When I was a kid, my mother would partake of an activity but once, and declare it a tradition. "Mom... duh. You can't just start a tradition by doing something once, and just calling it that... you have to do it over and over again... And THEN you can call it a tradition." I had always believed that a tradition must be a recurring event that endured many years of conflicting schedules, waxing and waning interest, childbirth, boxed holiday decorations, etc., etc... It was under this presumption I would live until October 19, 2007.
Above Photo: Zac Robinson greases up Layaway Plan (5.11 D), Copyright 2007, Andrew Burr Photography, LLC
IT WAS ON THIS WEEKEND that Zac Robinson declared an impromptu, self-thrown, weekend-long birthday party would be held at Indian Creek. "Costume Weekend" was appropriately named, and featured round-the-clock "festive attire". Enjoyed by close friends and curious strangers, its days were filled with climbing -its nights with campfires. Post-work urbanites arrived in the dark,
tidy costumes in tow. Desert rat locals emerged from the backs of their topper-topped, 1990s Japanese pickups. From the depths of their musty nests, they pulled out what turned out to be some of the event's best costumes. The Band also arrived, (a bit late and) proudly self-announced. But despite chilly evening conditions, they selflessly performed with minimal clothing. As the weekend rolled on, each evening proved more powerful than the last and the lifeblood flowed strong.Above: The Band, in costume as Coloradans.
THIS WAS THE WEEKEND that would found a proper tradition before it was out. Over the course of
just three days and three nights, a magical blend of insanity was achieved. An organic critical mass of motliness -of relaxed morals and manners- that effortlessly transcended the threshold of normalcy in the way only the best such events (also called "parties") can.Ogden M-, season-long Cottonwoods resident, doesn't screw around. But when he does, he does it in a gorilla suit. At least: that's how he did it in '07.
Despite the evenings' rigor, daytime saw wild successes, made possible only by a stream of heroic feats. 1980's mini skirts, children's superhero costumes, and vinyl S & M suits were
donned in the name of ascending difficult routes (gut-wrenching off-widths notwithstanding). Was the event obnoxious? Probably. But you can't really get too mad about a dude cruising a 5.11 puke-'n'-bleed-wide crack in a spring-green women's pantsuit and Miami Vice-esque wig. Or a guy dressed as another guy dressed as Magnum, P. I. AND SO, before the sun set on that fateful Costume Weekend, a tradition was born. The weekend was optimistically renamed "First Annual Costume Weekend", and it would be against the will and efforts of many loyalists that the title would be incorrect.
Can you tell which is the guy dressed as Magnum, P.I., and which is the guy dressed as the guy dressed as Magnum, P.I.?
Zac Robinson getting his tramp stamp. Why? We don't know, but it seemed festive at the time.
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