Ten Days in "The Creek"
I can't remember when it was or where it was for that matter, but somewhere along the way someone said, "Hey, we should make a trip out to the creek". That's where it began. Momentum continued until one day I sat by my little black hatchback in Davis California waiting for Jeff, Diane and Marek to pick me up. The gray Tacoma pulled up and Jeff and Marek popped out, beers already in hand and proceeded to give me huge hugs followed by syncronistic pissing near the tires of the truck. I thought to myself, "Yup, so it begins".
Four people in a truck for 15 hours with nothing of a back seat but jumper seats in the access cab is a hard sell. Luckily the psych was strong with this crew. We were ready to climb and the draw of splitter sandstone pulled us along the highway like the tractor beam of an alien ship pulling up an unsuspecting drunk redneck on a Friday night preparing to anal probe him against his wishes. They left the bay at 3 and picked me up in Davis around 4:30. Jeff had the helm until about 10:30 when I took over. I went strong until about 3:30, getting us through Salt Lake City. Diane pulled the short straw and took the tough leg. I woke up, curled in the back of the Tacoma my ass still asleep. It was 5:45, we were in the desert and the sun was out; from here on it was easy sailing. We pulled into Moab, bought last minute rations and filled up a weeks worth of water before embarking again into the desert.
We pulled into camp at about 9am; tired, sore and happy. We pulled everything out of the truck, set up tents, set up a tarp to guard the water and coolers from the desert sun, cracked a beer and fell asleep.
Sleep didn't last long as we were all too excited to get on some rock. We mulled around a bit, drank some coffee and by noon we were on the approach to The Fin. The Fin is a beautiful mesa perched right behind where we set up camp and it was nice to hit up the best most beautiful piece of rock first. The wall got bigger as we marched up the talus cone to the base. I was almost in a different world, struck by the wonder of the wall. Unfortunately, my wonder almost got me struck by something else as I heard the ominous rattle under my foot just a step before the base of the crag.
I looked down to see a brightly colored baby rattle snake and what I later found out to be the very poisonous pygmy rattler, well known to frequent the base of The Fin. I jumped back and nearly jumped out of my soon to be desert worn skin. Luckily my trip was not over before it began and the snake slithered under a rock.
We all put up Walkin' Talkin Bob and a unnamed hand/finger crack just right of Fintastic. The smile on Marek's face said it all as I belayed him up his first climb. I thought the guy was literally either going to orgasm or cry or both. After I got on the rock I understood completely. We found what we came for.
We all put up Walkin' Talkin Bob and a unnamed hand/finger crack just right of Fintastic. The smile on Marek's face said it all as I belayed him up his first climb. I thought the guy was literally either going to orgasm or cry or both. After I got on the rock I understood completely. We found what we came for.
As we packed up and started down the base of The Fin, we came across another party working Brother from Another Planet, a very famous 5.12 off-width crack that has a beautifully wide roof that requires the climber to invert himself/herself from a hand-stack. Luckily we were there to witness this move and damn did it get me stoked. The guy ended up popping out and whipping big into the vacant air under the giant roof, but we all felt it...
This IS going to be a great week guys!
This IS going to be a great week guys!
The next day the weather wasn't looking promising. Undeterred, we headed to Supercrack Wall to, well, go for it. Chris started up 3am crack and Marek up Wild Works of Fire. It was drizzling and Marek looked at me questioning whether he should go for it. I looked at him and said "Well if you're not then I am"! That's all it took and he raced up the crack with all the fury his challenged ego could muster. Unfortunately for him, the crack ended and a few face moves on the slick sandstone were required for him to make the chains. Half way up the drizzle turned to rain and the rain to a pour. He slipped off the face and the still dry crack held his cam as he whipped into the pouring rain. I opted not to put it up after him, the rope already soaked and my jeans sticking to my thighs. We bailed into the truck and motored back to Moab to enjoy the rain in the wonderful sanctuary of a Moab watering hole.
We arrived back at camp after that, the rain stopped and the wind blowing. I laced up my running shoes and with GPS in hand, started running North. I wrapped around Bridger Jack Mesa and found a beautiful valley/canyon with a dirt road winding though an endless expanse of land. I went 6.5 miles out before turning around. I remember feeling so blessed, so lucky. I grinned ear to ear as I was the only human around. This was all mine, if only for a moment.
We arrived back at camp after that, the rain stopped and the wind blowing. I laced up my running shoes and with GPS in hand, started running North. I wrapped around Bridger Jack Mesa and found a beautiful valley/canyon with a dirt road winding though an endless expanse of land. I went 6.5 miles out before turning around. I remember feeling so blessed, so lucky. I grinned ear to ear as I was the only human around. This was all mine, if only for a moment.
The next day we were hesitant to climb. It had rained the evening before and sandstone always takes time to dry before it's safe and kosher to climb on. Cams can rip and holds can break off and I don't want to be the person responsible for either. The decision was made to climb the Cave Route at Battle of the Bulge. It's a thin off-hands right-facing corner that sits in an alcove protected from the weather. It was dry and we all nominated Kat to put it up. The climb is .75's and #1's the entire way up and for her small hands that's the perfect size hand jam. She did great and after we all had a few burns, we put up a #5 directional at the top of the cave entrance and climbed the Wiggins Chimney.
The day turned out to be sunny and warm and we ended up climbing a bunch after that. Jeff and Diane both put up Warm-Up and the Jeff sailed up Jane Fonda's Total Body Workout. I got halfway up Jagged Wedge, a beautiful looking 5.10 off-width before realizing that I just didn't have the gear. I lowered off a #5 and climbed Warm-up to the right, penduluming over to clean my gear. Despite the hesitation, the day turned out to be a perfect. I got the Cave clean on TR and I started to feel comfy on the off-hands. Marek and I swore to go back and lead it but the time didn't permit and we never got around to it the remainder of the trip.
The day turned out to be sunny and warm and we ended up climbing a bunch after that. Jeff and Diane both put up Warm-Up and the Jeff sailed up Jane Fonda's Total Body Workout. I got halfway up Jagged Wedge, a beautiful looking 5.10 off-width before realizing that I just didn't have the gear. I lowered off a #5 and climbed Warm-up to the right, penduluming over to clean my gear. Despite the hesitation, the day turned out to be a perfect. I got the Cave clean on TR and I started to feel comfy on the off-hands. Marek and I swore to go back and lead it but the time didn't permit and we never got around to it the remainder of the trip.
That night reinforcements arrived with the other crew getting to town. On Monday we all headed out to Way Rambo Wall and what a day we had. I put up Rochambeau, Close Course, and Desire and TRed a bunch of fun climbs including The Fuzz and Layaway Plan. Close Course was this wide chimney that is protectable by this thin seam that runs the length of the climb. At the top you're required to make a move, throwing your body out of the chimney and into a sandy crag. As I did it a heard a loud rip and I looked down to see a giant hole in my jeans right in my crotch. No time for shame on lead, I popped a second blue alien behind the brittle sandstone that I was sure would break of with even body weight.
Marek and I both did our best to hit on the cute French girl who was leading this rad 5.12 finger crack and without any shame he asked her to put up a rope for us. We crushed ourselves that day and I surely felt it on the hike back.
Marek and I both did our best to hit on the cute French girl who was leading this rad 5.12 finger crack and without any shame he asked her to put up a rope for us. We crushed ourselves that day and I surely felt it on the hike back.
Tired and in need of a beer, I was in no mood for caution as Jeff, Diane and myself were approached on the trail. He was tall, a little goofy in his gait and wore a full motorcycle helmet. Jeff and traded stares as we looked around for his bike. His greating was only "I'm looking for Marek". Our answer, "Yeah he's the one in the orange jacket with the two girls". Like I said, too tired for caution. This goofy-looking weirdo turned out to be just that. Kelly was from the bay area and he was responding to a message Marek put up on the board looking for a ride back to the bay or Yosemite a week after we intended to leave the creek. Kelly hitched himself to our wagon with the fervor only generated by a man who has been alone in the desert for too long. A nice guy, we all enjoyed his antics over the next couple days and I'm sure he will be brought up in the future to stoke a spontaneous laugh from us all.
On Tuesday, I had a hankering for the classics and I wanted to head to Donnelly to knock out Generic Crack, Incredible Hand Crack and Super Crack. I started on Generic and loved every move. It took eight #2's, two #3's and my #4 and at 120 feet, one 70 meter rope stretched just enough to get me back to the ground. From there I stuck around, opting not to cross over to Super Crack Wall and I knocked out Binou's Crack and Chocolate Corner. This being day 3 for us, we were all worked and by mid-afternoon and there was simply nothing left in the tank.
We made our way back to camp and with a rest day slated for Wednesday, we were in the mood to get loose. I think it was Jeff that started the war paint. By the end of the night the Maker's Mark was gone and Jeff looked like he just got into a fight with the poker stick we used for the fire.
On Wednesday we slept in late and headed into Moab after a big breakfast. Kat and I had plans on a run, Jeff and Diane planned on a romantic bike ride and Kelly planned a romantic hike for him and Marek. Not sure what happened to Kelly after that but Jeff and Diane's bike ride was a bust, so we all ended up going out to Hidden Valley Trailhead and hiking or running up to the pass. The pass itself was this lush high desert field of dancing purple flowers and rolling waves of tall grass and we hurdled the occasional tumbleweed as we ran the single-track. At the top of the pass was a narrow notch that opened into another world almost as if I was Prince Caspian opening the door to Narnia. We explored the Turtleback domes and the 4th class mesas and found cracks in the ground that held the secrets of their hidden worlds underneath. By the end of the day we all made our way to Eddie McStiffs for beers and burgers and met Thomas, Jeff's friend who just arrived from Boulder, CO to join us.
On Thursday, Shannon and I woke up to the objective of climbing a tower. Everyone had a different goal on the Bridger Jacks and we swapped gear in camp, trying to figure out what we all need before setting out from camp on the 45 minute hike up to the base of the Bridger Jacks. Shannon and I had a fairly easy objective. We wanted to climb Thunderbolt on Easter Island Tower. It's a two pitch climb that starts with a 5.8 crack and finishes with a beautiful 5.10 bolted face route that traverses the tower, wrapping around corner after corner on balancy face moves. Shannon took the first pitch and I was left with the sport climb that actually turned out to be loads of fun. Finding the small edges, two-finger pockets and hidden underclings, I made my way up, topping out on my first desert tower. I felt good and the feeling will be hard to top. Shannon made a joke referencing the "Eiger Sanction", a 1974 film with George Kennedy and Clint Eastwood. As she said it I instantly regretted not sneaking beer into her pack. We rapped down and still had 5 hours of daylight to climb with. Without transportation we started hiking past camp and over to Optimator Wall where we both put up a route on Charlie's Pillar. Felling good a started up a 5.11 hand crack that dramatically thinned out at the crux. I made it up, scaring the ba-jesus out of myself a little. We worked it for the next couple hours figuring out the moves to get the route clean
On Friday, feeling strong and confident after the week of climbing under our belts, we headed to Scarface crag. We started with Spam and knocked out Trading Places, Black Uhuru and an unamed thin-hands route before moving over to Scarface. After that they crew moved over to Dirt Cheap and I drug Chris out to Wavy Gravy to give me a belay. Jeff continued to crush of course and sent an 11 called Drain Pipe as Thomas sweated through the belay.
That same day, Ian, Shannon and Jos snuck off to tackle the Kor-Engles route on Castleton Tower. Getting stuck behind a slow party they didn't get in until late and I was not nearly in the mood to ask about the climb at 1am when she crawled into the tent.
That same day, Ian, Shannon and Jos snuck off to tackle the Kor-Engles route on Castleton Tower. Getting stuck behind a slow party they didn't get in until late and I was not nearly in the mood to ask about the climb at 1am when she crawled into the tent.
With one day left, we headed to Second Meat Wall to chase the shade. We found an amazing nook that offered one classic 5.10 after another. I started on Evening Ecstasy and moved right with Smell the Meet, Sweet Meats and Tofu Crack. A scrum of college boys set up camp at Tofu Crack hogging the classic and hoping to impress two women they brought along but from the looks of it those boys were gonna be solo in their sleeping bags. Hint: When a girl keeps talking about her boy who isn't around, my guess is she isn't in an open relationship. One of the girls did turn out to be super rad and I ended up chatting with her for a bit.
We worked on Two Timer and Swedish Meatball before heading over to Top Sirloin. Jeff ended his trip by onsighting Xtra Lean, a gnar-balls burlfest of a finger crack. The base turned out to be so thin that I could barely squeeze my tips in to make the first move. Chris and Marek both destroyed themselves on Top Sirloin, a climb that takes a minimum of 9 #1's. Marek ended up back-cleaning the route because 9 wasn't enough for him. They suffered through it as did their belayers and by the end of the day we were all pretty thrashed and trashed.
We worked on Two Timer and Swedish Meatball before heading over to Top Sirloin. Jeff ended his trip by onsighting Xtra Lean, a gnar-balls burlfest of a finger crack. The base turned out to be so thin that I could barely squeeze my tips in to make the first move. Chris and Marek both destroyed themselves on Top Sirloin, a climb that takes a minimum of 9 #1's. Marek ended up back-cleaning the route because 9 wasn't enough for him. They suffered through it as did their belayers and by the end of the day we were all pretty thrashed and trashed.
Beaten up, sore, dirty, smelling of campfire and acclimatized to the ritual of the wag bag, the time finally came when we had to say goodbye to our little piece of paradise. We had done what we came to do and we left much stronger and more mature climbers than we came. Our hands full of gobi's, our legs and shoulders shredded from the abuse; only battle wounds, marks of pride that we will look upon with joy over the next few weeks as we heal ourselves. Even more inspired to climb than when we came, I can't get enough of this stuff. The bonds with brothers forged in the fires of our camp. The epic struggles self-inflicted by the mix of hubris and fear we have as we rack up at the base of a challenging climb. The open country with scenes that seem to never go into re-runs. I feel like I could have stayed out there forever, but instead I came back with a renewed sense of purpose, memories that will engender laughs and tears for the rest of my life and a recharge for mind, body and soul from the satisfying rays of the desert sun. We are indeed, The Champions.