Naked Therapy
Excuse the lateness and the somewhat ambiguous and obscure nature of this blog post. I usually stay on top of my ‘blogging’, especially when I get back from a trip that I really enjoyed. However, this last trip was almost too enjoyable! I think I got more of a physical work out sitting around the fire laughing than I did sending some of the problems I got on. But that’s just it right? “The best climber in the world is the one who’s having the most fun.” (One of the many memorable quotes from this past three day epic out to Leavenworth) I guess what made it so epic wasn’t exactly the ‘killer’ blocs we climbed, or the ‘sick hard’ projects we sent, but more about the absolute and ultimately shocking, bewildering, and totally euphorically blissful encounters that occurred on a nightly (and daily) basis while in the presence of so many amazing friends, new and old.
Now that I sit here and try to re-hash what exactly happened-the witty comebacks, the hilarious and yet strangely odd campfire encounters, the 48 hour drinking sessions, the golden delicious spotting sesh’s, the mind altering game of therapy, the brain swelling mornings, the Mt. Home warm-up, and finally the break throughs-I have come to realize that it will be impossible for me to actually re-tell some of the goings on of the past weekend. The unfathomable amount of inside jokes that were generated from this past trip will become a thing of legend only to filter on down through an undedicated following who will no doubt water down these rich and concentrated experiences to nothing more than hazy memories and awkward one-liners.
There is no point to this post. I have no pictures or video therefore I can only use words to describe my accomplishments which may mean nothing to you reading this. What’s another V.9 send to the universe of climbers anyway? A number couldn’t possibly come close to describing the experience I had topping out Pimpsqueak. I haven’t had that much fun climbing what used to be seen in my eyes as an impossible feat in an incredibly long time. Every movement was…fun. For lack of a better word, adjective, explicative! I rate this boulder problem right up there with WAS. I wouldn’t mind doing it again and again and again…etc. Just an absolutely great experience in my climbing. That coupled with the fact that as I arrived to Mad Meadows late in the morning on Sunday. Hazy, a little dizzy, somewhat cold and unmotivated. I threw my pads down into the warm up room (a.k.a. the Hueco Route), and I looked up at the exact moment that some dude was pulling onto the Sail. But wait, he made the first couple of moves and then made a huge span left. He was attempting the Ram. No wait, he was SENDING the Ram! Shit! I couldn’t believe it, and apparently neither could he as he yelled with enthusiasm, redemption, and bliss. “Three years of my fucking life…and FINALLY!” the triumphant boulderer exclaimed. And that pretty much is what it’s about right? Redemption? The process of progression? Surmounting the once insurmountable?! For me there is certainly nothing I enjoy more about climbing than that utterly delicious moment of crushing a problem or route that once felt un-crushable.
Now that I sit here and try to re-hash what exactly happened-the witty comebacks, the hilarious and yet strangely odd campfire encounters, the 48 hour drinking sessions, the golden delicious spotting sesh’s, the mind altering game of therapy, the brain swelling mornings, the Mt. Home warm-up, and finally the break throughs-I have come to realize that it will be impossible for me to actually re-tell some of the goings on of the past weekend. The unfathomable amount of inside jokes that were generated from this past trip will become a thing of legend only to filter on down through an undedicated following who will no doubt water down these rich and concentrated experiences to nothing more than hazy memories and awkward one-liners.
There is no point to this post. I have no pictures or video therefore I can only use words to describe my accomplishments which may mean nothing to you reading this. What’s another V.9 send to the universe of climbers anyway? A number couldn’t possibly come close to describing the experience I had topping out Pimpsqueak. I haven’t had that much fun climbing what used to be seen in my eyes as an impossible feat in an incredibly long time. Every movement was…fun. For lack of a better word, adjective, explicative! I rate this boulder problem right up there with WAS. I wouldn’t mind doing it again and again and again…etc. Just an absolutely great experience in my climbing. That coupled with the fact that as I arrived to Mad Meadows late in the morning on Sunday. Hazy, a little dizzy, somewhat cold and unmotivated. I threw my pads down into the warm up room (a.k.a. the Hueco Route), and I looked up at the exact moment that some dude was pulling onto the Sail. But wait, he made the first couple of moves and then made a huge span left. He was attempting the Ram. No wait, he was SENDING the Ram! Shit! I couldn’t believe it, and apparently neither could he as he yelled with enthusiasm, redemption, and bliss. “Three years of my fucking life…and FINALLY!” the triumphant boulderer exclaimed. And that pretty much is what it’s about right? Redemption? The process of progression? Surmounting the once insurmountable?! For me there is certainly nothing I enjoy more about climbing than that utterly delicious moment of crushing a problem or route that once felt un-crushable.
Comments
@Nick: WE MISS YOU!!!!!