Five tips for sending and a lifetime of happiness

Maple Canyon. Ahh Maple f#@%ing Canyon.

Cobbles, cobbles and more cobbles. Everywhere.

There is only one way to describe Maple: steep jug hauling. While I have not been gifted with many natural climbing gifts, I personally pride myself on my endurance and ability to cling to rock for absurd amounts of time. Yet almost immediately I found myself whipping big off jugs I could literally wrap my entire hand around. I would desperately and uselessly paw at the wall in front of me as the pump spread from my forearms to my entire upper body. And this was only at the third bolt!

Then I met Wendy. Wendy is a rad philanthropic consultant from New Mexico who has made a life out of traveling, climbing amazing rock and leaving the world a better place. On top of all this, she is also just a straight up badass.

Oh you know. Just being a badass and whatnot.

After witnessing my flailing, Wendy took it upon herself to improve one small part of the world once again and shared with me her some of the best advice I have ever heard for sending. These little tips are just too good to keep to myself so I've decided to share them with you below. Please enjoy and use these tips responsibly- with great sends comes great responsbility.

Wendy's Tips for Sending and a Lifetime of Happiness

1. Find the rests

Climbing smart is not just about having technique and pulling hard. Its also about knowing how and when to rest. Wendy was the queen of finding and exploiting rests, particularly immediately before and after cruxy sections. However, I learned the hard way that if you are going to use a knee bar rest, a knee pad may be ideal and in fact necessary, particularly if you have plans to wear shorts or a sun dress the next day.

Looks like hamburger meat...

2. Don't underestimate the "easy" parts

There is nothing more demoralizing than making your way through the crux on your project for the umpteenth time and whipping AGAIN in the easy "gimme" section. After witnessing me do this on my project and throw a proper wobbler, Wendy advised me to learn and rehearse the easy parts of a climb, particularly since they followed a pumpy, challenging section. She had me climb to each bolt of the upper section, clip and then lower and commit the moves for that part to memory. While I was initially hesitant to undertake this (rehearsing didn't feel like "climbing"), I immediately reaped the benefits when I sent on the next go.

The "easy" part of my project, 49

3. Commit to your beta

Now this is a "grass is always greener" kind of situation. While resting to try my climb again, I watched Wendy do a section of the climb in what appeared to be a much easier and more efficient way than I did. Although my beta felt solid, I decided on my next go to try it her way. Fail, fail, fail. I ended up wasting energy, pumping out, falling and cursing. If it ain't broke, don't fix it. At least if you are going for the send that go.

4. Avoid beta blinders

This tip goes hand-in-hand with #3. My project was right at my limit and as a result, I wrongfully thought "Well, 5.12 is hard for me so it should FEEL hard". One of the places I kept falling at initially was at the end of the crux, where I falsely and stubbornly believed I needed to lock off a high right hand crimper and make a big move to a jug rail. After falling on this move for the fifth time, Wendy quietly suggested I grab the side pull jug 6 inches up and right of the crimper. I easily made the moves after that. By assuming that moves should feel hard, I had turned a blind eye to better beta, such as only pulling on monster jugs.

All jugs are fine with me.

5. Celebrate your victories

Celebrating at the summit! (which we hiked, not climbed, to)

Climbing is fun. That's why we do it. I love to push myself, feel out my limits and then destroy them. But at the end of the day, I have built my life around this sport because of the way it makes me feel, the places it brings me and the people I meet. Sending is just that: "sending". My sends are essentially meaningless- they don't feed the hungry, provide employment or improve the world in any way. But trying hard, whether I get the climb or not, brings me to my physical and mental limits and that makes me feel alive and brings me joy. On my last attempt on 49, I truly felt at peace with whatever result the next 70 feet brought. I knew I had tried hard and had a blast with everyone doing it. In the end, I think that's all that matters.

The taste of victory is sweet. And delightfully hoppy,

Oh and as far as the advice on a lifetime of happiness goes, just substitute the "climb" with "life" and "climbing" with "living" in the above post and I think you should be off to a good start.

Water, friend or foe?

At a certain point on the road, things get turned upside down and the complicated becomes simple while the simple becomes slippery and elusive.  This portion of the blog will be titled, "WATER".  There will be chapters to better allow me to describe the distress caused by the lack of, keeping of and attaining of water.

Jugs

You are headed in to a canyon for days at a time where there is probably limited to no access to water.  You must stock up on water, and your 17 different sized, colored and decorated Nalgenes aren't going to cut it.  Two 5-gallon, collapsable, beautiful, blue water jugs are purchased.

What you don't see coming...is when two weeks in to your month-long trip, your beautiful, blue, water gallon begins deceiving you, leaking all over your car and quietly depriving you of your hard-earned water.  

Duct tape, shoe goo, positioning and towels were all tools of desperation
in trying to keep our water safe.

We fought to hold on.  We rationed our water.  We stored dirty dishes.  We begged the dogs to "finish your water!" so no drop was left behind.  We teetered on the brink of dehydration and now, they will be returned today, tantrum included.

Pumping

It becomes apparent that pumping water from a well in Ten Sleep, Wyoming is a cushy situation.  You drive to designated water pump tucked away in the beautiful canyon landscape.  You team up to pump and carry, pump and carry.  You accept it as a warm-up (or cool down) for the core to upper body parts.  Water is always just one, beautiful, old road away.  

In Maple Canyon, things changed.  Water was just slightly out of reach.  We would have to drive 25 minutes out of the canyon to the nearest town, Fountain Green, to refill our failing water jugs.  I felt slightly criminalistic as I slinked around the side of a closed gas station, in the dark, unscrewed a hose, and battled with a hand-pump to acquire our water.  (This was approved as a decent and acceptable activity by said gas station attendants previously in the week.)  We waged constant battle with keeping enough water for three people and two dogs who were hiking, climbing and sweating it out.

Showers

Showers.  Showers become this on-going joke.  You take pride in your ability to feel comfortably dirty.  You bathe in cold, mountain streams to the sounds of nature...and your companions shrieking and sucking in desperate breaths of air upon surfacing.  You use baby wipes on lazy days.  You point and laugh at each others discoloration.  

Then, all of a sudden, you are in a place where there are no mountain streams.  Just dirt.  Loose, flying in the air, sticking to your face, dirt.  The lack of showers slowly becomes less funny.  You become overjoyed at the finding of a small pipe spitting out one shockingly cold spout of water by your campsite.  You find yourself "splash-bathing" in the 6 inches of icy water.  

Then finally, 2.5 weeks later, the lack of a shower becomes unbearable.  You drive to a truck stop and pay the kind lady $10.00 to take a shower with all the other "professional drivers" on the road.  It really was quite nice.  I believe I was given the opportunity to jam to "Wild World" while taking my sweet $10.oo worth of time.

Flying J shower time

Rain

Opposite problem.  No water!  Keep the water OUT!  It rained something like 4 out of 5 nights at the start of our road trip.  Rain shells, tarps, running to the car.  We reversed our energy to avoid water at all costs.  Wet dogs (and wet people and their wet things) do not improve the interior of a tent or a Chevy Malibu.

A wet and shell-ed Meghan

Hydrate

Finally, we need water to drink.  But just when you expend all this energy to find water, pump water, carry water, bathe in water, and ration water...  suddenly it just seems easier to drink wine.

Or beer, if you're Derek.

Discovering the sport of "hiking" in the Sawtooths

I am not a particularly patient person by nature. I consider coffee a necessary food group, the mere mention of meditation makes me antsy and I like my yoga set to Lady Gaga.

I'm ready for my yoga session...

Given my love of stimulation, I am not the kind of person to ONLY go hiking. Don't get me wrong- I don't mind hiking to do other activities. If the end destination promises some sweet reward, such as an epic climbing spot, I'm all about it. Hiking simply to hike seems somewhat pointless to me- isn't it just walking with a nice view? Can we turn it into a trail run or throw a bike in there somehow?

Rifle Canyon in Colorado. Average approach time from car to climbing: 1 minute. Perfect.

However this summer I set a goal for myself: I would radically break my established pattern of staying in one place and solely climbing. Instead, I would expand my horizons and embark on other adventures- such as this "hiking" that many of my friends rave about. I was curious to see if this seemingly mundane activity could bring me the same fulfillment and high that I relish from my best days of climbing.

The destination: Sawtooth Lake in the Sawtooth Mountains of Idaho. Five miles of hiking promises dramatic views and not one but two pristine alpine lakes, nestled among soaring rock faces. Overconfident and dismissive of the difficulty of this "hiking" activity, we decided that a ten-mile round trip hike with a two thousand foot elevation gain sounded like a perfect rest day activity after three hard days of climbing.

Ok "hiking". Let's do this.

Observing the tradition of the alpine start, we set off from the trail head at the early hour of 1:30 pm. The five miles to Sawtooth Lake went quickly and was, dare I say, fun. The views along the entire hike were incredible and we found ourselves stopping almost constantly, trying to take in the immensity of it all. 

Lauren and Derek just taking in the view

The view of Alpine Lake on the way to Sawtooth Lake

Smoke from a distant forest fire looming over the Sawtooths

Our confidence grew as we passed elderly people, children and even infants. If they could do this "moderate" hike, surely we wouldn't even break a sweat. Around 4:30 pm we reached Sawtooth Lake. AMAZING. We spent about an hour in this unreal setting- marveling over the view, playing with the dogs in the snow and each taking a brief plunge into the frigid waters.

Sawtooth Lake

Preparing for the "refreshing" dip

Snow in the summer? Yes please!

Now there is a reason Ed Veisturs (mountaineering stud and the first American to climb all the 8,000 -meter peaks without supplemental oxygen) says "The summit is just a half way point." Granted our summit sat no higher than 2,600 meters, we were in no danger of cerebral edema and there wasn't a crevasse in sight. Despite this, the hike down proved to be the most difficult part of our trip thus far. The muscles in our legs locked up and we took to doing old soccer drills, such as karaokes to try to loosen them up. We brightened up whenever we saw a clearing up ahead through the trees, hoping it was the parking lot, only to find it was another meadow.

Dammit! Not another pristine alpine meadow!

Needless to say, "hiking" kicked my ass. I spent the next day groaning and stretching my legs across the dashboard as we made the 8-hour drive to Maple Canyon in Utah. I took to doing yoga at sketchy rest stops and gas stations while grizzled truckers stared at me.

However I found that when I wasn't grimacing in pain, I was grinning. I kept going through the photos on my camera until the battery died. I insisted on reliving the highlights of the hike with Lauren and Derek until they turned the music on the radio up louder to drown me out. When I closed my eyes that night, I saw the white puffs of cumulus clouds over the jagged peaks and felt the sudden punch of the cold glacial water.

There might be something to this "hiking" thing after all.

Post-hike red wine and fire. STILL my favorite part.

We've hijacked the computer.  We need your help.  We're speaking from the sidewalk of Bozeman, Montana.  We're G.D. hostages out here!  Please <bark> listen!!

They took us from our home, shoved us in a small moving home with wheels, then let us loose in the wild.

We had to train to get our strength up.  We have to be ready to fend off the coyotes threatening our lives in the Wyoming night.  It smells like cows.  Sometimes they leave just one of us behind!  We think it's some sort of mental training.  DisGUSTing.

All we do is train.  We climb up.  They hang from ropes.  We climb down.  We climb up.  Then down, up, down, up, down.  What is the PURpose?!

No matter what we do, how we beg, the tears we shed...they continue to kidnap us in this small moving home.  We even left a threat at their feet this morning.  They laughed.  They LAUGHED and simply disposed of the remains.  Heartless creatures...

We continue to train on our own.

We've changed our diet, to survive in the wilderness, to long greens, fresh dirt and identifiable leaves.

But we're tired.

We're confused and we're in dire need of your help.  We're trying to lay low, plot our next move.

We heard them talking about a Sawtooth or something.  An Idaho.  It might be our next home.  Please look it up.  Find us there.  HELP US!

Sincerely,

Maggie-f@#%ing-May
              &
     Luka Thunder

FIRST STOP: Ten Sleep, Wyoming

THIS PLACE IS CHOSS. DON'T GO HERE. PLEASE SEE BELOW.

Rock fall...?

Now I know that probably only three people total read this blog (thanks for reading Mom!)- and given the above photo, only two of you have probably continued reading to this point. You will now be rewarded for your persistence and blind, unwarranted faith in my blogging abilities so both of you listen up- this place is, to quote the guidebook, “the buttery sickness”. 

Mmm... so buttery...

Located outside the tiny “town” of Ten Sleep (where the elevation is higher than the population) are miles and miles of pristine bighorn dolomite. Driving through the canyon is like watching a real life magic eye unfolding before your eyes. There is free camping, which is stellar as long as you can forgo running water and don’t mind bringing bug spray and a shovel on your morning trips to the bathroom. The locals and the other climbers who make the trip out are friendly and laidback. Showers are available at the RV park in town for $5, although we opted for a little Bronner’s and the free freezing waters of Ten Sleep Creek instead. The Second Street Bakery in town has great food and caffeinated beverages- but whatever you do, DON’T EAT MEXICAN IN WYOMING. I am fairly certain there are no actual Mexicans in Wyoming. At least none that can cook.

I will serenade you while you bathe down by the river.

 Now for the climbing. Ahhhh the CLIMBING. While I am looking forward to the next stops on our cross-country adventure, I literally had to be dragged kicking and screaming from Ten Sleep this year. I am more hooked on that place than ever and I have no doubt I will be back in the near future. If you are interested in going to Ten Sleep, I would highly recommend purchasing the guidebook and reading it cover to cover. It’s a sick, demented and hilarious religious handbook with occasional references to rock climbing. In the meantime, we’ve decided to give you a highlight reel of each of our favorite climbs from this past week. Enjoy.

Lauren: Thor 5.10b at the World Domination Wall

A little Greek god loving is all Lauren needs

 Completely and utterly classic. A little face climbing gives way to a fun crack with a combination of underclings and laybacks and then a headwall. Tall, aesthetic with great positioning. Did I mention CLASSIC? Lauren’s “game changer”.

Derek: Jesus Christ Super Jew 5.10d at Metropolis

What exactly can I jam into this crack....?

Starts with a hand and foot jam crux right off the deck. Don’t worry though- the fun and groveling doesn’t end there. Let go of your pride and skin as you thrust and torque every appendage into the crack. Feels more like trad climbing than sport (no wonder it was Derek’s favorite). Although you’ll be all up in that crack, don’t forget to look around- the view of the canyon from this climb is spectacular.

Me: Cocaine Rodeo 5.12a at Valhalla

Cocaine. My drug of choice.

Crux, rest, crux, rest, headwall, hallucinate. Any description I write of this climb will not do it justice so please refer to the guidebook description below:

After an AMAZING time at Ten Sleep, I can’t wait to see what is next for the three of us. We only left Wyoming a day ago and already we’re had some incredible locally raised and brewed burgers and beers, played with a domesticated lobster named Nudles and slept under the Montana stars.

For now, I leave you with Nudles.

Why the heck does the lobster get the chicken??