It is so damn hot out here!
Well, as far as trip reports are concerned, Vantage seems to have some weird gravitational pull on me lately, so here is yet another trip report from the latest journey to the east. I can’t seem to get enough of that shrub steppe (or is it steppe shrub?). Besides the free camping, and the endless amount of sport climbing there, Vantage is also quite a nice place this time of the year. Of course, at the end of the trip when I’m covered in dust, chalk, dried sweat, burnt skin, and fecal matter I’m more than happy to curse the existence of this oppressively dry, hot, and otherwise unfriendly environment. However, as I reminisce on the still clear images of the past weekend the negative side effects of a dirty lifestyle pass me by like angry hicks on the highway in raised pickup trucks. Instead I like to think about the endless days spent climbing everything in sight, cheering on friends, making fun of friends, community meals, getting pumped stupid, the feeling of rock underneath my fingertips, the sound a quick draw makes when you clip it, the relief the aforementioned noise brings to your otherwise panicked mind, the feeling of the energy being drained from you by the intensity of the sun, the same energy returning as you pull onto a route and are faced with the athletic problem solving of the immediate situation presented to you by a jumble of holds, the movement, the stillness, breathing.
The latest trip inspired all of the above. Steph and I headed out to Vantage one more time before she leaves for Alaska for the entirety of the summer. We were met in full force by the entire (almost) climbing community of Olympia huddled around a fire at half past midnight. Late to bed and early to rise was the ritual despite self inflicted wounds, liberal amounts of libations, and a rag tag band that had the entire amphitheatre rocking.
The morning was quite pleasant. Sunny but cool and calm. We hiked to the Riverview crag and spent the entire day there, ticking one route after the other. We had 12-13 people in total so we pretty much took over this small stretch of Cliffside basalt. I was psyched out of mind to be climbing again after a week of work and no climbing. I started out with some easy tens and then moved on to some more challenging routes. I tried to go for the onsight of this .11a but I’m still pretty scared of taking lead falls. I got into the crux but refused to move my feet up and lurch towards the victory jug. Took a hang, figured out some beta that would work for me, rehearsed a bit. Then got back on it after a break and fired it off. I repeated this same routine for another .11a that was slightly more challenging than the first. The crux was pretty technical and involved some smearing, which I had to do with my knee, but I was able to fire this one off second go as well (and also due in large part to a strategic long draw placement, which took a bit of the difficulty away). All in all I was climbing a ton and to be surrounded on all sides by my friends was just like hanging out at the gym. Zingers were tossed around like midgets in a seedy bar scene, and the constant ribbing was also intermingled with sincere bouts of encouragement. After a short lunch break in the baking sun I flailed on a couple routes before finding a perfect fit. In the middle of the crag there stood a prominent line that looked of 4 star quality. After watching Steve go for the onsight andn then blow it at the chains (doh!), I sat back and watched as Boone and Troy pitched off of the same move at the very top (where it got steeper and slightly more desperate). I thought I should probably try to avenge my fallen comrades so I buckled my seat belt and prepared for a bumpy ride. The first boulder problem right off the ground was sick! You started by bear hugging two side pulls. With a high foot you make a catch yourself move on a sweet bird bath jug. A couple of cranks from here leads to small holds then a perch on a good foot and the overhang. Slopey but good holds funneled me right into a big move for a shark tooth. Unfortunately I had to do a one arm pull up here in order to finish the route and that was just not happening. I fell! Ahhhhh! I clipped chains and got lowered and thought to myself, “Self, we should try that again.” I got back on it and got spanked again at the same spot! Sheesh, this time I used my ‘projecting’ skills to suss out better beta. My third attempt was still desperate but I managed to match the shark tooth and pull my way to screaming victory! After all that fuss, Laura stepped up and flashed it calmly only to put all of the men in their rightful place.
We climbed from 9 in the morning to 5 in the evening. Ha! A real 9-5 job if I do say so myself. And after slouching in camp chairs we sluggishly moved into action on the dinner front. Chilled champagne was passed around and eventually a birthday cake was produced in honor of our friend Steve’s 26th birthday. As more and more food was starting to make the rounds instruments appeared and the underground Oly band materialized with hints of apprehension that soon turned into alcohol fueled fits of melodious melancholy sprinkled with the harmony of the fireside peanut gallery. The Oly underground band (composed of Steve, Troy, Boone, Laura, and whoever the hell else can play a guitar/instrument of any kind) is also informally known as ‘Sexual Healing’ otherwise known as the ‘The Great Bird of Prey’. They were awesome and provided an element to the camp fire that is unmatched by any other form of entertainment, that I know of, thus far. Bravo!
The latest trip inspired all of the above. Steph and I headed out to Vantage one more time before she leaves for Alaska for the entirety of the summer. We were met in full force by the entire (almost) climbing community of Olympia huddled around a fire at half past midnight. Late to bed and early to rise was the ritual despite self inflicted wounds, liberal amounts of libations, and a rag tag band that had the entire amphitheatre rocking.
The morning was quite pleasant. Sunny but cool and calm. We hiked to the Riverview crag and spent the entire day there, ticking one route after the other. We had 12-13 people in total so we pretty much took over this small stretch of Cliffside basalt. I was psyched out of mind to be climbing again after a week of work and no climbing. I started out with some easy tens and then moved on to some more challenging routes. I tried to go for the onsight of this .11a but I’m still pretty scared of taking lead falls. I got into the crux but refused to move my feet up and lurch towards the victory jug. Took a hang, figured out some beta that would work for me, rehearsed a bit. Then got back on it after a break and fired it off. I repeated this same routine for another .11a that was slightly more challenging than the first. The crux was pretty technical and involved some smearing, which I had to do with my knee, but I was able to fire this one off second go as well (and also due in large part to a strategic long draw placement, which took a bit of the difficulty away). All in all I was climbing a ton and to be surrounded on all sides by my friends was just like hanging out at the gym. Zingers were tossed around like midgets in a seedy bar scene, and the constant ribbing was also intermingled with sincere bouts of encouragement. After a short lunch break in the baking sun I flailed on a couple routes before finding a perfect fit. In the middle of the crag there stood a prominent line that looked of 4 star quality. After watching Steve go for the onsight andn then blow it at the chains (doh!), I sat back and watched as Boone and Troy pitched off of the same move at the very top (where it got steeper and slightly more desperate). I thought I should probably try to avenge my fallen comrades so I buckled my seat belt and prepared for a bumpy ride. The first boulder problem right off the ground was sick! You started by bear hugging two side pulls. With a high foot you make a catch yourself move on a sweet bird bath jug. A couple of cranks from here leads to small holds then a perch on a good foot and the overhang. Slopey but good holds funneled me right into a big move for a shark tooth. Unfortunately I had to do a one arm pull up here in order to finish the route and that was just not happening. I fell! Ahhhhh! I clipped chains and got lowered and thought to myself, “Self, we should try that again.” I got back on it and got spanked again at the same spot! Sheesh, this time I used my ‘projecting’ skills to suss out better beta. My third attempt was still desperate but I managed to match the shark tooth and pull my way to screaming victory! After all that fuss, Laura stepped up and flashed it calmly only to put all of the men in their rightful place.
We climbed from 9 in the morning to 5 in the evening. Ha! A real 9-5 job if I do say so myself. And after slouching in camp chairs we sluggishly moved into action on the dinner front. Chilled champagne was passed around and eventually a birthday cake was produced in honor of our friend Steve’s 26th birthday. As more and more food was starting to make the rounds instruments appeared and the underground Oly band materialized with hints of apprehension that soon turned into alcohol fueled fits of melodious melancholy sprinkled with the harmony of the fireside peanut gallery. The Oly underground band (composed of Steve, Troy, Boone, Laura, and whoever the hell else can play a guitar/instrument of any kind) is also informally known as ‘Sexual Healing’ otherwise known as the ‘The Great Bird of Prey’. They were awesome and provided an element to the camp fire that is unmatched by any other form of entertainment, that I know of, thus far. Bravo!
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