Sometimes life carries us away. Caught up in the hustle and bustle of daily tasks, we forget to have fun, to explore, to make adventures... And sometimes adventure carries us away, and we fall behind in the daily hustle and bustle, miss appointments, let grades slip. We grow tired, and adventure isn't so fun anymore.
Four months of traveling every weekend -- climbing, camping, drinking, and general craziness -- had me tired, and I elected to take a few weeks off from playing around on cliffs and running to the tops of mountains. It feels good to focus on my Russian studies and work out more regularly. I've settled into a pleasantly boring routine (one that will be broken when the weather cools) and my Russian is quickly improving. My teachers are happy.
But just because my exploits haven't graced the pages of "Down to the Wire," doesn't mean there aren't others doing cool stuff. Below is an excerpt from an e-mail my mom sent me. (Also, I've posted some cool pics that Jane took when we all met up in the New River Gorge two weeks ago.)
Maybe this is where my love of impractical endeavors came from:
Dan and I have been gathering some items for his unfurnished apartment – a used box spring and mattress, used twin bed frame, $5 end table, shelves, etc....we may go hog wild and buy a new computer desk at Staples, but trying to decide the perfect fit since the room is all of 8 x 10!!
Dan and I had quite an adventure yesterday. We decided that the day was too nice to waste on packing, laundry, etc. so we took the canoe and went up to four mile dam and canoed to Sytek Park (Bagley St. Bridge). Since we have a small (real small) motor for the canoe we just took the Xterra and decided that we would paddle downstream then use the motor to go back upstream. Well downstream was great even though the wind was against us - beautiful day. We got to our destination and attached the motor and headed back. The trusty motor started right up, then about one minute later, the handle broke!!! OK, no big deal, the wind is at our backs we will paddle back.....that actually went fine as long as we were in the deep water. Then we hit the rapids which were very shallow about a quarter of a mile from the dam. We were both paddling and going 2 ft. back for every foot forward. So we got out and tried to walk the canoe forward. That was hard because Dan had on Dad's flip flops and it was real rocky. He lost a flip flop then he couldn't walk. He got in the boat and the water was so strong I couldn't pull it. Soooooooo, we went across the river where there was a trail to the dam (wrong side of course). Dan carried the canoe on his back for about 1/4 mile, I carried water bottles, boat motor, and the one flip flop (wouldn't want to litter). Of course the trail was rocky too and Dan is barefoot carrying a canoe (oh yeah, and he has a shoulder injury from baseball). We made it to the dam and had to bring the canoe down a steep hill to the river, but we did it and made it across to the Xterra. I kept thinking of you and the conditions you trained in for SF. Ha, your 52 year old mom thinks she is SF!!! That should bring a chuckle to your world. Anyway, Dan and I bonded, today we will go back to laundry and packing, cooking and cleaning. Life is good.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Sunday, August 2, 2009
We the Trad Climbers...
This is fast becoming the Sam and Derek blog. Not my original intentions, but Что будет, то будет (Russian for, "what will be, will be"). All I can say is: Next week will be different. A multi-state posse of ten will be rolling to the New River Gorge, assembling in full on Friday night.
As for this weekend, one word: Chill.
Derek and I hit up some true, J-Tree-style hand cracks on Saturday morning at the Junkyard Wall. I reacquainted myself with the art of crack climbing on New Yosemite, an ultra-classic 5.9, while Derek got in his first-ever crack lead (and first trad fall) on Labrador, a beautiful but rarely climbed 5.8 on Cat's Wall. We also discovered a population of giant, mutant spiders on the abandoned North Junkyard Wall, while climbing a smattering of .7s and .8s. In the afternoon, we wandered over to Kaymoor, where I got my ass handed to me on a silver platter. Derek belayed me up a steep 5.12a, where I linked the moves, but the redpoint remained far from my grasp -- so I settled for a beautiful 5.10a arete.
Rain hit hard Saturday night and drowned any plans for climbing on Sunday. But we eagerly raced back to Bragg where homework and dirty laundry awaited. Whoohoo!
Sorry for the lack of pictures. The climbs we worked demanded the belayer's full attention, and with only two of us, we were a hand short for taking good photos. All we got was one obscene picture depicting Derek's and my dim view of sport climbers. Sorry, folks, but my mom reads this blog.
Long Live Trad Climbers: The Few Who Do Stupid Things for a Pointless Sport!
As for this weekend, one word: Chill.
Derek and I hit up some true, J-Tree-style hand cracks on Saturday morning at the Junkyard Wall. I reacquainted myself with the art of crack climbing on New Yosemite, an ultra-classic 5.9, while Derek got in his first-ever crack lead (and first trad fall) on Labrador, a beautiful but rarely climbed 5.8 on Cat's Wall. We also discovered a population of giant, mutant spiders on the abandoned North Junkyard Wall, while climbing a smattering of .7s and .8s. In the afternoon, we wandered over to Kaymoor, where I got my ass handed to me on a silver platter. Derek belayed me up a steep 5.12a, where I linked the moves, but the redpoint remained far from my grasp -- so I settled for a beautiful 5.10a arete.
Rain hit hard Saturday night and drowned any plans for climbing on Sunday. But we eagerly raced back to Bragg where homework and dirty laundry awaited. Whoohoo!
Sorry for the lack of pictures. The climbs we worked demanded the belayer's full attention, and with only two of us, we were a hand short for taking good photos. All we got was one obscene picture depicting Derek's and my dim view of sport climbers. Sorry, folks, but my mom reads this blog.
Long Live Trad Climbers: The Few Who Do Stupid Things for a Pointless Sport!
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