Hueco: People and Projects

Ryan Young was a sports climber. Or so he says. I happen to know that he still partakes in bolt clipping, or at least dreams about it. What evidence do I have, you ask? Well, he carries a kneepad in his bouldering bag. And duck tape. And adhesive spray. Observe, Exhibit A: A Young Man and His Kneepad.

On the plus side, Ryan's a nice kid. And he took a lot of pictures, including pictures of people taking pictures of Ryan taking pictures.

He is not, however, a smoker. Neither am I, for that matter. But all the Peter Pans we went on tour with seemed to be, so we thought "what the hell, let's light up and enjoy the classy pleasure of a cigarette."

Poor Ryan couldn't even get the thing lit, so I gave it a go:

and failed terribly. Silven though, he was a champ. Showed us how Men do it.

Silven also got the spray down on James' super-project, a mostly-impossible line of edges leading into Terre De Sienne. Here James makes sure Silven knows where the holds are.

There were some other people in Hueco too. Apparently, it's a popular bouldering destination or something.

 

Despite the excess population, we had no problem getting reservations, unlike these poor gentlemen waiting at the gate.

Hueco: Cast and Crew

Recently there was a change of scenery for this Cosmonaut from this:

to this:

Along the way forces were joined with a plethora of supporting cast members, including (but not limited to):

Ryan "That'll Play" Young

Ryan "He's a Machine" Silven

Ben "If I Would Have Known That I Would Have Dropped" Spannuth

James "KiaForte!" O'Connor

and featuring some weird British guy as Some Weird British Guy

With stories of Hueco's New Age being not as restrictive as feared, they make a trip back for the first time in seven years. Sharma may be forty pounds bigger, but the good news is it's all muscle. And while that may only be the back cover of Best of the West, it more or less sums up the trip that followed. Or not at all, but whatever. That'll play.

Dispatches from Hoth

I thought winter climbing was all about finding the boulders that get sun and stay warm despite December's chill. Wrong. Winter climbing is about finding the rocks that never receive sunlight or solar warmth of any kind, and are accessible only by frozen river crossings.

Witness this recreation of a real photo of Lewis and Clark making their historic crossing of the Poudre River:

Photo: Sacagawea

The air was harsh and cold, the ice beneath our feet slippery. Nevertheless, we fastened our scarves tight about our necks and soldiered on.

 

 

Ryan received employee of the day honors for

a) his sick ice-ramp toe grab:

b) finding an amazing new crack project:

 

Seriously, Hayden, why do you drive all the way to Utah for this shit?

and c) discovering new, 5.9 beta for Ice 9:

 

There was also a new sport developed that day, but perhaps it's best to let the folks at Too Ugly for the Spot hash out those details.

The Feather

Not the Feather, alas. Instead, Red Feather. Which isn't a bad thing. Despite cool temps and a long walk on a snow-crusted road, we came to a climbable boulder called The Chopper.

B3PO, our guide and firestarter

 

Christ Craft

 

 

Despite being low to the ground, The Chopper is a remarkably good climb.  The first move, a powerful stab to a decent incut, is by far the crux, and after that come a few tenuous moves and a fun, Tigerstrike!!-approved mantle-press. We postulated that if it were on the boulder behind the Dali Wall, it would see more traffic than that boulder's namesake. Probably an exaggeration, but the point is that The Chopper, and Red Feather in general, is good. Very good.

To complete the day we saw a small herd (troop? gathering?) of deer, who seemed utterly uninterested in our activities. We joked that if it came down to it, none of us could cook, let alone capture, kill, and prepare, one of the deer. Grizzly Adams we ain't.

The Space

A tour of The Space, where bands play:

No pictures exist of the outside of the building, so that its location remains classified. Once you enter, though, make for B Stairs.

 

 

Head down the delightfully foreboding B Stairs into the basement.

Hang a quick left at the bottom, and pass through a thick, deadbolted door into the main hallwway.

At the end of this hall, take a right. Do not acknowledge Lord Vader; making eye contact is an invitation to be Force-choked.

Take another right and your there. That's us, first door on the left. Room S8(N).

 

 

 

Be careful, though, for if you make a wrong turn or go too far down a certain hallway, you'll have to face this beast:

An Unexpected Guest

Today, Lucas and I had a companion at Dark Waters:

We all got along well, even though she didn't bring a pad. Come to think of it, she wasn't too keen on spotting, either.

Made you look, Asher...

Neither of us had ever seen a black widow before, and we were both excited and terrified. Several things surprised me:
1) that she was at Dark Waters.
2) that she was so big.
3) that her hourglass was so vivd. I didn't adjust any settings on these photos; she's all natural.

It's great that climbing gives one the opportunity to be in the natural world (not that Clear Creek really exists in the natural world...) and come across such unexpected sights. Somehow, I don't think I'd have seen this if I was into racquetball.

Yellowhouse

Why, might you ask, does this post lack any new climbing media? Well, I'll tell you. This weekend, despite rather nice weather, I was busy preparing the house for occupation. Behold, the splendor of Yellowhouse:

 

Much work was done and much work remains. In the kitchen, especially:

beforeduring

In place of climbing photos, look upon these less exciting, less interesting shots, and despair:

 

 

 

While I'm excited to be moving into an actual house, the knowledge that my glorious November weekends will be spent working on said house and not climbing has me dangling on the brink of a total Jaegeresque depression. At least I'll be using a chainsaw soon.

In other news, I'm keeping a little log over here documenting my NaNoWriMo exploits. Warning: total waste of time.