By Francisco Tharp, on March 20th, 2010 Reilly Anderson. In his head I'm sure he's singing, "Powder you're all that I want, when I'm skiing down in your arms, I'm finding it hard to believe, we're in heaven."
We’ve got some classic early Colorado spring happening on the Western Slope these days. I spent most of the week hanging out in shorts and T-shirts in Glenwood Springs, but on Wednesday my friend Reilly and I made a 40 minute drive past Redstone, up to McClure Pass and back into the heart of winter. Our reward: face shots, blizzard conditions and a new take on a long-time favorite place.
From McClure pass we toured north on a snow-covered Forest Service road through spacious aspen glens to the top of Huntsman Ridge, which crests a series of east-facing bowls. Last time I’d been to Huntsman, which runs north off of McClure pass, was last October. For six days straight I had slogged up the same road Reilly and I were skiing five months later. And for six days straight I walked back down empty handed, destined for a vegetarian year (for me, the bumper sticker’s true: “Vegetarian” really does mean “poor hunter”).
Huntsman Ridge and the bowls [Read More]
By Justin Harkins, on March 4th, 2010 A.M. top-rope training session on "Genesis I"
If you climb for any reasonable amount of time, you’re bound to build a list of past and present partners with whom you’ve tied in to the rope. These partners will fall somewhere on a friendship plane, and each one you collect can be placed into one of three major categories. For the sake of personal intimacy, I’ve named each of these categories after bands that, for reasons I’ll explain, correspond to the type of climbing partner signified. Feel free to offer your own additional category titles in the comment box.
The REO Speedwagon: This first level of climbing partner is a one-trick pony. This is a partner in the strictest sense of the term – basically a coworker. You’re there to do a job that requires two people, and the REO Speedwagon is there to help you do it. Sure, if pressed, you’d say you like this person just fine, but you wouldn’t consider the REO a friend, really. You’ll look back fondly on your time with REO – some of your best work may have even come on REO days – but if you hear from a friend who’s [Read More]
By Kevin Landolt, on March 3rd, 2010 Oh well, that’s life, and it’s moving along at its usual clip. It turns grey, gets dark and snows. It turns blue, gets warm, and the snow melts in a flash. Jackets to t-shirts in the blink of an eye. At the same time life stands still with the monotony and boredom of routine. To combat the despair of such a synthetic academic existence I meditate often, attempting to shed illusion and to feel present… More often than not though I end up dwelling hopefully on future events that have yet to occur. I plan, I imagine, and I waste my time in the present. I imagine that ocean of colorful rock and that ski across the frozen lake during a blizzard. Like many, I long for an escape back to wilderness. A yurt with a little woodstove, a dog for companionship, a pair of skis for transport, a rifle to hunt with, a stockpile of tequila, limes, coffee, and a shelf full of good books. Simple enough. [Read More]
By Justin Harkins, on February 28th, 2010 Oh, joy of joys! Oh, magical marvel of marvels! What fortune has entered my life! What life has replaced that which I thought to be life before…
My new crampons got here last week, and they sure are pretty rad.
The rope goes on forever, and the party never ends.
Some of you may remember that I left a pair on the painful descent from the Sphinx at the beginning of the season. All things considered, it wasn’t a huge loss; they were broken, anyway – functional yet frustrating – and I was forced from then on to climb in my mountaineering crampons which, in turn, forced me to focus more intently on my footwork. Without a doubt, this has made me a better climber, and I’m grateful for the improvement. Still, it was only a matter of time before my capacity to appreciate the extra challenge gave way to lust, and I made sure to point out the newest, shiniest, baddest vertical ice ‘pons on the market when Michelle inquired about potential Christmas gifts. I think she was a little frightened when I hugged the spiky steel plates like a teddy [Read More]
By Francisco Tharp, on February 27th, 2010 Julia Morton, Warrior Princess. Indian Creek, UT
I was cross country skiing out of Crested Butte the other day when my 30-year-old 3-pin binding pulled out of my 30-year-old Nordic skis. As I fumbled with frozen hands to free my boot from the binding, a comforting thought occurred to me: It’s almost climbing season! And the joy of that helped as I post-hole glided home.
The next day, as if on cue, I got an invite to Red Rock, Nevada, land of sport cragging and 10-pitch moderates. “Rock climbing? March? Oh, yeah, Climbing sounds great,” I said loud, slow and obvious, hoping my Nordic skis – which were in timeout in the corner – would overhear. Now, after the initial jubilation has worn off, I’m bracing for a super sore reentry. The closest thing to training I’ve done this winter is pull ups on the rafters of the bus-stop awning to keep warm while waiting for the free town bus. Crested Butte doesn’t have a climbing gym, I’m not much of an ice climber, and my fattening tele thighs are going to be like kicking, wiggling anchors in the air.
But there’s hope: The Rock Warrior’s Way, a [Read More]
By Justin Harkins, on February 18th, 2010 Joshua Tree sunset — have to see it to believe it.
In the comment section for my last post, Kevin called me out on my end-of-the-season lamentation. He’s absolutely right, of course; I’m thrilled about the prospect of warm Red Rocks weather and sun-baked crag sessions. This winter has been great – exactly what I was after – and I’m excited to maximize my ice time over the next several weeks; but I sure am looking forward to feeling real rock again and working on my tan. As I’ve written before, there’s always another adventure on the horizon and always more being added to the queue.
You’ll hear people dismiss this desire for new places and new experiences. “Well, the grass is always greener…” they’ll wryly offer, as if that somehow diminishes the possibility that the grass may very well be greener. Of course, relative greenness is rarely the point, anyway. There’s a vital distinction between the quest for something better and the quest for something different. When I leave the stark, snowy beauty of the Bozeman winter, I won’t be in search of a place I prefer; rather, I’ll be in search of yet another example of [Read More]
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