Friday afternoon I made the last minute decision to bag the weekend of skiing and head to the desert for my friend Micah Dash's 30th birthday party. Here is the birthday boy himself, looking like he's been in the desert for awhile, with his girlfriend Amelia back and to his right and Ned back and to the left. I first met Micah many years ago when I was a young neophyte climbing in Yosemite Valley. He was pretty much a full time climbing bum then, but occasionally took the time to complete a semester of school at CU. While I was finishing up in Boulder we would sometimes run into each other on campus, and soon became partners for sport climbing. I climbed my first ever 5.13 with Micah belaying me, and he has been a good friend since. I had not seen Micah in almost a year, and seeing as how there would be a large and fun posse climbing in The Creek, and it was his birthday, I just had to make the trip.
Kristo was already on his way out from Boulder, but we agreed to rally together from my house. I managed to beat him there on my way home from Snowmass by just a couple of minutes, and one speeding ticket and about four hours later we made it to the monkey bivy beneath the Bridger Jack spires. Next day we climbed with a large crew at the Reservoir Wall. Here is Kristo climbing the short but amazing Left Crack, which he managed to redpoint at 5.12, being belayed by John Dickey.
I played top-rope hero for the day, which was really quite mellow and allowed me to try a bunch of very hard climbs that would have required far more gusto to lead. As the day went on more friends kept arriving and the anticipation of the impending party grew. Gobi covered hands and impending darkness eventually drove everyone away from the cliff and back to camp, where the party ensued. A clear full moon night, a campfire, whiskey, beer, and lots of people made this a good one to remember.
I love the openness of the desert. I have always been attracted to desolate, remote places, where there are no sounds except the wind or an occasional bird, and lights from towns don't even come close to penetrating the darkness of night. I love being able to watch the entire sky light up during a sunset in colors that would look fake if they were painted; with no buildings or telephone wires to obstruct the view. We remained in the desert for two more days, climbing and relaxing, cooking and hiking, until everyone had somewhere else they needed to be. Somehow when I leave the memories all become blended into the giant continuum of desert road-trip memories, eventually becoming indistinguishable from every other trip to the desert, but always enshrouded by that feeling of comfortable loneliness which draws me back with wonder every time.
Friday afternoon I made the last minute decision to bag the weekend of skiing and head to the desert for my friend Micah Dash's 30th birthday party. Here is the birthday boy himself, looking like he's been in the desert for awhile, with his girlfriend Amelia back and to his right and Ned back and to the left. I first met Micah many years ago when I was a young neophyte climbing in Yosemite Valley. He was pretty much a full time climbing bum then, but occasionally took the time to complete a semester of school at CU. While I was finishing up in Boulder we would sometimes run into each other on campus, and soon became partners for sport climbing. I climbed my first ever 5.13 with Micah belaying me, and he has been a good friend since. I had not seen Micah in almost a year, and seeing as how there would be a large and fun posse climbing in The Creek, and it was his birthday, I just had to make the trip.
Kristo was already on his way out from Boulder, but we agreed to rally together from my house. I managed to beat him there on my way home from Snowmass by just a couple of minutes, and one speeding ticket and about four hours later we made it to the monkey bivy beneath the Bridger Jack spires. Next day we climbed with a large crew at the Reservoir Wall. Here is Kristo climbing the short but amazing Left Crack, which he managed to redpoint at 5.12, being belayed by John Dickey.
I played top-rope hero for the day, which was really quite mellow and allowed me to try a bunch of very hard climbs that would have required far more gusto to lead. As the day went on more friends kept arriving and the anticipation of the impending party grew. Gobi covered hands and impending darkness eventually drove everyone away from the cliff and back to camp, where the party ensued. A clear full moon night, a campfire, whiskey, beer, and lots of people made this a good one to remember.
I love the openness of the desert. I have always been attracted to desolate, remote places, where there are no sounds except the wind or an occasional bird, and lights from towns don't even come close to penetrating the darkness of night. I love being able to watch the entire sky light up during a sunset in colors that would look fake if they were painted; with no buildings or telephone wires to obstruct the view. We remained in the desert for two more days, climbing and relaxing, cooking and hiking, until everyone had somewhere else they needed to be. Somehow when I leave the memories all become blended into the giant continuum of desert road-trip memories, eventually becoming indistinguishable from every other trip to the desert, but always enshrouded by that feeling of comfortable loneliness which draws me back with wonder every time.
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