Another doozy is the age-old confusion over desert/dessert. Which one is which? They'll tell you in school that all kids want TWO desserts, and the letter "S" appears twice in a row in the word describing that sweet treat. Phooey. I salivate for the unforgiving environs of the desert (one S) as much as any piece of chocolate cake.
Want photo proof? Check out these images of me on Camping Under the Influence and End of Insanity, shot by Chris Brown of Highexposures.com.
This was actually my third trip of the season out to Indian Creek. In addition to Chris, I was out with the brothers Joel and Neil Kauffman, Half man/Half Yeti Jesse Huey, and old faithful...Fosh Jinkel. These three trips have me feeling reasonably honed on the splitter Wingate sandstone, and I'm looking forward to putting the refined jamming abilities to the test on rock that requires a little more thought and a little less thug. Even so, I've had a great time this Spring out in The Desert.
Some of that enjoyment has to come from familiarity. Even back in college, we were making the pilgrimage from Boulder to the canyon south of Moab. Class would end (or at least we made the executive decision to scrap any remaining classes for the week) on Thursday, and with the car packed, we'd make it to camp just a few hours after dark. Those days, tents were pitched just off the paved road and under the shadow of the Supercrack Buttress. No more. Camping is understandably restricted, and with so many climbers wandering around, noses buried in Bloom's guidebook hoping to unearth the next Incredible Hand Crack, we're moving farther and farther down the road in search of more privacy.
We're also searching out some different lines and cliffs that are a little more remote than the typical fare above the now paved parking lot. Where a scraped bumper used to be nearly guaranteed, now 80 cars can glide to a stop on tarmac. I guess as we evolve as climbers, the area evolves as well.
So while you can't put the genie back in the bottle, or the Indian back in Indian Creek, at least you can try to treat it with respect, and enjoy the time spent in this magical place. A Spring well spent.
