Summer Solace

Hello again, dear friends and family. The summer is full blast and we're through the first week of above-100-degree weather. No word on if another will hit us, but right now things are delightfully balmy.

We've been busy. Here's a summary:
I got ordained as a minister and officiated two friends' weddings. They didn't want to do anything complicated or large, so having a friend help out was impossible to ignore. The big days were flawless, and everything went just fine. Hanmi shot the weddings and the photos are beautiful.

Han's working on some new websites. They are not only well-done, but quite informative. If you're in the area, give these businesses a visit
FixYourOwnBack.org: using doctor-approved gentle exercises.
Shasta Trout: When you want the best trout-fishing excursion possible.
h2meyer.com: The most beautiful photography ever.
Padre Pio: Cool Tunes
Diamond-Cut Life: Sustainability Blog and News. Great ideas for living great the low-impact way.

We're both back to full climbing season, with 3 or 4 trips out per week, getting set for nice trips to Smith Rock, Leavenworth, and Red Rocks.

Han is now selling "The Hotness" BBQ Sauce. If you want some, just let us know. We have testimonials from all over our circle of friends: This stuff is THE best BBQ sauce you'll ever try. It's hot, not too sweet, and full of a flavor.

Padre Pio has a show coming up! If you're in the area, stop in and let us entertain you.

Until next, time, be sure to kiss your chick.

Road trip with Dad - day 1

Last week I had the opportunity to travel to Mt. Shasta, California to visit a client [and now friend] to climb, learn to fly fish, take some pictures, and get to know each other. Originally Jim was going to come along, but his work schedule is tight and he had to bail. As Craig [my client] is a fly fishing guide, I started thinking my dad might really enjoy going with me. Sure enough, he was game and we took off on Tuesday.
The plan was to drive from Portland to Ashland the first day, with a detour to take us past Crater Lake. The drive ended up being much longer than planned, but our luck prevailed and we narrowly dodged the Royce Butte wildfire (the road was closed 5 minutes after we passed), falling trees, and a lightening storm on our side trip. We arrived safely in Ashland a couple hours later than planned, but had a great meal at the Black Sheep Pub [a discovery on last year's road trip with Jim], and topped it off with a Guinness float. Naturally, I took a lot of photos...
There will be more photos and details to come...

Climbing at Beacon Rock

Anna Climbing, photo by Hanmi.

Last weekend we took our neighbor climbing at our favorite local crag. She's been climbing indoors for a while at school, but has only climbed outside once or twice. You'd never know it based on how she attacked every route we put her on, though. She's definitely a natural, and I'm sure we'll be seeing her out on the rock a lot more in years to come. Nice work Anna!

More Squamish Photos

Here are a few of my faves from our recent trip to Squamish BC. If you squint and cross your eyes a little you can almost see the cougar as it strolled past our tent. I have no idea why I was so shaky trying to take the shot...

Squamish, BC

Summer is perfect for climbing northward of us, especially when it's been dry for 6 weeks. So, with our dear friend Christine as our guide, we took a tip up to the town of Squamish, British Columbia in nearby Canada. It's a small but lovely logging and outdoor-tourism town that sits adjacent to some amazing granite monoliths.


Our trip was short by most standards, so we decided to hit a large adventure our first day our. With a team of three, we had to be mindful of the time out, but the peak was less important than simply all getting a chance to climb exciting rock. With that "The Ultimate Everything" delivers! All moderate grades and quite wild and bushy.

We began on a popular route on "The Apron" called Deidre, which was 5 pitches of wonderful low-angle slab and small cracks. We hit it early (about 7AM) and were the first team out. Eventually we saw more folks, but for such a popular climb it was nice to be climbing alone as a team.

Our team consisted of myself, my wife Hanmi and our friend Christine. Christine's been visiting Squamish for many summers, so we skipped the typical hunt-and-peck for the route starts. The base of many climbs is an exercise in finding an elusive trail or choosing the right path among too many. Also, the starts of the routes we hit were actually up the wall a bit, requiring us to scramble before beginning.

Once up above the traffic, the sky was a mixture of hot sun, cool breezes and hazy horizons. The weather is typically variable and occasional rain can be expected all summer long. Except for the shuffling of jackets and hat on or off, we were pretty comfortable all day.

Ultimate Everything is a link up from the top of The Apron to the top of the Chief, by way of a few trails and a ledge-access short pitch. After Deidre, we took Memorial Crack upwards, then hiked around a gully system to a bushy ledge to an obvious start. The pitches here were exhilarating and yet still moderate, in a word, wonderful!

We reached a ledge by 5PM and looked at the water/time/route options and decided to hit the bar. We didn't need to walk or rap down in the dark just to bag the peak, given that we still had 5 days of new rock to explore.

After a short tour through the Smoke Bluff crags and a day "resting up" bouldering, we were back to play on another route on the Apron: "Snake". This route was new for all of us, and involved some fun exposed climbing. There are a number of traverses, the crux pitch being a traverse where the climber can make use of a snake-like tree root running horizontally. It's great fun and worth a 1/2 day.

We made good time for a team of three, taking it easy and averaging about 1 hour per pitch, with lots of cheering and snacks along the way. I was most impressed with our abilities, given that we've not been pushing our climbing skills for a few weeks. Hanmi especially has progressed tremendously, as her abilities leading, following, building anchors and racking cleanly were great (though I'm not really one to judge).

Some more pictures from various spots on the wall...

Another weekend at Smith Rock

Smith Rock is a wonderful place to adventure around. We've been there many times over the years. As we climb both new and old routes, with new and old friends, it keeps the air of magic about it. There's always a climb yet to discover, so we jump at the chance to walk along the walls and try something new. This past weekend was no exception.

Friday, we drove down with Gabriel and set up camp and relaxed with a beer. Saturday we climbed in the morning - some easer routes that everyone could have fun on - until the heat sent us down to visit the river. In the afternoon we met up with Claudine and Anwen, catching up along the way with a few other friends also spotted throughout the park. Then we romped over at the Phoenix area, climbing anything open. Everyone had a nice workout and we headed back before the angry skies opened. One remembers why climbing, anywhere, is such a great sport and past-time.

Hanging 'round the campfire. most of us with pants on...

Saturday evening consisted of a fire, a game of capture the flag (where is that thing?) and some delicious food. We took a short walk to Skull Rock, listened to the coyotes, and told many funny stories. I had to sew and small tear in my jeans from a clumsy fence hop (ever the nimble climber). Parties were all-around; someone (hey Chad!) brought a keg. Scout headed off the bed, the youngest climber in our group at 8 months old.

Zack explains how to climb with a newborn.

Tamar tells a story - Scout beams with pride. Jim sews pants.

Sunset over Skull Hollow Campground

Sunday was more climbing, getting everyone "good value" on a tough and exhilarating route - Smith is like that, being almost an outdoor gymnasium. Hanmi and Tamar had fun on Cinnamon Slab and Cry Baby, while we played on Lion's Jaw, Moonshine and Heinous, Ginger Snap, Easy Reader, Five Gallons and Light on the Path.

Tamar, Hanmi, Scout, Jim, & Gabriel mug for the camera

Alisha and Gabriel both seemed to get crash courses in cleaning and belaying. I'm happy to report that they didn't let anyone down. Great job! Gaby is visiting from Argentina for just two weeks and was especially adventurous in joining us, as well as helpful in helping to carry gear. Thanks for holding me up on that hard route, buddy!

Cinnamon Slab area at Smith Rock

We ate on Sunday night at Terrebonne Station, we were offered the "20-inch brown" - which I declined, not asking exactly what that meant. Hanmi was asked about a drink, the exchange went like this:

"I'll have a ginger ale."
"You say, a ginger ale?"
"Yes, please."
"Ok, you'd like a ginger ale?"
"Yes."
"Ok" [pause while he writes something on his pad]
.."we don't have ginger ale. Would you like something else?"

We all did a silent double-take.

But waiting tables is tough work, so I won't pick on our waiter too much. I am curious about what he wrote in that split second. Maybe something like "ginge..OOPS"

Climb like a girl!

In other news, climbing season is officially in full swing. We haven't been to the rock gym since April, and Jim and I are both proudly sporting the battle scars of climbing on real rock. I look a bit like a kid who's just started to run - my knees and shins are all bruised and scabbed from my recent ascents/attempts of several climbs featuring burly roof problems.

Historically, roof climbs were the source of much angst for me. Jim loves them, and being that when he has a reach of close to 8 feet, rarely finds himself unable to reach a hold. I, on the other hand, can reach about 6 1/2 feet, which often leaves me "short" [pun intended]. As such, I have to figure out another way to get through the crux, often making several more energy burning moves along the way. On hard climbs [5.10+ and up for me] I find that I pretty much get one shot to pull the move and if I hesitate or get the sequence wrong, I'm done - subsequent attempts, even after hang dogging and resting my arms are completely futile.

But I have been successful lately on some pretty spicy routes, and that seems to be feeding a new passion for the once dreaded roof climb. I am especially a fan of routes that require at least as much finesse and technique as they do brawn to get through. Sometimes my small stature proves to be an advantage as I can walk my feet way up so that I'm pretty much crouching under the roof, rest, then lean out or over and stand up to reach the next hold. This is far less strenuous than just trying to grab the next hand hold and pull myself over with just my arms, not to mention the fact that I often cannot reach the "next" hold. The best part is that occasionally it will get me through something that will shut down climbers much taller and stronger than myself. Those moments, combined with the huge confidence boost in my climbing ability combine to form the candy that keeps me coming back for more.

Spring Thing 2008

Almost every year, many of the climbers of the Northwest travel down to Smith Rock State Park in Oregon and perform a full day of trail maintenance. More than a simple litter pickup or tree planting (although we do that too), this is back-breaking work to construct safer trails on the steep slopes of the park.

Given the delicate desert landscape, having trails is a good way to join both the community and the climber crowd together to promote the park. This little park is a jewel of geological history and of course - it has awesome climbing routes.

The work parties started at 8 on Saturday and spread out across the park, each under a lead that directed the action. The supplies are carted or trucked to the edge of the park or area, but the majority of the work is bucket-brigade or simply walking with a heavy rock, putting it in place, then getting another.

But when the day progresses, finally wrapping up in the early afternoon (the hot afternoons shut everything down), the trails look amazingly new. These events are a great way to meet new climbers and catch up with old friends.

Also, the bolts that have gotten notices about being ready for replacement are all checked and replaced. This is especially reassuring, as the rock qualities at Smith are touch on any fixed gear, due to the high thermal expansion cycles of the desert and the rock actually being a "welded tuft", a form of petrified volcanic ash.

These pictures aren't a great way to capture Smith's expansive vista, especially from the top, where the majority of central Oregon's lower Cascade mountains are visible across a green blanket of farms and small towns. I believe Oregon to be one of the most beautiful places on earth, but you'll just have to take my word for it. No picture would suffice.







Smith Rock is located centrally in Oregon, not far from the larger town of Bend. It gained popularity in the 1980's as "this birthplace of American Sport climbing", which is to say, some local climbers cleaned the loose rock , bolted the walls into very tough routes, and invited the world to try the climbing. The entire process was bumpy in a few ways, including getting a community used to a new tourism feed in their area, and getting a climbing world used to a few "new school" techniques of putting a climbing route on a wall without always starting from the ground each time.

Many times, routes were so difficult that they demanded a series of "practice sessions" of small sections until they could all be linked up into a single, highly gymnastic sequence. This was new to the world of climbing, where a more mountaineering atmosphere was the norm ever since "traditional climbing" broke into a sport of its own decades prior. During the 1980's, "sport climbing" sought to create or find routes that didn't achieve a goal height, attain a peak, or adhere to a crack-based, naturally protected route. Instead, stone anchors were drilled into the wall and thus every face, however devoid of features, become yet another "project". When records for difficulty appeared at Smith (5.14b), it finally attained status world-wide as a place to visit on every climber's list.



We climbed later that day, in the shadier areas, then met up again that night for a party of beer and burritos. A slideshow, a few movies of some outrageous climbing from around the world (shown by attendees of the party) and the highlight of the evening, an auction and raffle of some great donated gear. This year, a huge amount of gear seemed to appear from some new sponsors.



We're very happy and thankful to get an opportunity to join in with our friends and help make a park a bit prettier and a lot safer for everyone to enjoy. I recommend anyone who has time to visit that park, and a few others, here in Oregon. And if you can find a way, throw some donated labor into your community. It feels great.

Torres del Paine

In the lake-strewn hills and plains at the base of Torres del Paine, there are just a few winding dirt roads and busloads of tourists seeking one of a handful of hikes in the area. There’s tons of beautiful scenery, wild animals, and beautiful flowers. The mixture changes as you head into the foothills and then into the true mountain range.

We have hiked all day, in hot sun, howling wind, and misting rain. There are not many people who’ve made the final leg of the hike, and the trail maps all suggest this part is suitable only for climbers. We reached the final bluff by scrambling an hour on gigantic boulders, hopping and climbing an unmarked route – everyone took a different position so that dislodging a loose stone wouldn’t result in the person behind them getting injured.


The final vista was a bit foggy and rainy. But for the journey, it was all worth it. The peaks are impressive, even shrouded in mist. We turn back and reach camp 3 hours later, for a total trip of about 8 hours covering 22km on foot. We make a quick meal and crash in the tent, laughing with exhaustion that the sun doesn’t set until 11:30 here, and even after that, the sky is quite bright until after midnight.

Much to do!

So much has been going on, so little being blogged about... I now know why people end up busier than ever once they retire... this retirement=boredom idea is a complete myth... urban legend, even. I suppose there could exist someone so unimaginative, so completely without inspiration that they must always have someone directing them, but thankfully I know of no one that fits that description.

As for me, there has been the website, chicken coop, garden, new planter boxes, djing a high school reunion, sweeping the 2007 Backyard BBQ Iron Chef competition, bike rides, discovering new restaurants, hanging with the neighbors, teaching young chickens new tricks, putting a show together, creating a studio/office space, taking photos, and learning to get comfortable marketing myself. In fact, there's been so much going on, I've only gone climbing 3 times since retiring!

My next week or so will be devoted to getting some marketing materials together, as I have a show opening on First Thursday! The evening of August 2nd will be the official opening downtown at the Morning Star Cafe. Save the date! More details to come. If you want to be added to the mailing list, please send me me an email.

[where: 510 SW 3rd Ave, Portland, OR 97204]

Equinox : Part III

Please see Part 1 and Part 2 of this story for the complete epic tale.


It got late quickly. Each rap was pretty straightforward, but long and sometimes overhanging, leaving our feet to dangle. Caleb and I simul-rapped for speed, leaving Hanmi had to wait in the pitch black for a bit, then carefully thread the rope into her rappel device and descend in total darkness. She asserts that it was quite exciting. Bats and the occasional ringtail cat kept her company.

Long-exposure shot from the top at night

We had no problems rigging the raps all the way down. We were very tired and dried out, but the cool breeze of the night woke us up and the rappels kept us sharp. Nothing is more dangerous in climbing than the rappel. You’re usually tired and prone to mistakes. Rappelling also relies on fewer redundancy systems than in ascending. There is no climbing ability involved with rapping, which can leave a climber feeling more helpless. So, we were all checking one another and talking aloud and employing auto-blocks on the ropes for addition safety.

Then, some minor disasters: Twice Hanmi’s ropes became tangled in trees, causing her to have to wrestle them free in order to continue down. On the next to last rappel, we descended to a ledge couldn’t find the anchors. After some tense searching, they were found along the ledge some distance away requiring more scrambling on loose rock in the dark. Then, during another overhanging rap, a knot of rope got bound up in my rappel device. I tried in vain to free it, then to set up a system to ascending the rope above to unweight it, but the slings I had didn’t hold. Then Caleb, also dangling next to me in the darkness, grabbed it with his teeth and pulled like a rabid dog until it came out. We got to bottom and quickly loaded up the water bottles from a nearby spring.

Top of the, um, mornin' Mom!

By now it was after midnight with moon almost full and bright across the valley. We thrashed our way to the road, giddy with mineral-water-laden bellies, knowing that the final straw to secure this day as an “Epic” was drawn: The free shuttle into and out of the park was gone. We had to walk the five miles out with the gear.

Looking up, we saw the formations we had descended, now bathed in moonlight. The scale of the wall from the base was so much greater than the hundreds of individual inch-by-inch movements we’d used to go up. Some off-the-cuff calculations put the total ascended gain at over 1300 feet.

After some food and more water – couldn’t get enough – we started marching. Then soreness took over. In a flash at one point, Caleb dropped his pack and yelped “I forgot! I have ibuprofen!” A few animal sightings later, with some strange noises along the creek and amazing moon-shadowed canyon buttresses, we arrived at the lodge.

The lodge was closed. It was locked, with folks were asleep in their rooms at 1:45 AM, as we expected. Caleb managed one bar on his cell phone and called a friend. 20 minutes later, we’re stepping out of the car at our campsite.

I go walkin', after midnight...

Our bodies took a tremendous beating. The off-widths and chimneys were exciting but tiresome. Scratches appeared were normal climbing would never touch. Our hands, although initially taped, had worn down to skin and beyond in many places. I crashed in the tent, with a gear sling still on my shoulder and still wearing my tape gloves. Hanmi and Caleb still had some adrenaline that kept them up for a bit.

Grade IV routes are described as “one long day or two days”. In review, we weren’t organized enough at the belay stations to tackle such a climb in one day – we could’ve done more to snack and rest while someone was climbing. Instead, we chatted and savored the view until we had burned too much time. Route finding and weather also played against us, but ambition and adventure always make climbing the exhilaration we seek – and we got more than enough that day.

Equinox : Part II

Please remove holds before climbing.

Please see Part I of this story if you need to catch up.

This pitch was crackers

The next pitch followed a thin seam that closed in many places on a broken face, my turn to lead. The holds were typical of a varnished face: small and highly incut “plates” all over the wall. However, these were the most friable, delicate holds I’ve ever used. The protection was laughable, with just a few small RP’s in the seam (about the size of 2 or 3 stacked nickels) and a few looped plates and 1 looped little bush. I pushed a bit further than the topo’s stated “anchor” because it was a single old drilled piton that stuck halfway out of the rock as the face eroded from under it, and up to a little crack.

Tarantula hiding from Han as she belays

I had holds break many times, and one time was a full one-armed swing off the rock and a re-grab to new holds, all 20ft off my last looped horn. Dramatic and scary! Caleb had a hold break off on the way up and took a full fall, pulling me sideways a bit – we both ended up with some chewed hands on that one. Hanmi didn’t fall, somehow climbing lightly enough – or perhaps we broke off everything loose already. It was raining rocks, some as big as softballs.

Like a drink from my invisible water bottle?

There was little room for three folks at my anchor, but I had pretty much run out of gear. Caleb came up, took the remaining gear, and passed me climbing to the next anchor. Hanmi came up as I kept belaying Caleb, using the beauty of an autoblocking device and some directional pieces.

All during this time, whenever the lead climber headed straight up, small-to-medium sized rocks fell on the lower ones. There was a lot of yelling, and each rock could shatter into several more on the way down. Some of the larger rockfall could have ended our day (or life) quickly, but thankfully it either missed us or shattered above. Both Han and I had golfball-sized ones hit on our helmets and shoulders. All of us had helmets, and I began to think about wearing one even on the Zion hikes.


The final pitches were about chasing the light as the sun lowered in the sky. We were out of water and all quite sore, especially our feet, as climbing shoes always strain your feet. Climbing moved slowly, with some movements causing cramps to bind your hands, arms and legs into searing pain and strange shapes. Starting at 7AM we were watching 7PM go by while still on the wall. The last few pitches were pretty good, with another scary lead out on tiny gear (I got that one and climbed it almost delirious, singing and placing tiny nuts anywhere – my mouth dry and sticky). This high up, the ledges were full of dirt, rock and scratchy scrub brush, with the occasional cactus for some additional challenge.

Ok, who turned off the lights!?

One of the pitches was an overhanging off-width that constricted, something I had never climbed before. With just a few holds to work with, we all managed to make it somehow, and Hanmi did it dragging the 20lb pack. Above that, it widened into a box chimney, where stemming needed one’s full leg length to reach ass to foot across the chimney walls. I didn’t see Hanmi climbing it, but since Caleb and I are in the 6ft range and she’s 5ft 4, I’m sure she pulled some crazy positions to get through that part. It was almost wider than my arm span.

It the top of these Zion towers the rock levels out, but it is covered with loose plates and rocks, all set in sand. Some of the rocks are teetering, balanced on a wind-swept fulcrum that demands you not touch it. It’s like walking on a chunky dune, but you cannot allow the rocks to side off and kill the folks behind you. It’s nerve-wracking and tiresome. At one point Caleb stopped climbing above us and tried to clean up all the rocks on the ledge and stack them to one side. The sun had set and the last light was leaving us as we reached the summit. We cheered quickly and it was time to descend.

Since none of us had done this route before, and the rappel route was different than the climb, so the pressure was still on to search for the correct path. But now it was dark, and although the moon had risen we were still in the shadow of the buttress next to us. This forced us to all move slowly on some high-angle loose terrain using just the one headlamp we brought.

After some time of searching and steep scrambling to edge of a dark cliff, we found a tree with slings and rappel rings. We looped the ropes through the rings and tossed it into the darkness. Caleb rappelled down first and shouted up that he had found the next anchor. Hanmi and I rappelled next and we felt sense of relief to be on our way. In total, we had 6 sixty meter raps to the base of the wall.

Part 3 of 3 coming up next...

Equinox : Part I

We've been in Zion for a few days. I have other notes, but this climb was awesome. I'm going to break it into several posts...

big wall, little people

While catching some lunch in the small town of Springdale, which lies just outside Zion Nation Park, Hanmi went shopping for a pair of hiking shoes. She met a clerk there and got to talking about climbing in Zion. He mentioned that he knew a bit about climbing, had grown up in Oregon, and that Zion is a great place to climb – and he guides cayoneering trips in the park and climbs elsewhere. So, we thought it’d be nice if we asked him to show us some of the more back country places to climb, not in the typical guidebook.

We met that night for dinner, and Caleb had scoured a few routes that climbers scrawl into the park ranger’s climbing log and had also talked to a friend about routes. He presented us with two choices: A 10-pitch 5.10 climb that topped the Leaning Wall in the Temple of Sinewava, or a series of 2-pitch 5.9 routes in one of the many crags along the walls of the gorge.

The park is endless beauty

We chose the larger climbing day, a grade IV called Equinox. It’s typical for the park at the 5.9 to 5.10 grade: several chimney pitches, some plants to wrestle with and possibly dirty in places. It’s one of the more-standard routes that intermediate climbers play on, but this early in the season and it not being listed in the published guidebooks assured us that it wouldn’t have any traffic. We agreed to meet at 6AM and take the first shuttle into the park (one cannot drive into the park).

All was good as we stepped off the bus and hiked the short distance to the base of the first pitch. We decided to leave our larger packs at the base, nearly empty, and carry just a small day pack for our water, snacks and shoes. It weighed a bit, but as we drank the water it would lighten up.

Gearing up

With three people climbing there’s a risk of moving too slowly to beat the daylight hours, which can strand the party on the wall until light comes around again. Our biggest worry was trying not to dry out, as the weather had warmed up a bit and the afternoon could see 95 degrees in bright sun. The second two on each pitch would climb on individual ropes and nearly at the same time to speed things up, which works well. All taped and roped up, the first pitch started.




The first pitch was a full-on chimney and off-width battle at a solid 5.7 level. The lead was heady (“rowdy” Caleb called it) since there was little protection for almost the whole thing. Hanmi and I followed, with me wrestling the bag up the chimney, dragging it behind me.

Off-width is on the topo as "OW"

Fist jams turned into liebacks, which turned into chicken-wings and kneebars, then a leg in the crack. Footstacks, handstacks, stemming and milking the face for holds all came into the playbook – what a pitch! There were two more, harder off-widths coming. We laughed with delight and awe at the intro pitch and moved over the base of the next.

Han shows off her crack technique

Hanmi lead next. It too was large for her hands, tough to protect, and mostly a run-out solo with a “psychological piece” for confidence (it wouldn’t hold a big fall but could allow her to rest if need be). As she reached the ledge at the top, a tarantula greeted her. Thankfully, it was shy and moved along. I have a thing about spiders, and I would’ve died of fright.

We traded again and I put up the next pitch, a longer crack system that ended in a nice ledge. Then Caleb put up another pitch and we were almost halfway through the route. The sun was ferocious at this point, and we were guzzling our water.

Stay tuned for Part 2 of 3!

The perspective shifts upward