Joes Isn't Just For Bros

In March of 2017 I took a two week trip to Joes Valley. It was perhaps the best climbing trip I've been on. Not because of how well I performed, but because of the people I met and the connections I made. A few Flagstaff homies accompanied me on the first week, but the rest I planned on rolling solo. I was never alone on this trip, instantly I met some of the most amazing, loving, and carefree people.

The first person I'm going to mention is Garrick Hague. I had met Garrick a couple months before this trip when he rolled through Flagstaff during our gnarliest snow storm, he didn't stay long. I ran into him again a few weeks later at the Kraft Boulders in Vegas. This in when our friendship truly blossomed. And by blossomed, I mean we spent the entire day in Kraft making poop jokes, heckling, and annoying the rest of the climbers there. I talked to Garrick about my trip to Joes and he said he would be there for the whole month, so we planned on meeting up.

Garrick aka Tiny Peep

I rolled into Joes late, three vans where lined up in the Mansize area. One of those vans belonged to Garrick. The other two belonged to my soon to be friends, Tina and Alex, and Cody. Jill, one of my good buddies from Flagstaff, also rolled in late that evening. The next day two more friends from Flagstaff joined, Lexi and Brandon aka Bam Bam. As my time is Joes extended, so did the crew of people we were with. Some would leave and go back to their homes, then more would join. I feel like I need to name everyone, because they are all so important. These are the names of everyone that would be at one point a part of our crew; Garrick, Tina, Alex, Cody, Jill, Lexi, Brandon, Pat, Stephen, Rubi, Mondo, Alli, Ray, Meredith, David, Alex (Canadian), and Mark. We would call ourselves PDF crew, an acronym for Poopy Dick Freud. A classy bunch we were.

Pat aka Mama T

Tina and Alex aka Tuff Thug and Torn Roll

The highlight of this trip wasn't the climbing, although Joes is one of my favorite areas to climb at. The highlights were the laughs. If we weren't climbing we were cracking jokes, dancing, playing ninja, singing, raping, playing contact, giving each other knuckle tattoos, or just laying in the sun and drinking. Never was there a dull moment.

What I learned from this trip is why I continue to climb. Don't get me wrong, I love climbing for myself, for the effort and motivation I have to put it, for the progress and the plateaus. But what keeps me going, why I continue to throw myself at little rocks is the community. The people that you meet from all different backgrounds. The closet friends I have to this day are the ones I have met through this silly sport. Realizing this has made getting through the frustrating plateaus easier, its made punting seem funny, its made grades feel irrelevant. Its made me a happier person.

Stevie aka Yung Jose 

Patagonia Atom Sling (Yurt Yellow)

Truffle Shuffle Struggle

In the beginning of 2016, I attempted a climb in Cherry Canyon by the name of Truffle Shuffle. A couple of weeks ago, I sent it. The space in between these two events contained an assortment of excitement, frustration, and perseverance. This may not be the most physically challenging problem I've accomplished, but definitely the most mentally demanding one. I did all the moves the very first time I tried it, and felt confident in completing it quickly. After every session I would say "It'll go next time." I proceeded to say those same words for months to follow.

 The first time I tried this problem was in the spring of 2016. A friend and I would go out in the mornings before it got too hot and throw ourselves at this silly rock climb. Every go I would reach the dyno, but for some reason was not able to hold on. Summer soon came and so did the rain, and the season for that area was put on hold. I wasn't upset, knowing I would do it once the weather became favorable. Fall brought send temps and psych was high, so I made the trek out to Cherry once again. I warmed up on the easy moves, got my beta dialed for the dyno and the top out section and was feeling good. I decided to give it a go from the beginning, cruised through the start, felt solid on the sudo rose move, and eyed up for the dyno. I dug my feet in and hucked myself as hard as I could muster. I slapped the hold, clutched down, felt my feet fly back, and cried for mercy. For a moment I thought I had it, but as I tried to put my foot back on, I kicked myself off the wall. Such is climbing. I shook it off and continued to work the problem until it worked me.

"Not today I guess, but it'll go next time."

I can't tell you how many times I said those words, but I can tell you it was more than once, or twice, or three times even.

My friend Sam came through town and wanted to climb, so I took him out to the good ol' truffle. Gave him the run down, and he figured out his own beta and our psych became united. Sam was falling on the dyno move as well so it became our mission to both send before he left. Sam and I were also both somewhat close to sending The Girl out in Priest Draw, so the next day we thought we could have a "Double Friend Send Day," meaning we both foolishly believed that the two of us could send The Girl and Truffle Shuffle in the same day. Obviously that did not pan out as we had hoped. We started out at The Girl confident after some breakfast. Feeding off each others spirit we began our journey. It soon became clear that The Girl was not going down that day, so we left without too much disappointment, realizing it was a grand objective. We took a quick break and got some lunch in town and headed east to Cherry Canyon. If you guessed we didn't send Truffle either, you are correct. Our "Double Friend Send Day" had turned into a "Double Flail Fail Day." Though we had failed to successfully top out a boulder that day, it was still a great, because what is climbing if you don't have someone to laugh and flail with.

We went back. My friend Tyler who has accompanied me on many of my dances with the Truffle Shuffle, joined Sam and I. The ritual began once again. Sam went first, and fell off the very last move. He sent the next go. I was so excited for him, and I used that excitement to power myself through, and I stuck the dyno move. I could stick the dyno move every time, from that day forward. However, I would then fall, and fall, and fall on the next move. This is when the frustration began to settle in. I had this notion in my mind that when I stuck the dyno, the boulder problem was over and I would send. That was not the truth, it was far from it. This is when I entered Puntsville.

Winter was near at this time, and with that comes the threat of road closure. I knew there wasn't much longer before my window of sending would close. I didn't want to wait for next season when the taste of victory was so near. The first big storm was brewing and I needed to act quick. I had altered my beta slightly at the end, and this made it possible for me to keep my left foot for the dyno move, saving me the much needed energy to execute the final sequence. The storm was going to be here by Sunday according to the forecast so I went out on Friday. I fell on the very last move. By this I mean that I fell reaching for the very last hold, from which you use to top out. My right hand had dry fired causing me to fall backwards as I stared at the last beautiful hold that my left hand was reaching for.  As rain began to fall, I tried to sneak in one last rapid fire before the holds got wet, knowing there wouldn't be many sessions after that day but I was foiled again.

So I went out Saturday. A proper wobbler was thrown that day. I flung my shoes into the sky and cursed the heavens for once again, I fell on the LAST DAMN MOVE. More than once I might add. This day was especially stressful, because there was more people at Cherry Canyon than a busy day at Wills of Fire boulder in Joes Valley. Which is pretty damn busy. I don't always do well in big groups when I'm utterly frustrated, but I tried to use my anger and the energy of that group to haul my body up that rock, to no avail. The ride home that day was a sour one. I was in my own head, upsetting myself for not trying harder, for not setting myself up in a better way, for not just sending the damn boulder. It was right there in my hand, and I just let go. Then I realized I was getting mad at a rock, and calmed down.

So I went out Sunday. The forecast showed snow in the afternoon, and I knew I only needed one good go. I headed out with a small group of friends. At this moment, I was calm. I had already experienced all the anger I could the previous day and knew it would be no help to me. I warmed up on the easy moves, made sure my beta was dialed for the end, and gave it a go from the beginning. I cruised through the start, felt solid on the sudo rose move, and eyed up for the dyno. I stuck the dyno with ease and I took a breathe. I put my foot on for the next move, it slipped, but I didn't go down. I remained calm, found my footing, and regained my composure. I hit the last hold, topped it out, and cheered for joy. It was done, and I had beat the clock. To some extent I was still annoyed with the duration it took for me to finish this problem, but thats just how it goes sometimes.

What did I learn from all of this: Rock climbing is super silly.

Here's a link to the send:

https://vimeo.com/193205521