Back from the Slope

I'm back, baby! Both online and in the flesh.

For the first time since I cracked my hoof, I headed out to Rifle for more than just a quick weekend jaunt. This particular trip had me out there for the past six days of awesomeness. Dan Richelson and I drove out in my car, the two of us stuffed into my car with all of our food, climbing gear, and his dog taking up the entirety of the backseat. We're true Americans. Two tents, two coolers, three ropes...no sharing. European families can somehow take a vacation from Belgium to Spain and only bring a backpack and a pack of smokes, but somehow Dan and I needed a full sized automobile.

If you've never met Dan, your life isn't quite as good as it could be. At the moment, he has this insane mullet/JewFro thing going on, and he can grow a full neanderthal beard over dinner. The fact that he spent a chunk of the trip talking about his physics 2 class he's taking, complete with the necessary brain power I'm sure it took for him to dumb it down for me, made it grow in all the thicker. At one point, I joked that with his shirt off and his hair caked in 3 days of climbing grease, he looked like an escapee from a life sized diorama at a history museum's spectacle on primitive man. The beard was going, his sweater vest shrouded his abdomen in secrecy, and he just laughed as he pulled on a 1980's headband to "keep the hair outta the ears." Dan doesn't take himself too seriously, but he's goddamn hilarious.

The weather was grim at the start of the trip, but we kept our climbing confined to the Ruckman cave and it's shelter from the precip. I needed to get into town to check emails for work on Friday morning, so we avoided some of the crappiest weather while I billed a few hours. With that menacing responsibility out of the way, the two of us headed back into the canyon and by that late afternoon, we were back to good, cooler temps and relative sunshine. Knowing that fall is quietly peeking from the next page of the calendar is comforting. Especially since grabbing slopers with shitty texture wrecked my skin. I need some consistently cool temps before my fingertips fall off.

Having more than just two days makes a trip out to the Slope so much more relaxing. We climbed the first two days, and then were able to fully enjoy a rest day, get cleaned up, and regrow some skin before getting back after it. Dan and I both ended up sending In Your Face, a stout little 12D with a heartbreaking finish that had spit both of us off multiple times. I was really glad to get that finished, as I felt like it marked a bit of a return to hard climbing for me after my time off, and it was Dan's first 12D at any venue...quite an accomplishment!

I also managed to do a new 12A, 12B, and nearly did a 13A called Beer Run, falling at the infamous Tombstone crux on a sneaky good burn. The previous attempt was the first time that I managed to even do all of the moves, so I was shocked when I nearly pulled off the comando send. Oh well, I'm still happy with the effort, even if it technically was a failure.

After the weekend crowd rolled back to Boulder, I kept hanging with Dan, Samson the Dog, and our buddy Josh Finkelstein. Josh was passing through the canyon on his way back from 6 weeks of climbing in CA, and as we hung out in his 1987 Toyota poptop van known as Dirtbag Fabulous, two realizations came to me. First: I need to buy a van and climb as much as possible. Second: dates are an INCREDIBLE food. (Especially when high).

Sorry mom.

I'm going to try to race back to finish Beer Run, maybe Friday and Saturday. I need to be back for a party Saturday night, and then for a friend's birthday on Sunday...so the pressure will be on to get it done.
I'll keep you posted. Adios, voyeurs!