Fantastic Frustrations

July 20, 2016

Fantastic Frustrations

Tara reaching on her warm up of the super classy Clear-Cut.

It was nearing 9:30 in the morning as we slowly rounded another bend. My face hurt from wearing the frustration and stress of the last 16 hours. I wasn’t sure if this beat being at work (which is where I was SUPPosed to be) or if this was somehow more of a punishment. The crunch of a gravel road freshly wet from an overnight rain was amplified by the fear previously instilled in me from the events that had just taken place yesterday evening. There it was. All of a sudden I could feel the anxiety and fear melt away and an ending to this story could finally ink the pages of my brain.

When we met a paved road again I was ecstatic and couldn’t help but think about the overreactions, frustrations, anger, resentment, and unwanted feelings of insecurity and ego-based hang ups I had to experience in order to finally get to this point. I learned a valuable lesson: always carry two spares in your car.

Tara 'the Crane' Kerhzner.

The last few weeks I’ve felt a little like what a meth addict must feel like. The constant pull to enjoy something fleeting yet tedious; eye opening yet horrendously overpowering; manic yet calm. It’s always hard to pin point that exact time when a project turns from something you look forward to doing and know you can do, into something truly daunting and insurmountable. The mind can play tricks on you, and after a while you can start to feel like a dwarf in the depths of Mirkwood: 'Is there no end to this accursed forest?' said Thorin. 'Somebody must climb a tree and have a look round. The only way is to choose the tallest tree that overhangs the path.' But even the tallest tree can prove difficult to climb if you don’t have the will to find a way up and out of the stagnation of your idle third eye.

Feel the moss, LIVE the moss!

It has been extremely refreshing then to meet a couple of fresh faces and see what new motivation and unbridled confidence looks like (as a reminder). Meeting the Kerhzner’s and managing to pervade their personal climbing space for the last few weeks has been truly a gift in the middle of what has turned out to be a somewhat stagnant and unsuccessful projecting period for me. Greg and Tara go together like Gin and Tonic (which is why I believe they got married, so their bath towels can have G&T monogrammed on them). Both light hearted world-traveled disciples of the millennial generation, they ooze an Alobar&Kudra-esque persona while managing to sample every classic at every crag they magically appear at. In fact, the comparison of the two to the Tom Robbin’s characters is so startlingly apt that I’m prone to believe that I’ve been hanging out with a thousand year old couple originating from the loins of Bohemia and the trunk space of India. If climbing is the new youthful approach to shirking death then these two will live forever. But impressive feats of strength aside they have more to offer than sick sends of high numbers, like witty insights on climbing culture, Russian paradigms to help you transcend weakness, Juju, friendliness, IT support, a killer truck bed, and most of all you feel like your back in 7^th grade again and that they just ‘get’ you.

Is that a Rooftop Brewing tank top????

I’ve had a consistently comical time while getting to know them and all the dance marathons, logging road break-downs, manky hiking Tyrolean traverses, and deep-fried Oreos aside, hopefully they have had a good taste(deep-fried) of what the PNW has to unwillingly offer. It is on that note that I wish them nothing but the best on their next chapter of wayward globetrotting. Adieu mon ami’s! I hope the gelato is plentiful, the rocks are soft, and the couches have removable seat cushions.