The Year of 23

Just over a year ago my life changed in a number of ways.  As I closed a chapter of my life at Appalachian State University I gladly opened the next, post-graduation.  My graduation weekend occurred with an emotional roller coaster.  The life I had known for the last four years and loved so dearly was coming to an abrupt end.  On one hand I was saying "legitra'ot" (see you later in Hebrew להתראות) to many friends, family, and mentors.  But on the other hand I was starting fresh, leaving with no strings attached on my journey that was sure to be full of excitement and adventure.  So without further ado, here is a lengthy synopsis of what has the potential to be my best year, The Year of 23.

I woke up early and disgruntled, I was supposed to do my hair, I was supposed to be excited.  Instead I did what was only natural to me, make sure my hair looked decent enough and put on some clothes and a minimal amount of make up.  This was how I've looked for the last 4 years of my college career why put on a show and change today?  Plus I hadn't slept well and already said see ya to many a friend.  I made it to the convocation center and went through the motions of graduation.  I walked across the stage when my name was called, I shook hands with Chancellor Peacock, I gave the best fake smile I could muster, and I took a picture in front of the Appalachian sign with my brother as a drizzle began.  This was it, this was graduation.  Sure didn't feel like what I had imagined instead it was just something to do on Mother's Day.

The cliche graduation picture (just as the drizzle began)...check

The days leading up to graduation were much more promising, at least the good parts were so I'll focus on those.  After moving out of my apartment on Friday and looking at the forecast it appeared this would be the last time I would have to go climbing in Boone for quite a while so that's what I did.  I gleefully carried two crash pads to the Neighborhood Boulders.  Things were going great, I had completed all my exams, moved completely out of my apartment, completed my Honors requirements and thesis, and all of my immediate family was on their way to Boone for the first time since summer camp.  All that was left to concur was my project, The Adam Taylor Arete.  I knew I should probably have a spotter due to the potential hazardous fall but I also knew I could send it.  I set up the pads, put on a Katana on my right foot for the heel hook and a Viper on the left for edging precision, chalked up, pressed record on the camera, took a deep breath and began.  The result is below... sorry didn't feel like editing or even putting music but got some uncut footage bros

I was beyond psyched.  I remembered the first time I had tried this, it had felt impossible, I never thought I would figure out my own beta but over many days and nights of hard work, lots of falling, perfect temps, good times, and beers it had gone.  I had done it, being alone gave me time to reflect on the past four years and how thankful I was to have gone to such a wonderful school, in an amazing place, and with such incredible people.  To make things more cliche, I topped out with a beautiful sunset in the background, things were lovely.  The following day, my only graduation request (besides the coolest Leatherman from my brother) was to have a lunch with some of my mentors and friends.  The guests included people that have made a tremendous impact on my life along the way, truly shaping me into the person I have become.  It wasn't much but it was a token of appreciation for all their work with me over the years.  If you are reading this now, more than likely you know me, therefore these people too have touched your life because they have shaped me. 

My family has been my rock throughout my entire life.  They have supported me through sports practices and competitions, good times and bad, surgeries and sickness, etc.  They have continued to praise my accomplishments and give me constructive criticism to better myself.  My father has been an inspiration for most of my projects and encouraged me to try new things today, because no one is guaranteed tomorrow.  My mother has always taught to me follow my dreams no matter how big they are.  And my brother well he's been my best friend for the past 23 years and has always been the guy to admire.

Graduation Lunch

My supportive family!

Nick & Sophie, these two are more than words can say.  Nick was my camp counselor from 6th grade on and Sophie as well for my aging out year.  The following year our relationship transformed into a friendship as I joined the staff at camp and we were all co-workers.  That summer Nick took me climbing at Grandmother for the first time and I was hooked.  The rest of my high school was spent in climbing gyms with an occasional trip to get on some real rock.  When it was time for me to choose between colleges it only seemed natural to become a Mountaineer and our friendship was rekindled.  I became part of their family with no hesitation.  Every month or so I would stay at their house for a home cooked me and to get away from dorm life.  Sophie would pick me up and we would go snowboarding in the winter, I would meet Nick on campus before heading to Cha Da Thai or Proper for lunch.  They are my family, they give me advice when I need it, concepts to ponder until early hours of the day, shoulders to cry on, and a place to call home.  

Family: Nick & Sophie

Lastly, Dr. Sue Edwards gave me opportunities that have changed my life.  When I returned from New Zealand as a junior, well I simply longed to return.  It was great to see friends and family and climb in the high country again but it wasn't New Zealand.  I reached out to Sue, who was my professor in Human Systems Physiology at the time, and an Aussie.  Her class was fascinating and her accent reminded me of classes down under (for the record though, Aussie's and Kiwi's have distinctly different accents aye).  During a class on the nervous system she had explained how her best friend in Australia lived with Multiple Sclerosis, following this lecture I knew I had a deeper connection with her even if she didn't yet realize this.  I went to her office hours and asked if she had any space in her laboratory and if I could join.  I shadowed and learned the basics for the remainder of the semester before she put me on my own project involving Lamprey and Hagfish funded by a grant from NSF.  She went over the basics with Margo and I..."just follow the recipes and pipette precisely, each ~10mL experiment is between $50 and $200."  I was terrified of messing something up but she trusted me and gave me the confidence to trust myself.  I began spending many hours and evenings in lab, carrying out experiments and hoping for results.  When it was time to undertake a thesis there was no one else I would have considered besides Sue.  She edited and tweaked my thesis time and time again even though she is the busiest person I know she always made time for her students.  She opened a number of doors for me, allowing me to go to Utah to present research at the National Conference of Undergraduate Research, making me a competent research technician, and taking me with her Mount Desert Island Biological Laboratory.  She has instilled confidence and competence in me, she has been hard on me at times but only because she cares, and she continues to put a smile on my face to this day. 

Sue and I in some interesting attire...oh graduation

Okay so that was the real graduation.  Two days later I walked through airport security and made my way to Cape Town, South Africa, via Dubai.  I traveled and hiked around the amazing city before heading to Bloemfontein for an internship in Nutrition.  I was based in private and public hospitals, as well as rural areas and townships to experience the importance of nutrition in a country consumed of poverty, hypertension, diabetes, and HIV/AIDS.  If you would like an in depth record of this journey please visit my South Africa Blog.  I learned a copious amount during this time and met many people that are incredible at what they do.  Following the internship I found some people on a climbing website who were excited to split the costs of driving to the Cederburg National Forest to climb in ROCKLANDS!

Measuring head circumference at my internship

Rocklands was a dream come true.  There were boulders spanning the entire landscape and world class climbing everywhere.  Sitting around the fire in the evenings you would meet people from countries around the globe.  The weather was not ideal but it didn't stop us from climbing as much as possible.  I ended up climbing with some amazing guys that were more than hospitable.  After a week of climbing, a visit to the emergency room, raw fingertips, and being encouraged in over 5 different languages we headed back to the coast.  I said my farewells to my new South African friends and boarded the plane.  I can't wait to Rocklands Round 2!

Love Match, Stone Terrance, Rocklands, ZA

Back in American I unpacked and repacked, within 12 hours I was driving to Maine with Margo.  Sue offered us an incredible opportunity to work with live hagfish and further our research endeavors at Mount Desert Biological Laboratory. It just so happened that Kathleen was living only 6 miles away, this would be the longest we had been together since NOLS, 4 years prior.  The research was enjoyable and had sporadic hours, allowing us time to do all sorts of things.  We got delicious meals, went on gorgeous hikes, went climbing, had Hagfish slime everywhere, and had access to an incredible lab.  We worked as hard as we played and ate fresh lobster without breaking the bank, all in all it was an incredible opportunity learning about the oldest and most interesting fish in the world. 

Hagfish experiments, greatest fish ever!

Following Maine my brother, Jon and I set out to learn more about our roots in Israel.  Having taken a step back from religion over the past few years we did not have many expectations for the trip but we were excited to travel and be able to experience Israel together.  Surprisingly every expectation I had and didn't have were exceeded.  We traveled with some other amazing Americans and well as Israeli soldiers.  I learned more than I had in years of Sunday School and came away with more new friends than I have ever made in 10 days.  It was truly a wonderful and spiritual journey.

The Western Wall

I had a slight lull from my year of travels so I moved to West Virginia with a friend.  We slept in our cars or a tiny cabin, and by tiny cabin I mean 2ish bunk beds and a small fridge at a campground, yep that was all but it was grand.  Waking up and making eggs on the Coleman two burner, packing lunches and then climbing on some of the best quality rock out there.  The climbing was endless and the psych was high.  After climbing I would usually go for a run and then try and get more sponsors for our trip, life was simple and life was good. 

Landon

October rolled around and I said goodbye to West Virginia and all the amazing friends I now had, I'd be back soon and hopefully for a whole season someday.  I headed back to NC to prepare for the big road trip.  Kathleen flew down, we packed up and then we were on our way!  I felt great to cut the ties holding us to the east coast and fly.  Throughout this trip we both were 23 so we found it only natural to try and accomplish 23 things in sets of 23.  Therefore over the next blog posts I will list our "List of 23" things we did in 23!  I hope you enjoy and I promise not all the blog posts will be this long!

To start off, one of the first things we did in 23 was...

#1

Location: Las Vegas, NV

We went trick or treating at 23 different houses before walking the strip.

Our favorite remarks...

From a young boy handing out candy "Aren't y'all a little old to be doing this...Mom I'm not giving them candy"

From a Dad handing out candy "I think I'm going to need to see your IDs."

Betty (from the Flintstones) in Vegas!

Did That Really Just Happen…Yes, yes it did.

January 31^st…possibly the most ridiculous day of the road trip thus far

It began like any other day in Mammoth…pretty crisp with blue skies.  I had surprisingly slept well and it was miraculously warm out.  Kathleen and I rendezvoused at the apartment to gather up the last of our belongings that we would be storing at Mountain Center for the following week.  Then we got to packing the car and meticulously cleaning our shabby room.

The previous day, somewhat of a miracle happened…we found a place (Z Ranch) to host a benefit and raffle show for Climbing4MS on Friday, February 15^th.  President’s weekend is supposed to be one of the busiest times at Mammoth, therefore saying we are psyched is an understatement!  After getting the wonderful news we tidied up a bit before our employee party where delicious food and great company were a constant, not to mention we watched Hot Dog (an 80s ski movie, when EJ was in his prime).

Anyways back to the 31^st…We went around town after dropping off the keys to our room and posted flyers up.  We received good feedback and more donations for the raffle from some of the outdoor and coffee shops in Mammoth.  We headed to Mountain Center to drop off our last load when we realized how warm it was outside and then the lightbulb turned on…”Why don’t we go skiing in jeans and be ridiculous, well just because we can and it's our last day in town?”

Skiing in jeans...yea

Somehow when this came out of my mouth it didn't sound half bad so we added…”Why not in matching tank tops too?”  It was settled.  We parked the car, returned to Mountain Center, and changed into jeans, matching neon Giddy tank tops, white beanies, goggles, mittens and ski boots just before grabbing a bottle of bubbly.

Stretching out at the top of Canyon Express 

Champagne was sipped not very properly on the gondie ride from the village.  Once on the mountain we put on our skis and wrapped Champagne in our capes (also doubled as Stuessy sweatshirts).  We had forfeited ski poles in order to hold Champagne and for added enjoyment which was one of the best decisions of the day.  We were received well on the slopes; our tank tops deterred anyone from making judgments about the fact that we were wearing JEANS!  The lifties were super psyched for us and swiftly got us on the chair where we drank the rest of the Champagne heavily. 

Andre!

At the top we buckled our boots and made the rule(s)…

Rule #1: Don’t wipe out

So Kathleen says she was impressed that I could ski and I swear I can but…here’s a look at run #1.  What a beauty to be caught on tape

Well after that the skiing got a bit smoother although the altitude was affected us with alcohol a little bit more.  We skied to Main Lodge and said hello to some friends that looked at us with the “wow you are slightly ridiculous” expression.  That didn’t bother us because we were off to better things upstairs…ice cream, beer, and sunshine.  We sat outside chatting until a friendly boss-ish type person stopped by leaving us tongue-tied.  He chatted like we were sitting in our work uniforms instead of neon tanks and jeans, yet we were fairly mortified that he probably thinks we ski like this all the time.  Oh well we were tipsy and it was time to head back and hit the road.

We drove to San Diego and stopped for dinner where Kathleen had her very first experience at Taco Bell.

Things just got real.

February 3^rd…possibly the best day of the road trip thus far

Once again it started like any normal day.  And once again I had surprisingly slept superbly next to Kathleen in the car.  We woke up in a San Diego Wal-Mart parking lot, content as could be.  We weren't exactly sure what was on the agenda for today so we started with the usual…into Wal-Mart for some teeth brushing.  Once our hygiene was in order it was off to Starbucks, which we went to in a roundabout way.  We updated the blog and all that jazz before we realized there was a kitten adoption happening at a pet store.  Obviously we made our rounds and played with them, simply because we miss animals and like to feel our hearts ache.

Then it was on to business.  It was nearing 11 o’clock and I was supposed to call a representative from Head to see if he wanted to do lunch with us.  He should’ve just been getting off a place from the gear show in Denver so I doubted he would have the energy to go to lunch with two random girls he met in Mammoth.  I gave him a ring and on the third ring I realized I would be leaving a message and Leena and I would be eating lunch on some beautiful beach, just the two of us.  But then he picked up and said lunch at noon, well there was nothing else to say except “alright see ya there” and try to contain my excitement and nervousness. 

We looked in the mirror…shit.  Our hair was greasier than fries from McDonalds and we were a mess.  Showers were necessary seeing as we really wanted to make good impressions.  We found the closest beach and scouted a shower…20 minutes until lunch.  I ran back to the car to get Leena and our shower stuff, yes we would be taking pretty legit showers in beach access rinse off showers.  We turned the corner and all of the once empty spigots were consumed by surfers of all ages.  We didn't have time, we hesitated for a mere second, grabbed the shampoo and let the frigid water coat ourselves.  We were definitely the talk of all who caught a glimpse, people starred and giggled and one surfer even remarked “Wow, ya’ll really are homeless huh?”  Oh well, it was an experience that has turned into a story, but you have to do something when you've got greasy hair and an important lunch meeting.

We did get asked if we were homeless.

We pulled into Schooner or Later in the Marina near Long Beach and it’s packed, there is no way we are getting a table anytime soon.  I call Steve and he simply says walk straight and you’ll see me.  We all reunite with friendly hugs and are then introduced to the rest of the party.  Everyone hit it off splendidly and we’re chatting about gear shows and how Schooner or Later has been on the Real Eats TV Show a number of times and everyone at the table (minus us) has appeared on the show.  The food was out of this world, right behind the company.  As we’re chatting Leena and I realize that the gentleman to my right, the one I’ve been joking that he is looking better by the minute from the specialty mimosa I’m drinking, that guy owns the place.  We are eating lunch with the owner of one of the most well-known restaurants in California.  He proceeds to tell us what other restaurants he owns while the Head rep invites us to stay in EJ’s room that evening as long as we can handle getting attacked by terrors of love.

The terrors of love...Mya & Sam

As we left lunch with plenty of delicious left overs we couldn’t get to the car fast enough.  We softly spoke “just make it to the sound proof box…shut the doors…shut the doors.”  Then yes squeals of 12 yr old girls vacated our bodies as we tried to convince ourselves “yes that really just happened.”

The rest of the day we go on a tour of Denny’s restaurants.  After Schooner or Later we made our way to Schooner at Sunset.  This was more of a pirate bar, that was fantastic!  Great beer on tap and of course served in Schooners!  Major cool points…there was an outside shower on the back on the restaurant for surf breaks for the employees.  It had hot water too…how I wish we would’ve known this a few hours earlier.

Maybe the best beer I've ever had.  Victory At Sea at Schooner at Sunset!

We then changed into nicer attire and made our way to his upscale Asian restaurant, Tantalum, which has the best view for miles.  The Super bowl was on the Television but I couldn't stop starring at the view.  (By the way, could anyone else only think about The Little Giants Movie during the bowl?)  The bar looked over the water, and at sunset, it took me back to Holden Beach, my childhood, and my Dad.  The drinks here were sophisticated and there was something for everyone.  Weather you wanted to stick to the stellar Happy Hour menu or order a quality Asian dish the opportunities were endless.

We headed to Steve’s house off the Pacific Coast Highway where we were warmly welcomed by the girls and Steve.  We had a recap of the Super bowl and watched the Budweiser Clydesdale commercial that our fellow lunch goers were in.  We crawled into, quite possibly the largest bed I have ever slept in and settled in for the night in a house that fondly reminded me of my Oma’s house.  Sleep was on the agenda, shortly after some crosswords, since tomorrow we would be guiding for Climbing4MS.

Thank you to everyone who have helped make everything in my life “really happen.”

The road is calling.

Mammoth has been more than I could have imagined in most aspects.  The winter has been EPIC with the 2nd most snow in Mammoth's history and currently the best snow in North America.  We've got a base from 8 to 16 feet up to the summit.  Luckily I've had the opportunity to ride in powder, get stuck in some trees, and try to keep up with Kathleen racing down the groomers.

Gettin' some snow!

At the summit with the Minarets in the background.

The day we arrived we got jobs at Mountain Center working for Mammoth Mountain.  We didn't know what exactly we were getting ourselves into but I couldn't be happier.  This job has taught me an ample amount of information about sports I adore.  Most days I spend in the Family Center and Demo Shop setting people up on this season's newest skis and boots.  Technically I'm a cashier and rental technician.

Work is often accompanied by sweet ride breaks which correlated to lunches on the gondola and 2ish hours on the mountain.  Luckily I have some of the best co-workers and bosses around who hook it up.  Usually I'll ride with one of them during the day and then we'll all hang out in the evenings.  Happy Hours are the way to go in Mammoth and when your bosses join you rolling brown outs are likely to be had.

Mammoth Margaritas from the boss man.

During the holidays we were super busy and the mountain was packed.  Ride breaks were non-existent and unwanted.  Kathleen and I ended up working 7 days a week and on our first day off I came down with with a brutal case of the flu.  But now that it's slowed down our days off are spend on the mountain, rock climbing in Bishop, or applying for jobs.  I am psyched to get back to Bishop, Owen's River Gorge, and try my hand at ice climbing at Lee Vining and June. 

Climbing on our days off with Brett.

Surprisingly I'm falling in love with Mammoth and as of now I am planning to be back here next winter...possibly even for good.  Everyone keeps raving about the summers so I can't wait!  Plus Tuolumne and Yosemite are right around the corner.  Who knows what's to come but I'm stoked we stopped here.  Mammoth has made a lasting impression and opened lots of opportunities.

As much as we dig it here the road is beckoning and we'll continue our journey in a mere two weeks.  As of now our plans look like California for a week then to Arizona, Hueco Tanks, Ouray, and Salt Lake City.  We'll be meeting friends along the way and hopefully the fundraising will take off again.  Cheers ya'll!

Temporary Residence

This roadtrip has been the life I've been dreaming of and my temporary residence in Mammoth Lakes, CA has only solidified the "good life."  So a little recap...

On our way to Mammoth we stopped at the 5.10 Warehouse in Redlands, CA and the prices were UNREAL!!!  So obviously we had lots of decisions to make and were relieved we were heading to Mammoth for the month to get jobs and earn some dolla dolla bills (yea I can't believe I just wrote that, ignore it)

Once in Mammoth we immediately began looking for jobs.  Not too picky, we just knew we wanted to work for the mountain somehow.  By the end of the first day handing out resumes Kathleen and I became the newest employees of Mammoth Mountain!  Once that was taken care of a place to stay, with heat, was next on the agenda.  In between finding jobs and housing we crashed with Cruise and Ben so a huge thanks to you two!!!!  We ended up getting the last place in the building they live in so now we've got some rad neighbors, thanks fellas!

We had a day before our training started so we headed down to Bishop for some bouldering and some groceries that wouldn't cost us a fortune.  We had an incredible day at the Sad's bouldering with Brett Sherman from App.  Some highlights from the day were...

crazy toe hooks and monkey hangs on the Fang

perfect pockets on Norwegian

highballin' The Black Stuff 

and everyone trying hard on French Press & Molly 

I've got lots of projects for the Sad's so can't wait to go back sometime in the next month or so!

Sad Boulders in Bishop, Mammoth in the background.

From the Sad's we headed back up the mountain for training the following day.  The jam packed the training into 2 days so confusion was at an all time high but my bosses and co-workers are awesome and always down to lend a helping hand.  The training ended and the first real day of work (Wednesday) went great.  We we given a ride break to go out and enjoy the bluebird conditions and powder before we went to an amazing employee Christmas Dinner.  We finished up the day by hitting up the natural hot springs just outside of Mammoth.  The 14 degrees felt comfortable in the scalding hot waters with a starry night sky above.  To say the least I'm loving it here in Mammoth!

Minarets in the background from chair lift on Mammoth.

The holiday season has arrived along with busy hours at work.  Hopefully we'll be able to go out and play in the snow during breaks because it too has arrived.  We've gotten over 18 inches in the last 24 hours and we're expected 3-5 feet by Monday!  Christmas day is going to be stellar, Happy Holidays y'all!!!!

P.S. Cruise, Kathleen, and I rendezvous practically everyday at Roberto's during their Margarita Happy Hour Specials!

Cruise with the triple straw.

Indian Creek & A Climber's Community

First off I'd like to assure you that I have no idea why I am writing a blog, all I know is that I wanted to write some stuff down and I figured this might be a good way to do it.  I have no idea if I will ever post another blog entry, so don't get your hopes up, and if I do I can promise you they will not all be this long.  Plus I really just want to follow some other people's blogs so I got my own...that makes sense right...?

I often try to decipher whether climbing is more of an individual sport or a partnership.  I still have no answer because I can argue both ways but I think a balance between the two is necessary in addition to a great respect for the sport.  Consider a multi-pitch route; climbers are connected by a rope, literally a partnership is created, metaphorically it can be entirely different.  As I begin to climb away from my partner it’s as if I am cutting the rope and a connection to the world.  I am alone and climbing, that is all.  I choose where to place gear, I choose where to smear a foot or how to jam my hand into a crack, and I choose where to build an anchor and when to say “off belay!”  Sometimes spoken communication between partners is blown away with the wind and rarely can you catch a glimpse of the other end of the rope, instead one must rely on unspoken knowledge.  The belayer’s experience knows the speed of the rope running through their hands meaning your off belay or the extended pause while building an anchor, or the immediate force of being pull up and towards the rock insinuating the climber has fallen is part of both an individual and group experience.  

After 1040' and 10 pitches of climbing, Kathleen and I made it to the top of Dark Shadows. The majority of the climb we were separated but it was a joint effort the whole way up...and down.

Or take bouldering for example, a sport you can do with people or alone.  Recently I was asked what was so intriguing about bouldering to me (the majority of the people I’ve met stick to trad and ice).  I didn’t have an answer immediately and I thought of many reasons why I loved it but none I was satisfied with.  I don’t think words can describe the things I cherish most but one reason I enjoy bouldering is because it can be done alone.  When partners are busy or I need time alone I can go bouldering.  Although I can do many things alone I haven’t found anything comparable to bouldering.  When I place my foot on a tiny edge, grasp a sidepull or incut crimp and pull onto the rock it’s just me and the proceeding movement of flow.  All of my worries fade away, all of my insecurities are nonexistent, and all that is left is figuring out the flow of the problem and the path of least resistance to the top.  As much as I receive from bouldering alone it’s just as important to me as bouldering with others.  The atmosphere of friends or soon to be friends huddled together with their hands raised in the air following the climber as they ascend the rock, shouting words of encouragement or advice is a thrilling experience in itself.  The balance between the solitude of climbing and the community of climbing is one of the most magnificent aspects. ­­­

Nat on Solarium in the Happy's.  Bouldering with friends is fun and they got your spot!

Me on Bad Genes at New Joe's taking some time alone.

Community:  defined as a social group of people sharing common interests living in a particular area.  When I began climbing it was apparent that the people I frequently associated myself with were different from people I would pass walking in and out of the library every day.  You can usually pick them out of a crowd by their shoes or maybe their greasy hair but if you aren’t looking closely you’ll easily walk by them picking veggies in the grocery store.  The climbing community I experienced in Boone, NC instilled a deep rooted trust and openness to others who consider themselves “climbers.”  Without my entrance into the Boone climbing community I’m sure I wouldn’t be where I am now; westward bound living out of a tent.  I appreciate everyone whom I have climbed with and taught me a thing or two, weather it was the beta for a project or how to perfectly spread peanut butter using a stick.

A throw back to a good day with the Boone crew.  There's nothing quite like this picture. 

When I travel I notice that a community of climbers exists world-wide.  Climbers communicate and share information through technology of the internet (for example I am 78% sure I am starting a blog just to follow climber’s blogs I’ve met on my journeys) and through friends of friends.  Smaller groups exist depending on location, age, gender, and for various reasons; nonetheless we are all climbers.  This unity was magnified when I traveled to South Africa with a strong desire to climb.  When the time came for me to head to Rocklands my ride, from a friend of a friend, fell through.  Therefore I reached out, not to a stranger, but to a climber.  I posted on a climbing forum and within hours I had a ride to Rocklands, a tent to share, a crash pad to borrow, and partners to climb with.  People flocked from all over the world to experience this world class bouldering destination in South Africa although backgrounds were varied we all spoke a common language of climbing.   Whether someone was shouting “Venga!,” “Alle, Alle!,” “Kom Igen!,” or “Come on, you got it!” the remark was understood and the encouragement was received.

People from all over the world gathered round the fire at De Pakhuys in Rocklands, ZA. 

Each place has a slightly different take on the community it instills but they can all be linked through common threads.  No matter where I am in the world if I see someone wearing a Misty Mountain harness or frolicking through the woods with a Misty crash pad I immediately feel I’m a step past acquaintances with that person.  Misty Mountain Threadworks produces some of the highest quality climbing equipment in Valle Crucis, NC.  If you are rocking their gear it usually means you have some connection to the high country.  As I glace around a crag I notice who’s sporting a Misty and then strike up a conversation with them at some point or another, before you know it you realize you’ve both climbed with the same people and enjoyed the same places.  These climbing communities are varied and wide yet weaved throughout the world on so many levels.

This journey I call life is enhanced by the ones that I have merged paths with at one point or another.  Someone recently shared with me a quote that I’m currently finding more appropriate as time goes on…

"A journey is best measured in friends, rather than miles."

 Although there is a community of climbers round the world, Indian Creek, Utah is a place like no other.  You drive on the only road visable for miles before turning onto 211 where your cell phone reception begins to fade into the vastness of the horizon.  As the road weaves around the cliffs, ­the serenity of this place becomes apparent.  Down 211 are more splitter crack climbs than you can climb in a lifetime, larger star-filled skies than you can appreciate, and a community of people who thrive in the outdoors, away from the burden of technology.  Indian Creek is an oasis of beauty, reciprocated generosity, and a wealth of knowledge.

Kyle on Pente, a splittler line of hand jams. 

My first experience at Indian Creek was composed of a multitude of Saturdays, an occasional Sunday, and rarely a Satur-unday.  (If the above statement makes no sense use the following to decode… a Monday spent climbing = Saturday, a Thursday spent climbing = Saturday, a Sunday spent climbing = Saturday, a Tuesday spent resting = Sunday, a Thursday spent resting = Sunday, etc. therefore Saturdays are days spent thrashing on rocks, Sundays are spent leisurely relaxing and usually drinking, and Satur-undays are spent doing a combination of both.)

Rest day run in Canyonlands National Park with Brian.

Evenings in the creek were spent huddled around a campfire sharing jokes, climbing adventures of the day, introductions, plans for the following days, and simply good times.  If you weren’t sure which fire your friends ended up at while you were making a hot drink it was simple to find some warmth by approaching a fire and stating “Are you my friends?”  It is a full proof way of making friends because the response is always “we are now, come hang out!”  As we settled into the everyday life and made fires of our own the faces around them changed; the folks who welcomed us drifted away as old friends and new friends replaced their spots and added their own presence.  Fire pits changed locations but the people that made up each one was genuine and pure, before I knew it the guy on my right had climbed with a good friend who just gave me a pair of shoes.  The populations surrounding the fires were all here to climb and learn from each other, plus you can’t climb much at Indian Creek without shared gear (example I took 8 .75s up one climb with me).

So onto the climbing!  Before coming I asked a friend what the creek was like and this is what I got “Honestly it’s the coolest place I’ve ever climbed.  It’s a love, hate relationship.  It just clicks after a few days of torture, you will probably hate it at first but stick with it and you’ll fall in love.  It’s so gorgeous and serene out there it’s hard not to be happy.”  I thought I understood the words at first but I had no idea how right she was, I’m fairly certain truer words cannot be spoken.

My climbing goals for the creek were simple: Learn as much as I could, hopefully learn how to crack climb, and try hard.  I suppose I was successful in multiple ways: I learned more than I could have expected, I think I learned how to crack climb, and I tried so hard that I felt like I got my ass kicked on the regular.  Most climbs went something like this…I would go as fast as I could and try really hard, usually making progress anywhere from 6 inches off the ground to 60 feet then I would get to a size that  I got stuck at.  I would try until I fell then look down and ask “how do I do ringlocks? Or fists? Or what’s in between a hand and a fist? Or bigger than teacups? Or walk me though the caterpillar again.”  Then a large amount of struggling and thrashing would occur, or whipping if it was the rare occasion I tried to lead.  Someone would ask me how I liked the climb and I would reply simply “it’s amazing but I’ve never felt like I’ve fought with a rock so much in my life.”  Upon making it to the top of the climb a smile would spread across my face as the sweat dripped off my brow.  This was a fight worth continuing. 

With Brett, a friend from Boone, after my first clean lead in the creek! 

Over the couple weeks the climbing remained strenuous but I felt like I was catching on in lots of ways.  We made friends with “locals,” the ones who had been living in the desert for months by this point; they knew where to go to avoid the weekend crowds and had tons of useful tips for us gumby crack climbers.  One in particular was better than a guidebook and we ended up climbing with him frequently.  I say he is better than the guide because he knew all the best routes to hop on and the correct gear to take up with you.  If you couldn’t do it, he wouldn’t mind giving it a try.  When you asked about a route you heard was stellar but hard for thin hands you could be assured that he would remark “yea it’s pretty casual.”

Sam just keeping it casual on Middle Crack. 

Casual that’s the way the creek was.  Everyone woke up when the sun warmed their tent or van.  Not once did I ask what the grade of something was because as a female (a.k.a. one who doesn’t acquire the average male-sized hand) the grades were absolutely arbitrary.  Watches, and therefore time, was out of the question because you can’t crack climb with a watch on, it just doesn’t work.  Although the climbing may have been a bit more casual for the well-traveled crack climber the days always had the potential of being casual.  The act of climbing, personally, was never that casual but that would come with practice and patience.  Post climbing activities, i.e. dinner and fires, were attended in the casual wear, a big puffy and a headlamp.  All in all Indian Creek was a wonderful bubble where people are friendly and caring, we appreciate the beauty of nature and are all lost in some way but trust in the path that is laid before us.  This place, this atmosphere, and these people are one of a kind and something not to be missed.

Alix cruising up a splitter crack. 

If you're still reading this or it you just see these links, click on them to see a bit more why Indian Creek is so attractive to enjoy that takes the time to experience it...

A Desert Life
a short one on Indian Creek