Weez
Well, the rumors are true. I believe that after 15 visits to Leavenworth you become an official card carrying member of the Bavarian culture. I’m already half German and half English so I guess I could make room for a little sausage, beer, and interesting architecture. It’s not really my fault however. I guess you could blame a lot of people. For instance, Kelly Sheridan and his little guide book; or Dom and Laura for instigating such a nasty habit as bouldering. I mean what sane sport climber wants to give up a life on the rope for a terribly unfulfilling, self deprecating, sadistic, and otherwise quick fixing sport such as bouldering? Scrambling around nature with a giant piece of foam strapped to your back only to do like, three moves before standing on top of the boulder you just climbed like a cave man claiming his fresh kill. And there we were; driving down the main street of Leavenworth cautiously dodging tourists left and right and finally turning down Icicle Creek Road in a frantic search for a break from society and the inviting silence and simplicity of ‘tent’ camping.(is there any other kind?!!!). It was Thursday, 78 degrees Fahrenheit, and around 4:00 when we were able to sit back and appreciate the fact that we had gotten our old camp spot, lot number 19 at the Eight Mile camp ground. A wave of nostalgia rushed over me as I remembered being at this very site almost a year ago with the exact same people, my friends Dom and Laura, or Laura and Dom, however you want to order the pair. It wasn’t long before we pulled into the Forestland parking lot and tromped through Summer’s overgrowth to find ourselves face to face with our old friends The Real Thing, One Summer and The Shield. Not really the names of the boulders but rather the names of some of my favorite problems here in this area. I ran around like one of the many chipmunks in heat at this time of year, crimping on holds, flexing my toes on textured granite, and pulling myself up and over a couple of problems I hadn’t quite mastered until today. One problem in particular that I was incredibly psyched to get is a problem affectionately referred to as Backdoor Ass Attack. Aaaahhhhh, the joys of naming a boulder problem. A cool looking boulder, split by a big jug lip at 6 feet. A shallow slopey side pull leads you to another slopey/crimpy lip which forces you to a small crimp above and a hard press to gain victory against gravity and the good fortune to declare to others that you have mastered the Backdoor Ass Attack. Don’t be afraid to shout it from the roof tops! I watched as Dom latched the crimpy dyno on the Shield only to hang by a three fingered latch of death before resolving the matter through a more passive aggressive means of solving things, dropping to the pad and saying you’ll do it later. I like! Laura launched into battle with her arch nemesis The Real Thing, a pretty daunting task to both life and limb, or at least toes and fingers. Techy foot placements and sideways crimps are the only hints of passage up this problem, and Laura decided to give it the ever coveted V.15 grade and wait until she was stronger to finish it off. Now I’m not one for grade inflation but since I have done this problem the new grade will definitely help my scorecard. Feeling a bit crunched, we headed to upper Forestland where we were greeted by more granite and no trace of other boulderers. Laura did battle once again with another problem called Lovage, a valiant effort that paid off in the end. As she slapped and compressed here way up the route Dom and I shouted encouragement and was glad that she held it together for the top out and final jug slap, which she almost missed! Nice one Laura. Dom and I monkeyed around, flexing our muscles and throwing our poo(not literally) and as the sun set we gathered wood for a fire and let the flames massage our bitter souls.
I was greeted in the morning by the warmth of the day to come. In other words it was going to be a hot one. My counterparts were sluggish as well and we rose to the task of climbing somewhat decisively. We found ourselves at a boulder called The Machine Gun, although the resemblance I did not see, however the problems were great and the mood was set. Polishing off the boulder in an hour we set out to find shadier spots and wound up at a The Sword boulders, lazy giants themselves that provided relief from the heat of the day. We did not do much at this spot and soon were back at the campsite feasting on sandwiches, literature, and the brain twisting board game of Scrabble. My friends were gracious enough to wipe the floor with my innocence by utilizing the double and triple word scores and thwarting my every attempts at higher learning. As the afternoon aged appropriately into the late afternoon we headed out onto a journey that would yield no impressive sends, but a respect for not getting lost, and reading poorly translated guidebook maps. The Labyrinth boulders were just that, a confusing maze of salt and pepper granite boulders with terrifying landings and even more terrifying grades. The approach was not long, yet demanded the buns of steel work out ethic and left us feeling quite ashamed of our present athletic builds. No matter, we picked up the pieces and finished the day at one of the best boulders in the world, hahahaha! The Hueco Crimper boulder finds itself perched on the banks of the Winatchee river a mere ten yards off route 2. The landings are sandy and rocky, but mellow nonetheless. I highly recommend the V.2 on this boulder, it is amazing. As well as the V.6, the V.4 and, for those willing the V.9 low start to the V.6. I won’t bother with names, if you feel so inclined as to purchase the guidebook just look for the Hueco Crimper boulder. I set to work on the V.9 and made good progress as well as smashing my back on an unguarded rock, lucky it wasn’t my head piece yo! Dom tackled the V.6 and Laura commanded the V.2 with great skill. We were happy to end the day on this boulder and yet again found great comfofrt in collecting wood for the fire that night, especially Dom who was able to find a nice sized log that I believe burned for quite some time.
It was Saturday, the camp ground found itself filled to capacity with R.V.’s, dog’s, babies, children, teenagers, parents, climbers, hikers, rafters, laughter, and many an excited chipmunk. We rose to the cold of the morning and Laura put together a mean breakfast burrito. I had my lovely little eyes set on a problem known as the Cattle Guard Arete, tucked far away in the land of Mt. Home Road. We made the journey up and over the town of Leavenworth kicking up much dust in the process and passing many an impressive boulder on unfortunately privately owned land. We broke through the trees and burst onto the scene with an attitude that reeked of climbing bliss. The sun baked the hill side of Mt. Home Road littered with boulders that we coveted as small pinnacles of amusement, debauchery, and a brass sense of male chauvinism. This area is unique to Leavenworth, one of my favorite areas yet not particularly home to the best or the most boulder problems. The few areas that have been ‘discovered’ are separated by short down hill romps and the boulders are pretty sharp, salt and pepper granite, and don’t seem to sport many features. I came here for one reason only, to send a problem that I had gotten spanked on almost a year ago. The Cattle Guard Arete, a beautiful problem, only two or three hard moves but probably the best problem in this area. Dom, Laura and I climbed a few V.1’s before I dove head first into what could only be described as my ever changing destiny. I flexed and slapped my way up the short arête before shouting in victory as I stood on top of the boulder. I was happy but the moment was fleeting and I soon found myself in a dark room, deserted and alone, spinning out of control through an endless pit of despair and emptiness. Just kidding. I was psyched and after the send we worked a sweet arête traverse thing with small feet and miserable slopers before we became too defeated to go on and had to leave. We drove back to town stopping for the nights libations at the ever encroaching Safeway, and finding out that the public Library is not so public on the weekends, it was closed. After passing the time at camp over another game of Scrabble (that’s right, weez is not a word) and some more sandwiches we drove head first into some more boulder scaling. Not much of a story unfolded at the Barney’s Rubble boulders and it wasn’t long before we found ourselves back at the Hueco Crimper boulder. I just couldn’t let this beautiful problem get away from me and I was hot on it’s trail. I worked the last move several times and never could stick it before Dom unlocked my frustration with a crafty toe jam and a hold that I had not been using. Dom dispatched the stand start before I finally took center stage. Lights…camera…ACTION! I sent it with the sound of the Winatchee reverberating off the water softened granite boulder and the camera lens steadily focused on my feeble attempts of obtaining digital immortality. I roared like a bear with a bad hernia to celebrate my accomplishment and was pleased enough to celebrate over a pint of Leavenworth IPA. That night we burned a lot of logs and drank too much cheap beer and were rewarded for our efforts by frequent pee breaks interrupting our silent slumber.
It was our last day and we packed up camp much to my dismay masked by silent grumblings of discomfort and not wanting to leave. Our mutual friend Jimmy accompanied by his mother and sister were to meet us at Mad Meadows that morning so we headed on out to one of our last stops of the trip. We walked across the meadow and up into the jumble of boulders that held classic hard problems with names like the Peephole, The Ram, and the Sail. We all warmed up on the Hueco problem, climbing in, on, and around the giant holes eroded into the granite face by the angry winds of the past. We were met shortly by our friends Jimmy, Lisa and their mother Rita. Jimmy flexed his flash bone on a one move power problem called the Jib, a heinous crimpy rail to a jug. It had been his goal to flash a V.8 this year and he did, congratulations. We were all done at this area of the Mad Meadows and headed onwards and upwards to a roof problem called Hanta Man. I managed to do the first two big moves but could not complete this chapter in the book of Micah’s bouldering adventures so I placed a comma next to it and plan upon returning in the future. Dom made an impressive hand jamming display of physical prowess by sending an upside down V.5 hand crack that climbed straight out of the roof. We then headed even farther back to the last area of the Mad Mead’ to one of the coolest looking boulders/features that has come into existence in this state of Washington. The Pimpsqueak boulder is home to a classic V.9, Pimpsqueak and another roof problem called Crimpsqueak. The latter being a longstanding project of mine. Well, today was the day. I grappled with the power of the problem and coped quite well with the top out and stood victoriously unscathed at the end. Done and done! Dom, Laura, and I were all feeling worn down after four days of bouldering but we bravely went to another area, or boulder I should say. A giant boulder stood just off the road and held two problems, IS, which I had sent months ago, and WAS which is what I came to try. Amazingly I felt strong and tamed the beast in only a few tries. I found that matching on the arête and bumping to the lip made the problem much easier than it had previously felt and I was really psyched to have another V.8 under the belt before the end of the trip. We all caravanned out to Swiftwater to wrap it up and sent one last problem, The Footless Traverse.
Now that I’m at home and have had a little time to heal and reflect, all I can think about is returning. There are so many boulders, and so many problems that I want to do and climb on and even though I have marked off a lot of problems on my list, the more I mark off the more I start to add. Most of the time the actual climbing isn’t what I enjoy the most about a trip, but rather the nights spent in conversation around a blazing camp fire, or the silence and reflection that escaping the constant appointments a job, or school can bring. I guess a balance between the two extremes is needed to appreciate, love and hate all that life has to offer. Well, that’s it. Turn your computer off and go do something; outside preferably.
I was greeted in the morning by the warmth of the day to come. In other words it was going to be a hot one. My counterparts were sluggish as well and we rose to the task of climbing somewhat decisively. We found ourselves at a boulder called The Machine Gun, although the resemblance I did not see, however the problems were great and the mood was set. Polishing off the boulder in an hour we set out to find shadier spots and wound up at a The Sword boulders, lazy giants themselves that provided relief from the heat of the day. We did not do much at this spot and soon were back at the campsite feasting on sandwiches, literature, and the brain twisting board game of Scrabble. My friends were gracious enough to wipe the floor with my innocence by utilizing the double and triple word scores and thwarting my every attempts at higher learning. As the afternoon aged appropriately into the late afternoon we headed out onto a journey that would yield no impressive sends, but a respect for not getting lost, and reading poorly translated guidebook maps. The Labyrinth boulders were just that, a confusing maze of salt and pepper granite boulders with terrifying landings and even more terrifying grades. The approach was not long, yet demanded the buns of steel work out ethic and left us feeling quite ashamed of our present athletic builds. No matter, we picked up the pieces and finished the day at one of the best boulders in the world, hahahaha! The Hueco Crimper boulder finds itself perched on the banks of the Winatchee river a mere ten yards off route 2. The landings are sandy and rocky, but mellow nonetheless. I highly recommend the V.2 on this boulder, it is amazing. As well as the V.6, the V.4 and, for those willing the V.9 low start to the V.6. I won’t bother with names, if you feel so inclined as to purchase the guidebook just look for the Hueco Crimper boulder. I set to work on the V.9 and made good progress as well as smashing my back on an unguarded rock, lucky it wasn’t my head piece yo! Dom tackled the V.6 and Laura commanded the V.2 with great skill. We were happy to end the day on this boulder and yet again found great comfofrt in collecting wood for the fire that night, especially Dom who was able to find a nice sized log that I believe burned for quite some time.
It was Saturday, the camp ground found itself filled to capacity with R.V.’s, dog’s, babies, children, teenagers, parents, climbers, hikers, rafters, laughter, and many an excited chipmunk. We rose to the cold of the morning and Laura put together a mean breakfast burrito. I had my lovely little eyes set on a problem known as the Cattle Guard Arete, tucked far away in the land of Mt. Home Road. We made the journey up and over the town of Leavenworth kicking up much dust in the process and passing many an impressive boulder on unfortunately privately owned land. We broke through the trees and burst onto the scene with an attitude that reeked of climbing bliss. The sun baked the hill side of Mt. Home Road littered with boulders that we coveted as small pinnacles of amusement, debauchery, and a brass sense of male chauvinism. This area is unique to Leavenworth, one of my favorite areas yet not particularly home to the best or the most boulder problems. The few areas that have been ‘discovered’ are separated by short down hill romps and the boulders are pretty sharp, salt and pepper granite, and don’t seem to sport many features. I came here for one reason only, to send a problem that I had gotten spanked on almost a year ago. The Cattle Guard Arete, a beautiful problem, only two or three hard moves but probably the best problem in this area. Dom, Laura and I climbed a few V.1’s before I dove head first into what could only be described as my ever changing destiny. I flexed and slapped my way up the short arête before shouting in victory as I stood on top of the boulder. I was happy but the moment was fleeting and I soon found myself in a dark room, deserted and alone, spinning out of control through an endless pit of despair and emptiness. Just kidding. I was psyched and after the send we worked a sweet arête traverse thing with small feet and miserable slopers before we became too defeated to go on and had to leave. We drove back to town stopping for the nights libations at the ever encroaching Safeway, and finding out that the public Library is not so public on the weekends, it was closed. After passing the time at camp over another game of Scrabble (that’s right, weez is not a word) and some more sandwiches we drove head first into some more boulder scaling. Not much of a story unfolded at the Barney’s Rubble boulders and it wasn’t long before we found ourselves back at the Hueco Crimper boulder. I just couldn’t let this beautiful problem get away from me and I was hot on it’s trail. I worked the last move several times and never could stick it before Dom unlocked my frustration with a crafty toe jam and a hold that I had not been using. Dom dispatched the stand start before I finally took center stage. Lights…camera…ACTION! I sent it with the sound of the Winatchee reverberating off the water softened granite boulder and the camera lens steadily focused on my feeble attempts of obtaining digital immortality. I roared like a bear with a bad hernia to celebrate my accomplishment and was pleased enough to celebrate over a pint of Leavenworth IPA. That night we burned a lot of logs and drank too much cheap beer and were rewarded for our efforts by frequent pee breaks interrupting our silent slumber.
It was our last day and we packed up camp much to my dismay masked by silent grumblings of discomfort and not wanting to leave. Our mutual friend Jimmy accompanied by his mother and sister were to meet us at Mad Meadows that morning so we headed on out to one of our last stops of the trip. We walked across the meadow and up into the jumble of boulders that held classic hard problems with names like the Peephole, The Ram, and the Sail. We all warmed up on the Hueco problem, climbing in, on, and around the giant holes eroded into the granite face by the angry winds of the past. We were met shortly by our friends Jimmy, Lisa and their mother Rita. Jimmy flexed his flash bone on a one move power problem called the Jib, a heinous crimpy rail to a jug. It had been his goal to flash a V.8 this year and he did, congratulations. We were all done at this area of the Mad Meadows and headed onwards and upwards to a roof problem called Hanta Man. I managed to do the first two big moves but could not complete this chapter in the book of Micah’s bouldering adventures so I placed a comma next to it and plan upon returning in the future. Dom made an impressive hand jamming display of physical prowess by sending an upside down V.5 hand crack that climbed straight out of the roof. We then headed even farther back to the last area of the Mad Mead’ to one of the coolest looking boulders/features that has come into existence in this state of Washington. The Pimpsqueak boulder is home to a classic V.9, Pimpsqueak and another roof problem called Crimpsqueak. The latter being a longstanding project of mine. Well, today was the day. I grappled with the power of the problem and coped quite well with the top out and stood victoriously unscathed at the end. Done and done! Dom, Laura, and I were all feeling worn down after four days of bouldering but we bravely went to another area, or boulder I should say. A giant boulder stood just off the road and held two problems, IS, which I had sent months ago, and WAS which is what I came to try. Amazingly I felt strong and tamed the beast in only a few tries. I found that matching on the arête and bumping to the lip made the problem much easier than it had previously felt and I was really psyched to have another V.8 under the belt before the end of the trip. We all caravanned out to Swiftwater to wrap it up and sent one last problem, The Footless Traverse.
Now that I’m at home and have had a little time to heal and reflect, all I can think about is returning. There are so many boulders, and so many problems that I want to do and climb on and even though I have marked off a lot of problems on my list, the more I mark off the more I start to add. Most of the time the actual climbing isn’t what I enjoy the most about a trip, but rather the nights spent in conversation around a blazing camp fire, or the silence and reflection that escaping the constant appointments a job, or school can bring. I guess a balance between the two extremes is needed to appreciate, love and hate all that life has to offer. Well, that’s it. Turn your computer off and go do something; outside preferably.
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