Phunk and I headed up for a short sesh at the S-Curves, and then Laura and I came back with our mutual friend Helena to do a lap up Steort's Ridge. This was more or less Helena's first climbing experience, and the three-pitch route was by far the longest thing she has ever done. Despite being quite scared, she did a really good job. But she was still pretty excited to be back on the ground.
Tim (aka. Two Adze Tim) came down from O-Town for a day of tugging under beautiful bluebird skies (finally!). Neither of us had been into Ferguson Canyon for about five years, so we opted to go there and see what we could see. Good times were had by all, we did a few quality routes, and eventually called it a day as a result of toe and finger pain instead of pump. And holly hell, was everyone left in SLC hiking in this canyon today?
It was supposed to be nasty today, so I loaned out my truck and stayed at home taking care of some boring stuff. By early afternoon it was pretty clear that I had been duped, and when I got my truck back I went straight to LCC to salvage what I could of the day. I only got in a quick up and down lap on the bike, but at least it was something.
In an effort to treat biking as more of a training tool than a way to injure myself, I've decided to do way more uphill riding than I normally do. Riding with Jamon is a good way to accomplish this, especially when he shows up on a fully rigid, single-speed 29er and I'm on my 34lb freeride bike. We went to the Corner Canyon trails and he proceeded to run me into the ground. The downhill sections were very worth it though. Smooth, fast, and twisty.
I went back up to the Bobsled again today and joined Brad, Aaron, Syd, and a bunch of other people who's names I forget. Brad and Aaron are crushing as usual, and it was nice to have a rabbit to chase down the trail. I'm still skipping the big stuff in my effort to stay in one piece this year, but the two-wheeled steed is beginning to feel like a part of me again.
For two seasons in a row I've done something stupid on a bike which has resulted in season-stopping injuries. Last year I separated my collarbone when I overshot a jump and two seasons ago I broke bones in my left hand while I was at Whistler. The riding would have been worth it if that was my only purpose for the trip, but I was planning to climb in Squamish as well. On the way home I stopped and stared up at the Grand Wall, one hand twisted up into a wad of busted stuff and the other clutching the Vitamin I. As a result, I've put off biking this season for as long as I could. Today I finally caved and did a couple Bobsled laps with Alex and Toni. I rode like complete dogshit, but by the end of the second lap I was starting to feel at home on two wheels again. Hopefully I can make it this season without getting hurt. We'll see...
The Black Canyon has a reputation for brutal gullies, blood-sucking ticks, poison ivy, loose rock, hard route finding, and some of the best long climbs in the country. Jesse called me a few days ago and asked if I wanted to meet him down there for three days of fun, and I immediately jumped at the opportunity. This place lived up to most of the hype, and the climbs we did were far cleaner than I expected. On Friday we hopped on Comic Relief (III 5.10). Well, actually we started about 200-feet too far to the right and didn't join up with the route until the top of the third pitch. Once we were on route, the climbing was amazing and very clean. We finished it with the 5.11 variation which I highly recommend. On Saturday we sat out constant rain, and on Sunday we woke up at 5:00 am to a starry sky and hiked down the canyon to get on the mega-classic Scenic Cruise (V 5.10+). This route is definitely as good as everyone says it is. There's hardly a loose rock on the thing, and the peg traverse is not nearly as sketch as people make it out to be. Jesse and I busted it out in a little under 9 hours despite a couple misshaps on route which used up some time. And the best thing... when you finish the climb, you only have about 100-feet to walk along flat ground until you can crack a beer.
The forecast posted on the bulletin board at City of Rocks stated nothing but the word "calm" for the weekend's weather. We saw everything from 65 and sunny to howling wind to rain to hail. So much for the weatherman. Either way, Alex, Laura, and I managed to get in several pitches of Idaho's finest during "calm" spells. This place never gets old. Super solid rock with formations that I've never seen anywhere else.
Some days shit just goes wrong, and today was one of those days. Andy and I rolled into BCC for a post-work sesh that was going great until I opened my pack at the base of the day's first climb and realized that my harness wasn't in there. I had won the rock-paper-scissors to see who got to lead first, but given the fact that I had to tie a harness out of one of those ultra-thin Mammut cordalette-length runners, I offered the goods to my friend instead. Andy hiked the piss out of Weed Killer, and then I followed with my ghetto setup. Then we drove back to Andy's place, got his old harness which was only slightly too big for me, and drove to another crag to knock off a couple more pitches. There we found a group of people who had no business climbing outside, and after two routes we decided to relocate again rather than hang around and watch someone deck. The shitshowness continues for me throughout the day as I kept effing up small things and basically being the comic relief for Andy. It's really too bad Phunk wasn't there. He would have been in rare form for sure.
