Homemade tortillas, guacamole, chips, and margaritas. We were happy and soon to be full and sleepy.
jonathan
kristine
