40 Pitches in One January Day at... Indian Creek?

Yes. Indian Creek.

My friend Patrick Purcell, prolific first ascentionist and machine extraordinaire, celebrated his 50th birthday on January 30th, 2009.

My friend, Zac, and I headed down to help him put ropes up on as many routes as possible; his goal was to climb 50 pitches in a single day. Being an alpine ski racing coach in the midst of an intense season, and laden with laryngitis and a sinus infection, Patrick had two strikes against him in his pursuit of an already lofty goal... add to that the scanty daylight hours afforded by this deep-winter month.

The morning of the big day, we left our frigid Bridger Jacks campsite and forded the stream en route to Donnelly Canyon/ Supercrack Buttress. Waking up, we knew it was cold outside, and our thoughts were confirmed when, upon stream-crossing, we broke through ice so thick that it punctured a hole in the front bumper of my car and ripped off two mudflaps and other side panel pieces.

Nonetheless, we forged on, took pictures, and laughed at my poor car. We parked and hiked up to the crag wearing so many layers, our limbs could hardly bend. Yet, the sun came up and we relished in a beautiful day of climbing in full sunlight. Some of the belays, even, were done in t-shirts. Occasionally, a breeze would remind us that, in fact, it was January- but otherwise it was a sunbowl of a day.

Nine pitches completely wore me out- my mind, my muscles, and of course, my skin- which hadn't properly crack climbed since November.

But Patrick was an absolute machine. As I said, I hadn't climbed cracks since November-- yet Patrick, who couldn't remember the last time he had touched a crack (likely years and years earlier), cranked out pitch after pitch... after pitch, after pitch. Though he did not reach his goal, he absolutely tore down 40 pitches- cranked them out in style, and was in fine spirits after the sun went down on that short winter day.

Tomorrow Zac and I hope to top on the Corner Route (Cirque of the Climbables, Kane River Road, Moab). We'll see how that goes...

España

JET LAG
aka
No hablo español
aka
No "habla" español: Aero Puerto!?

I LEFT SLC ON THE MORNING OF DECEMBER 17, slightly later than planned (for my first time ever, missing a plane by over-sleeping), and returned January 5th, nearly missing yet another flight on the way back...

Travel was fairly uneventful, except for the last flight. This featured delays, turbulence, a really obese and uncomfortable pregnant woman next to me (and halfway into my seat), and a missing piece of luggage in the wee hours of the morning. Finally, as I discovered upon my return to the states, my cell phone finally died, no longer "turning on"... which added to the challenge of navigating the airport pickup, lost baggage, etc...

Regardless, Spain was great fun. We climbed almost exclusively at El Chorro, in the Malaga area of Andalucia.

The trip was a bit taxing, as Spain pretty much is defined by chaos. Cooking, showering, accessing electricity and/or internet-- these things were all rather epic tasks. Add to that rain, a leaky tent, and mildew. We ended up staying at a climber's hostel called the Finca la Campana for the last portion of the trip- but, as it was the holiday season, these basic amenities were almost never available without a long wait and compromised sanitation. Though this sounds like a list of complaints- these types of inconveniences seem to always be exactly what turn a normal trip into a good trip.

The team (aka "Family") was an American/Swedish powerhouse of sweetness that suffered a series of entertaining incidents.

Firstly, the luggage belonging to two members of the family was lost for several days. There was also a trip to the hospital after a friend fell from a poorly-bolted/ chossy warm-up route. Jon managed to burn a gaping hole straight into his fancy backpack whilst trying to make coffee. The day after Christmas was spent trying to extract the family car from the Spanish countryside after we ripped a hole in its oil pan... way out in the sticks and quite removed from even the smallest villages- impossible to access with any kind of reasonable tow truck...

But all of these problems were resolved without any major hassle. The head was resealed with a porcupine of sutures at a hospital in Malaga; the oil pan was repaired with some trusty Spanish epoxy. The luggage was delivered after several days of dirty underwear, and Jon came to appreciate the new hole in his backpack for its access convenience.

All told, the trip was quite awesome. Jon, an acquaintance from SLC, booked a ticket to join me at the LAST minute- and we were lucky enough to have the same flights all the way to Spain. Though we didn't know each other beforehand very well, we got along awesomely and I look forward to friendship with him at home in Utah.

He and I met two Swedes on the first day climbing, and we fell into a group together, the aforementioned "Family". Though the nuclear family consisted of five people, we also took on two "foster children" and a bunch of cousins (also all Swedish) as the trip progressed.

The weather actually pretty rainy and cold (woah- Spain has winter, too!), particularly in the second 2/3 of the trip- needless to say, too many days were spent at Poema da Roca (the go-to cave crag), and a few other days were spent learning why other caves/ overhanging walls just aren't popular... At the cave in Archidona, we learned that the term "shitty" is not always figurative-- as the floor of this cave was absolutely covered in goat poo, and the walls and holds of the rock itself were plastered with bird droppings.

Bad weather, a few incidents (mentioned above), and a few ill-timed rest days, plus an assortment of "Family"/ Finca illnesses (colds, intestinal issues, colds, and more colds) = not too much climbing at all, but a whole bunch of a lot of fun regardless. We laughed for about 2 weeks straight... and, oh yeah, it was neat to check out Spain for my first time.

So back in SLC, it is a snowy winterland right now. It's a bit of a shock, but I suppose it is January.

Back from Spain

More to come...