Find Your Way Back » Home

  • Posted on February 22, 2012

It’s Cold

The other day I partook in one of the more bitter-cold climbing sessions I’ve had in a long while. Low thirties, no sun, a steady breeze, and extra humidity due to our proximity to the river all contributed to the misery. What was the occasion? Well, some new boulders close to home are hard to pass up… And they’re over a frozen river… And the rock’s phenomenal…

These two beauties were put up by a man called Metro only a few weeks ago. For their proximity to the road and the quality of the rock this is a little surprising but a roaring river is something of a deterrent I guess. Anyways, go check them out! New! Oh, and making his directorial debut is none other than Mr. 9a himself, Ben Spannuth!

  • Posted on February 20, 2012

Font

Usually we don’t include climbing in the same discussion with sports such as, say, sprinting or horse racing because it moves too slow, is too controlled and doesn’t necessarily have a defined starting (as well as finishing) line. Also, comparing one’s self to another is a little more difficult under climbing’s parameters. One similarity between climbing and these other sports is the ease with which the participants seem to be succeeding at their given tasks. When climbing goes right it goes REALLY right and anyone without an insider’s knowledge into a given route or problem is left scratching their heads as to why that was so hard. Similarly, a sprinter redlining in the 100 meters is moving very fast, yes, but is also moving with ultimate control and fluidity, every muscle fiber, tendon, ligament, etcetera, being utilized to its fullest potential. No energy wasted, no movement out of place. A horse and jockey rounding the fourth turn and making a move on the outside are not muscling their way to the finish, they are harnessing momentum and letting go. This is climbing in Font.

Font is a shift of the hips, a rolling back of the shoulders, a subtle toe scum, an assertive edging, a quick kick. Font is a blend of power and tension not commonly found elsewhere. Climbing in Font can be the most beautiful, effortless, and natural thing you’ve ever seen or it can be a kicking-and-screaming affair. Occasionally it’s the latter soon followed by the former. Climbing in Fontainebleau is an exercise in getting things “right”. Now, look and see if I did things “right”…

  • Posted on February 16, 2012

A Day Late and a Dollar Short

I once had a teacher in middle school tell me that I was “always a day late and a dollar short” and, while that certainly was true in middle school, I’d like to think I’ve moved past this moniker. I mean, sure, I’m usually a little late to work (not an entire day thankfully), and rarely do I remember to pay rent on the first of the month, and I’m always rushing from place to place because I’m behind schedule, and so on and so forth, but in general I’ve got my shit together. Right?  Well, sometimes things conspire against me and my whole competency as a human is compromised. Luckily, this was not one of those times… I was only rock climbing.

My goal after the Alpine season had drawn to a close was to find some new things to climb close to home. With this in mind I laced up my hiking shoes and began exploring some of the boulder-filled canyons of the Flatirons near Boulder. Now I personally love the Flatirons and think that they  provide not only breathtaking lines to be climbed but also some of the best settings for bouldering. There are still places that feel wild and where you can’t hear cars and sirens. These Flatirons also provide a constant refuge for a boulderer who’s tired of doing the usual Front Range circuits. Anyways, I turned my focus to the Central and Northern areas of the Flatirons. Early in the Fall I found myself making the hike into Bear Canyon (which does live up to its name BTW) a few times as there are a handful of really good moderates. Also, there was a low start to one of these moderates that caught my eye. “Bear Necessities” was born. Two very tricky heelhooks and a dicey top out. Very reminiscent of a Font boulder.

After the “action” in Bear Canyon died-down due to massive amounts of snow I got my snow boots out and made the trudge into the lonely, forgotten, and somewhat ominous Skunk Canyon. What I found was exactly what I wanted to find: a tall, clean arete with holds and a good landing that had been left undone just around the corner from “The Corpse.” I set to work. I spent a day cleaning moss and lichen off of the climb and working the bottom moves, a day to shovel snow from the top, a day to clear holds of ice and try the crux move and top section, a day to fuck up after the crux and figure out the middle (and bleed profusely), and a day to come back and crush it in good style. I called the devilishly sharp climb “Flesh and Blood” due in part to my blood loss on two separate days of attempts.  I was very pleased with this first ascent for a number of reasons.  It was something I had found on my own and it was beautiful. Also, this was the first time I had really gotten on a rope to clean a boulder and work moves and that was rewarding in itself. Most of my time in Skunk was spent by myself and it was always very quiet and meditative. My motivation never wavered though and these solitary missions are times I’ll always remember.

After completing my primary objective in Skunk Canyon I was left with a decision: do I keep making the grueling 45 minute hike up there to try the next project? Or do I go searching for new boulders? Well, the answer was both. The problem was, after finding more potential boulders close to the Third Flatiron, I now had one too many projects on my mind and they were all located within the notorious Raptor Closure areas of the Flatirons. The clock was ticking. I had less than two weeks. Time management is not my strong suite. On one of the boulders, a tall, crimpy face, I figured out all the moves except one and was very psyched on doing the finishing sequence from the ground. That one move got the best of me though and I never came very close to doing the long deadpoint move. The other project I was losing sleep over was even more of a heartbreaker. This slightly off-vertical slab was intriguing because it was so unlike everything else around. It had a dynamic lurch to catch a gaston pinch in a mini-feature that I would then palm into to bring my feet up and flip to an undercling. After that I would stab to a pod/pinch, walk my feet through and lock off to a terrible little crimp, weight the left foot, grab a pebble crimp, bring left foot up again and cross big to a good edge rail and top out. I had my sequence down and was reaching to the pebble crimp from the start and POP, my foot blew up and down I crashed to the pads. Despite the possibility of using another foot my motivation (and confidence) was shot. I threw in the towel for the season on another project. Another one of life’s deadlines had come and gone and I was a day late and a dollar short. Again. Oh well, there’s always next Fall…

“Bear Necessities” Photo By Cameron Maier

Sunset over the Flatirons.

  • Posted on January 05, 2012

2012

My first send of 2012 happened today, the 4th of January. Alone, I scraped my way up a proud arete in a forgotten canyon near Boulder for its first ascent. Upon topping-out I just stood there, content with myself, and watched the blood begin to seep from my split tip. I sat and listened to the crows cawing to each other, the squirrels scratching across the pines, and my own breath. I soon took off my climbing shoes and walked barefoot through the snow back to the base of the boulder. I packed my things up and, after taking a quick look at my next project, started off down the hill back towards civilization, back to work.

The morning I’m describing, the morning I had, is an archetype for my climbing and my place in the climbing world. Was this an earth-shattering ascent of some standard-pushing testpiece? Not at all. Was this a challenging and beautiful chunk of rock for me test myself on? Absolutely. Did I get some enjoyment and satisfaction out of the entire process of finding, cleaning, and climbing this piece of rock? Definitely. The reason why is what leaves me searching for the right words and, ultimately, giving up in the process. But mornings like this morning make it a little more clear. At the heart of the matter is discovery, the search for the “new”. The “new” is intriguing because it must be learned. This learning stimulates an inquisitive mind and leaves it hungry for some kind of answer. It’s during these moments of learning and beta finding that I have felt some of the most intense focus; It’s probably what I enjoy the most from rock climbing.

In addition to the allure of the “new”  first ascents provide an opportunity to do something utterly unique and original, and in a climbing community such as Boulder originality is hard to come by. Too many climbers are content to just wile away their time inside where it’s comfortable, only leaving to travel to the approved areas and climb on the most appealing of numbers. To me originality is worth the discomfort and this is why I exist on the what seems to be the fringe. I guess it’s why I wake up early to hike a long ways in the cold just to end up bleeding before going to work.