Squish…

I’ve been sleeping in my car for the last 3 weeks in a dirt parking lot under some power lines. Days are spent sweating profusely while pulling through often grubby chunks of rock, and relaxing in the dirt. In 3 weeks the bathing total is 4, with one of those instances being in a creek. I’m sure whatever was living downstream died a terrible death choking on the vile detritus of human existance.

The great benefit of smelling so bad is that it undoubtedly masks the strong odours of the other climbing addicts populating the area. In this strange set of circumstances, smelling bad actually helps one to socialise.

In spite of all the great climbing around here, the people are truly what makes this experience great. I can’t think of another venue in which I’d gladly loan out hundreds of dollars worth of my trinkets to a perfect stranger on the condition that they bring back a story. Odds are they’re a migratory climber, and I’ll run into them some time in the next few months anyways… Whether it’s the Albertan crew welcoming us into their RV on a rainy day, the Alaskans sharing their whiskey, folks generously taking the time to provide any information on routes asked about, sharing cooking supplies, or even the legendary Bill… The guy in a giant blue pedo-van prepared for all occasions with a wheel chair lift, a box of warm PBR, and a 12 inch brown double ended dildo that used to be purple. (seriously.) … Anyways, pretty much everyone out here is down to help each other out, and as much as I miss my neighbors when they hit the road, I look forward to the new ones just as much.

The climbing has been great, highlights being Calculus crack to the North Buttress, Manana, sending the easiest gear 5.11 here in Kangaroo Corner, and getting thrashed this morning on a 5.11 offwidth called Hypertension… As much skin as I lost before I yielded, there’s this strange urge I have to get back ‘in’ there, and do it from the ground until it goes.

It’s hard to take any photos when you’re busy, but here’s a few.