Long Live The Van

This post luckily wouldn’t land in the obituary section of the paper, but it would probably only be a section or two away.

Our 1993 Eurovan has been quite a trooper over the last three months. It carried us along never breaking down, except for the the self-induced dead battery that we found after a long day of climbing at Smith Rock… I had pulled my signature move of leaving the lights on ‘for safety’ as we dubbed it over the course of the trip. We got the help of another fellow climber. His truck and our jumper cables got us back on the road. Beauty!

After a few days back home we finally made the 35 mile trip West to my old college town, Lawrence, home of the Jayhawks! We spent the day with some good friends and then spend the night in Lawrence. After a cold night and waking up to temperatures in the single-digits we were barely able to break into our frozen sealed van. We managed, only to feel a very odd slump in our van. I rocked it back and forth a few times thinking the snow had built up around the tires and was temporarily holding it prisoner. Up and away we went but the strange sensation from the rear left tire did not go away. I stopped a few blocks later and took a walk around the van. It was sure frigid outside, and I couldn’t see anything that gave away what was wrong. I started to realized it felt like the brakes. I couldn’t explain it yet, but that’s what it felt like. I pumped the foot break a couple times to no avail. At least the place I had in mind for breakfast was only a short drive away.

Wheat Fields has a warm place in my heart. It’s where I learned what good bread really tastes like, what the inside of a ciabatta is supposed to look and taste like. It’s a nationally acclaimed bakery that serves up artisan breads, pastries, breakfast, and lunch. Definitely a Lawrence trademark. Kristine even opted for a rich and spicy chocolate truffle.

I then had promised Kristine I’d take her to buy some warm clothes and what better place than Target. We drove to the sprawling strip-malls of Lawrence. It was there that we realized our rear back tire was seized and we’d been dragging it since we left the house that morning. We were fortunate that the snow and ice on the road had facilitate dragging our gimp wheel around town, but it certainly wasn’t doing our van any good. After some very cold minutes jacking up the van and scouting underneath it I realized it was the emergency brake that had somehow seized overnight. In retrospect I would not have applied the e-brake, but it’s such a habit with driving manual transmissions. It looked like a leak in the line had allowed water in while driving it around the day before, which had then frozen overnight when the temperature dropped.

We bought a repair kit at Target, which included a tire iron, a hair drier, an extension cord, and a power adapter for our cigarette lighter to an outlet for our hair drier. The plan was to warm up the line enough to loosen the seized brake line. This is what happened: We blew the fuss on our cigarette lighter since it takes a lot more wattage to run a hair drier than what the AC power can put out. We dragged our van around to find a outlet we could use. We parked across some handicap parking in front of Cutler’s Custard and I began blow drying the underside of our van. Realizing the futile nature of what I was doing I called to be rescued by the Road Side Assistance that Kristine and I had smartly added to our insurance coverage before the trip. With the streets clearing up we had become stranded driving only on the melting snow patches that remained. Getting towed home was the best option.

An hour later we were home, the van was dropped off and sat in the back of our friend’s house. I’d give it a day before attempting to fix it, plus the following day looked like it would be a little warmer than that day. So we perched up for the day at my friends house. Here’s Kristine cozied up and reading–a picture straight out of Dwell.

I succeeded in fixing the frozen emergency brake. It developed a funny noise since then that I imagine was caused by all the dragging around we did that day. It’s still something I need to look into. Along with getting a replacement rear right bumper, which apparently fell off while driving around yesterday, or maybe someone really desperate stole it. Either way it’s gone.

But the van lives on!

Reunion in Tucson

We left Red Rocks and headed South, straight to Tucson. The drive proved to be a pretty long day made longer by a delay due to construction at the Hoover Dam. We drove stopping only to make a quick soup for a late lunch. We arrived in Tucson late in the evening but our friends had waited to have dinner with us. Kim and Keith’s new pad was really nice. It was exciting to hear them talk about all the plans they already had for their new home. Benny was also there making a guest appearance for a couple days, and so we all sat down to some delicious homemade lasagna–Thank You Kim!

It felt a bit like we had arrived at home. Good friends and good food always make you feel that way but especially so for Kristine and I who welcomed the lost comforts we had left in Seattle.

We ended up spending a few days in Tucson. We went climbing at a crag on Mt. Lemon the day after we arrived–Kristine will have more on this. It’s the only time that pictures were taken of our time in Tucson, which is regrettable since the city was so nice and the desert was so beautiful but Kristine will try to recapture the lure of the desert in a future post.

Keith took off early the morning after climbing on Mt. Lemon. He’s on his way back to apply the finishing touches on his masters degree in Salt Lake, as well as lick as much frosting off the climbing and myriad of outdoor opportunities in Utah before he moves down to Tucson in the Spring. Benny also took off that same morning. He had taken care of some maintenance that his motorcycle needed and was ready to get back on the road. I think his destination had something to do with many ‘soaks’ at hot springs, backroads, and adventures. I can’t even begin to concoct the kind of stories I’ll hear when we share a drink together at Free State in Lawrence this Christmas. I just wish him safe and happy travels!

Kristine and I stayed another day and a half after those two boys had left. We stayed long enough for Kim to get us hooked on sitcom that’s now off the air, but has an apparently rising cult-like following that’s growing. The show is Arrested Development. Kristine called it ‘stupid humor’. And I quietly thought to myself how stupid I must be because of how funny I thought it was. It was definitely quirky. In the short time we were there we polished off 2/3 of the first season and Kim sent us packing with the last dvd for the season, which we finished the next day. Should we be looking up the number to ADAA (Arrested Development Addicted Anonymous)?

We hit the road for Cochise Stronghold. A fairly new area that has a bunch of old school climbers constantly putting up new routes on the beautiful pink granite. We were stoked!

Here’s a few of the ‘best of’ pictures of our friends while on Mt. Lemon:

Kristine and Benny sharing a moment while Kristine takes her shoes off after climbing.

Two tough-guy faces.

Kim lovin’ on Keith a bit.

The gang!

A picture I snapped when we got back to the car and everyone got caught staring off in a similar direction.

EPIC: Atman Crack.10a

Keith’s second and last day with us was EPIC! It was so epic I’m breaking it up into two posts. One for each one of the climbs we did that day.

We hiked back up Kraft Mountain to a few crack climbs that some climbers had raved about while we were all around a camp fire a few nights before. Walking around the corner and seeing the Atman crack for the first exalted praise and aw from all of us. Things like, ‘Beautiful!’ ‘You got to climb it!’ ‘Oh my god.’ ‘Indian Creek.’ It’s rated 10a, and would be my most ambitious trad lead yet. Here’s Keith leaning out over the top of the crack, of course tied in to the natural anchor we built first.

Here’s the crack in its entirety. It presented a difficult shooting situation because of the high contrast between the sun grazing the top of the climb and the shadow the rest of the climb was in. Keith handled it like a pro and all it took was some contrast adjustment during post processing to make these images great.

Keith’s pictures captured more than just my leading the climb. He captured something I’ve very much wanted to share with friends and family: What Kristine and I are actually doing when we’re ‘climbing’, and how we do it. So I’ll narrate as the pictures tell the real story:

Kristine and I reach a climb, I tie in to the end of the rope, she puts me ‘on belay’, and I make sure I have all the gear I need for the climb. We always double-check each other–knots and so forth. I usually turn my hat backwards while on the rock. I do it because I saw Sonnie Trotter do it on his first ascent of Cobra Crack, 5.14, up in Squamish, B.C. For those interested check out the video by Patagonia. It’s bad ass! Anyway, here’s our cheery disposition at the beginning of the climb.

When climbing cracks, which is also called ‘trad’, short for ‘traditional’, you hand and foot jam in the crack to move up the climb. This climb had an especially hard and tricky beginning. The crack wasn’t quite wide enough to get the meat of my hand in. I was jamming in the crack just past my knuckles, which was a little insecure and painful. I’m wearing tape gloves on my hands to minimize the damage, although after this climb the backside of my right hand was pretty wrecked. This kicks off a great sequence of moves up the first half of the climb. You can see Kristine belaying, which is something of an art when lead belaying. She manages the rope that is out and is ready for a fall at any time, she feeds out rope as I climb, and is generally aware of everything that I’m doing and how the rope is involved.

After a few failed starts I finally got some momentum and made it half way up the crack before my forearms, pumped full of blood, screamed for mercy. I hung on a piece that I had placed and let out wild groans of pain and pleasure. Then back to climbing.

I anticipated putting in another piece of gear, which I put in my mouth while I had a good hand jam in, then climbed on with the piece in my mouth.

Now I placed the size 2, yellow cam, which is short for the Black Diamond ‘camalot’. They come in all different sizes and I have to choose the right one for that sized crack. It’s what makes trad climbing so engaging.

I’ve now clipped my rope to a beaner that’s attached to the cam. This is what protects me were I to fall at any point during the climb. It’s each climbers discretion and experience that dictates how much protection to use and how often. On this climb I kept myself pretty well protected, not being more than six or seven feet between placements.

After climbing past the #2 cam I was very close to the top and I placed my last piece, a #3 cam. With my arms and legs shaking I took an involuntary rest when my body gave out and I sat in my harness, against the rock, breathing hard and feeling humble.

One final and perfect hand jam!

While my eyes are looking up to find the final moves that will take me home, I’m really looking inside and scrapping down deep to muster the last bit of strength, spit, and courage to make this fat lady sing.

A climber at peace coiling his rope.

This was an amazing climb! I thank Kristine for the flawless belay and for giving me her time on a climb that was beyond her ability to follow.

In the last few years Keith has been fostering along a photographic interest that has developed into a full-blown skill, which I am indebted to for all the pictures that he took on this day (and every other day); as well as the motivation to get on this climb and make it to the top.

There was a beautiful 11c climb called Ying Yang Crack on the adjacent wall to Atman. It sat upon our gaze for quiet some time, until Keith and I vowed that we’d return to climb it. Just the kind of motivation we need for another climbing rendezvous!

Happy Thanksgiving

Today, while you all eat your turkey, mashed potatoes, and pumpkin pie, Jonathan and I will be enjoying our last day here in Vegas, at the Red Rocks. We will cram as much climbing as possible into our last day, and (hopefully) since it is a holiday we won’t have crowds to contend with.

We have been here for three fantastic weeks. While not a fan of Vegas, the rocks have held our attention and enthusiasm. We could easily stay another month and still not have done 1/2 of the climbs here. This gives us a good excuse to come back and send the climbs that challenged us on this trip and venture out to try more of the ones we haven’t yet experienced.

Our trip has been so fun and full of adventures, the time has flown by. It is hard to believe that it is already Thanksgiving – a big mile marker signaling only a few weeks left until Christmas, the end of the road (for awhile).  I suppose there are definite signs that we have been on the road – Jonathan’s ever growing beard, the state of our small wardrobe (dirty and increasing in number of holes), the stronger climbing ability and leaner bodies. I guess we have been doing this awhile.

Tomorrow we head south to Arizona to spend a few days with some friends in Tucson. We will enjoy their company, some good food, and some time playing outdoors. Jonathan & I are still a bit unsure of our plans after Tucson – maybe we will meet up with Ben for a soak (his hot spring pass time), climb in some local crags, head back to California for some time in Joshua Tree, or let the wind blow us  somewhere new like New Mexico.

To all our family and friends we send our love – enjoy your feasts, the long weekend, and the half marathon (good luck Heather!) – Happy Thanksgiving!

A Tribute to my Friends

Kristine and I had a special visit from two old friends of mine. They both coincidentally arrived in Las Vegas within an hour of each other late Saturday afternoon.

The fine looking gent on the right is Keith Beisner. He was first to arrive in his little sedan that was packed to the gills with furniture he’s moving from Salt Lake City to his recently purchased house in Tucson. He’s a semi-pro climber who’s stuck in the body of a struggling grad student. Luckily he’s on what looks like the final stretch and will hopefully be spending more time on his true passion: climbing & spending all his time outdoors.

My man Ben Reader is on the left. I call him either Benny or Benny-boy, it’s been that way since we met back in our college days. He showed up second after a few bad directions I gave him and sent him touring the greater Las Vegas area. Kristine, Keith, and I had gone into the nearby Borders to wait for him and sit and chat in a warm place. Kristine saw what could have been a homeless man walk up behind me and grab the back of my shoulders in the way only brothers do. I recognized the strong grip and stood to give my friend a warm hug. It has been months since I’d seen him last and he’s been fishing in Alaska, they almost lost the boat when they cracked the hull and barely made it back to shore, after the season was over he joined a crew and sailed down to San Francisco. He bought the Kawasaki he showed up on and he’s been touring the lower Western states until he sustained a fall while playing frisbee golf and has been soaking in hot springs to rejuvenate his hurt shoulder. He’s like wolverine and I’m sure will heal up in no time.
* Note: We would all look homeless if we rode a motorcycle across the country and didn’t groom in the conventional way.

That night we shared good wine, pumpkin beer, bratwursts, baked potatoes, and epic stories, all around a cozy fire. I learned of the cocoon that both my friends had recently emerged from. Keith had found his sense of community in Salt Lake City while exploring the great outdoor opportunities that Utah has to offer. He has recovered from a torn ankle something-or-rather. It’s been months of rehab and our friend was better than ever. His wife, Kim, found her dream job with the USGS and is waiting patiently for Keith to join her. Kristine and I will be heading down to Tucson for Thanksgiving and look forward to every minute we’ll spend with them!

I found Ben very happy. Happier than the last few times I’d seen him. He was finding his sense of self and living his life exactly like he wanted. He’s the free-est spirit I know and a true vagabond in the best way. He shared the sweetest strawberries with us that he had gotten from an underground source, he graciously shared his delicious bread he bought at a well-known bakery in Bishop, CA, he even had sage honey to top the bread with. He had two different types of chocolates that we relished as they made their way around the fire. It was like watching Marie Poppins as he pulled more and more exotic goods from his small stash on the back of his bike. Not sure where it was all coming from. He even wanted us to eat a pomegranate that wanted to be eaten, but which we just didn’t have the appetite for anymore. Crazy!

Here’s the family portrait. The picture on the left is the one taken for my Mom, and the one on the right includes the dubs-effect I strive to give every picture I’m in.

Benny got on the road early the next morning. Keith stayed to climb with us for the next two days. More to come on those adventures!