Hatch a Plan

Even in the heart of winter, you still get the hatch. Sure, they're just midges, but they're bugs just the same. Wading out into the waters of the South Platte, beneath towering granite faces, you realize that the South Platte valley is one of the prettiest places in Colorado, and it offers an amazing playground for the hopeful angler, and the aspiring granite master. The fly rod partners with the trad rack. Heaven!

I was just out on Sunday with my great friend Dave, and we took advantage of the sunny day in the mid 40's. Dave had been down to that particular stretch of gold medal trout stream enough times to feel confident with the fly rod, and he talked me into busting out of bed at some ungodly hour to head south in the hopes of coaxing fish to bite out tiny flies dangling off nearly invisible tippet. One of the big drawbacks of fishing in the heart of winter is that all life slows down, and most of the bugs are tiny. The fish seek deeper water to conserve energy, and the action on the water can be slow. Even so, the scenery is breathtaking, and with patience, there are still plenty of fish to be had. Now that I've been there, I cannot wait to get back.

I started out the day with a bang, landing a beautiful, dark brown on my 3rd cast. Sadly for me, that was about the end of the glamor. The rest of the day was spent largely breaking off entire rigs of 7X (width of a human hair) line and multiple flies. I think all told, I lost at least a dozen. I found some solace in the fact that Dave was catching fish, and that I must have been gaining practice that would hopefully pay later dividends.

Talking about how much fun we'd had while we were driving back to Boulder, I got inspired to return for more time on the river, with bookends of climbing to augment the fun. Lately, I've been on a real kick for trad climbs and perfect crack pitches, and the Turkey Rocks area just down the road from where we fished is some of the best in the state. Expect to find me down there with other angler/tradsters soon. With the van, I'm hoping for some trips that extend for at least 4 days.

New Year, New Plans, and a Triple X rated goal

Weird. I'd been in this odd funk for the past couple of weeks, battling this whole malaise of physical sickness, impatience, and dissatisfaction with where I was at the moment. It's weird to think of life's natural rhythm sending you sideways with little control of the situation, but for a while, I'd certainly not been the same self I remember being from the past year. I needed to shape up, make some plans, remember what's right, and get out of the ditch. If I left it up to coincidence and chance, I could be bummed out for months!

Some of the main reasons I felt like 2010 was so successful were because I'd been focused on building a relationship with Julia, climbing tons of cool, inspiring, and intimidating routes, and trying to avoid wasting much time. When I was working, I'd focus on work. I wanted to ask the smartest questions possible, and give time to thought about what I could do to best utilize my clients' time (and thereby money). I was trying to get better in my career.

When I wasn't billing hours, I tried to either spend the time with JK with the greatest presence of mind possible, or get out and climb as hard as I could imagine. I found a place where I could tell my girlfriend that I loved her while not giving up a dream to climb The Capitan, spent a month in the Red, sent more hard sport routes, and generally have a blast. I was getting everything finished that I wanted, and still working, making money, and advancing things with clients.

At the start of 2010, I was letting things get routine with Julia, having trouble getting motivated by outdoor climbing projects, and in a slow patch with work. I was monitoring Rights-of-Way, but not working on new projects. Then I got the flu, and totally lost patience. I wasn't getting stuff done regarding work with a new client on a project I'd hoped to court, the sky was gray and after recently finishing The Bone Collector, had nothing new to motivate me to get outside.

The Bone Collector

I spent four days working on a route called The Bone Collector this winter, and I'm proud to report that I did it on Saturday. The sustained finger crack is down at Golden's Quarry Wall, just around the corner from where I started to climb on my first top ropes and timid leads. The wall is special to me in that it's just behind my father's house, on a large swath of public parkland. The crag is so close to "home" that I think of it as a kind of magic back yard. I had a similar realization when I was climbing at Muir Valley this fall - that I was literally on someone's private, back yard playground. Golden is mine, even if plenty of people are ashamed to admit they were climbing there - the grades too easy and the gumbies oppressively abundant.

The good news is that we're all beginners, from time to time. Even after we've triumphantly declared ourselves elite experts. I sure felt like a nervous neophyte at times as I went through the process of learning how to climb this route. The gear is very good, but the crack selective in where a solid piece would fit. That said, the entire climb is basically as safe as a sport climb. Something, though, about trying hard, even above solid cams, can prove distracting. I needed to be switched on for the entirety of this pitch, and the 70 odd feet occasionally felt much taller.

I'll spare you the beta blow by blow, because even to a climber audience, it can be cripplingly boring. Suffice it to say that some small cams protect hard moves on very good rock. Much of the movement is done with a higher proportion of balance than brute strength, though subtle technique and a clear head help push the climber through the crux.

For days on end, I lacked at least a part of the above equation. Thank you, then, to all the patient belays from Josh, Brian, Greg, and Rob, and support from onlookers. With your help, I was eventually able to learn the lessons necessary for success. I'm highly boosted by the understanding that I'm capable of Collecting those Bones.

The Naked Edge

Josh encouraged me with the idea of linking the first two pitches. “Start up the finger
crack, and then when you get up onto the slab, you’ll see the two bolt anchor. Check in,
and see how you feel. If you’re psyched, keep climbing. You don’t need much gear,
there are pins and bolts, and just make sure you still have a green Camalot. You can’t
miss where it goes. I think that’s the way to start The Edge.”

Such a suggestion was diametrically opposed to my first timid overtures towards one of
Colorado’s other big, proud 5.11 trad lines. Wunch’s Dihedral, a perfect granite corner
on the Cynical Pinnacle in the South Platte, had left you demoralized and frustrated
several years before. I fell multiple times, had a fit on lead, and whined my way to the
summit. The only thing that got me there was my partner, and he was gracious enough to
stop talking to me by pitch 3.

Last April, I had a chance to do some onsight battling with another titan; Eldorado
Canyon’s famed Naked Edge. I badly wanted to put forth an effort worthy of that
iconic sentinel boasting in the sun. I needed some sort of redemption for my past
embarrassment. I put a stop to the recollection of failure, and started climbing.