Sept 29

Today was my homies last day at his current job before he moves out of state. He's worked the same job for about a decade now, so it's a big day for him. We took a cruise in Herman up the hill. Hung out at the boulder, where I got a bun have climbing in. Super comfy weather with a full moon rising above the ridge around 9. Played 93.5 KDay off the wind up radio. Good night to chill.

Moving around... a subject for another time. Time to wind down.

Here are some points from climbing on the boulder tonight that I wish to record:

-Some loose pieces. Bring hammer and knifeblade to remove them.

-Tiny adorable Deer Mouse lives inside boulder. Huge ears and eyes. He was staring out at me, and I watched him (or her) run around in the horizontal crack.

-The hand crack in the center of the boulder ends at a roof if you lie on your back like a boulderer. A sometimes awkward pull-up move from a horizontal position followed by a quick hand jam in the roof's crack. Fire more jams and mantle up onto the rock (70-80*). No idea what I'd rate it.

-Climbing up the left arête sometimes is at that level of spicy that may be too much sometimes. Lieback the left edge, which feels like a large sharp flake. Smear the gritty face where you can't find positive feet. This is spicy sometimes.

-New circuit: start on far left edge and traverse the boulder going right. Go around corner onto interesting moves, then up right next to the loose flake. Downclimb crack on face, then down and right to edge. Down to just above ground. Stick to smallest holds possible and traverse left. It would be cool to also climb the 'roof crack' this way, without touching the ground.

-adventure thoughts-

One particular string of thoughts I enjoy picking apart is how deeply I want to do a big climb alone that requires a great deal of me and my soul. In my head, I imagine not only the endless terrain one sometimes encounters, but also moments of fear and elation. Everything can be amplified through isolation. Mistakes are paid for in more work, more time, and sometimes more fear. One climb on my mind would involve a lot of work. There's a ridge that offers around 10,000ft of elevation gain with a big 1,000ft technical buttress on it. The climbing on the buttress appears to be challenging. I would like to try to climb this in winter. It would require a lot from me, even if I prove to be in good shape, or my technical aptitude was at a proficient level. Tons of terrain. Sometimes it never ends. Makes you question why you trudge up mountains in the first place. Those are low-level doubts. You've organized a trip where nobody needs you for that amount of time, so don't quit unless absolutely necessary. To do so is to hurt only yourself. When I feel doubt or feel I should bail, I always ask myself if there's a real reason to do so. Am I injured to the point where I require true treatment and soon? Is someone at home hurt? Are you going into stupidly bad conditions, such as consistent rock or ice fall, or avalanche conditions? Probably not. Don't give up, cause that's what it is. If you're willing to be this far into this stuff, you should make sure you give it some real work. 

Remember that when you wake up at 3am to drive to a trailhead so you can hike in to some route and have a million excuses ready. It pays off when you're in the moment. Being in cool places like Telegraph Peak's southwest ridge in winter, as clouds envelope your world and offer brief glimpses of neighboring peaks covered in snow. It's a cool place to be alive, and nothing can beat that feeling.

The mind is all over the place.