Team Ras Kabeer Triumphs, Again

At first I felt guilty about this weekend. As I cleaned Clif Bar wrappers and loose chalk out of my car on Sunday morning, I realized Saturday was in no way an adventure. On any given Sunday, this would not be a startling realization, but this blog has taken on a life of its own – more of you are linking this page to friends, sending me e-mail, and complimenting the photos and writing – so now I feel an overwhelming obligation to provide you with some titillating story of high adventure: braving bad weather, climbing ropeless, and generally risking life and limb. This is not such a story.

My first inclination was to post nothing at all – a gaping hole in my weekend memoir. But I like to write and you like to read, so something had to be done. And then I considered an outright apology: "I am sorry for being so boring!" This pitiful idea held sway until late Sunday night when Derek and I were eating pizza and drinking beers with Scott, Melissa, and the Little Monster. (Scott and I were doing all the beer drinking, of course.) Libations were poured, and Derek and I got to telling stories of our weekend:

At first, we were hesitant. I mean, what exciting really happened? But as the alcohol got the best of (at least) me, we realized it was a far more meaningful trip to Moore's Wall than we first thought. What unfolded, as we remembered the day's details, was a story of how life must always be lived in the present. How when put in the right perspective, even an unproductive day of climbing means more than a great day in the classroom/office/house/etc…

I won't painfully recount the entire day. Instead, I'll give you a few snapshots – pretty little images to carry you through the long workweek, until you can get out and have a real adventure:

· A 90-degree, cloudless day and we forgot our water at the bottom of the cliff. To intent on climbing, we left it there. Five hours later, we took our first sip of sweet relief. (For me, sweet relief came an hour later in the form of Leinenkugel's Sunset Wheat.)

· Problem: Crowds of painfully slow climbers clog the anchors. Solution: FREE SOLO! Derek and I soloed Sentinel Buttress, a 220-foot 5.5 and Derek's first committing solo.

· On Air Show (5.8+ by Moore's Wall standards, at least .9+ or .10a anywhere else), I was twenty feet above my last protection (a potential 40-foot fall) and staring at an absolutely blank corner with nowhere to place gear. The corner was definitely .10 climbing, my heart was in my throat, and I had to make the decision: find pro or go for it. I went for it… and didn't fall. I hammered to the top and belayed Derek up, who also made it through the crux. Small adventure, big reward.

· Derek led Zoo View (5.7+), a route I balked at the first time I saw it. It took me two more trips to Moore's before I stepped onto its steep face moves. My hat's off to the Ras Kabeer.

· "Watch out for the rattlesnake on the trail," warned a fellow climber, "We saw it on the way up." Joking, I said I'd let Derek lead the way, as he headed down the trail in front of me. As he made a wrong turn, I chided him, "You don't even know where you're going," as I passed him. Derek just laughed, as I walked into his clever trap. Now I was in the lead and looking an awful lot like rattlesnake food.

· Two beers is a party when you haven't drunk water in five hours. With two empty Leinie's in hand (and Derek egging me on), I rocked out to The White Stripes and gave old men dirty looks (they gave me the Stink Eye first) in the Food Lion parking lot.

· More Stink Eye: While wolfing down a burrito at Chipotle – and two more Leinie's – I kept getting an evil glare from a fat guy sitting inside. I think he was just jealous. We were having way more fun. I glared back and shook my head.

· Free solos, scary leads, rattlesnakes, dehydration, drunken and disorderly, and home before eleven. Life really ain't so bad. Until next week, take care.

**Translation: Ras Kabeer is Arabic for "big head" -- the name we affectionately call Derek, and a damn good team name if you ask me.

**The next weeks promise some exciting posts. Two weekends in the New River Gorge, followed by a four-man, marathon day at the 1,300-foot Laurel's Knob. The evidence is in the photos.