Hueco Unrestricted

   The Texas sky is brightest two days before the full moon.  It’s possible to walk without a head lamp, to see hundreds of boulders in the dark, and to climb on any of the thousands of problems.  Easy access. Ideal temps. A nearly perfect situation.   This winter, I stared at the boulders, wanting to venture into the night, wondering what Hueco would be like unrestricted.

On my second trip to Hueco, I tore my MCL falling on this classic John Sherman boulder problem. On our last climbing day in Hueco, I finally sent See Spot Run, an amazing V6.

Located 32 miles northeast of El Paso, Texas, Hueco Tanks hosts thousands of high caliber boulder problems in a condensed area. Low, steep terrain allows many of the cruxes to be worked easily; a top down approach to the boulders can be used versus a ground up style.  The large smooth holds keep skin intact so failure becomes an issue of muscle failure.  These factors amount to an easily accessible way to become strong quickly.  Hueco Tanks is a bouldering mecca.

For twenty years, from the late seventies to late nineties, climbers roamed free about Hueco Tanks State Park (HTSP).  Below John Sherman’s See Spot Run, I spoke with Rick Olivier, a climber who has spent the last twenty four winters climbing in Hueco.  “Before the 98 new user plan there was a 300 car limit,” said Rick. “You could bring your dog, play your boom box. Go wherever you wanted.”

Drew Schick works through Whisper of Mortality

From 1989 to 1992, Hueco experienced a Golden Age.  The staff happily permitted cars into the park.  The three svenite mountains, which are separated into four distinct climbing locations: North, East and West Mountains and the East Spur, saw an influx of climbers.  They bolted new routes, the park stayed open until ten pm and the world’s best descended upon the small Texas park.  The steep and powerful climbing provided a huge attraction for any climber wanting to get stronger. 


Brian Hedrick dispatches Alma Blanca- v13

In the height of it all came the Tortilla Syndrome. James Crump, who in 1985 co-authored the first guidebook to Hueco Tanks Indian Height, described the term in Jeff Jackson’s 2000 Climbing article “Then and Now.”  “In the mid 80s the professional climbers discovered Hueco and they had to eat. Had to have their big-number, new-5.13 cover shot.”    Crump blaimed Todd Skinner and his “cronies” for illegally bolting in Hueco, over developing the area and creating anomisity between the park staff and climbers.

 “We were putting up routes as outsiders and that was tweaking the locals. The locals were talking to the rangers so the rangers started tweaking too. The locals made it clear that we weren’t on their team,” said Skinner in the Jackson article. “And, of course, we were bolting.” Skinner said in the Jackson article. “The official position was that bolting was illegal.  The bolts themselves were legal. So, if some unknown person got the bolts into the rock at night, then you could legally climb the route the next morning.”  Skinner and company devised a system with lights to warn each other of approaching rangers.  They got caught though. 

Skinner claimed the bickering between climbers had little to do with the park restrictions.  “Alex Mares (the former head ranger) wants the place as a church. He’s got that holy-war look in his eyes. And the rock-art people want it as a museum.” 

Peter Michaux on the classic and difficult Double Vision V7 on North Mountain

The number of park visitors peaked in the early 1990s. “There were 150,000 people a year,” said current park Superindentent Wanda Olszewski, “which was definitely unsustainable.”   The impact on the park’s vegetation, the thousands of trails popping up, were more obvious than the bolts that climbers were taking a toll on Hueco.

In 1998, The Texas State Park and Wildlife Department increased restrictions.  TSPWD created seventy spots on North Mountain (initially there were fifty spots), allowing sixty spots to be reserved up to ninety days in advance.  The remaining ten spots are left for walk-ins on a first-come, first-serve basis with Hueco Tanks campground members given preference.  In the areas of East Mountain, West Mountain, and the East Spur, an additional 160 people are allowed to climb but they need to be accompanied by a guide.  Guide services fluctuate between $2 and $25 depending on the nature of the tour.

Kyle O'Meara works on Loaded with Power

When the restrictions fell, many of the old vanguard left.  Long time locals like Todd Skinner, Scott Milton, John Sherman, Matt Samet and escaped the new rules. “For me, given how free Hueco once was, how you could just wander around in the park on rest days hanging out, exploring caves, looking for pictographs, not having to go to Barnes and Noble in El Paso to kill time, it was awesome back then,” said Matt Samet, who climbed there for a few seasons prior to the 98 restrictions and then again post restrictions. “In 1999 and 2000, the experience was so different from what it had been that I realized I was done with Hueco.”

There was little love for the new regulations.  “We certainly can’t call the new Site management plan progress, as it stifles the freedom of exploration, but one good thing came out of it: People took what they learned about bouldering possibilities at Hueco Tanks and they explored other areas, and new bouldering spots were developed.,” said long time Hueco climber Scott Milton.  “That, at least, is progress.”

Dean's Trip, a classic and hard V5

The number of climbers visiting the park dropped significantly. According to the Jackson article, in 1986 there were 85,000 climbers.  In 2000, a few years after the regulations, there were 17,000. “Climbers are a free spirit group,” said Ricky Olivier. “I would say most climbers don’t want to simply deal with the bureaucracy to come in and out of the park. It’s not free to go where you want as it is in other climbing areas.” 

Kim Groebner sending the classic Baby Martini

The restrictions affected the local El Paso folks.  Jumping through the hoops to get into the park became a huge detriment to the families that wanted to picnic for the day or  walk around their local state park.  The number of local visitors decreased significantly.  The focus of the park changed. 

Park management wanted visitors to see the history of the park.  The park flexed its desire to show the amazing pictographs.  “When climbers get interested in the pictographs, they start to see the park in a whole new way,” said Superindentent Olszewski. “They realize that if all they’ve done here is climb, it’s like going to Disney world and riding one ride and going home. You’re not getting the whole picture.”

Kim Groebner hikes the chains

Two years ago, Mary Bocchicchio became the second rock art/climbing guide, and the only current one. The rock art changed her view of the park. “Now when I spend time in the park – I constantly think of those who came through hunting Mammoths or growing beans in the fields.”  She reiterated the park’s view on management. “Hueco Tanks is a HISTORIC site, first and formost. The #1 priority of the park and its staff is to protect the artifacts and pictographs that were left there by Native Americans from 150 to over 10,000 years ago.””

The Jornada mogollion were a Native American group that traveled the American Southwest from AD 150 to AD 1400 

Signs and posts driven into the rock, mark the few areas to protect the ancient history.  In some of the closed areas, a protective crust covers the ground keeping the archaeology intact.  The ground in areas like the Mushroom Boulder, which received enormous amounts of foot traffic and crash pad shuffling, eroded away and exposed midden soil, areas rich in Indian artificats and debris. In other areas like the famous 45 Degree Wall, ancient petroglyphs cover the rock.   

A Sign nailed into the rock above a boulder problem on North Mountain

“Human beings get attracted to the same sort of places over the course of time,” noted Oliewski. “Those exact same overhangs that are attractive for climbing because of the angle are the ones that people hung out underneath years and years ago prehistorically.”  In the Jackson article, Bill Dolman, who worked as part of the management team overseeing the TPWD restrictions implementation, reported on an archaeological study in late ninties “We found that because of the extent of (earlier) human occupation almost no part of the park did not have significant sub-surface archaeological resources.”

Honnold came out and hiked my project.  After seven weeks, I made it to the second hold. The next day we went climbing, he hiked Fern Roof.  After a couple hours, I sent the problem too.  "How hard do you think that is Alex?" I asked about the suspiciously soft V10. "Well, when I first did it, I called it V8.  Today, I thought it was more like V7," he responded. "but then after seeing you do it, I'd say it was more like V6."

Dollman also spoke about the TPWD official position. “Well the long and short of it is that we’ve come to the conclusion that the climbing needs to be managed to the extent that we can protect the archaeological and rock art resources.” Oliewski’s management of the park continues with the same idea of preservation first and climbing second, to treat Hueco as an “outdoor museum,” a stance that finds little favor with climbers.

White Devil pictograph

Ann Raber, a first year guide who has spent the winters climbing in Hueco since 2009,  voiced many climber’s concerns about the management program. “The park management pays a lot of lip service to climber's rights as a user group, but I can't shake the sense that there are people with a lot of say in the matter who want this place to be a museum, to be observed without touching.”

Jason Kehl, voiced a similar idea.  Kehl arrived in Hueco in 1995 and 1996, before the restrictions.  After the1998 changes, he stopped climbing in the park.  Kehl, now in his third year of guiding, returned a few years later when he heard the restrictions still allowed for climbing.   “I think the restrictions are bad for climbing, but good for Hueco Tanks. This is a special place besides the climbing and we must protect it.” 

Jason Kehl found this boulder problem a few years ago. Bloodlines sits in a corridor near the summit of North Mountain. Kehl has spear headed much of the new development in Hueco.

John Sherman “There had always been limitations on visitation and something had to be done,” Sherman said in the Jackson article. “For example, the base of the Three Star Arete used to be dirt; now it’s rocky. The desert root systems at Hueco are really shallow. Tromp too many people over them and they’ll die.” 

The restrictions, the decrease in climbers, helped much vegetation to regrow, for the thousand trails to become single destignated paths and the park to return to its natural state, certainly in the back country.  In unregulated bouldering areas like Bishop, California, climbers step in gum at the crag, dogs fight below popular areas, and overcongestion can be a huge problem.  These problems don’t exist in Hueco because of the restrictions.  These are the good parts about the restrictions.  There are also bad aspects.

Kim Groebner gets Nobody's Funky on East Mountain

The largest problem revolves around the park’s open and closing times and the back country guide program.  Temperatures and day light hours change dramatically over the course of the year but the 8 am to 6 pm park hours remain stagnant. Moses Potter, a first year guide and six year Hueco climber, added some of the problems with the guiding. “Were I to taste the climbing of Hueco for the first time under the current restrictions I would think the experience sucks, frankly. It can be very difficult to get in the park during peak season and during weekends, it costs $20 per day to climb off of North Mountain, which is prohibitively expensive for the shoestring-budgeted twenty-something, and you have to be able to negotiate the bureaucratic process in the front office. Having to leave the boulders by 5:30pm, so you can be clear of the locked gate by 6pm, is an added distraction from the experience. In short, the place lacks the kind of freedom that most of us climbers associate with the lifestyle of the climber.”

Moses Potter catches the sunset after working My Life in a Tank

Further, development in Hueco has been stifled to a great degree.  The necessity of going with a guide “stifles the freedom of exploration.”   “Newness and progression are important for any athletic pursuit,” said Potter, “and the stifling of that in Hueco is 100% due to the restrictions, not a dearth of quality rock or the strength of the climbers present.”

 

On my last day in Hueco, Nik Berry and I climbed the Melon Patch Extension- The two pitch route, Sea of Holes was established in the early Hueco days.  Mike Head and others used to regularly free solo this 5.10 route.  We climbed it on a cold morning.  Our finger froze grabbing the rock. Hueco's beginnings were on routes like this.  Now, seeing a roped climber is a rare sight.

At times, the park seems over enthusiastic about the regulations. This year at our Hueco Tanks State Park camp site, we received a notification threatening a fine if we parked off the pavement at our campsite.   While at the front desk, a group of rock art hunters came in for the 10:30 rock art tour.  They had driven past the entrance officer at the gate.  The front desk informed them they needed to return to the gate and check in with the entrance officer.  In fifteen minutes, they went to the gate and returned to the office.  The front desk person then asked them what they wanted to do.  When they told her they wanted to go to the 10:30 rock art tour, the group was informed that they had missed the tour by fifteen minutes and there would not be another until the following week.

One of the biggest draw for climbers was the Hueco Rock Rodeo. Every year, Melissa Strong and other locals organize a competition.  The Rodeo attracts climbers from across the globe and brought the largest crowds that we saw during out 7 week stay in Texas.

“That climbers are now arriving in search of something different is to be expected, and that my version of paradise is lost does not make their own less glorious,” said Todd Skinner.

Nik Berry reaches

I barely need my headlamp under the bright Texas moon.  I toe the edge of the campsite boundary.  To step forward would be to break the rules, to jeporadize access, to affirm TPWD’s position that the park should be an “outdoor museum.”   Stepping back would keep Hueco Tanks safe for another day.  Access would be secure until something happened, until another petroglyph was discovered or more artificats were found in the midden soil.  Stepping back would mean I could climb tomorrow.  Who knows about the next day.   Potter’s words about the restrictions echoed in my head, “These climbs are a precious resource, and the history of climbing is slowly being written out of Hueco Tanks. Once we lose Hueco, if we lose Hueco, we will have lost the standard by which all other bouldering in the world is compared.”

To move forward or move back?   I turn off my headlamp and step.

Sittin Tall in the Saddle

photos by Mikey Schaefer

I slumped in my seat and fixated on the rocks, the projects behind us.  Mikey left an enormous first ascent on Yosemite’s Middle Cathedral unfinished.  I left behind working on free climbing El Capitan.  Mikey and I met in Salt Lake City.   We drove seven hours east towards the middle of Wyoming.  We drove to sit tall in the saddle. 

Sitting at the western base of the Big Horn Mountains, the town of Ten Sleep promises a different sort of excitement than just the buffalo leather moccasins sold at Dirty Sally’s general store. The Great Plains, the grass and uneven cattle country, fills the desititute land to the east but the Bighorn Dolomite, the 450 million year old Ordocian era limestone outside of Ten Sleep, promised a chance to improve our crushed egos.  For 21 days, we’d climb, clip bolts, and have fun. I pushed myself further up in the passenger seat of Mikey’s van. 

“We’ll climb two different 5.12s every day we climb. Let’s aim for 20.  Then we can have a couple extra days if we fail to make the daily quota.” I scowered 8a.nu, Mountain Project, to find the softest rated climbs at the pocketed Wyoming crags. 

“Ok Coach,” Mikey parked the sprinter in front of one of Ten Sleep’s three bars.  The vacation started.

The early Wyoming trappers called the large Indian camp on the Platter River, the Old Sioux Camp. On the Clark’s Fork River, where Bridger Montana is today, sat another Indian camp.  When the Indians traveled between the Old Sioux camp and the Clark’s Fork Camp they rested at a small field below the Big Horns.  They measured distances in sleeps, and the grass lands located between the two camps was known as Ten Sleep, a town of three bars, a gas station and 260 people.   We camped outside of town on an old forest service road close to the crags.  We met with four other climbers from Smith Rocks and Grass Valley-Tara, Sara, Tori, and Daniel.

On the first route of our trip, Mikey stepped carefully on Green Gobs of Greasy Grimey Greenie Guts (5.10a) a no star, offensively sharp route on the right side of the Shinto Wall.  The hot limestone baked in the sun.  Mikey failed to make our first route in Ten Sleep seem easy.  I had a sudden moment of panic.  What if the routes in Ten Sleep weren’t soft? 

“I’m just gonna toprope the route,” I said, suddenly intimidated. 

“Oh really?” Mikey looked at me and then pulled the rope.  I groaned and climbed the route, barely making it to the anchors.
 

The next route felt easier.  The route after that was easier still.  We climbed a few more 5.10 pitches at the French Cattle Ranch.  I onsighted a 5.12b and a 12a, grades I rarely do well on.  Mikey just hiked the climbs.  Maybe we’d be ok.  We needed to climb two 5.12s a day.  We just needed to stay on track.  It seemed like a modest goal but Ten Sleep is a dangerous place.

On April 2, 1909 Joe Allemand, laid face up with bullet holes in his neck and side, the spots where deadly soft-nosed missiles took his life. In the charred still-smoking embers of the wagons rested heavily two burnt bodies, Allemand’s partner Joseph Emge and one of the other three hired hands Allemand had employed to help heard the sheep along Spring Creek and past Ten Sleep. The occurrences of that evening marked the pinnacle of the Wyoming Sheep Wars, a series of fights between cattlemen and shepherds in which fifty-four men were killed and 75,000 sheep were slaughtered.   The cattlemen claimed the sheep men over grazed the land, that the sharp hooves of the sheep cut the grass to a point where it failed to grow back.  That spring night, a group of eight-mask cattlemen attacked Allemand his companions for leading nearly 10,000 head of sheep across the Ten Sleep Creek.  Allemand crossed the deadline, their flock into cattle land.  The cattlemen killed Allemand and two other shepherds, they drenched his wagons in kerosene, and they slaughtered 25 of his sheep. Sheep raiders had never been prosecuted in Wyoming before and many locals believed the murders would escape justice.   However, the deputies arrested Charles Farris, Albert Keyes, Herbert Brink, Ed Eaton, George Saban, the owner of the Bay State Cattle Company, known for leading the lunch mob that raided the Big Horn County jail in 1903, where two prisoners and a deputy sheriff were killed, Tommy Dixon, and Milton Alexander for the crimes and five of the men served time in jail.   The convictions put an end to the open range killings and marked the arrival of law and order in the Great Plains.  Certainly, the law arrived in Ten Sleep.  The order part was more questionable.

On the 4^th of July, Ten Sleep closed the main street.  Drunken locals changed the sign below the town’s only gas station. The pulled down ORV hamburgers from one side and wrote “Obama Serves hamburgers” on the other side. On the stage in front of Dirty Sally’s emporium, The Whiskey Tabernacle Choir sang, “I was drunk the day my mom got out of prison. And I went to pick her up in the rain.”  Mikey stood by the mechanical bull snapping pictures of the contenders.  A sea of plaid shirts, boots, and ten gallon hats sang. “But before I could get to the station in my pickup truck/ she got runned over by a damned old train.” With that line, Mikey grabbed the hand of a cute blonde.  He slung his camera behind his back. They danced and laughed for an hour and a half. 

The next day of climbing someone forgot to fall.  After drafting, flashing a few routes that I hung draws on, Mikey sauntered to the base of Crown Prince Abdullah (5.12d).  He screamed through the first difficult boulder problem, hung on for the pumpy middle, and high stepped to the anchor with an impressive amount of strength.  Mikey lowered from the difficult route, having sent 4 other 5.12 routes that day. Mikey’s confidence sparked and ignited.

“We are checking and make sure you weren’t having a fire,” the National forest land employee said that evening. “This canyon is a chimney and my house sits right on the top.  We haven’t had dry weather like this since 1988 when Yellowstone burned up. I don’t want to be sitting in a cloud of smoke.”  

On the fifth of July, Aaron Huey, dressed in a sheepskin vest, spoke from the summit of a limestone block in the boulder campground on the Old Road. Huey was Moses on Mount Sinai.  “In the beginning there were no bolts and the earth was dark. On the eighth day God created Bighorn Dolomite and expansion bolts, and the heavens rejoiced!” Two dozen climbers cried out at Huey’s declaration “He shaped a hammer drill from clay and said ‘Behold the Bosch. Redeemer of man!’” The climbers raised their red keg cups in cheers, spilling IPA.  

The fire ban in Ten Sleep prevented Huey from his normal annual barbeque, where he drenches chicken in his Grandma Bunny’s Solid Gold Secret Sauce. Instead there was a potluck.  Climbers brought cherries and beer, rice and beans, empty plates and hungry stomachs. In the laboratory of his sprinter, Mikey filled pot of chicken sausage, vegetables, rice and beans, and than dosed the gumbo with Slap Yo Mama spices.  At the party, a group of climbers stood around a pile of Christmas lights in the fire pit, staring at the flickering lights.  It was probably the Slap Yo Mama that made a few of climbers jump over the makeshift fire. DANGER.  I watched the drunken climbers for a moment before finding other entertainment, my favorite kind- lying to drunken people.

“As soon as my residence is over, I’m taking a charity position with a Cuban hospital.  There are thousands of young people who need help from western medicine.” I explained to a drunk Boulder girl. I detailed my break from my neurosurgery rotation at San Francisco State Hospital and my imminent return to a higher calling. “Think of how much good I’ll be doing by performing free lobotomies on teenagers.” 

“That’s nice,” the girl said. “You’re doing so much for the world. Where did you do your undergrad?”

“Columbia,” I responded. “Of course.”

I scanned the crowd for Mikey, excited to introduce him as the jockey who won the recent Kentucky Derby.  I wanted to hear him talk about being crouched low, how he was winning these days, sending hard, dancing with cute girls, how even as a jockey he sat tall in the saddle.

I saw him off in the corner in a deep conversation with a girl.  I wouldn’t need to wingman.

 “Liquid Rainbow!” a drunk Boulder girl snapped my attention away from Mikey.  Earlier, I’d told Drunk Boulder Girl Number 2 that shiny was my favorite color. She’d shoved me violently at the suggestion. “Shiny is not a color!” she screamed for the fifth time.

Her obstinacy cued my exit.  She called too much attention to me. I was sure one of the Colorado sport climbers would find out that I wasn’t Wolfgang Gullich soon.  I could be a victim of a lynch mob.  I saw Mikey still talking with the girl, smiled to myself, and retreated to camp.

We warmed up at the Slavery Wall a few days later.  The steep pockets served as a great place to practice our more gymnastic maneuvers.  I red pointed a couple of 5.12s that Mikey hiked a few days prior.  Mikey tried EKV, the most popular 5.12c at the Slavery Wall and one of the few Ten Sleep routes that deserved the grade.  He fell on the onsight and his next attempt and his next try and the try after that. The girl at the 5^th of July party hadn’t been talking with him; she’d been talking at him.  He’d hoped that I would come save him but I’d disappeared that night.  He’d gone for an epic hike in the mountains hoping to cleanse himself of too much vodka.  Mikey failed on EKV.  He fell on Screaming Night Hog, a one-move 5.12c.  He wobbled.   The right words failed to come out of my mouth.  I wanted to reassure him, make my friend feel better, and give him some confidence.  I hoped consistency would pay.  The next day we went climbing, we’d do our two 5.12s.  We’d send.  I hoped.  At the very least, we were having an adventure, especially if we considered the kids camping with us.

 “I’m gonna go to the bathroom and see how much of a shower I can take,” Daniel Jordan said as he walked into the coffee shop bathroom.  None of us were clean.  Dust covers the cowboys when they walk into the Ten Sleep saloon.  We walked in with entire clouds of dirt.  The bathing options come down to the shallow and cold river, the greasy bottomed Meadow Lark Lake, or the Ten Broek RV Park.  The latter offers warm showers and a decent facility but at the excessive price of $8. 

Over coffee, Tara read excerpts of the mommy porn book Fifty Shades of Grey.  Sara and Tori listened raptly to the BDSM relationship between innocent college student Anastasia Steele and the older darker millionaire Christian Grey. She opened to the well-creased page 137 and read, ““I pull him deeper into my mouth so I can feel him at the back of my throat and then to the front again. My tongue swirls around the end. He’s my very own Christian Grey-flavored Popsicle. I suck harder and harder … Hmm … My inner goddess is doing the merengue with some salsa moves.”

Mikey, Daniel, and I looked at each other awkwardly. The morning erotica and the strong estrogen presence of the three women overwhelmed us.  I missed my lady friend, Kim, back home. She provided stability and the consistency I needed in my life. Daniel put his backpack in front of his lap and walked away. Mikey and I packed our bags to head to the crag that day. 

That day, Mikey got back on track.  Two 5.12s went down again.  I pointed him towards Hellion, a 5.13c route at the Super Erratic.  The route begins with a couple of bolts of mellow climbing followed by a difficult boulder problem.  From the end of a hard windmill move the climbing stays consistent. Mikey’s power helped him find the correct sequence for the crux, linking the hard moves would be the true difficulty for him though.

We sat down in our makeshift living room that night.  Early in the trip, I rolled a few enormous logs from across the road up into camp.  The girls had found a few long branches.  Sara braided Tara’s core shot rope into the branches.  We had a couch.  Daniel bought tiki lamps to kill the mosquitos.  We sat at dinner.  Mikey and I enjoyed our dinner.  We ate well on the trip.  Where the kids ate Snicker’s ice cream bars for dinner, we had hot roast beef sandwiches on toasted ciabbatta bread with a stout mustard, avocado and a side of corn on the cob.  Baller.

“I’m gonna have desert,” Daniel said after polishing off a burrito filled with beans and more beans. 

“Does anyone else want a Christian Grey Popsicle?”

The days ticked off and so did the routes.  Mikey and I were executing our plan.  We both hit 20 5.12s and we had a few more days of climbing to go.  We aimed for 25.  I wanted to send Kyberspace (5.13a), Burden of Immortality, (5.12d) and Crown Prince Abdullah, (5.12d).  Mikey set his sights on Hellion.  I fought through Kyberspace, while Mikey worked on Hellion.  After we warmed up on Napoleon’s High Chair (5.12a), I dispatched Burden and we went to Hellion.

The send of the trip definitely went to Mikey.  After a dry fire on Hellion, Mikey pulled his boots back on.  He climbed smoothly to the crux windmill move, stuck it and then started to fight.  Screams echoed across the Super erratic cliff when he hit the next sequence.  A few climbers walked towards the base.  Mikey shook out, stared at the redpoint crux and yelled.  Sara, Tara, and Tori cheered him on.  He barely latched each hold.  He eked through to the “easy” exit climbing. “Come on Mikey!” “Go Mikey!” “You can do it!” The three cheerleaders cried.  Mikey fought every move and finally clipped the anchors.  The entire crag let out a cheer.  I even swooned a little.

We packed the van with a bottle of Smirnoff, some grapefruit juice, a couple of beers, the girls and Mikey and I.  It was my last night in Ten Sleep.  Tara would leave the next day as well.  Daniel had flown home already. Mikey laughed and wiggled his toes, which Sara had painted a deep purple. The walls wobbled from side to side.     Mikey said something funny.  I laughed.  The girls giggled along with us Music drowned the pattering rain. Mikey and I finished the last of the vodka.

“It’s been a good trip,” I said when the girls had left.  “You climbed well. We both did.”

Mikey nodded.   I slid the door open. The Wyoming stars streaked across the sky.  I passed out in my tent, happy to have such a good time in Ten Sleep, and anticipating going home to California, to my girlfriend.

My bags dropped in the parking lot of the Cody Wyoming airport.  I hugged Mikey.  The trip had been great for me.  I’d climbed well, sending 26 different 5.12s and 50 routes all-together. I got some of the fitness I needed to make another effort on El Cap. Mikey sent his hardest sport climb ever during the trip. We executed our goals. Mikey drove away, I saw his figure in the driver’s seat of the Sprinter.  Mikey sat tall in the saddle.

Improving in Climbing

Everyone wants to improve, to excel at their passion.

I dream of free climbing enormous walls. For the past ten years I’ve worked towards these goals.

My early climbing focused on getting up walls in Yosemite.  Ascents of Washington’s Column, the Leaning Tower, Half Dome, and El Cap all came together quickly.  Aid climbing involved a bit of gear and a lot of tenacity.  By purchasing the former and easily supplying the latter, I learned to dial my systems.  With my aid climbing skills in place, I focused on improving my free climbing enough to make free ascents.  My early climbing improved quickly.

Double Rainbow over Jailhouse- What does it mean?

I learned to crack climb, to clip bolts, and then to redpoint hard traditional lines using a combination of the two skills.  Improving my climbing skills slowed while my goals expanded.

The theme of improvement runs through the climbing community. Everyone wants to climb their best.  Alex Honnold voiced identical concerns.  When I asked if he had any clues on improvement, he laughed in response, saying, “I wish. I’ve been worrying about the same thing. I've basically been climbing 13+ for a decade.”

Cosmic Debris

Hitting plateaus presents an inevitable challenge in climbing. What can be done to break through? Train harder, remain positive, get motivated… Cedar Wright’s suggested something totally different. “I do have some advice on how to improve at climbing... move to Boulder... The water here makes you stronger.”  My attempt to move to Boulder stopped when my Saturn Station wagon aborted mission at Fruita Colorado. I returned my Saturn to California’s orbit.   Boulder water scares me but perhaps the mountain folks are clued into some tips towards improvement. 

For some, breaking through plateaus takes time.  Beth Rodden addressed the challenges of improving at climbing.  “I think it's just best to take it as it comes and be psyched with little victories and not let the other things get you down.”  The gains in climbing definitely shrink but slow and steady optimism helps through the slough.

Working Public Mayhem photo by the person with the huge watermark

For others, it’s about finding the correct motivation.  “There are many ways to improve on climbing, like training, weight loss,” said Randy Leavitt. “But I think the most important thing is motivation. I had lots of it because I loved doing new routes…. I found that I was more inspired to try hard and raise my game when new routes were involved.”

Clay Usinger on a boulder problem Stanley, Kenny, Clay and I put up behind Camp 4 this December Last of the Miwok v6

Luis “Lucho” Rivera added a similar note, ”I don’t really train, i just go climbing and try to have fun. What inspires me more than anything is new routing.”

  

Finding new routes in winter provides a challenge. Winter presents short days and poor weather in Yosemite, a hard time for first ascents.  Since my Yosemite season started this fall, I have struggled with climbing harder.  I track my ascents on an 8a score card, which is slowly thinning. In November, I came close to sending Cosmic Debris.  Bad weather shut me down.  Through December, I worked on bouldering harder and climbing at Jailhouse. I’ve had few successes this winter.  Still, in some small ways I must be improving. 

Walking out from Jailhouse

A few more days of Jailhouse and then I’m heading to Hueco for a couple weeks.  I’m hoping to send something before I leave, to find some sort of improvement in my climbing.

I like climbing.  I really like climbing well.  I do the former all the time.  It’s about making the latter happen all the time as well.  Then, I’ll be exceling at my passion and meeting some of my dreams.