Well, Thursday night came and went, and Mark and I didn’t get ready to leave for Shelf. Camping in the desert in winter is fun – but night comes early. You have to bring friends or entertainment with you, or you end up going to bed at 6:30p. And we couldn’t seem to rustle up either one. So, we stayed home, slept in our warm bed, and then waited for the sun to come up on Saturday before heading north to local sport climbing at the Palace.

The sun was bright, and the river was very low. On our crossing, though, the rocks had a thin patina of ice that was sneaky and horrible. I slid down one boulder on my butt and landed, on my back, in the ice cold river!

We hiked up to the sunny side, the Poudre Face, and I started out the morning attempting to lead B.A.H. (5.9). Somewhere around the second bolt, Mark got cold and decided to wander over to get his t-shirt. When I looked down to see my belayer missing, I had a lovely little panic attack. Needless to say, I lowered off and Mark finished the lead. I climbed it twice on TR, hoping the laps would help me gain confidence enough to attempt a pink point, but by the end of the second, my hands were sore, my shoulders exhausted, and I had just found my final excuse for not leading on Saturday.

We both took a lap up Palace Guard (5.10b) while the TR was on it. Another very fun climb.

The sun set early in the evening, and our late arrival did not leave enough time to get much climbing in. On the way back to the car, Mark made it across the rocks without getting wet, and I plowed straight across the river – actually much less painful. Were two climbs worth the cold water, the panic attack, the drive and the hiking? Actually, yes.

So, the blog has been quiet for a while now. Mark and I haven’t been outside much, and I’m focusing on getting this paper submitted at work. Plus, I’m taking a class, Mark’s got a bunch of fun video games, and we’ve been dancing like there’s no tomorrow. Yes, it’s true, our cha-cha-cha kicks butt.

I have some photos laying around that should come up here in the next few days, and we’re heading to Shelf for the weekend. So, hopefully we’ll come back around to the blogosphere soon.

For now, enjoy the weather weenie Quote-Of-The-Day (ala Matt M in my Boundary Layer class):

“So, if convection breaks out over the open ocean, and there are no weather satellites around to see it, does it form hexagons?”

Feel free to mull that bit of metaphysical mystery over. I’ve got a paper to write.

Too much to blog! Not enough time!

Our first weekend back in town surely had to be spent climbing. Doug and Liz called us, and after some debating, we decided to head up to the Ironclads. Then, an hour later, I walked the dog and noticed that the mountains were enshrouded in clouds. So, we all decided to head south to North Table Mountain.

There’s a few pictures in the Gallery. Not many, though. I wasn’t in a very photographic mood, I suppose.

Mark started out the morning leading (according to Doug, because I suck with the guidebook) Chunky Monkey (5.10a) with one of his shoes and one of Doug’s. Mark made the climb look really easy, but the rest of us had a rough time on it.

Doug led up Honey I Shrunk the Hemmorrhoids (5.7) for his warmup. We were all shocked later to find out this was a 5.7. Seems like it had some very hard parts to it. It’s hard to imagine an “outdoor gym” like NTM would have so many sandbags, but if you’re not used to the rock, the routes can seem much harder than their grades.

At the end of the day, Mark hung topropes on an Unnamed 5.9 with a big roof and an Unnamed 5.10 that followed a long, sharp arrete. It was enough climbing to wear us all out, and several good routes. I’m looking forward to the new guidebook coming out, so we can spend more time really exploring the cliffline.

Also, as we moved the ropes over to the two TRs, a fellow and his friend arrived at the base of the cliff and helped us figure out what climbs we were on. We enjoyed hanging out with them as we finished up our routes, and I found out later that this was Curtis of knick-knack.com. It’s fun to meet another climbing photographer/blogger – even if you don’t find out about it until later!

Happy Halloween everybody! Mark and I both completed voting early today, and hopefully this means the political calls will stop, finally. I got to vote in the middle of a huge Halloween bash in Old Town today. Today I learned that the reason nobody trick-or-treats here in Northern Colorado is because the kids all go to Old Town during the day, and get tons of great swag from the restaurants and shops in the square. And then they go vote with their parents! I wonder if Obama picks up more of the witch or pumpkin demographic? I wished I had my camera with me, to get a shot of the costumes people were wearing in the voting booths.

This is a nice little trick from TIME (ala PhotoShop Disasters). I spend a fair amount of time doing photo post-processing, and I am shocked and astounded that TIME would let a mistake like this end up on their cover. It should say a lot about the care with which they prepare each magazine.

Evidently, the #1 thing that could go wrong is that your voting machine might up and float away!

On Friday afternoon, we headed out of Portland and began the 1200 mile trip home.

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Unlike the trip to Bend, this drive was going to be on Interstates the whole way. We camped the first night at a quiet campground covered in dry fallen leaves on the banks of the Columbia river in Boardman, Or. We watched the sunset over the wide, calm river, made dinner on the camp stove and then slept soundly in the cool evening.

The next morning we stopped at the Tamatslikt Cultural Institute on the Umatilla Reservation. We were the first ones in that morning, and had the whole, big building to ourselves. I’ve been to a fair number of Native American museums, but I think this was one of the best. Not only did they cover tradition, and the history of the tribes in the region, but they covered recent events as well. Over half of the museum was dedicated to the time after the first waves of white immigrants entered the area. They talked about the confusion of Christian missionaries, the loss of land and eventually their horses, the forced boarding schools, and then the resurgence of the tribes after the 1960s. They had a great area dedicated to the future of the people, social and cultural projects, and the bright economic future of the tribe.

Later in the afternoon, we had lunch at the Geiser Grand Hotel, once (and possibly still) the finest hotel between Salt Lake and Seattle. It was a focal point for travelers on the Oregon trail and during the western gold rush. It was another, more familiar, view of the same history we had seen earlier in the day. It’s amazing how many different ways there are to tell the same story.

We stayed at a hotel outside of Salt Lake City on Saturday night, and finished the trip home on Sunday. It was another long drive, but full of interesting sites, and a fine way to end a great vacation.

We had one morning to explore Portland before heading back to Colorado. So, of course, we headed to the Japanese Gardens. After a week of traveling, adventures, and family time, it was nice to stop for a few hours, let our minds relax, and simply be.

The morning was chilly and foggy. Portland was so lush and green, it felt like we were walking through a jungle. Only a tiny bit of sun filtered down through the leaves covering the city like a thick green blanket.

The gardens sit on a hill above downtown Portland, and seem to follow a very traditional Japanese motif. There is a sign before the entrance stating that the gardens are meant to be experienced by all of your senses, and indeed, we did.

The quiet sounds of running water and wind in the trees surrounded us. The smell of damp grass and old stone permeated the atmosphere. The taste of cyprus trees and foggy mornings sat on the air. We ran our hands over smooth stone carvings and bamboo stalks. And everywhere we looked there was beauty to behold.

The morning went by too fast. We made our way back to our car, with a quick stop to smell as many roses as we could at the neighboring rose gardens, grabbed lunch at a kabob cart down the hill, and then hit the road, heading east.

Tired of pictures from Oregon yet? Great, me neither!! On Thursday, we took the whole day and drove the scenic route, through the Columbia River Gorge, into Portland.

There’s pictures in the gallery.

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The day was sunny and beautiful, and we got great views of distant volcanoes and mountains before descending into the Columbia River Gorge, which we followed into Portland. We had lunch at a great diner at The Dalles (you have to say the “the”), and then meandered down the river, gawking at kite surfers and windsurfers for about an hour.

Just before Portland, we pulled off the interstate and drove the scenic by-way for a while, stopping to check out a few waterfalls along the way.

We stopped at the classic Multnomah Falls also, which is advertised as being the second tallest year-round waterfall in the US. This fact, I’ve sense learned, is widely disputed. In any case, it’s near 600ft tall cascade through the dense, lush foliage of the Pacific Northwest rainforest was incredibly beautiful. Even the crowds weren’t too bad. Though, Bruce did spend an unfortunate (for him) amount of time bending over his camera in front of mine. :)

We arrived at Mark’s aunt Mary and uncle Bill’s house right on time at 6:30p, had a great taco dinner, and then wandered over to my uncle Jerry and aunt Jean’s house for bed.

My favorite part of climbing has almost always been meeting other climbers. We are a group, a community, and it seems everybody who pursues the sport has an interesting story to share. On our second day of climbing at Smith Rock, we met a fun fellow climber named Menno.

I think I was getting tied in to climb and clean The Outsiders, when Menno, being a very nice helpful person, ran and grabbed my shoes for me. I’ve been climbing in Montrail Zealots for the last year or so, and when he brought them over, he asked how I liked them. I know Mark and I have been climbing a lot of trad in recent years, and these shoes are considered “aggressive” and best for sport or bouldering. But I love them. I buy them a bit too large, and they fit me great. They have flexible soles that work well on slabs, and tiny toes that work great for edging and thin cracks. I expounded on the virtues and wonderfulness of my shoes to Menno as I tied in.

“That’s great,” he said. “I owned the company that made them.”

That’s when I noticed that Menno was wearing a Montrail jacket, a Montrail hat, and Montrail shoes of his own. Menno is Menno van Wyk, the former CEO of Montrail. About a year ago, they sold the company to Columbia, and the climbing shoe line has since been discontinued.

“Oh,” I said. “Wow. So, that’s why I keep getting them on close-out for super cheep.”

He laughed. He told me the person who designed my shoes was from Oregon, and often climbed at Smith Rock. My shoes were designed with technical, edgy, routes like those at Smith Rock specifically in mind. It makes a lot of sense, and made me immensely happy to be climbing in the birthplace of my shoes.

Menno said he had quite a few pairs of shoes left over, and as he headed out for the day, he took Mark’s card, with the casual promise that if he had any more size 5 Zealots’s laying around, he’d get in touch with us and send them my way.

Great guy, that Menno. Too bad my shoes are discontinued.