It's mid-June. I haven't climbed in a long time. Shouldn't have sold all the gear I did.
I miss the adventure climbs my buddies and I did last year in the summer. All the mungy stuff in Icehouse Canyon, linking technical pitches together with a bunch of class 3-4, and some fifth class gravel or deathblock dance routines. I'm sure any purist would go up one of the routes like the notorious BIG MEAT PIZZA, and think "this sucks!", without having the positive state of mind to appreciate it for what it truly is, a technical adventure with unrivaled views down into Icehouse at all of those poor souls on the trail who seem to know nothing of this crumbling, steep world to the south.
"BRIAN, WHATEVER YOU'RE DOING, GET THE F*CK OUT OF THE WAY BECAUSE ABOUT 800 TONS OF SH*T IS ABOUT TO COME FLYING DOWN RIGHT AT YOU!"
I heard some yells acknowledging my 'tips' regarding the impending gravity-assisted boulderfest that starts my clearing of a 'belay stance'. I can see Brian in my mind... FURIOUSLY moving gear around while locking me off on a big Oak tree lost in time on the route. I'm holding onto a Fir tree, and holding back a ton of blocks that are about to fly down a crummy slope, and down a big chimney right at Brian's stance.
Brian acknowledges, and FFFFFWWWWWWWWWWWOOOOMP!!!!!! Down goes the rockslide. It sounded like a bunch of the boulders reached the bottom of Icehouse Canyon, maybe a few hollars down there. Much cursing was to be heard from both sides. Brian them moves up onto the sweet cracked wall where I zigzagged some hex placements, along with one nut that fell out of a crack because some blocks hanging over the void of Sheep Canyon moved just a bit.
I miss the amazing views you can get while up on those routes! Once you top out on 'Kimchi Ridge' (the prominent ridge west of Sheep Canyon), you sit upon a beautiful granite block, a seat with the best view in the canyon. Watching Brian climb up below, wearing the sole helmet of the day, as I throw pebbles at him and curse.
The priceless feeling of brotherhood as the two of us stand atop this jumbled route we survived is really something. Just one of the many feelings one feels while really truly climbing that reminds ya why climbing is so damn important for the soul, for friends, and for life. It doesn't really matter much what the grade is, how clean the line is, if you made any petty mistakes or forgot something at home. What matters is the experience, the adventure, the love of it all.
I miss winter. I miss the cool feeling of being in shape (didn't happen 2008-2009! Hahaha!), and plugging away with two ice tools up steep snow and ice, trying to track a pick into crappy rock, only to have it blow bigtime and scare the crap outta you. San Gabriel Mixed Climbing, as I call it to myself, is something truly different. Traditional mixed is mental enough when you're climbing something new, but our funky ice, random snow conditions, and typically GONE rock really changes the dynamics.
I miss the feeling I had when I finally completed Lightning Couloir after 3 or 4 tries the day before new years. I fell in love with that route, and I still love it, even though it mangled the muscles in my right arm.
This route has it all... it's the big mountain experience all crammed into a seemingly-simple 270 meter route.
Later, this route was to show me how great it is to have friends climb with you.
I remember trying to put a biiiiiig new route up on Baden Powell with Alex last season. The highlight of the day was us going back and forth in Southern accents about 'Mud Pickets', and their essential use climbing in Mine Gulch. God, that sucked. Sorry to drag you out there, Alex. Kinda a waste of time in a way, but it was sorta fun, up until I hit a wall near the car and I couldn't goddamn move any further.
Better luck next season, when it's colder!
The view from atop One Nut Wonder was the most amazing view ever, just as I had predicted. I want to do this route again sometime, making damn sure I get to view the sunset from the upper 'pitches' of the route. I predict it will be the most beautiful thing in the world. Took four tries to climb this route. Persistence pays off.
Going up Snow Creek with Zach and Alex, with Alex speeding along (since he actually trained unlike myself), Zach and I trying to reach the top. I was DESTROYED by the time we hit somewhat-level ground. Those Japanese coffee candies (Coffee GO!) were all we had left. Unfortunately, I wasn't dead enough to be looney, just dead.
The last trip I remember was a simple climb up Baldy Bowl. Nothing special planned. For whatever reason, everything came together that day. Met some of y'all up on top (Dave, Norris!), weather was BEAUTIFUL with some whiteout later on (my favorite), and the company of some badass dudes, Chris F, and of course my numba wun crimbing pahtnuh, Fritz.
That day was simply epic.
And any day with Kelly on the team is ridiculous...
After 'saving' money for new ice tools since 2005, I finally got a pair of Grivel Matrix Lights. I've used them ONCE... on a fun, albeit very easy climb of Telegraph Peak's Northwest Face. Got to meet Miguel Carmona on top, and we chatted for an hour or two. Another dude (sorry, my memory fails me
) met us on top, and we ended up heading down Thunder and Big Butch Wash (BBW, LOL) to the cars. A cool day on an average route that still turned out badass.
I wanna do another climb up a big local face, something that takes a day and goes through all sorts of good stuff. Something with awe-inspiring exposure, a good strong technical route that engages your mind instead of a beaten path up a mountain that just hurts your knees and joints. Something that makes you smile and remember why the mountains are what life is all about. It's all up there, every feeling, every aspect of life is reflected in a climb. I'd often go up a route feeling very lonely and rather depressed at sunrise, and by sunset I'd top out, beaten, usually bleeding from a few places on my body, and with a giant grin on my face, skipping down the trail with the moonlight shining off the snow. Put my iPod on with some good smooth trance music (ATB) for atmosphere... life is beautiful. A healing journey. Lessons taught by the mountains. A school you go to where axes are your pens and pencils, crampons on yer feet, and your book back has heavy pointy shit strapped to it.
I haven't climbed in so damn long. I've got no money, too many stupid fix-it tickets, court dates for them, financial aide necessary for survival in school that's always on the edge of collapse, no gas in my car, no motivation in my heart, messed up knees, a kinked back from carrying triple-digit heavy packs, a bed that's way too comfortable at 4 in the morning
, stoooopid bizniss with the worthless DMV, etc etc etc. Oh, and no harness or belay device. And a hundred too many excuses. I've cancelled plans for so many climbs (Rainier) because I literally have nothing to go with, no money at all. No job. Nobody is hiring. Everyone is in the crapper. (Why can't I enjoy video games and staying at home on my fat ass?)I need a climb. Another badass adventure... TRADventure
... in Icehouse Canyon...Who's up? I'm fucking serious!
I have been interested in learning some climbing skills for a while now, my gf took a class at her school but I havent had money to take one of my own yet. 
