Life for Sale!

Well, after much talk, work, speculation, anxiety, etc., I have finally placed my house on the market... Where am I moving to? I moved in with Jim in early February. At the end of February I had concept debut, then Jim had hernia surgery. In March I had pneumonia. The latter half of the month was spent with a couple adventures and a LOT of prepping for the big sale. My parents came down a couple times to help out, but even a week ago it still seemed like we'd never be done. In fact, I wasn't convinced it was going to happen until midday on Monday. It went on the market Monday night... The link above is for the RMLS site, but my realtor, Leia, put together a great site, and I've posted the photos to my site.

It turned out to be a lot more nerve wracking and emotional than I ever could have predicted... As we closed the house up Monday night, Jim went ahead to start the car. I stopped on the front walk, turned around and whispered, "good bye, house." Before I even got to the word 'house', my voice cracked and my eyes welled up. And then I just started bawling... I cried for hours and at times felt inconsolable. And then I felt crazy, because I was mourning a house like a family member. But then, all things considered, that house has been a family member of sorts. It's a huge, expensive pain in the ass at times, and shelter and comfort other times. It's always there, waiting for me. I am very protective of it. And likewise, proud. But it's time for new and better things.

In the end, I find myself pondering all the things the house symbolized to me. I bought it when I was 27 years old, in fact, decided to make the offer on my 27th birthday. I lived in this house longer than I have lived in any other residence in my entire life. I have filed lawsuits to protect my house and prevailed. And more than anything, this house was my home. My first home. All the others had a feeling of temporary shelter, but this was mine. That was why I bought a house in the first place--I wanted a home. I also wanted a dog... [I adopted Ellis just 6 days after moving in.]

Anyway, it is the end of an era, and more importantly, the beginning of a whole new adventure. There will be more news of equal magnitude soon... stay tuned!

Super Slab

Climbing is fun. So this past weekend, 4 of us at Smith Rock decided to romp up 1 area before heading home from a weekend of skiing and snowboarding.

Climbing involves two essential items: Exhilaration and Saftey.

Climbs are defined as a route, and the first ascent party has all the say in how the route should be climbed. This creates great discussions over style and ethics. For our route on this day, we had 3 segments or "pitches" of climbing. The middle pitch is a mild sideways scamper, rather than a vertical ascention.

In ye olden days, when climbs were mild, climbers often decided to forgo saftey measures. "Hey, if you can get to this point, you won't worry about this little bit further", was the prevalent philosophy. In doing this, they risk a bit of safety for more exhilaration, turning a mild scramble into a headtrip by making you risk injury. People later follow such routes sometimes unknowing how each in their party will feel on such a pitch. Such was our 2nd pitch of Super Slab.





Number 7 is our route




It's only 10 feet high climbing, and it's on holds large enough be considered a ladder. But when you put it 60 feet in the air, it becomes a little more "exciting" to climb. Away we went!

I led first, then built the anchor. Hanmi followed me, then Mark, then Tamar. All crowded in, I led off again as soon as Tamar showed up. It was cold and we were all getting a little snippy. Once on the climb, I was in heaven, great moves on solid gear. I did exactly what was described above, I placed gear ever 15-20 feet, even though that's considered run-out. I just wanted to get up the climb swiftly and give Mark some sense of a committed lead. Hanmi seconded superbly, and then Mark sport lead without much trouble, and Tamar cleaned.

Rap and home! I certainly appreciated hot tea at the Black Bear Even if the meals are outrageously large.

Out Through The In Door

Out of various other events this past weekend, one jumps out as a comedy of above-normal proportions. Imagine, if you will, checking into a ratty but marginally acceptable motel close to your destination. Inexpensive and walking distance to food and nightlife, you take the keys and settle in. On day 2, in your room tired and and about to lay down for the evening, you go to open the door to visit friends one room over....

It doesn't open. Not from the inside. Not from the outside. Locked, unlocked, not after throwing the keys out the 2nd story back window to a friend and they try to unlock it. Nothing. The latch is broken. Eventually it is discovered that the latch has deformed inside the housing and will not ever move again. Long before then however, you are trapped in your room.

Scour for tools! Disassemble the doorknob! No, the latch housing is still trapped in the door, and still locking you in your room. Out the window? Well, even as rock climbers, you'd rather not scramble down buildings in the rain. Plus, there's already people outside helping. With all your gear in the room, the door simply needs to open, but doesn't.

The manager is missing. The police number is busy (really!) and the owner lives far outside the little town, "I'll be there as soon as I can". Meanwhile, you have no more faith that he can help you any more than you're already doing. Plus, it's fun to figure stuff out , right?

"Throw the multi-tool up from the car!" you exclaim to the friend outside. Around the back window, they toss it up...and onto the roof! So, wearing pajamas under climbing harnesses, you climb the building a few feet in the rain to retrieve the precious instrument of escape.

With said multi-tool, plus every keychain item you have, and adding in a snowboard multitool, you remove the hinges via multilation. Still the door is snug in the jam and you Need A Hero to kick it in.

With a few dramatic kicks, shoulder-throws and pounds, friend Mark succeeds in the crashing the heavy door into the room. The latch is removed, the door is re-hung, and the owner shows up in time to deliver a new latch and a meager apology. "Sorry guys, glad we got it fixed. Goodnight!" Such is small-town hospitality. After a small twinge of wanting to lock him in the room and drive off, we threw back some scotch, planned the next day's climbing, and went to bed.

Will I stay there again? Possibly, but I'll bring a few more tools.

all decked out... and no where to go!

If you climb, and you hear the word 'decked'... it is not, as Martha would say, a good thing. Essentially, it means you fell, and you hit the ground. This past weekend, while climbing at Smith Rock with Jim, I did just that.

It was a stellar day--beautiful weather, great friends, and uncrowded routes.


We started the day at the dihedrals, scaling cinnamon slab's 2 pitches before rapping down the backside to climb Spiderman.

The first pitch there was dull, but the second pitch rocked. just past the first belay anchor was a tough spot where I really had to wrestle with a nut to get it out. after that I climbed back down to a good foothold to rest up before attempting a layback. Then I took a deep breath, gripped the left side of the crack and used the entire right side of my body in unison with my hands and feet to shimmy up and over the bulge. that felt amazing. The next interesting part was a roof with an undercling that took you out to this bizarre layback move. it took some thinking and
some arms to get around, but I managed to do it smoothly on my first shot.

I was super stoked because I finally felt like I was climbing efficiently. at no point were my arms pumped out or my legs shaky... I didn't hesitate or spend a lot of time looking for the right move. I was just having fun!

Once I got over the crux, Jim told me he'd saved me ‘a little’. I noted that he'd built a trad anchor and left about 15 ft to the bolted anchor at the top of the route. I already had all the ‘big’ gear from cleaning the route below; so after taking a swig of water I took off on my very first trad lead. I placed 2 cams and the biggest hex in the rack before clipping the anchors and belaying Jim the rest of the way.

I was on top of the world!

We did some 4th class scrambling around the top of the buttress before making our way back to the anchors above cinnamon slab and rappelling down to our gear. there were people all over most of the routes there, but one remained empty. I asked Jim to let me lead what turned out to be 'easy reader'. Rated at 5.6, it was a very easy sport climb. it was almost disappointingly easy... at this point we had a little more than an hour of daylight left, and after a bit of discussion, we decided to go to Lion's Jaw.

Now mind you, I was feeling VERY confident... okay, 'over' confident... at first I said I couldn't lead lion's jaw, as it is a trad route. Jim said I could, so I said okay without giving it another thought... had I been thinking, I would have realized that I probably wasn't at the top of my game--tired, hungry, feet sore... but I wasn't thinking. I was jonesing like an addict.

I tied in, placed a cam at the bottom as a directional, and started up the smooth dihedral. at the first solid footing, I placed a second cam and gave it a good yank in every direction. satisfied that it wasn't going anywhere, I clipped the rope and headed up. this is when I first sensed I might be in trouble. it took a while to get the cam into a good spot and my right foot was especially fatigued from holding the position. Jim, concerned that I maintain a good level of protection, was instructing me to place gear. I get a bit literal when I’m tired, so I started trying to place a nut right where I was... my footing was crappy, though, and I knew I wouldn't be able to last there long. I pulled off a 1" nut and tried to slot it in the crack... it was too small... I put it back on the ‘biner… at this point Jim suggested I take the whole carabiner off my gear sling and try slotting until I found one that fit... I started to take the ‘biner off, but realized my foot was going to pop at any minute, so I down climbed to the ledge next to my last piece of gear.

I rested there for a minute then headed back up, but stupidly stopped in the exact same place I was in before... finally, I realized I need to climb up, that I just couldn't stop where I was... unfortunately, I realized it a little too late... sensing my feet were about to go, I jammed both hands into the opposing cracks and scrambled around with my feet looking for anything to stand on... the wall to my left was impossibly smooth--I couldn't even get traction smearing. and then my left foot slipped off the wall entirely. the jolt caused my right foot to pop off the tiny nubbin. the crack was too smoothed out from years of climbing and all at once I was sliding straight down the wall... I don't know when my hands came out of the crack. I do know that I looked down between my feet at one point and saw what looked like high-speed film running backwards... truly bizarre. I waited for Jim to catch me at the second piece, but I don't even remember slowing down. Chances are good I actually kicked the 2nd cam out on my way down... I don't even remember hitting the ground. I remember, albeit vaguely, sitting down. Jim kept telling me I was all right and had his arms around me... I thought, 'what is that sound? who's screaming?'... then, as if waking from a dream, I realized that I was the one screaming bloody murder... and then the full brunt of the pain in my left foot took over... I screamed to have him take the shoe off. I knew in another minute or two the swelling would be so bad that they'd have to cut the shoe off... of course, the slightest touch made me scream louder.

just joking...

i've had all kinds of blog fodder swirling in my brain this week, but sadly, precious little time for writing. so for now, i offer this:


Sunday School
Little Mary was not the best student in Sunday School. Usually she slept through the class. One day the teacher called on her while she was napping, ''Tell me, Mary, who created the universe?''

When Mary didn't stir, little Johnny, an altruistic boy seated in the chair behind her, took a pin and jabbed her in the rear. ''God Almighty !'' shouted Mary and the teacher said, ''Very good'' and Mary fell back to sleep.

A while later the teacher asked Mary, ''Who is our Lord and Savior?'' But Mary didn't even stir from her slumber. Once again, Johnny came to the rescue and stuck her again. ''Jesus Christ!'' shouted Mary and the teacher said, ''Very good,'' and Mary fell back to sleep.

Then the teacher asked Mary a third question, ''What did Eve say to Adam after she had her twenty-third child?'' And again, Johnny jabbed her with the pin. This time Mary jumped up and shouted, ''If you stick that damn thing in me one more time, I'll break it in half!''

The Teacher fainted.