Gravity Sucks !!!

Warning !!! This posting contains graphic nature and a scratch and sniff photo to the left. Mmmm hmmm....try it...I dare you! It was also written in a Lortab induced stuper. Nothing is more graphic than the obscenities that were emitted from my mouth as I hit the ground yesterday. I was about 15 feet up on a highball boulder problem when gravity grabbed me by my business and gave me a good yank.

Highball !!! The name itself should have given rise to a "heightened" sense of caution, but being the bumbling romantic that I can often be, I saw it as a "challenge"..... a dance with the devil in the pale moonlight. I am prone to such "highball" problems. I tend to walk away from them with a sense of satisfaction and a heightened sense of "being". It is a humbling feeling to know that failure could result in serious bodily injury.

Every now and then, as I fight gravity, gravity wins. This time- gravity kicked my ass. But you know what?! I won't quit. I spent my high school years kick boxing. What did I learn? Was I some bad ass kung fu expert? A brawling, spittin', tactician of an ancient art? Nope - I learned to get my ass kicked. I was pretty good at that. No; I was damn good at that. Obviously I still am. Here I am lying on the couch facing the inevitable. I am looking at surgery and dealing with the most profound pain that my body has ever dealt with. Seriously !!! The pain is UNREAL. The CT scan and Xrays from the ER show that I OBLITERATED my heel. As my typical style would dictate, I didn't just go down, I went down in style. I didn't just fall, I tried to auger my darn foot into the earth. Guess I should have been a farmer. Could have been a professional post hole digger.

I could just throw my hands in the air and scream out loud, but why? I don't need sympathy. I don't thrive on that. That's not how I roll. I just gotta roll with the punches, pick myself up, dust myself off, and get on with livin'. I am thankful to those of you who were there and CARRIED me out. Then drove like a rodeo clown on some serious downers to Mercy Medical Center. I know we will be laughing about this down the road, but for now, I have a fight ahead of me. I am ready though. Don't feel sorry for me, don't send me cards or flowers. Just have a good laugh and drink one for me. Here's to all of you who have tried to make it as a human auger. Don't ever give up and don't let anything fog your focus. Carry on and live the dream. When you feel like you are down and out, and there is no way out...just grab the bird by the gullet and shake things up a bit.

The Gift

I awake to the sound of the river slowly flowing through the canyon below. The current carries with it life. Life flowing, reaching for a distant ocean. I roll over and pull the mummy bag over my head. Hoping for a moments more sleep. My hope fades as my climbing partners awake and slowly, methodically, begin the morning rituals that mark the beginning of another day spent pulling on stone. My body aches and my muscles burn. Slowly I sit up. The crisp morning air saturates my lungs as I yawn. The morning sun isn't yet high enough to lend me its heat. I smile at the new day. I embrace its freshness and acknowledge its gift. I am alive. I have been given another day. A gift that will only last a day, but a day that will live eternally in my soul.

As we all rise and prepare our gear, I find myself noticing the little things. The sound of the logs popping on the fire. The swallows swishing and darting about. The clanging of gear. The subtle crunch of the morning frost as it gives way under my steps. Not much is said. We know what we need to do. We have been here before. Each person seems to operate in unison. Little need for words. While one stokes the fire and starts coffee, another gets water, while yet another begins the task of sorting gear. We are all smiling.....enjoying the moments we have. Unsure of how long each of us may have. No one verbalizes that thought but as climbers we know that any day could be our last. We do not have a morbid fascination with life or death. We are all just keenly aware of the existence of both. We know that without one, we cannot experience the other. We are grateful for the gift of life. We intend to use it in a way that gives us the utmost sense of satisfaction.

In what feels like total peace we eat our breakfast and sit in wonder at the world around us. Still not a word has been uttered. We are where we belong. We are what we are and what we choose to be. We are the quintessential team. We communicate without words. We shoulder our packs and head down the trail. As we pass each tower, our gaze is pulled upwards in what feels like reverse gravity. We can't help but look up, our eyes strain as we methodically look for a line up a seemingly blank face. Our boots trod along and our pace slowly increases. Driven by desire we march on until finally we reach the base of the climb. We drop our packs and our eyes meet. All of us....and through the sweat and panting...there are only smiles. No need for words. We are what we are.

Only a Climber knows the feeling

I often hear other climbers say that they are "addicted" to climbing. I have have always kind of wondered what it is like to be a bonafide addict. Like the crack head puffing on the glass dragon. Slowly inhaling the toxic smoke into their lungs. With each beat of their heart, their blood courses through their veins. Loaded with the substance that their body craves. Their mind seeks this substance much like a shark stalks his prey. Silently they acknowledge that there is a need. Slowly they hunt. Seeking the substance that their mind is telling them that they need. The addict swims amongst his peers, all the while seeking. Hunting the one thing that will ease their mind and settle the jitters in their body. Silently they stalk and take the steps to acquire their "fix". Like a shark, the addict is crafty, stealthy, driven, and utterly unswayed from their intended target. Once a shark has tasted blood, there is no other substance that can replace the hunger they feel.

I have never been addicted to crack, weed, alcohol, porn, sex, or anything else for that matter. I thank my dad and the inheritance of his "mellow genes" for that one. I don't know what it is like to NEED something. To physically crave something. Except for climbing! I have tried to find a better way to describe my need for climbing. I just can't explain it to those who don't climb. A fellow climber/addict, however, knows all too well the feeling that I have. Like an addict, my palms get sweaty when I imagine my hands covered in a white powder as I indulge in the crack. One hand jam on top of the other. Each jam sets free a feeling of euphoria that I can't find on the ground. Each movement forward...upward...eases the jitters that I feel inside. Slowly, ever so slowly, I reach a state of awareness that you just can't find without "our" drug. My hair tingles, my breathing becomes amplified. I feel the irregularities under my fingers. The sharp edges threatening to pierce my skin like a needle to the arm. My toes curl in my shoes, searching, feeling, seeking out the most subtle of edges to stand on. My level of awareness has peaked. There isn't a drug on the face of the earth that can give me this sense of peace that I am feeling. As I near the top, I am already thinking of my next fix. As I plug the last few cams, I am in nirvana. Another successful ascent.

I am a junkie. An addicted. Addicted to more than just the aforementioned feelings. I am addicted to the lifestyle. I am addicted to the friendships I have formed throughout the years. The friends whose smiling faces I will see one day when I close my eyes for the last time. These are my fellow junkies. They are the brethren with whom I share this ride. We have shared countless bonfires, many beers, and even more memories. These memories can't be labeled or be affixed with a price tag. Like the the urban junkie, we do what we have to in order to get our fix. We rearrange schedules, delay meetings, skip out on work, make excuses, and basically do what is necessary to duplicate that feeling. For many of us, this will be a journey that will last a lifetime. I won't quit. I don't want to quit. I hope to pass my addiction to my kids, and their kids, and their kids. Like the shark, I will eternally swim the ocean of life....looking for my next fix. To you my friends and fellow addicts, I thank you for taking this ride with me. I see your faces in my minds' eye. I remember the good times and the bad. The trials and tribulations. We have left our blood on the rock. We have shed blood, sweat and tears. We have shared some crack. For your commitment to the cause - I salute you. I wish you the best. I hope you can get down to Durango someday and create more memories. If our roads shall not cross again, I hope you will continue your journey. And don't get help. You don't have a "problem". You have a solution that some search their whole lives for. You know what I am talking about. You are a Climber. Climbing isn't a drug to you...it is a way of life.

Only a climber knows the feeling.......

Sub-Alpine Start

If you climb, you have heard the term (and probably experienced) Alpine Start. For you non-climbers, an Alpine Start is where we get up before the sun comes up in order to get a head start on other groups, to ensure you are on a summit prior to daily storms moving in, or just because you are a complete freak and like getting up before the average human. Yes, I am partial to alpine starts. While climbing in Canada and on Mt. Rainier it was often a necessity. Now don't get me wrong, when you are out on a day climb on some back country ice you had better get up early before the sun makes the ice all the more dangerous. When avalanches are a concern you need to get your rear out of the tent and moving before the sun softens the slabs and the chorus of avalanches starts. Unless you dance to the beat of the avalanche drummer, you need to get up and get moving.

This weekend we took Friday and Monday off. We intended to pack it so full of climbing that we wouldn't' be able to lift our Corona's at the end of the day. Yeah, well at least we thought the plan was good. Instead, we drank so many Corona's (each night) that we could barely get out of bed the next morning and the prospect of the long hike(s) in changed our motivation from 100% to about.... well non existent. The last few nights have entailed a couple of bonfires, a lot of beer, a couple of hilarious stories around the fire, and Doug dancing on a pallet and burning his leg hairs off. But all weekend long (thus far) our plan to get that early morning start, has kind of been...well.. lost. Being the optimists that we are (that would be Cody and I) we decided that we didn't ruin our day. No - we have just created a new catch phrase. A new strategy. It's called the "Sub-Alpine Start". No need to get up early. We are in the middle of our monsoon season here in Durango. Most people (ie: those who don't stay up too late) would think that starting early would be the logical step. Not us! Nooo ! We start late. Sleeping in (which is not normal for our family) give you more energy. Then, when most people are running from the daily storms, we roll in and take over the crag (climbing area for you non-climbers). Everyone is running from the lightning and rain. Not us...nooooo... we are hard core. REAL climbers. We pity those poor souls who are afraid of a little lightning and rain. We are real men (and women). Mountain folk. Lightning is just a small hazard that we face and overcome. We eat lightning for breakfast and piss fire all day. Ok, not really. We got started late all weekend. I blame it on Cody (pictured above). He held me down and forced me to drink Corona's every night this weekend. I think he may have even duct taped a beer bong to my noggen. The evidence lies in the lack of any hair running a loop around my head approximately 4 inches wide. Plus the lack of hair in said region. Hold on I gotta go run and grab another. Then he MADE me sleep in. No really - he forced me. I think he slipped something in my beer. Yup, it's all his fault. But !!! We have coined a new phrase and we may have started a trend that could catch on. Probably not - but wishful thinking. Tomorrow we are getting up early though. For sure !!! We are heading out to Sailing Hawks for a little bouldering. We will (FORE SURE) get an early start tomorrow....... so the next time your buddies try to get you out of bed early...just tell them that you are more apt to the Sub-Alpine starts. Don't be an over achiever.

4 minutes 40 seconds in our little world

Seeing the "Light"

I was a bad kid. Still am. I never listened to my

parents, or any other authority figure for that matter. I typically do things "my" way instead of the "normal" way. When everyone else would go right...I'd go left. If people would go up...yup !!! I'd go down. Guess I never really was a follower. However subtle it may be, I think we all like to go our own way. I think that we all imagine we can buck the system and do things our way. What person doesn't see themselves as the epitome of the loner, rebel, bad ass, we all have looked up to at some point in our lives? Okay, maybe not "looked up to", but we have all imagined ourselves as this no non-sense, thrill seeking, wife beater wearing, tattoo havin', beer guzzlin', brawling, no shit takin', bad ass mo fo'. You know the one! The guy in the wife beater (or whatever you call those things) t-shirt, overly protuberant biceps, and the leathery, tan skin that all the ladies dig. Yeah ! That guy.

I tried to be him. Well, inadvertently anyway. I was never really "tough", but man I could take a good ass whoopin' better than most men twice my size. I like to call it my insatiable desire to win. I guess the one thing that I got out of that was that I am not very good at quitting. Beat me up, beat me down, take my stuff, do whatever....I won't quit. I sure hope that this is one trait that my kids pick up. Well, I just hope they don't have to go through the crap that I did. I hope they have the wherewithal to realize that beating your head into a wall (so to speak) is pretty darn counter productive. Lets just hope they can be tough without having to be a super hero...in a wife beater.

I still let the bad mo fo' out every now and then. Mostly after a few golden kool-aids. These days I try not to pick fights or talk too much smack. Instead, I grow wings and think I can fly, think I can climb things I shouldn't, and generally my man bag tends to drop a little and I think I am pretty invincible. I throw what little caution that I do have to the wind and I even end up a mad streaker on occasion. I am a lot more mellow these days. I am still a bad ass though, at least in my own little mind. I guess I have finally seen the light......at least I drink light now!

Scratchin' the boobs

Today I had one of those moments that all parents dread. My daughter was pretty hot after hiking up to our favorite bouldering area. She was pretty pink in the face when we finally got there. It was a really warm day here in Durango. I think it might have reached ninety degrees. Yeah, that's hot here in Durango. So we got there and we all laid around for a good half hour before we even put on our shoes. Kealey was noticeably hot and drained. So....she says "daddy can I take my shirt off?" WOW !!! How do you tell a little 6 year old girl that it isn't kosher for little girls to climb with their shirts off? I just told her exactly that. So she one ups me and says "well Kai does it." Her mom explains to her that little girls shouldn't climb without their tops because that have boobies. So she says "boys have boobies too." Yup, she had us on this one. Then she goes on to make sure we know that there is no one else around but us. So we decide that it is probably more harmful for her to leave her shirt on.

Then the she starts to climb. She tops out on "her" little boulder problem and proceeds to stand on the top an beat her chest. She flexed a little and bowed her chest out. That was pretty funny. Then on the next climb, she proceeds to top out and say to me "daddy, I'm glad I didn't scratch up my boobs." Needless to say, I was utterly speechless. I will not forget that statement for the rest of my days. Sometimes being a parent is just priceless. You just can't explain to your "non-parent" friends, the joy and laughter your kids can bring you. They can make you forget all your worries and anxieties in a heartbeat. I know that they can break your heart just as fast, but I am too busy laughing and enjoying my kids to worry about that.

Hero

Some people idolize professional athletes. Some people idolize public servants. I find myself looking up to my kids more often these days. Their lives have changed dramatically since moving to Durango. They seem to just be more in tune to the simple things in their lives. Not only are they still young, but living in such a small "mountain" town has given them the opportunity to just sit back and enjoy the things in life that most of us tend to think of as "just things". "Things" like the wind blowing across the tops of pine trees. "Things" like the sound or the rive in our back yard. "Things" that some people see as noise, tend to be music to their little ears.

Bouldering in a little forest area called Sailing Hawks the other day, I realized that my son has "reconnected" to climbing. When my shoulder was trashed, all of us suffered in ways that I didn't realize. We all climbed a lot less. This doesn't seem like a big deal to most, but to a family that has made climbing a way of life, it is like stopping time. To a little guy that started climbing when he was two, it seems like his entire life has changed.

My kids, and my wife, have responded to the fact that I can climb more often by embracing the opportunity and loving every minute of it. Yesterday I watched my son go for a highball (pretty high off the ground with no rope) boulder problem. Of course he had lots of pads under him, and about 3 spotters. He didn't care who was watching, what the climb was rated, or what was going through his mind. He focused, sucked it up, trusted himself, and went for it. He is so young that he doesn't seem to realize the consequences of falling off such a high boulder problem. Most people think this equates to being naive to reality. Not me. I see it as having youth in your favor. You see, Kai doesn't have the fear that most of us have. He wants to do something, he puts his mind to it, and he goes for it. Obstacles???? His mind seems to rationalize obstacles as just another part of the climb that he must overcome. He is focused, determined, and is unwavering in his belief that he can do anything. Maybe it is just me but I know lots of adults that work their whole lives to try and get those core values back into their lives. So for that reason, my son is my hero. I just hope he can hold onto what he has.

Vicariously Stoked

At times in our lives we seem to just operate on cruise control. Our day to day lives tend to get in the way of the perpetual stoke that we all have available. It is a God given right to be psyched about life and the opportunity that we have on this incredible dust ball. I am just as guilty as anyone else when it comes to this lack of focus and/or appreciation to the inner stoke that we all possess. However hard I try, I can't always be perfect and run around bouncing off the walls just because I can. I do try though !!!

Last week we were bouldering at Turtle Lake after work. It was a great day with a group of friends. Like most days, we were all pretty amped just to be out there together. The weather was PHENOMENAL. Overcast, cool, and utterly beautiful. I think there were about 12 of us there. Everyone was pretty focused on what they were doing. I had just done a pretty casual high ball (approx 20') and was just sitting up top enjoying the view of downtown Durango and the stunning view of the La Plata mountains. It wasn't a day that stood out much. Just a great time bouldering, hanging with friends, and just enjoying another day where we all woke up and got to enjoy life. I wasn't exactly sending everything I touched, but my muscles let me know that I was giving it all that I had.

So as the day wore into early evening, my thoughts gradually shifted to the everyday life. Things like, what had to be done when we got home like getting the kids ready for bed, making sure I had clothes for the next day's work, etc, etc. The energy that had built up during our evening bouldering session had taken a temporary hiatus from the forethought of my mind. It was time to gather the kids, the gear, the crash pads, and make the drive home. While that drive is a beautiful journey in itself, I find myself glancing in the rearview hoping that I can hang onto the time we just shared. My wife is usually right next to me, and the slight smile on her face tells me that she feels the energy that I do. I try to hang onto that feeling for as long as I can, but I know that I am not different than any other climber - we constantly chase that energy and those memories. Our lives would be boring if we were "non-climbers".

As we were getting ready to leave, Peg decided to cruise up the little highball. I sat up top and took the photo above. It isn't like her to cut loose and find her "zone". The picture does NOT do the "little problem" justice. It is pretty high and would certainly lead to a fairly significant injury should you fall. The look in her eyes just captured my attention. So I watched. Watched as she scanned the rock, knowing she was without a rope, and staying focused to get the job done. She made the top and down climbed off the back. Then as we were walking back to the group, she said in the most carefree and energy infused tone, "God I love climbing". What more is there to say? She summed up so many feelings in one statement. Vicarously I felt the tingle in her soul. We walked away, cleaned up, and came home. Those words are stuck in my head. Not so much what was said, but how it was said and when it was said.

I know that I can't walk around with my head in the clouds everyday, all day, 24 hours a day, but I sure as hell try. I knew the look in her eye. Her mind was free. Her soul shivered. She felt alive. She makes me feel alive.

Snowden

Short and sweet. That is how some people describe climbing Snowden. While it isn't really a technical climb, or very long, it was still one of the funner hikes/climbs I have done thus far. Doug and I had tried it last year but were turned back by some spotty snow conditions. This time, we encountered little snow (actually just a few patches). The weather was beautiful. We left the parking lot at 10am and reached the toe of the "rock glacier" exactly 30 minutes later. This is the last relatively slight incline just prior to the steep incline up to the saddle. We reached the saddle an hour later, grabbed a quick bite, and headed up the ridge.

We worked our way up the ridge and were on the summit an hour later. While the ridge appears less than exciting, it does provide for a little pucker factor. Of course I had an ulterior motive. I wanted to scope the Naked Lady couloir for an early spring or winter ascent. In doing so, I ended up a little too exposed and the pucker factor was ramped up a bit. The Naked Lady looked great. I didn't stare at her too long..one could go blind. We hit the top, took pictures, noticed the thunder and got our asses out of there. We were back down to the car by 3:30pm. Home in time for dinner and cold beers. Another great day in the mountains.

Ol' Faithful

Ol’ Faithful

I often am called a “gear whore”. Sometimes, when my fellow climbers are feeling a little kinder, they call me a “techno gear weenie”. Lets face it, climbing lends itself well to being such a person. Whether we admit it or not, we all kind of “get into” our gear. We all have our favorite piece of gear, gear company, harness; belay device, etc, etc. Me? Don’t even get me started. I love so many things about climbing and the lifestyle, but I do tend to be a gear critic of sorts. Take for instance that piece of crap harness we have all owned. Many of us would buy it, realize it is a real piece of excrement, and just keep wearing it because we can’t return it. Me !!! I wear it once or twice. Realize it is a real piece, and then I ceremoniously throw the piece of shit to the curb. Not literally of course. I just recycle it. By that I mean throw it in a bag until someone needs a harness to “borrow”. Then I get a good laugh when (usually a guy friend) borrows it and the first time he falls he gets all his glory stuck in a leg loop. Man that is some funny stuff. Watching him squirm on the end of the rope and wriggle about. All the while I am doing my best to hold him while laughing myself into frenzy.
How about that “latest and greatest” piece of trad gear. You know, like the newest and best cam or new age, retro, innovative nut. Yeah that one that is “curved” just right and looks oh so sexy. Then you get up on a hard route that you have been working, grab the “wonder nut” only to find out that the damn thing won’t fit into ANYTHING. What would most people do? Keep trying to place it? Re-rack it? Not me. Throw that damn thing as far as possible and watch all the noob’s go tearing after the free booty. Then you can calmly grab the nut(s) you have relied on for years and watch it slowly, gently, and eloquently slide right into its place. Now that is satisfaction. Ol’ Faithful is always there when I need it. Kind of like your favorite pair of shoes. Maybe not the most fashionable, or the current trend, but damn it, they fit like a glove and you have shared MILES with those babies.
When it comes to brands, we all have our favorite. Personally, I “like” many brands. Petzl just happens to be one brand that has stood the test of time with me. Through my time guiding and years of climbing, I have tried so many of their products. Some (although not many) have seen the glory throw over my shoulder when they haven’t worked. Most have ROCKED though. Take for instance the Reverso. I want to meet the guy who invented that device. Not the only device out there by any stretch, but the one that started it all. When guiding some out of shape, fried chicken eating, neophyte, you have to love the auto locking function of the Reverso. Why didn’t they think of these decades ago? Simple, elegant, stylish, and one of the most practical devices a guide could own. How about the new model??? OOOOOOhhhhhh. If you don’t have it yet – GET IT. Borrow the money, mow the lawn, and sell your old belay devices, whatever. Just get it. It is one sexy mutha humpa. The BMW of belay devices. Sure to set the stage for bigger and better to come. It will certainly raise the bar for those other manufacturers. Oh, and yes I have tried the BD Guide ATC. Man, I am just in love.
I have just found myself turning to these guys again, and again. They always pull through. No matter what, I always go back to them. Kind of like that girlfriend who you swear you aren’t “attached” to. You even go as far as secretly going back to her when no one is looking. Sneaking around, dancing in the shadows, and throwing all egos to the wind. I love you Petzl !! In fact, I love the stuff so much that I named my dog Petzl. He is just like the gear I have come to rely on. Simple, elegant, fun, and reliable. If he could belay, he would be my only climbing partner. If I could wear him on my harness, I would. With pride, I might add. Like a good partner (or piece of gear) he doesn’t complain, drink all my beer, or eat all my food. Well he tries to eat all the food. He just chills and loves life, a good treat, a hike in the hills, and companionship. He does hog the bed, farts when it is not cool, and snores like a freaking freight train. But man he is the best friend a guy could have. One word says it all: faithful. So here is Petzl for your viewing pleasure. Enjoy him, but don’t get too attached.

Shocking !!!

So what do you do after climbing all day? Drink a cold beer first ! Then have another, and another, then one more. Then have one of your climbing buddies see how much juice he can handle. You see, my wife's cousin Courtney was with us and she brought a nifty little device that she obtained through hip surgery. Seems the device was designed to deliver electrical stimulation to the surgery area. This is supposed to help with circulation, censastion...blah..blah...blah. I don't think the designers of the device had our intentions in mind when the developed the device. I just don't think that they had the creative gumption that we do. So enjoy the video....I know we enjoyed making it, although I can't say that Ian did.

Having a blast !!!

This 4th of July weekend we spent climbing and camping with a group of friends. It was by far one of those weekends that we won't soon forget. The weekend was full of good times, good food, and lots of good climbing. Since moving to Durango, I have found myself slowly falling back under the spell of climbing. I never really lost it (by choice) but shoulder surgery put climbing on the back burner for a few years. Moving here also put a damper on my climbing. You would think that moving to a place like this would mean that you would be out climbing all the time. This isn't the case. Making a living in this town is one of the toughest things I have ever done. The cost of living here is through the roof. The price we pay for this little piece of paradise can be astonishing to some, but to us, it is a small price to pay to live in a place where are dreams are right outside our front door. Weekends like this make all the trials and tribulations well worth it. We spent our afternoons in the canyon climbing and our evenings around the fire, laughing, joking, and telling stories that kept us all in stitches. We had two people with us this weekend who had never climbed before. Watching them climb reminded me of what it was like way back when I started. It felt good to see the psyche that they shared after their first climb.

It has felt great to be back on the rock. My newest climbing partner (Doug Wright, pictured above) has truly been a blast to climb with. Doug is the consummate "happy climber". Doug doesn't say much, but he is one of the funnest people that I have climbed with in years. Doug doesn't complain when you are hang doggin' or taking whipper after whipper. He doesn't care much what we climb. He is just happy to climb. He climbs because he loves it. He doesn't boast about climbing or advertise the fact that YES he is a climber and damn proud of it. He just climbs and always has a smile on his face. He doesn't care about ratings or any of the other BS that others tend to obsess about. Doug and I can spend an entire day climbing together and maybe exchange a few sentences, and that is okay. We both share the same vibe as we complete a fun, challenging climb. Sometimes words just aren't necessary.

Having my family there with me this weekend was, as it always is, an absolute treat. They aren't always with me when I climb, so when they are there, it is even more special. I watched my son climb a route that I bolted last fall. The climb was called Finding Forester. A very fun 5.8 that I put up in memory of my good friend Jimmy Forester. Jimmy was killed two years ago while soloing a climb in Mexico. To see my son on the climb was just awesome. To see him climb like he was born into it, is priceless. The kid is a rock star. He started climbing when he was two...the kid has almost as many years under his belt as I do. My little girl didn't climb a whole lot, but she was a trooper too. She has a rock fetish, and not the climbing kind. She likes to collect rocks. She brings them home, names them, and will let you know when you screw up and try to set the rocks free when she isn't looking. My wife got to climb this weekend and that is something that I miss with all of my heart. She has supported me and my climbing life for almost 15 years now. She was there to support me as my shoulder was trashed, and she has always been there for me in every other way. She is, by far, my favorite climbing partner and it was nice to have her there.

Finding our "climbing" life again is something that is truly beyond any description I could come up with. We are a climbing family and it is what brought us to Durango. We love to spend time together and we each love to climb for our own reasons. As long as we find some time to do it together, I think it will have a lasting impression on our kids. We continue to make new friends here and I finally feel like I have a couple of climbing partners that I can truly rely on.

Life is good !