A Week in Joshua Tree
I opened my eyes and peaked at the clock to see that it was almost 7 am. I lied down again for an extra thirty minutes of rest and opened my van door just as Ima opened the window to his van. “What up big dawg” is what I heard, and I proceeded to the bathroom after we exchanged the classic questions, “How did you sleep?” To which we both responded to positively. These days, it’s typically been at least 9 to 10 hours of sleep each night with the occasional party night where eight hours may be in the cards. I stared at my battered hands and fingers, which looked particularly messed up due to two large new blisters on my two of my fingertips from a burn the previous night. I debated cutting them open but decided it wasn’t necessary. I took my morning dump and started to get ready at a leisurely pace. Zach was going to arrive at 8:30 and I while we had never really climbed together, I got the vibe that he wouldn’t be late.
I first met Zach a couple weeks ago in Red Rocks Nevada. Our mutual friend Amy convinced Ima and I to venture out there for a few days and we managed to get a camp spot at the main campground a short distance from Amy and Zach for half price due to Ima’s “access” national parks pass. The four of us climbed together for four days and had an awesome time. On day one, we linked up around 10 am in the campground, got a late start and managed to climb a route on Mt. Wilson called Inti Watana, finishing on the resolution Arete. We started the route after noon, topped out almost three thousand feet of climbing before sunset, and hiked back down to the car in the dark. Ima and I also completed a pushup pyramid on the summit and made dinner for the bunch once we got back.
I made myself a scramble with five eggs, cheese, spinach, an avocado, tomatoes, cilantro, and hot sauce. It was bomb, and I finished just at Zack showed up… Right at 8:30 I believe. We had a quick discussion about what to climb and as soon as I suggested the Olympic Dome, it was settled. Zach walked back to the parking area to take a poop and I finished cleaning up and joined him at his car. I hopped in and we headed straight to the Desert Queen Mountain parking area. I had been to the Desert Queen area in December 2019 with Peter, and I recall it being one of my favorite days of climbing. This time though, we were planning to head to an entirely different area.
Zach took the lead on the approach, and we quested off, veering on and off the trail. We eventually made our way to a high point on the side of the mountain and up over a little pass, only having to backtrack once. We branched out into another wash per instructions in the guidebook and I somehow managed to spot the not so obvious formation from a decent distance away. Just getting to the base took over ninety minutes at a quick pace. The last 10 minutes or so required some heinous bushwhacking and exposed scrambling. We got to the base and found a large perfectly flat boulder to use as a staging area.
The first pitch of the day was a 10c crack called Icon. I threw scissors, thereby beating Zach’s paper, so I started to rack up. I generally prefer to use my gear, but we had Zach’s and it would be my first time ever using the new Alien cams. They looked pretty sweet, and they certainly were. I climbed well, placing several pieces from .4” to 4” on an eighty-foot-long pitch which felt like something more out of Yosemite Valley than Joshua Tree. It was a continuous, gently overhanging, and slightly slippery crack that was mostly hand sized.
Just to the left of Icon is a prominent buttress with a heavily featured and steep face. On the face lies a route called Back Diamond which climbs patina edges and contains only six bolts for the full eighty foot length. The route would certainly warrant and R (run out) rating in just about any other climbing area but in Josh, no such R follows the 12b rating stated in the guidebook. However, if Mountain Project is consulted, the spiciness level is discussed along with the classic entries of Josh old timers discussing the history of the first ascent. The most recent comment on the route page was from 2014 stating “You could deck in a couple places but if you’re on this it’s unlikely. On the other hand, if any single bolt were to come unclipped or fail somehow, you would die.” Zach is a full time climbing guide and I knew that he could give me the attentive belay I would need to climb the route comfortably.
Ima had just reminded me to stop looking at Mountain Project comments before climbing, a few days back. It’s too bad that I had already peered at these one’s years in the past and already remembered them. It really does mess with your head, and while it’s nice to have as much information as possible, going off only the guidebook typically makes for a more adventurous and pure experience. And going without a guidebook, would only exacerbate that experience but is often impractical.
Before Zach went to lead Icon, we agreed that it would be best for Zack to top rope Back Diamond first before I give it a lead attempt. Zach cruised up Icon, lowered off the Black Diamond Anchors, and proceeded to climb it. He fell and hung one time each on the route and after studying his moves carefully, I felt fully confident giving it a lead burn. My only worry was clipping the fourth bolt. The climbing looked hard, and the fall would likely be over 30 feet if I blew it. Regardless, it was a safe fall, and Zach was even prepared to jump of the spire he was belaying from. I started up the route, making a difficult dyno just above the first bolt but sadly fell on a difficult mantel after clipping the second bolt. Getting to the fourth bolt was heady and just about as bad as it looked. Clipping that bolt felt so good! By the time I got to the anchors, I was totally pumped but happy to have fallen only once… In a safe spot. The climbing itself was incredible and I was psyched! After cleaning the route, Zack informed me that his belay was the most attentive belay he had ever given.
We scrambled back to our home base “staging area”, drank some water, snacked on some mandarins, and shared a spliff. The weather was near perfect as usual in California. It was a touch warm, but an occasional breeze kept the sun in check and us both comfortable in a single layer all day.
Jamaican Bobsled is the name of the next route that sparked our interest. Zach had a peak on Mountain Project and began racking up. The moves getting to the third bolt looked improbable and a bail carabineer on the second bolt confirmed that line of thinking. Zach started up and proceeded to fall in between bolts two and three. The route was rated 11a but it looks significantly harder. Zach eventually made his way up and cleaned all the cams as he lowered down. I went up and immediately started to struggle. The route was hard, and I took a decent sized fall just below the third bolt. I managed to get the moves clean and got to the anchor with no more falls. The final fifteen feet of the route included a crazy sequence of moves where one must pull onto small crimps on an overhanging face from a comfortable stemming stance. It was wild, feeling very sustained and desperate. Zach had cleaned up the anchor and replaced some old tat with new cord. Someone needs to bring some chains and quick links out here!
Once again, we proceeded back to home base to rack up and go for what I believe is the king line at the crag; a diagonal thin crack called Bloodline. The crack starts ten to fifteen feet above the base of the cliff but can be accessed via a bolted traverse which someone called 11c. If Jamaican Bobsled was 11a, then maybe 11c is fair for the traverse but both felt like huge sandbags. Four of the five bolts on the traverse were quarter inchers and likely originals from 1989. The third bolt was a newer three eighths inch bolt and inspired some confidence for an absurdly powerful crux move that caused me to power scream. I continued past two more quarter inchers on small edges for hands and delicate, crumbly footholds till I got to some sort of okay rest stance at the start of the crack. I clipped a rusty fixed knife blade piton and started up the crack. From the second bolt, the climbing was full on and the crack was no different. I made it about halfway up the crack before it petered out into the “5.12 crux” where I fell. My last piece was probably about waist level but with a fair bit of rope out, I still fell around ten feet. I pulled myself back up to my high point, completely exhausted and placed a nut to pull on to aid through the move. I was too tired, and the move looked way to hard. I onsighted everything else to the top out and slung a huge boulder with the rope to belay Zack up. The two blisters on my fingers were bulging in pain and I couldn’t wait to get back down to slice them open with a knife. Zach cruised up the whole route but somehow managed to fall on an easier section way up high. I’ll count it as a tronsight in my book. It was a badass send even without placing gear.
We scrambled back down to Zach’s new cord on the top of Jamaican Bobsled and rappelled that route. We hiked back to our home base, avoided numerous cacti and thorn bushes (aka gotcha bushes) for the last time before packing up. Zack rolled a spliff and we smoked it on top of a rock that gave way to a perfect view of the crag and the massive valley down below. The terrain was wild and there probably wasn’t any other human around us within a five mile radius. What a cool feeling. I probably said something along the lines of “wow, this place is so freaking cool/beautiful” a half dozen times.
Every route we climbed was stellar and very engaging both physically and mentally. I fell on three out of the four routes, but I felt that I climbed well. I have never been one to care much about “sending” a route. I’ve never tried a single route more than four times and the idea of repeating one of these lines in the near future has minimal appeal. I’d rather just wait till I’m stronger or head back with another psyched partner.
With plenty of daylight left in the sky, we started our bushwhacked down to the wash. We pointed at every cool rock formation and potential route in awe like kids in a candy store where each treat is located a half mile away. We noticed one particular overhanging crack that split a narrow pinnacle. We dropped the bags and hiked to the base, both grabbing out our phones to see if the route exists on Mountain Project. Low and behold it did and was only 5.9 with one two-star vote; Added to the to do list. We nailed the rest of the decent back to the car and jumped in just as the sun fell behind the mountains. The sky started to turn its typical wild colors of orange and purple for sunset and the moon was out. We drove back to the campground on a dirt road listening to Lovely Day by Bill Withers. I invited Zach for dinner, but he already had plans which he invited Ima and myself to. We agreed to eat separately but an offer of dinner at his place in a few days plus a warm shower will certainly be taken advantage off.
I got back to the campsite where I found most of the hippies walking about but no sign of Ima. I was “chilling with the hippies” as Ima would say and had just jumped into my van to change into some comfortable clothes when I felt a shake. It was an earthquake! But not a real one, the type where a friend shakes a vehicle to simulate such a phenomenon. “Earthquakes” have been my typical alarm on the rare occasions when such a thing is required in the morning. Ima and Mosey where the culprits of this quake and we greeted each other with big smiles. It was clear that all of us had bitchin days. I provided a brief overview of mine and Mosey explained that she was just on the top of Intersection Rock after jugging a fixed line that Ima put up. Mosey’s ankle has been in a boot due to an injury since I met her back in December and it was clear that she was very psyched to get in some climbing related action. I intentionally kept my van unlocked all day since in case Ima needed something inside and it worked out perfectly since they needed a Jumar and a ladder for their adventure. I typically lock it up when I’m gone unlike most of the hippies and Ima said that he thought it would be a fifty-fifty chance when he walked to open my door.
Ima had gone into town that morning to pick up provisions for a big Paia. We grabbed a huge cast iron pan from Jen and Nate’s site at the end of the back loop and proceeded to start our meal. Actually, it was really Ima’s meal, but I played Su chef. It’s a roll I have happily fallen into many nights over the past couple months while cooking elaborate meals with Ima. I chopped veggies, Jacob started a fire, and Ima adjusted the grate to get it just right for the incoming castie. He first grilled 7 chicken breasts over the fire then began sautéing veggies. He added rice, broth, herbs and then covered the 30” wide pan before adding the chicken to the top just a few minutes before it was ready.
The Paia came out amazing and Ima served everyone up with appropriate portions, meaning that him and I both got about 3 times the amount everyone else got. Everyone chowed down their portions and Ima and I split the leftovers. I’ve finally met someone who can eat a comparable amount as I. Sometime I worry he may even eat more, but I’m still in denial. The sweets began to pop out for desert and so did the guitar and drums. A little jam session began around our little campfire, and I clanked my fork against my bowl to add to the percussion. I finished my second surprising tasty “Natty Daddy”, an 8% dirt cheap beer that is a favorite of dirt bags and decided to call it a night early. I said goodnight to the crew and headed back to my van. Ima and I had plans to solo 30 pitches the next day and I wanted some decent rest plus some time to write this entry.
March 3, 2021 (Written on the 12th)
I awoke the next morning a little after seven and no less than a minute or two later, Tyler R flew into our campground on his bike. He had a big smile on his face and already had an agenda in mind to start our day of soloing. Sounds like the Peyote Cracks were first on the list. I hadn’t done any of them but after a breakfast and brief walk we arrived at the base of our warmup; a splitter and short 5.10a crack. I followed Tyler up it then down the crack to the right. Then Tyler followed me back to camp and we started up the Flu. Tyler performed a moderately strenuous looking move down low leaving Ima and I to look at each other with some distress. Tyler assured us it was “chill” so we each followed him, me speaking down beta to Ima as he went through the first hard sequence. Tyler then sped ahead, looking mostly solid and always assuring us that everything was “chill”. The route is only rated 5.8 but it’s tall and steep and is all of 5.8! We got to the top and looked at each other to silently affirm that we should take it easy and watch out for Tyler sandbagging us. We climbed one other route on Chimney Rock. Tyler said it was 5.5 but open later looking on Mountain Project, I found it to be 5.7+. Lol, never seen that grade before. We continued running laps all day on Intersection, the Old Woman, and the Blob until the snow came mid down climb after the 25th route of the day. It was only noon and I called it quits. Ima joined me and Tyler ran to Cyclopes rock in the snow to tick off a couple more routes in order to get to 30. I spent most of the remainder of the day hanging out in my van, reading, playing a game of Chess with Ima and eating some cake that he baked over a fire with the hippies. That night, the hippies made us dinner. Many pounds of pesto pasta with veggies and chicken sausage. Not bad.
March 4, 2012 (Written on the 12th)
The next day was originally supposed to be a rest and pack day, but it was quickly changed into a climbing day the previous night. The plan was to hit some routes around the campground after a relaxed morning. We had a long breakfast and started off to climb Bearded Cabbage. It’s an epic line that I climbed my very first visit to Hidden Valley campground and the idea of soloing has crossed my head. Ima roped up and led the climb with ease. He clipped the lone bolt, plugged in one of the three cams I gave him, touched the anchors then proceeded to down climb the route. I dig the style. I repeated the endeavor and subsequently sat down on a rock perched behind the climb with a view of the whole inner loop. Instead of climbing anything else that day, we spent the next two hours bathing in the sun and chatting about life on top of that boulder. I looked at my phone and it was already passed noon when I suggested we should head back to camp and pack up for our backpacking trip instead of climbing something else. We walked back to camp via the short cut through the climbing steward’s campsite. We began packing up, talking logistics of the trip, reading maps, and looking at route descriptions. Psych was high for our three-day backing packing trip through the Wonderland. The plan was to start in Indian Cove and exit at the Boy Scout Trailhead. We packed up about 90% of the way, ate a salad for lunch and prepared to leave.
I walked over to the dumpster to empty my trash can and recycling when on my way back, someone driving a car drove by and rolled down their window. A girl’s head poked out and said something along the lines of, “Hey, you look like you camp here a lot. Do you know where we can park and camp and chill and do drugs?” I was quickly introduced to two girls and a dude buried in the backseat and got the impression that this crew decided to head to Joshua Tree last minute and fully sent it doing zero research before arriving. I dig the style. The whole crew seemed fun and it just so happened that we were preparing to vacate our campsite in the next five minutes. I suggested they park at our site and wait for us to leave. They pulled up, offered up some beers and our leave time of 5 minutes shifted a bit later. We started chatting a bit as small hang of 8 or so people began to develop around the parking area of our site. Twenty or thirty minutes later, Ima and I finally said our goodbyes and drove out of the park listening to Cumbia.
Our first stop of the day was the Boy Scout Trailhead where we left Ima’s van. Our next stop was the Joshua Tree Saloon for a beer and some Wi-Fi. We spent a few hours downloading maps, finalizing our trip plans, and responding to old texts, calls, and emails. Zach had offered to have us over for dinner with the promise of a shower so after a quick stop at Walmart to pick up some food, we headed over to Zach’s place. It was a good night overall but one that we called early. Ima and I headed back to my van before 9:30 and immediately passed out.
March 5, 2021 (Written on the 12th)
I woke up just before 7am feeling well rested. I insisted Ima stay in my bed as I drove down to Coyote Corner to fill up water and poop before heading to Indian Cove. He claimed to have slept amazing and was very hyped on the concept of lying in bed while being driven around. We headed to Indian Cove and upon reaching the end of the road, realized that we would not be able to park there overnight. A minor hiccup but nothing we couldn’t fix with some hitchhiking. We found the backpacker parking area, 2.6 miles from the end of the road and had a leisurely, large, and delicious breakfast before packing the last of our backpacks. Just then, a couple approached the parking area from the trail, and I asked them for a ride down. I offered to wear mask, but the couple said they didn’t care and we hopped into their Dodge Charger. We began hiking up a wash towards our first climbing objective of the trip, Rattlesnake Buttress. After a beautiful and mellow hike that got us close to the buttress, a more strenuous scramble brought us to the base of two four star 5.8 routes. I led the first and Ima led the second per rock-paper-scissors. The only other route we were interested in was a 5.12- called Eureka. I wasn’t particularly psyched on leading it but a rock toss decided that my fate was to do so. I onsighted through the first 7 or 8 bolts of sustained and very technical slab climbing and eventually fell at a tricky roof move. It looked impossible and simply aiding through the move was a 5.11 endeavor.
We packed up and began to hike back down to Rattlesnake Canyon. The scramble to the canyon was brutal and a big elevation loss so I suggested that maybe we try to just continue scrambling up and around the mountain we were already on. I’ve found that it’s typically always a bad idea to opt for a presumed “shortcut” when there is a trail available, but I never seem to learn my lesson. We began our epic scramble performing numerous fifth class moves as we weaved our way up hill through a maze of massive boulders. We were hauling ass, reaching a big dome called the Helmet in maybe an hour or so. It was a short cut, but the energy expended during that hour was immense. We felt tired. Zach had told us about a baller cave stocked with a stove and food around the Helmet, so we dropped our bag and began our search for it. We scrambled all around the formation but failed to find it, so we opted to camp in the wash adjacent to the formation. We moved our bags to our new camp spot, grabbed our climbing gear and headed up to our next objective.
The first time I opened the Joshua Tree guidebook and saw a picture of Firewater Chimney, I knew I had to do it. The picture shows a climber stemming between two red and orange walls and it looks epic. I was feeling particularly tired and was quite happy that it was Ima’s lead. We climbed up, snatching a bail-biner halfway up and reached the top anchors. It looked strenuous and slightly scary, and I was feeling really weak for some reason. The hike must had taken a toll. Ima was preparing to do some less than ideal lower so I could lead the route but I yelled up and told him to belay me up on a Munter. I didn’t want to lead it. Ima sounded surprised and I felt slightly lame. The route was actually quite chill for me, but I was still happy with my decision. We both top roped a 12a on the outside of the Chimney but at about 2/3 of the way up for me, I felt a sudden urge to poop! I yelled down and asked Ima if he had any paper to which he replied yes. I lowered, grabbed the paper and barley made it 10 feet before the explosion occurred. I must have eaten something that upset my stomach because my entire stomach emptied. The paper that Ima provided was certainly nowhere near enough so I used the brush around me to supplement, careful to avoid the prickly stuff.
We got back down to camp exhausted and started to make dinner. It was decided that I would be the chef tonight. Instead of bringing the typical freeze-dried backpacking food that I typically bring with me, Ima insisted we bring “real” food. So along with my Jetboil stove, we brought a bag of salmon, Quinoa, half an onion, and a small stick of butter. Dinner was bomb and shortly after, we headed to bed.
March 6, 2021 (Written on the 19th)
I slept fairly well and woke up not long after the sun came out. We made some oatmeal in the sun and packed our bags. I peaked at the map and mentioned that today would be considerably more “chill” than yesterday in regard to terrain and distance hiked. A moderate scramble got us to the main wonderland trail in maybe 45 minutes and things were looking good! Our first objective of the day was to find the stashed water that Zach had left in the fortress valley. We made our way to what we thought was the entrance and dropped our bags in order to move quicker. We scrambled into a valley and it didn’t look familiar. I didn’t bring my phone with our map but we pulled up mountain project on Ima’s and realized we were too far north. We backtracked and eventually made it to the Fortress Valley. It was gorgeous and would be an amazing place to come (note for future).
Zach told us that the water was under a boulder and that a blind man would be able to spot it, it was so obvious. Well, on our first pass through the entire valley, we came across no water. We had less than a liter of water left between us and if we didn’t find it, we would no doubt be hiking out of the Wonderland that day very thirsty. On our walk back from the far end of the valley, I spotted the water under a boulder that we walked past as we entered the valley… victory! But upon further observation, I realized that of the three gallons of the water stashed, all the caps were cracked and two contained some living organisms swimming around in them. The water in one of the bottles was exceptionally cloudy and had a living thing that was nearly 2 inches long… I tossed that one. We kept the two other jugs, taped over the caps, and fit them in a backpack.
We backtracked to our gear dropped the water, picked up our climbing gear and headed to the south face of the Grey Giant to climb a route called Hyperion. Hyperion is one of the few four star (highest) rated routes in the guidebook and has a reputation for being amazing and full on. The crux of the first pitch protects with a 000 C3 or #0 Z4 and appears quite intimidating. I wanted the lead and with some hesitation the day before, Ima happily gave it to me upon our arrival at the base. It was really hot, and we were directly in the sun on the south face. Terrible conditions to climb a slick corner at my limit but we were here so it was going to go down regardless. I climbed up the first quarter of the pitch, placing both of my .75s and sewing things up as I approached the crux. I placed a bomber .1/.2 offset and fired into the crux sequence. A tricky sequence led to a decent hand hold where I placed a #0 Z4. I contemplated the next moves determining that it didn’t look too bad and launched into a tips layback while smearing on nothing. I placed my right foot on a decent ledge far out right and hoisted my body up to get the bomber finger lock. I touched the finger lock but couldn’t hold on. My foot popped and I fell, some distance above my #0 Z4. It held. I rested and fired it second go. I continued on before coming to a long section of splitter .75” crack. I was pumped out of my mind and had nothing to protect it with. I hesitated, already run out and not wanting to fall. I looked at my existing cams and up at the crack above me. I placed an extremely under-camed purple totem and said take… Defeat. I lowered down and back-cleaned a #1 and set off on part three of my fight to the anchors. I got there, utterly exhausted. I pressed my head up against the wall and water ran from my helmet like a waterfall. Ima came up taking a few falls and aiding through the crux. We were destroyed. He looked at me with an exhausted looking face and unclipped a water bottle from his harness. “I brought you a gift big dawg”. There was about a third of a liter left. I drank it all.
Ima looked really worked and I offered to lead the next pitch. It was a 5.10+ horizontal crack under a roof. It looked hard and it was. I grunted my way through the pitch, sometimes intentionally jamming my head against the upper roof to rest my core as I smeared on bird poop and jammed my hands in a crack that managed to reopen all my gobies. I brought a right crack glove to the base of the route anticipating this might happen, but I forgot to put it on. Just as I was able to get around the corner, my foot slipped on a bird poop covered smear and I whipped. Bummer. I pulled myself up and finished the pitch. Ima followed and I pointed out the 11d third pitch protected by fixed copperheads. The guidebook states that it’s seldom done. It was an easy choice to go down. We got back down to the base, each found a patch of shade and laid down for no less than 30 minutes. I had finished the last of our water on top of the second pitch and we were drained due to the heat. What we did have though, was 7 tabs of acid. So, we opted to eat 2 each. I turned back on airplane mode and I suggested we get back to our packs before the acid comes into effect. We made it to our packs, drank from the gallon containing the clear water and decided to eat the remainder of our acid. Our gear was scattered all over the place and we packed it up quickly to make it to a camp spot before we fully departed to Mars. We found a nice spot in a secluded wash just in time. The come up was quick and we spent our afternoons on a different planet. It was awesome and impossible to describe in words so I’m not going to attempt to do so. I did however manage to write one sentence in my phone while I was on another planet which I will include: “A Turkish Trip Through the Wonderland of Rocks: And here we are sitting down in a desert wash, drinking tea seasoned by gummies found in the bishop dumpster weeks ago because the water we found stashed in the fortress valley had been penetrated by the living and we had to boil it in a Jet Boil flavored with quinoa and salmon so that it wouldn’t poison our stomachs. Ima drank it before we boiled it anyway.”
March 7, 2021 (Written on the 19th)
We woke the next morning with only enough water to make oatmeal. We had boiled most of the dirty gallon of water the night before, but Ima also drank from it directly, not caring about the living organisms floating within. We packed up our bags for the last time and began our walk out of the Wonderland. It took a couple hours, but we eventually made it to Boy scout trailhead where we had left Ima’s car. Too bad he left his keys in my van back at Indian Cove. Ha! It was a Sunday and people were about, but most were wearing masked and did not look like the type willing to give us a ride. I spotted some dirty looking climbers and ran up asking for a ride to Hidden Valley Campground. It was a no. We waited a bit longer before I spotted a couple that looked like climbers and drove a pickup without a topper. They let us hop in the back and we cruised on over to the campground. We got dropped off next to Intersection Rock and walked over to the back loop to see if we could get a ride out to Indian Cove from someone. We first ran into Tyler and his friends who laid claim to our beloved site 34. We hung for a few minutes before heading to site 45 to find Jacob, Nate and the famed Chongo hanging out. This was my first time ever meeting Chongo and I was psyched to pick his brain over the next couple days. Jacob let us borrow his car and we skirted over to Indian Cove after filling it up with gas. We grabbed my van and headed to the JT Saloon for a celebratory lunch. Ima was reluctant to eat out but I convinced him. We ate a shit ton, drank a beer and hit the store before headed back into the park to make pizzas.
March 19, 2021 Afterthought
I write this as a journal entry but also as a reminder of what my life was like during the winter of 2021. I really haven’t had any bad days this entire winter, yet I consider this time to be a low point in my van adventures. I miss traveling internationally, long routes, and non-Covid times. I am writing this to remind myself that low points can still be bitchin.
March 2, 2024 Afterthought
On November 28, 2022, Ima and I found ourselves back in Joshua Tree at the tail end of a desert road trip we took in the late John Bolte’s truck, “The Red Rocket”. After a couple days of climbing, we made plans to take another walk through the Wonderland while on another planet. This time, we had an agenda which was a plan to climb the route “EBGBs” at sunset. This classic and aesthetic 5.10d route climbs up a prominent boulder adjacent to Echo rock and became my favorite climb in the park after a desperate onsight years before. The route is very safe but very heady hence the name EBGBs. After a lovely day romping around the Wonderland, we made it over to EBGBs and played perhaps the most important game of rock, paper, scissors in our friendship to date. I won and wow was I stoked... I really wanted that lead. I started up the climb as the sun tucked below the horizon and delicately edged my way up the face, feeling a huge sense of relief as I arrived at each bolt. I topped out after an experience that cannot be described with words. Ima followed the climb and arrived on the summit expressing significant gratitude that he had lost rock, paper, scissors. 10/10 experience.
