Nothing too major to report today. Just more climbing. Today's route: a single pitch off-width 5.6 called "Duh Dihedral". Here, my friend Ryan leads the route with poise and grace. It was a very tough 5.6, with nice laybacks and a very deep crack throughout to keep your neck hairs standing.
Good morning.
This afternoon, we got a pretty pleasant storm here in Denver. It's been a constant happening, the afternoon thunderstorms that have always threatened us Coloradans but in recent years, haven't quite delivered. I don't know how much precipitation it adds up to, but it feels pretty damn nice. It gives me a chance to catch up on my reading and. Writing.
I saw this statue the other day. Lady Liberty had in her arms a fallen Spartan, a representation of all of the warriors who had fought and died for this country.
I tend not to get very patriotic about such things, and -I imagine that this blog entry won't seem very patriotic to most people. However, some of you, I hope, will get it, and to those, I write.
The look of her face was akin to a mother looking over her wounded child. To speak in metaphor, in our current political and economical environment, I don't believe that it's a look of sadness in regards to us being hurt. I think it would be more accurate as a look of disappointment in all of the mistakes we have made as a country.
We stand divided, plagued by many issues. Yes, no nation is perfect, and even the smallest communities have discord about how to manage themselves. But we, as Americans, have gotten so far off track with what was originally hoped for us.
As we approach the two hundred and thirty-ninth anniversary of our independence from Great Britain, we seem to be twice that far removed from the true ideas of patriotism, the ideas of challenging your government for what you believe to be right, of seeking information and taking an active role in our government, even if it's as little an effort as making informed decisions in voting.
To put it plainly, we've gotten lazy. We're drinking the Kool-Aid. We aren't working hard for what we have had given to us. We are complacent, enjoying all of the good things we have now without acknowledging the fights and struggles and work that went into it. We are spoiled children, given all of the best toys and refusing to work until absolutely necessary, and even then, with minimal effort.
Sorry to seem like I'm on the offensive, but I had a thought that needed to be put into writing. I hope you are able to take some motivation from these words. Rebel, not against the government, but FOR the government. It's time to step up.
As I left Salida and FIBArk and friends and family on Sunday evening, I was captivated by the sunset, so much so that I had to stop and snap a quick picture. One of the things I revisit in my head often is that the end isn't so often a bad thing. You can take that as you may, but I feel like the appropriate analogy is a sunset. When you see a spectacular sunset such as this, even though it's a metaphor for the end of the sunshine and illumination, it's an ending that holds itself in a certain amount of grace. To not acknowledge this is to do a disservice to the inherent beauty of the bigger picture. The sun may be setting here, but it's already dark in other places. Those who are in the darkness likely remember a sunset, but are in command of their own lives, their own realities.
I believe I had a point, and I think in my philosophical rant, I lost that point. Sigh... the sun set on my thought process. It was a wonderfully long weekend.
I sit here on a deck overlooking a meadow in front of the spectacular Mount Shavano. I sip wine with loved ones and enjoy the sun and the breeze. The bees buzz around with curiousity. It's so artsy.
Yesterday, I went out to breakfast with my mother at the local hot spot. I found that some people, no matter how much they've gone through, no matter how much they've grown, some of us are just too damn immature to not play with their food.
I don't think making PacMan from your pancakes is anything to be ashamed of. I think it's a mark of youthful joy. I think as long as you're not playing the "see food" game or having a food fight, I think that a little artistic expression is good for the soul.
Heck, as we learned from Richard Dreyfuss in "Close Encounters", playing with your food could even... mean something... (I know you can hear the alien song in your head right now).
The point is, in all seriousness, don't forget the things that keep you young. Keep in practice the things that may make others look at you and say, "really?" I've found that these things give us energy, strength, and an infectious happiness that doesn't just keep us young, it moves from person to person like pinkeye.
I've found wisdom and maturity... in pancakes.
I'm sitting on a curb with about a thousand of my closest new friends. There is a smell in the air of pending rain, popcorn, funnel cake, and cotton candy. The main street is closes to everything but foot traffic. The parade starts in 10 minutes. Small town parades aren't just about making cool floats and winning prizes. This is a place for the bigger family that is the small town to get together, to connect, to catch up on who's doing what. This is a place for the city to show off not only it's shiny new police cruisers and vintage firetrucks, but they will also parade the new snow plow and the new street sweeper. The trash company will slowly roll out their best trucks. Kids will ride bicycles. Shriners will ride Goldwings. Police will ride horses. Hippies will ride rafts. Beauty queens will sit in the back of 90s era Mustang convertables.
This is small town, USA, and I have a front row seat on main street.
I'm pretty sure the title sums it up, but just in case, the idea is that there's a "play hole" where the water flows over a bunch of strategically placed rocks. This gives kayakers and canoers a chance to play and do some gnarly tricks. Nothing super big going down right now, but it's always cool to watch. Like my friend Ryan says, I don't feel guilty staring since it seems people are always staring at us climbers, too.
I love it. I believe (not certain at this point) that this is Lubriphonic, featuring the keyboard talents of Kyle from String Cheese Incident. Quality in a beautiful park by an awesome river is job one here at FIBArk.
Here at FIBArk, the kayak freestyle is the thing to watch. These guys are doing cartwheels and flips and all sorts of crazy stuff. Good times.
When I was in high school, I worked at an old movie theater. The Unique Theatre was the place where I first saw Jurassic Park, and when I worked there, it was $5 to see a flick, usually coming out weeks after they would in the city.
I did lots of things in that theater, starting with making popcorn, and ultimately ending in running the bohemeth 60s era Super Simplex movie projectors. I had a key to the place, and my buddies and I would go in there and play football and hide and seek in the ancient, dark auditorium.
The building itself was built in the late 1880s as I recall, and towards the end of my high school career, it was definitely showing its age. A few years ago, the fire department closed it as a hazard. It was bought by a new investor, whose intentions are unknown to me.
They are stripping the stucco, and I can only hope that they restore the Salida Opera House to it's original glory. If so, it would be, in a way, a rebirth of my childhood.
Last night, while meeting up with old friends and reminiscing of the old times, I snagged this picture of the Arkansas River flowing through downtown Salida, framed by tall cottonwood tries, an evening thunder cloud, and Mount Antero in the background. It's a simple shot, but a quaint reminder of the things we miss out on appreciating.
After this, I realized a life-long dream: I sat in a dentist chair in a dark alley, drank a Mickey's tall boy, hung out with old friends, discussed politics, and listened to an OR nurse talk about assisting in pulling a sausage from a vagina with tongs...
...these are the things that make life worth living. I love Salida.
There are beautiful moments, early on a mid-week day, when you find yourself riding a good bike through a small town.
I'm spending a few days in my home town, taking in the sights of the big whitewater festival called FIBArk, which has become a tradition for me for years and years.
There is a peace that comes with being at home, a peace that's greatly amplified when your home is a small, quiet town in the mountains filled with people you love and hate with equal passion. Serenity exists if you can open your eyes to it.
Yesterday morning, Ryan and I took a quick jaunt up to Eldorado Canyon State Park outside of Boulder. I got to lead what amounted to be about a quarter of a pitch, which was great as it was way up off the deck. I'm thankful I'm not scared of heights anymore.
Today I got a membership at 24 Hour Fitness. This seems to be a far better setup than the Denver Parks and Rec pass, as it's 24 hours, and it's usable anywhere in the country. It may serve to help motivate me to actually travel in this BattleWagon, and not simply live in, as my good friend put it, "an apartment... on wheels".
I'm parked in Lakewood tonight, and I'm watching the security truck help a parking lot guy get his keys out of the car he locked them in. Been there. Thank God for security peeps.
Monkey sent me this pic of my name etched in a table at the Bucksnort. We went up there when I first started this project. Time flies when you're having fun.
Today, I went with other members of the Denver Climber's Coalition up Clear Creek Canyon, west of Golden, for a highway cleanup. Other than about a million cigarette butts, we found a snake, some glasses, an oar, a cinder block, and a bunch of Budweiser & Clamato cans. Gross...
The team effort was amazing. I would love to see something like this happen near my hometown. We have such a beautiful canyon east of Salida, and I feel like it could use an Adopt-A-Highway.
Also, I discovered today that my friend Ryan, apparently, needs to do some more backpacking. When I say it into the camera, you can hear him fire back with a disdainful "what?" Awesome.
Sometimes I love mornings. I love the promise they bring in a new day, free of all the drama and angst of the previous day (or days). Sometimes, though, when I know the day will hold at least 8 hours of hard work and mental skill, I am hesitant to wake up, instead wishing to lay in bed perpetually and dream of the good mornings.
Today was a little rough. It's Friday, and the end of the week almost inevitably means a rough morning. Who knows what the day will hold for me.
I wrote a lengthy blog yesterday about a guy I know (seen three times in Denver) who has a girlfriend and the most adorable little girl. The first time I saw him on the O bus down Broadway, he was with his family. Everyone on the bus loved the little girl, not more than 3 years old. You could tell this guy loved her the most.
Weeks later, I see this same guy crossing 13th street. This time, he's solo, and he just looks defeated and crushed. I was driving by, so I didn't get a chance to stop or anything. Besides, that would have been a little weird.
Well, a couple weeks ago, I see him again. This time he and his girl are together on the corner of 13th and Downing. They look sad and embarassed. The sign they hold up says "laid off. Daughter needs food." I don't know why, but I kept driving, and when I finally turned around, it was too late. They were gone already.
This isn't quite as eloquent as the first draft I threw away, but it's a report on fact, and I think it's a story that needed to be told.
Considering how much I love the rain and the gloom, it is a pleasant refreshment to see the sun coming up this morning. I hope it doesn't bring the heat with it, though.
The BW held up great through all this rain. The roof didn't leak at all. I was dry and happy inside listening to the radio and reading books. I'm looking forward to the next storm already.
Sure, to the untrained eye, this may look like a plastic container containing a couple of coffee mugs and some miscelaneous eating utensils. However, this, when stacked upon two other containers and sandwiched between my bed and the back of the driver's seat, becomes the nighttime resting place for my phone, watch, and various objects I may have in my pockets before bed.
Fascinating how much creativity comes from necessity.
I camped out up an old stagecoach road southwest of Denver this past weekend. It was beautiful.
