Buttes Video!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=xxeJMCQQiog

Here is a nice lil video Joel Z put together from some shots he captured at the Sierra Buttes last spring/summer.  I should have included this in my last post...better later than never I suppose. 

I hope everyone enjoyed the holiday weekend and had the chance to visit with close friends, spend time with family, and digest a big side of the great outdoors! 

The Process

They call it ‘Hell’s half mile’ for a reason. 

The Hang

Last May, I followed my friends Dave Hatchett and Joel Zerr up a mountainside outside of the greater Lake Tahoe region for a day of climbing at the Sierra Buttes.  I was excited to check out a new area and grapple with some non-granite grips for a change.  I had no idea what I was about to be roped in to.

Day 1 - The hike: short, but brutal! The setting: serene. Conditions: perfect.  The rock: fantastic!  I was getting acquainted with the slick, steep orange stone that was littered with crisp edges, big pinches and large features as we warmed up for the day.  I couldn’t help but enjoy the view and the beauty of the area as I climbed as many new problems as I could. “This is a rad hang!”

Joel showed me some of the greats on ‘The Only Boulder’.  I managed to climb a beautiful problem that he had made the first ascent of some years ago called The Lumberjack on my first attempt…psyched.  He then showed me an unclimbed low start to the problem he had also tried back then that linked another ten moves into it.  Like Joel, I was immediately drawn to the line, the holds, and the potential for such a long and wickedly steep boulder.  Together, we started sussing the moves and managed to do all of them individually fairly quickly.  We gave a few good efforts and made decent progress.  “Another day or two and we got this for sure” I exclaimed.

The following week we trudged up the ¾ mile hike again in pursuit of ‘the proj’.  I was optimistic; I hadn’t stopped thinking about this problem since we walked away from it several days before.  Joel and I both linked high into the Lumberjack that day… “One more session and we can do this thing!” I enthusiastically exclaimed again as we hiked down that night.  We were both confident it was near completion…  Joel wanted to call it ‘Paul Bunyan’ because, well, he is the ultimate lumberjack. 

I hiked Hell’s Half Mile six more times after that day; Joel hiked it eight more.  Each visit ended similarly…Failure within a move or two of success.  The Lumberjack became a formality.  No matter how tired we felt and no matter how many times we fell off the top from the start, we could still send the stand start at the end of the session…

"Next time, for sure!"

Was this problem really that difficult or was this becoming a mental issue?  The climb is 20 moves long through insanely steep, gymnastic and powerful climbing.  We both knew the moves so well but still struggled to do each one perfectly enough to link them all together. 

Day 7: I let go of the rock and thumped to the pads as a sharp pain shot through my right knee.  My right pec muscle was burning with pain as well from trying the difficult compression moves up high too many times…I felt weak and beat down. ”I might have to give up on this one for the year” I thought.  Three weeks passed, snow blanketed the Tahoe basin; the fall season was slipping away.  My motivation to go back up there was also slipping and I declared myself too injured to even try that monster.     

Hell’s Half Mile feels even more brutal when wading through snow, especially while wearing tennis shoes after forgetting your gators.  It was a cold day and winds gusted as high as 35 MPH piercing through our bodies while we warmed up.  I was high up on a tall problem called ‘Mashed Potatoes and Gravy’ when our two mondo Asana pads flew out from below me in a wind gust that carried them both over 40 feet.  “This day” I thought, “is the day.”  We were both in pretty top form.  However, ‘Paul Bunyan’ wasn’t going down without a serious fight.  On our fourth attempt that day, we both fell from the very last move…the 20^th move!  Neither of us had ever been that close. “If I walk away today I will lose this battle to the coming snow” I thought.  Joel sent on his next try.  At this point we had each likely taken over 35 serious red point attempts.  I had accepted defeat for the day, but I was SO PSYCHED that at least one of us had just completed ‘the proj’!

Dark Matter

I hurried over to another problem I wanted to try once more before winter closed the Sierra Buttes and booted up.  After climbing ‘Dark Matter’, I silently thought to myself “maybe I have enough gas for one more try on the Bunyan”.  As we passed back by ‘The Only Boulder’ on the way out, I told Joel and David O. that I was going to try one more time because, well, why not?  It’s here, we’re here, game time.  Moments later, I screamed my way to the top at the end of the day and the end of the season to end the era. 

I’ve never been quite so involved with a boulder problem and never felt such satisfaction from completing one as I did that day.  The process through those particular eight days of climbing tested my patience, ability and attitude and in the end, the best part of it was not even completing the problem, but sharing the whole process with such a great friend and climbing partner. 

Paul Bunyan

As we stumbled down the steep hillside that evening, elated and in silence, I smiled knowing I could leave California for a while in peace.      

-All photos by Joel Zerr!!     

Valley Times

Rain.  High near 51.  New precipitation amounts of less than a tenth of an inch possible.  Damn!  Only two days with no rainfall isn’t enough time for it to dry…I drive on, thinking about ‘the proj’ and drying my sweating finger tips on my jeans. 

After three days of heavy rain, the valley floor feels like a wet sponge.  Fog blankets the meadows as the temperature slips away for the night.  It’s beautiful.  I spend the last hour of daylight running back and forth along the riverside at the back of El Cap Meadow; every day is a training day.  The cold air feels good as I swish through it, stopping to snap iPhotos of the stunning setting and the towering walls above me.  No matter how fast I go, I can’t outrun the excitement that radiates through me just from being in this place…. again. 

Yosemite Valley is a special experience for anyone who visits.  I’d like to think it’s even more extraordinary for me and for those that think like I think.  Last year was my first fall season as a Californian and I was lucky enough to have landed within range of The Valley on the year that it never snowed…or rained… Not until January 18^th.  Now I’m spoiled.  I couldn’t ever even imagine a place so indescribably grand.  Friends had told me on multiple occasions that, as a climber, you will never forget the moment when you see The Captain for the first time…Now I tell others the same thing.  An ‘average’ boulder problem here would be AMAZING in every other area I have explored.  The weather windows of opportunity here close before I’m ready.  Will tomorrow be the last good day?

Early mornings here are my favorite.  I consider it a blessing and a curse that I am unable to sleep in. There is always so much quiet and so much beauty around to try and take in before the rest of the valley wakes up. 

I finish my run and stop to stare at The Nose again. My gaze moves slowly up the wall and through the features that compose that particular route; I scan the meadow once more and see that the fog blanket is thickening.  A smile creeps back across my face and a shiver of energy pulses through my body as I’m reminded how good it is to be alive.         

                                   A magestic El Cap Meadow just before dusk

                  Kona, somehow even more psyched than me during our meadow run.

                                       Scofflaw - One of Randy's many beautiful new problems

Beginnings

Here I am, starting a blog...what have I become?  I've always been hesitant to share my view of the world and what happens within it through words in a public setting.  After all, who really cares to see what I'm doing, where I'm visiting and read about my selfish pursuits and dreams?  Besides, most of my experiences are enveloped inside an activity that really has no purpose other than personal satisfaction and enjoyment.  But there's more to it I suppose.  I have high hopes that this 'virtual diary' will collect a few thoughts and images throughout my journey.  Where am I going?  I'll be sharing that along the way...