Doctor of Philosophy in Biochemistry from McGill. I’m gonna learn French! Montreal, here I come.

As far as I’m concerned, this is the only option, The other 9 are just back-ups.

I remember being a student, all hyped up with lab-lust and delusions of research accolades. I remember when being the person who stayed in the lab the latest, listening to the most arcane music and doing the most obtuse analyses got the recognition of people who made you feel all fuzzy because they had multiple Ph.d.’s I remember that carrot.

Lately the research labs at the college have been employing the utility of many, if not exclusively, my former students – none of which I was ever very enthusiastic about at the time of their tenure in my introductory programs. When I saw their recruitment into said research labs, I simply rolled my eyes and thought “there goes a good opportunity to bad lab hands”.

Lately, I’ve been changing my mind, which is good for me. Every night I walk by the Phage Lab, the Pseudo Lab and others and see students whom I’ve historically not been impressed with – but I see them honing their skills, owning their work and ultimately doing what I did in biomedical research: growing, developing and becoming.

Tonight, as I walked by T-4 and noticed an old student – whom I’d wanted to strangle for his complete incompetence two years ago – 4 hours after quitting time, listening to his own jive, working on some special titer cocktail; I smiled and remembered myself as a student.

This is a good lesson for me, one I keep having to relearn all the time. It’s one of patience, tolerance and respect. My students are little nuggets of potential; constantly growing and changing – but they never start from exactly the same rung on the ladder.

It’s a reminder that this is a place of growth, change, challenge and success – and I can either stifle that success or I can continue to foster it.

I continue to humble myself and differentiate between the important things and the unimportant things. It is a constant struggle for me.

I remember being a student.

Some of my research as a student in biomedical engineering. Whole-body rat analysis: perfused with PBFDA, CD-21 and sectioned using BSI imaging cryomicrotome. Coronal section of rat cranium, notice the autofluorescnece of brain and eerie red false-color of the eye vitrea.

So there’s only one person other than myself that’ll understand the title, but you guys needed to have been with us today. It was a great day!

I slept in until 6 (a whole two hours!) when I woke up to some light rain outside my window. Dammit! I thought – no climbing today! It subsided and I called Erica for the meet-up beta. We met at Darby’s for breakfast at 8am (chicken fried steak, two over-easies on toast and some sort of hash brown substitute. Didn’t touch the potatoes). The ominous thing was we ate in the middle of an impressive thunderstorm that kinda killed our chances of climbing anything at all. Rain. Damn!

We’d wanted to get up to 38 before the rest of the crew (which was supposed to be huge today!) and get some burns in at Nevermind or We Did Rock before they showed. We were on the road at 9 with me beind the wheel and Erica playing D.J. with her fancy new I-pod thingamajigger.

Just north of Tacoma we called Dom for the rest of the crew beta. Dom called back after we were on 18 with bad news – Micah thought it was too wet, the rest of the girls thought it was too wet – and by that time WE thought it was too wet. We called Mika, still at 32, and told him that the crew had been rained out. Sorry, bro.

“But, we’re here Erica, whaddya wanna do?”

“I dunno, climb something fun?”

“How ’bout we hit L-town if I pay gas both ways.”

“Okay. Drive, boy.”

We drove to Leavenworth under gray and rainy skies with dreams of sugarplums and steep, steep granite sport pitches dancing in our heads. “Damn, but we don’t have a guide book and I’ve never climbed sport over there! We’ll just hit the ranger station and pick one up”, I said. “Okay”. I called my dad in Wenatchee for weather beta – he said it was already in the 80’s. I called Bullshit.

15 minutes east of Alpental the skies cleared, the birds came out and angels sang. The rest of the drive was a mutual discovery of Erica and Greg – getting to know new people when they’re good people is like riding a bike – it just works. We got to the closed Leavenworth ranger station just about noon. No guidebook to be had here….. “Well, there’s got to be a gear shop somewhere in town”.

“Yeah, lets park somewhere and blend in as tourists to find one.” I replied.

It didn’t take long before Erica found an outdoor shop on the “strip”. No help from the highly stoned lackey, but he did give us directions to the real gear shop that would rent us an out-of-date, uber-cryptic copy of the worst friggin guide book ever written for any crag. I mean Einstein couldn’t have found his own ass with the beta in this book. Absolutely stupid. DO NOT BUY this guidebook!

We headed up Icicle canyon, still with granite pitches dancing, but dancing a little less feverishly – it just happened to be that dad wasn’t full of bullshit – it was an oppressive 90-some degrees. Blah…I mean, VENGA!!!

We stopped at Bridge Creek, noting that Bridge Creek Wall offered some 5.9 and 5.10 sport routes. We found some nice rocks by the river and ate, drank, relaxed and tried to use our handy rosettastone to decipher the stupid guidebook glyphs.  We decided that the best route to Bridge Creek Wall was from Egg Rock, which I knew well.

The approach wasn’t from Egg Rock. But, since we were there, we thought we’d get in some bouldering. Erica is wicked. She nearly walked up China Cat (V.2) and gave a good look at the damned problem behind I heart Jerry Garcia that I can’t keep my feet on. She did hike a nice V.1 to the Right of China Cat and an unnamed V.0 with ease, grace and absolute control. Still, we wanted finger shredding granite pitches!

We stopped at Machine Gun Rock, where she sailed up and over Band of Gypsies (V.0) and Dirty Harry (V.1) and almost got Machine Gun Funk on the flash, but didn’t go down due to the long reach on the throw to the crimpy jug up high. I got to repeat though, on my first V.2 ever, like four times in a row today. It’s got seriously clean, fluid movement for such a tall guy. I really love that rock. Thanks, Micah – you’re the man!

We spent the rest of the next few hours looking for something that wasn’t mixed sport/trad or a .14d. We decided to hike up behind some other climbers at Icicle Buttress, but it ended up to be a multipitch trad route. Damn! Ultimately, we landed at some other place with one sport route and what looked like a few topropes. We searched and searched for anchors but within 30 minutes of death-defying searching decided that it was all plug-and-chug territory. What a great time to not have a trad rack!  Just then the thunderstorms burst onto the scene and we called it a day of fun, travel, adventure, spontaneity, and building a great new friendship – and time for home.

We stopped for the traditional Heidleburger on the way out, relaxed in the heat and truly enjoyed each others company. Good times for sure, but also time to get on the road despite not getting a good burn in for the day. Ugh!

But wait. this is where the story gets really interesting. We had to go back by Exit 38 to get back home…

At Alpental I said “If it looks dry, Im stopping. How do you feel about that girl?”

“Do it, boss”.

It looked dry at Exit 38, so we stopped. The hike to Nevermind Wall was wet, but when we got to Substation I screamed “yeah! Substation’s dry!”, but we kept going to rule out Nevermind. I wanted back on Steep Street.

In the end, I got a repeat lead on Steep Street and Erica made it to the chains on TR. She’ so totally gonna send that route next time! I was excited to have been able to introduce them to each other.

My newest climbing partner, E-dub, taping her poor, abused hands for Steep Street. Such a strong climber!

In the end, today could have turned out to be a boring disaster of a gray and rainy mess of a day. My spontaneity fit well with the desires for adventure of another climber – and luckily we happened to be in the same car. We got to do some great climbing, driving, adventuring and serious bonding in spite of Mother Nature. I believe that Mother set today up for us. Not only do I have a new climbing partner – someone whose hands I’ll freely put my life in – but also a good, honest friend that I hope to get to know better and better as time goes on.

In all honesty, Erica is a stronger climber than me in a lot of ways, and I kind of like that. I’m not intimidated by the fact that she’s younger, has stronger tendons and better endurance. I really like the fact that she likes my method and my madness, and that she can forgive my weakness.

I’ll climb with that girl any day.

Completely.Stellar.Day.

[edit: I was going to edit out some of the - eh hem, language - from this post. I decided against it because it sums up the feeling of desperation and frustration - and ultimately success - of the day. Deal with it, you're a big boy/girl aren't you?]

[second edit: I couldnt stand it, I edited the language]

They say that dreams are the way your subconscious catlogs your memories. Oddly, it’s days like the one’s I’ve been living that catalog and define my dreams. I absolutely love this picture I took Of Micah on the upper ledge while we were watching Mika crush Techno. It’s really a cool photo and approximates the sense brotherhood only found at a crag.

Micah and I on the upper ledge watching Mika work Technoriginie

Yesterday morning saw me waking up on my mom’s couch having gotten little meaningful sleep. I’d been hydrating like mad the day before and doing lots of farm work for mom so she could punch a new driveway into her property. I knew I was going to have to take good care of my abused hands, so I tried to take it easy. Instead I gave myself two terribly painful and very deep blisters in the meat of the distal ends of my right middle and ring fingers. My power fingers. Damn.

After rising Sunday, I drank a bunch of coffee and lazily, or should I say groggily (add that to Webster’s why doncha) wandered around with mom observing the fabulous progress of her gardens. Mom and her friend could tell, I think, that I was lacking enthusiasm for what was coming, I was moping – I was a ton of bricks. What they didn’t know is that I was focusing and I was intimidated, apprehensive and frightened. I continued to focus on three things: have fun, be humble, try my hardest.

I’d talked to Micah the day before and he mentioned that he was bringing a friend of his, Nick, climbing with us. Now I wasn’t just mentally flailing from the imposition of steeper-than-Lay-Z-Boy pitches, but I was going to have to go [have fun, be humble and try my hardest] with some stranger who had the potential to end up being a world-class dick. Knowing Micah, the chances of Nick being an elitist sprayer were almost certainly zero, but my tendency towards moderate social anxiety sometimes gets the best of me.

[have fun, be humble, try your hardest]

Micah and Nick showed up to get me, Nick immediately jumped out of the front seat, opened the back door, introduced himself and shook my hand. Obviously this was not only a world-class climber, but a world-class human being as well. The drive to Little Si went great as Nick and I got to know each other. I was impressed at the level of constant conversation and the effort Nick took to include me in it. Still, my mind was still caught on the fear of the upcoming task. The tinge of excitement that I missed so much was there, but it had been so long since I’d been on a rope – this time with untested gear, an unfamiliar crag with unfamiliar people – the anxiety was killing me.

[have fun, be humble, try your hardest]

I felt a little better at the trailhead, mainly because of Nick and Micah’s supportive and spiritual nature – and that we were finally here. No going back now. No balking once the rope is tied. No failing. Being able to relax helped me focus more on my climbing: the fluid movement, straight arms, trusting my gear, trusting my belayer and shit – just breathing! The hike was fun and when we got to World Wall One I could hear it. It was like a time warp! I could hear the constant broken conversations coming from about 50 feet above me at the ledge, and then reports from hundreds of feet above me on the wall. That coupled with the constant, metallic “tink-tink-tink” of dozens of ‘biner gates took me back to when I used to do this crazy, insane and incredibly addictive sport. More anxiety!

[have fun, be humble, try your hardest]

We got to the ledge and the place was packed with every species of climber from Microsoft execs from Austria to 15 year old dirtbags projecting a new 13a. They were everywhere. More [social] anxiety!

[have fun, be... time to climb. Step up Dasso, you wimp]

Micah and Nic immediately began to giggle like girls, unloaded gear, unwrapped rope, counted out enough draws for Rainy Day Woman and I drank some water. I wanted beta. I hadn’t done this since before the Grigri was invented, and I wanted to see how it was used (cue old man voice yelling at the children). Within minutes they’d both burned Rainy Day Woman and it was suddenly my turn. Most people had left this area, so I felt comfortable getting up on a 5.9 for my first pitch in 12 years. I dug my clippers out of my pack, clipped the blisters on my fingers and taped the little proto-flappers down. Focused, I concentrated on my movement, resting and purpose. Micah gave me the beta, showed me the chains, but I was balking. “Meh, show me again Micah. Where does the route go”? I was tied in already – commitment.

Nick on Psychopsomatic 5.12d

Micah simply crushing the hell out of the rock...

[have fun, be humble, shit your pants]

It was decision time. I stepped up, pulled on to the first jug and a wave of familiarity came over me. A feeling unlike anything you’ll ever feel, it was simultaneously a feeling of calm comfort, stress, excitement, terror, glee and love. I totally love this feeling of problem solving, route finding and ultimately beating the ever-living-shit out of that dirty little bitch in the back of your head that keeps telling you that a television is what you should be in front of rather than hundreds of feet of eocene-epoch Andesite. “Yeah, Greg. Come on”! from below. Friends…

Me cruising past the crux on BLM5 (5.10c)

[have fun]. Check! One down.

Micah and Nic did a great job of motivating me to the chains as I got pumped quick and probably would have bailed if not for them. I summarily repeated my mental promise to myself on another 9 called Reptiles and Amphetamines, which was a super cool juggy crack with a smeary slab top-out. I was getting psyched to do more, my confidence super-high (pulse even higher!) and really excited to be there with two of the best people on the planet. I also wanted them to get in some of their own projects so I laid low for a couple of hours and motivated while they worked on Psycho, Californicator, Chronic and the like, all 12’s.

Getting to the Chains. Yessss!

[be humble]. Check. Two down.

Next it was time for Greg to get some more pitches in, said Micah and Nick, and I was excited for it. Micah suggested another 9, but I was feeling a little bit like something harder was in order. We walked teetered up the super-exposed belay ledge and it’s consequential death-fall upon slippage to the Micro World wall where we decided to try BLM5, 5.10c. Micah lead the pitch. I stepped up, pulled on and – according to Micah – smoked the crux, which I thought was the easy part. It must be all the bouldering I’ve been doing. I really like big, powerful, dynamic movement. This pitch was a grade and a half harder than the last two and twice as tall. I pumped out near the top, but they wouldn’t let me down. Thanks, guys!It really was a super classic climb; steep and powerful low with some crimps on a slab, underclings, sidepulls and difficult routefinding.

[try your hardest]. Check. Trifecta!

We climbed until after 9pm, Summer is beautiful! Hiking out in twilight with a warm-ish breeze through the forest with terrific friends was payment enough, but to have accomplished so much that day tops the cake. I don’t think I’ve ever had a better day!

One of the observations I made about my own progress is that I only had anxiety on the ground. On the rock I was just as solid mentally as the rock, I know my technique is good enough to not get spanked by a 10c, and that I can pull moves much, much harder that those. As a boulderer, though, I do need to work on my endurance a lot. I never balked once I was up – I’m really, really comfortable with the heights, it was my physical strength that I need to work on.

On the drive home conversation was lively, full of laughter and at the same time replete with depth commensurate with the depth of the people I was talking to. Somewhere in the conversation, I could read tacit questions about the meaning of life, which is the root of what we all do. I am humbled and at the same time exhaulted to be in the presence of people like this. Life is priceless some days.

I think the meaning of life is that it should be lived – and lived purely and simply – with exactly those intentions. That ego, pretension and insecurity are distractions from living life fully. I have my struggles and my problems with those things, not because I ate a McCrap burger because I saw Ronald on TV tell me I wanted to, but because I am insecure about a few things. I think life is worth living – and living to the end – is because I’ll always have those insecurities.

Vini Vidi Vici myself.

By the way, the title has to do with Nick’s diet and the resultant gastrointestinal turbulance:

All Hail the Fiber One Bar!!!

Read Micah’s report here and Nicks here eventually…

It’s appearing as though I’m flip-flopping a little in my head. A long time ago I decided that I would never date a woman who climbs on rock. I would certainly date a woman who climbed alpine I guess, but not on rock. I’ll tell you why in a second.

So, this morning on my way to work I was thinking. It was beautiful out and all I could think of was how excited I am to have climbs booked for every stinking weekend through the end of October. Then I though about what I would be doing on such a beautiful sunny day if my last relationship hadn’t ended. I guess I’d get up, make tea and eggs for the two of us. Then probably go for a walk with the dogs, do some gardening, a house project or two, flirt while making lunch, some more gardening and definitely a little afternoon delight. Then flirt while making and eating a fine dinner before going to watch a movie at my sister’s house. Im not saying that I dont like doing any of that at all – quite the contrary! Our time together was nearly always time well spent, but thats all I did. I dont mind domestic, but I do mind too much domestic.

The reason I said I would never date a woman who climbs is because I want it to be my thing. I want it to be my “not domestic” time; my time to do boy things and grunt and sweat and bleed. I want to do other things with my partner, mostly the domestic things.

That’s all fine and makes perfect sense, but considering the fact that I’m so damned happy and excited to be getting out at least a few days per week for – wow, it’ll be seven months in a row – I cant see how that lifestyle would jive with trying to concurrently maintain a more domestic relationship “in town”, as it were. I have a climbing partner who attributes the end of his most recent relationship to exactly this – wanting to climb more than what was tolerable for her. I only see my dirtbagging abilities inflating for the next few years and I know I wont stay single for too much longer.

There are pitfalls to dating a climber, of course. There’s the lack of boy-time I already mentioned, but we dont always have to climb together. Then there’s the angsty and ever-common, ego-driven competition problem, but I dont think I’d have an issue there. What I need least of all is the golfcart type always whining about the danger and lack of skin and all the junk I’ve heard before…

In all honesty, I suppose it really doesnt matter all too much, but if she does climb I know that she can’t be a noob. Noobs I just dont trust. I dont need some unmotivated twit start to climb just for her shiny new boyfriend and who’s just going to end up becoming a Belay Betty because they dont have the interest, fortitude or commitment to get better.

Dunno, it’s not a huge quandary mind you, but I’m just throwing it out there. Comments and thoughts are encouraged.

Adios, I’m going to Little Si now.

[on edit - 20090601] Upon reflection, this subject might be a little sensitive for some readers, so let’s not comment on it. I think I’ve made up my mind already – or let’s just say my mind was made up for me… heh.

I’m back from my latest adventure in the vertical world, well – mostly vertical, some almost vertical, much more overhanging. I have to say that this has shaped up to be my best birthday ever, and best trip ever! Micah and I departed just before noon and reached L-town in record time and having used record little gas. We trucked right on up to Bridge Creek and made camp, stashed our non-essential gear in our tents and immediately hit Mad Meadows with my dad in tow. We met up with a group working Drugstore Cowboy (V3) and I hit the Hueco Route (V1) to warm up. It was around 3 and in the mid-80’s (yikes!). After a few circuits on Hueco, and Micah on Drugstore Cowboy, We decided that it was time for Micah to send his personal project The Sail (V9). After a few goes, Micah decided that The Sail would remain his nemesis for now and we plowed through the cave to The Jib (V8) which he sent after a few attempts. It was good for his confidence on a really hard, technical boulder problem. In the meantime, I flashed The Rudder simply for the card. After all that pump, we crawled out to make our way to Hanta Man (V9), where we decided that is was just too hot to climb (in the 90s). On the way to Hanta Man, I flashed Drugstore Cowboy (yesssss!) Since it was too hot to climb, we headed to Egg Rock to climb some more in the 90s. Great idea, right??

second link on Tentacles (V3)

At Egg Rock, Micah wanted to repeat the wicked Musashi (V9), but no go from the shakey jug rail that was full of chipmunk shit and worse feet. We packed it in for for another spot since it was cooling down, but not before I ticked Tenticles and China Cat. It was getting dark, about 8 – and we still had to go into town for carbohydrates, both solid and liquid, and gather firewood for the yet-to-be-built fire. We called it a day in the climbing world.

Getting ready for the sloper on Spongebob V3

Camp was magical. We scrounged ten times more firewood than we needed, so we had an excuse to stay up late, enjoy the stars, the raging Icicle River and the warm fire (and a few more beers). Micah undressed the gear while I worked on the fire. We drank well and roasted gourmet hotdogs on gourmet willow sticks I’d prepared from gourmet trees just uphill from camp. The rest of the night was terrific – we just sat on our crashpads in front of a raging warm fire under a sea of brilliant stars. Conversation was good and we discussed life, women and most importantly, our goals for the next day.

Gourmet dinner around the fire.

This morning I woke up around 4 as always, unzipped my tent door and snoozed as I watched the sun come up over a gendarm of snowy Colchuck Peak. I’d had really odd dreams of my most recent significant female partner, indicating that I’m at an important transition point in my process. About 6, I got out of the tent and ate the last hotdog cold and went for a walk around the river. Just as I was getting back, one of the climber chicks (a tall, lean and very naturally blond climber chick) was depositing the remnants of her evening in the form of an empty half-case into the dumpster when she dropped the lid with a clank! I felt obligated at that point to wake up Micah (since it wasn’t going to be my fault he was now awake) and get on the road for Forestland. With Micah up, we stoked the fire and started roasting some english muffins on the gourmet sticks to receive copious quantities of ham and turkey. Not exactly gourmet, but breakfast non the less.

My view upon waking. The flash made it look like it's really bright out.

In Forestland we realized that we were in worse shape than we’d thought. We’d done a whole day’s worth of climbing in just a few hours the day before and only this morning did we realize that neither of us had much skin left on their fingers or strength in our arms. We warmed up on Breadline a few times and sat down shaking our heads. “WTF” was most commonly uttered. I stood up to Arrested Development (V4) with it’s wicked pinch start and nasty crimprail. It was here that I learned that the louder you scream the easier it is to climb through the pain. After about a dozen attempts I realized it just wasn’t going to happen today and I’d hit it fresh next time. Micah and I set out to JY boulders next, with my dad who’d found us in Forestland.

At JY boulders, things didn’t go much better, but I did redpoint  Gratisfaction (I call it a flash because my foot slipped before I’d even pulled on…) and Micah played on a few V-fuckmethisishard stuff. Nothing else was sent at JY.

Dad left and Micah and I packed up our camp, loaded up and decided to call it a trip. Our skin gone, arms raw, fingers on FIRE, strength zapped and confidence depleted (and blood everywhere), it was time to go home. On the way, we decided that since it was 11am and already in the 90s, we’d head over to my dad’s and swim in his pool. Dad was happy to see us and we spent a couple of hours getting wet and recovering. At around 2 we dried off and decided to go… wait for it…wait…  …. … …  ..  ..  . . .

….

….go do some more climbing. Gee, what a great idea!

Mountain Home Boulders were the last place we really wanted to stop and get some time at. We drove up Mountain Home Road past Mountain Home Lodge (which, now that I think if it, was one of the possible wedding sites four months from now, but I didn’t even think about it again until this writing) into some of the most magical forest full of massive, gray-and-white sleeping giant boulders – my new bullet-hard friends!

Nice Men (V2)

Stopping by Star Wars Rock and feeling rejuvenated from the swim, I tried what is supposed to be a V3 but it is not. We’d heard that Mountain Home crags are graded a little differently than the rest because of the lack in traffic, and were they right! All I have to say is holy shit! Micah tried Darth Maul (V4) that was scary as hell, a crimpy traverse on no feet with an inverted dyno to a blind flake about 4 feet behind you and 4 feet up. I’d call it Darth Maul (V4^2). We trekked down to The Pasture and played on The Cattleguard and The Cow, where I flashed Cud Crack and redpointed Cattle Terrace and Micah worked on The Cattleguard Arete. Unfortunately, no luck on the arete, we were decimated and destroyed from all the hard climbing we’d done the last two days. It was time to go home.

Micah topping out BSE (V3)

On the way down, we kept spotting huge house-sized blocks that looked interesting with great features and potential problems. We spotted the Canal Boulder, a massive monolith jutting out of the ground to about 25 feet – it’s got a classic line up one arete called Quest for Fire that hopefully Im strong enough to work on if we get back up this fall.

Before heading off, we stopped in L-town for the requisite Heidleburger (like grease?) and then adios Leavenworth! On the way back we decided that we weren’t coming back to Icicle until fall and until then Micah was going to focus on sport climbing. Next weekend I have the opportunity to do some sport at Little Si. I hope there is room for me because I really want to get back up on a rope.

So, the ticklist for this trip:

20090517

1. Hueco Route (V2)
2. The Rudder (V1)
3. Drugstore Cowboy (V3)
4. Tentacles (V3)
5. China Cat (V2)

20090518

1. Gratisfaction (V1)
2. Cud Crack (V1)
3. Cattle Terrace (V3)

A great trip and a fun tick count! And it seems that somewhere I lost a send. I remember ticking something that I’ve forgotten…oh well.

I think, in reflection, that this trip signals the most significant transitional step in my current life. It really doesn’t have anything to do with climbing as a whole, though climbing has been and is again a large part of what defines me. The transition really is about me being comfortable in my own skin again. In addition is the idea that I can compete with some of the best climbers in the state, some of whom are my closest friends, or soon to become so. I shouldn’t say compete in the sense that there’s competition between climbers, but rather the inner competition with your physical and mental abilities and limitations . Climbers don’t compete against each other, they compete with themselves and their self-imposed limitations with respect to their physical and mental perceptions of their abilities. In this sense, I’ve found that I can face my fears, weakness and limits with the best of them – and I guess that’s what it’s going to take for me to get stronger and develop better technique, along with simply watching and learning from the guys who blow me away problem after problem. Humble is good in this sport and something everyone, especially myself, should practice.  One thing I did notice is how I can be a part of another climber’s development, even someone like Micah who is so much stronger than me. So, I walk away from this trip with expanded confidence, comfort, solace and peace; even on top of bleeding hands, skinless forearms and cramping hamstrings. Life is good – I am the master of my own world.

Climbing has always given, and certainly is giving me now, the ability to redevelop the identity that was stripped from me over the last 11 years or so. It is becoming the most important facet of my personal recovery, growth and current lifestyle - life is again something to look forward to.

Icicle Valley and Drangontail Peak from Mad Meadows.

Now, Im going home to pass out from exhaustion and to bandage my poor little abused fingers. Read more about this trip on Micah’s blog, No Skin Left. Thanks, Micah, for the pictures.

First of the year ticked off the list successfully today. Some friends and I climbed up Ellinor and scoped out the traverse to Washington. We took the lower trail and proceeded via the winter route through a shooting gallery of snow and ice zipping by us at light speed down the infamous chute (the one where so many people break legs).

Heading up the approach trail.

It was a good day, good sun, good company, good exercize good summit and good views.  From the top of the second step of the lower chute, everything was looking really peachy, now that we had the gnarley ascent of the gallery out of the way. Reminder to Ted: dont look down!

Ted tops out the chute. It's really rather steep and endless and can be frightening if you havent spent a lot of time in places like this.

From here, it’s really just a short slog up to the summit where we sat for a few hours and had a celebratory PBR. We expected to see loads of people, but we only encountered about 40 or so. We shared the summit with around 8, which is good because there is only room to about 7. I was amazed at how many people really loaded up with helmets and other “gear” for such a non-technical and short route. Oh well, I guess they’ll be in better shape.

Chillin' on top with a PBR.

So, Ellinor is by no means anything hard. If you havent done much activity lately, then you might not have a fun time, but if you’re relatively active and can stick with something, it’s pretty easy. It’s a terrific warm-up for the season, but this one’s in the bag for the year!

After we downclimbed and glissaded our way out, we stopped by Lake Cushman and sat on the shore for a while finishing our lunches and simply enjoying such a wonderful day. I got loads of great sun (D’oh! a little burn!) and feel great. I’m going to sleep well tonight.

We made plans to make the trip to Leavenworth and I would meet Micah, Dom and Laura up there. The weather said all week that there was a 20% chance of rain, but up the Icicle sometimes things can be a little different. I left dads around 10 since they were leaving Oly at 8:30, which gave us a meet-up time of around noon. I stopped a few times and walked aorund some places trying to find myself, but only little bits came. I was moseying my way up the old road looking for Micah’s Subaru, but I figured that I’d find them at 8 mile camp setting up for the night. On my way up, I see a black Subaru with three crash pads randomly strapped to the top barreling down the road towards me – and then flying right by me. A quick U-turn found me doing 60 in a 35 catching up with wild Micah, but I couldn’t reach him until we turned into the road that leads to Forestland. They were surprised and glad to see me. Dom and Laura didn’t even recognize me without the 50 pounds I’ve lost in the last two years that they’ve been climbing around the world (see here).

After we all realized who we all were, Dom and Laura ran down to the lower crags to say hi to their friend while Micah and I chatted about life, love and the real important things – climbing. Dom and Laura got back and we trucked it up the trail to Forestland to hit the warm-ups. it was 65 degrees and overcast, the perfect conditions. We warmed up on a V.2 that I used to play on, and then hit Arrested Development (V3) that Dom and Micah ticked right away.

Dom crouching for the dyno on Redline V.3

After I was spent from Arrested Development The guys moved on to The Shield V.7 that Dom ticked right away. Micah proceeded to summarily execute the problem too, but since it’s a little above my strength level right now, I just tried to set the links and get the sequence down for next time. We spent about another hour on Coffee Cup and Broken (which Dom sent straight away) before heading to Upper Forestland.

Micah Pinching the hell out of the Shield V.7 right before the big slap and the send.

Up at the Upper Forestland, Laura and I found some fun stuff that was a little easier which we could all be challenged on. I flashed Sunny and Steep V.3 which got me some applause and a good feeling all over (and is already on my scorecard). Just about then, the rain started to our chagrin. We waited a while, the rain stopped, the rocks dried and the four of us went on finding projects to play on. Micah and Dom kept pushing me to link or start some of the really hard problems and that was a good thing. At that point it started to pour and we high-tailed it back. Those three were going to stay the night and hit the ropes tomorrow, but they booked it back to Oly for beers and pizza, I went to dads for spaghetti dinner.

It was nice to get out today with my good old friends who are always supportive no matter what. It doesn’t matter how good you are or how much you stink, climbers all always yelling at you: Yeah! Common! You got it! Stick it! You own this! It’s always good to get out with honest people doing honest play. The big lesson for today is that my attitude needed adjusted, not for any of you, but for me. I’ll have more fun, more honestly if I just go do my best and humble myself to the guys who’re stronger than me and have better technique. Today I went into the climb with the attitude that I was going to try my hardest, never give up no matter how much skin was gone and to just have fun. Thanks to that, I found a whole lot more of me than walking around Leavenworth. I know who my real friends are.

Nearing the end of this Friday it was looking as though my plans were becoming as bleak and dismal as the potential for grass to grow well on icepack, but things change, dont they?

Out of the blue I have plans to visit a girl I met in Wenatchee on Sunday and stay with my dad for the night, then meet up with Micah, Dom and the guys to climb Leavenworth all day Monday. Saturday my good friend Charlie and I are going to hang out and talk about science and Matterhorn attempts, after which I’m going to hang out with another friend and perhaps go for a walk or something else exciting and fun.

It’s turning out that all is well in the world and right in my life. Here’s for other people’s karma treating them exactly the way it should – and I honestly hope it’s for the best.

I hope you all are blessed.

It’s been a great day today! So far, one brick has been removed from the heap of troubles on my back, and possibly even two by this time next week. Just returned from a budget meeting with my division, the deans and administration. You all know that the State has a $9Bil shortfall this year and that means budget cuts. In the beginning it looked as though my pinkslip delivery was inevitable. For the last month, it appeared as though my division would all take permanent reductions in contract and we’d be forced to take an additional month off work, which for me would equal two months off. That equates to 60 days of road construction – something I really don’t want to do anymore.

Luckily for me and my division, the Legislature agreed that postsecondary science and engineering education was of the highest priority and the college agreed that laboratory instruction was crucial. This equates to the fabulous news that not only is my job locked-in-stone secure, but also that we take no cuts whatsoever! That means that I’m only required to take my contractual furlough for 30 days, but if I sell my house before then Im not going to work roads at all; I’m going to take some Greg time!

As for that second brick, it has to do with the house. Last week an agent representing some folks from California stopped by my house to preview it. She said they loved the listing and it appeared perfect for them. Today, one of the interested buyer’s sisters was showed the house and evidently the folks will be flying up here this weekend to view it themselves. To me this indicates that they are interested! *sighs*

Now, not only are today’s events representative of the certainty of one brick being removed and the potential for the second to be removed, but the possibility that if both are taken off my shoulders the third and last brick will go away too. I mean, If the house sells it means that I’m free of Kalie for good (the third brick).

After that, there’s no stopping me. The only things left on my shoulders are tiny little pebbles, simply concrete dust to wash off in time.

It’s been a great day.