Bishop, Ca.

The climbing:

The snow followed me south once again, and so I found myself in Mammoth Lakes, Ca. greeted by six inches of it. The roads were slippery, especially at the passes and without heat in my bus I was wondering if I hadn't arrived too early. The next day the weather cleared, and, with nothing but blue skies and cool temperatures, I got to spend a few days bouldering at the famous Happy Boulders. I bouldered alone for the most part, but was still able to crank two V4's with no spotter on my second day. With the heat returning, I headed for the shady and steep sport climbing of the Owens River Gorge. This playground lived up to my expectations once again, as I spent ten days climbing everything in sight. Onsighting several .11c's and .11d's, including 'Flex Your Head', 'Pumping Groundwater', and 'Dr. Claw', I was having a wonderful time in the dirty canyon. The highlight for me was onsighting my first Gorge .12a - 'Ripoff' on my last full day there.

I spent the bulk of my days climbing with my friend Matt, whom I've been climbing with every year since my first trip to the area. It's always nice to have a local to help out, especially when my guidebook is several years out of date. The new routes keep coming, and I'm too cheap to update. The new book costs $19! Everyone knows dirtbag climbers don't have that kind of cash.

Looking back, I realize that the strange ache in my left forearm while climbing my last day in the 'Gorge was an ominous sign of the injury that would haunt me all summer. It seems that many of the climbs in the 'Gorge are similar, in that they are steep, with hrizontal pockets, and big moves. Pulling down the same way, again and again, is what I believe contributed to my injury. That, and the fact that I was pretty fresh off of ski season, and climbing about ten routes a day, mostly 5.11 and up. At first dismissing it as just another bit of soreness, I made the mistake of not treating it at all. I assumed it would go away with time, like most of the pains I'd had over the years. I was wrong.

As soon as I got within local calling distance, I made an appointment at 'Sierra German Auto' in Bishop. They had fixed my bus free of charge a few years before when a hose popped loose, and sure enough the problem was obvious. Another hose had popped off, and I was on my way in no time.

Just before I hit the road again, my brother Christian showed up with a carload of avacados and a paraglider. He had picked the avacados green and was very surprised to find that the heat of the Owens valley had ripened them in just a few days. Each day, we ate as many of the tasty fruit as we could before they rotted while waiting for the proper paragliding conditions. What we couldn't eat, he was able to sell to the local grocery store. Although the winds were less than ideal, Christian was able to launch and get a few decent flights. I was probably more nervous than he was, watching for the first time, but he had just come off a full winter of flying in Southern Claifornia - he seems to have taken to it like, well, a bird. The temperatures were climbing, and I was looking forward to the cool alpine environment at Mt. Charelston, outside Las Vegas. I must say, paragliding looks like fun.