day one

K's Birthday and the sandstone

This is right before I cried

Kaleb hand jamming

Happy birthday husband! 28, and still as good looking as ever.

Because it was Kaleb's birthday, and because we have an ongoing love affair with sandstone, we did a little red-rock climbing. Well, Kaleb did a little climbing, I had a little breakdown.

The morning began a little temperamental, it was kind of raining, kind of not, and it looked like it had maybe rain the night before (but the drive in was dry?) We went out to Snow Canyon to find some guide book climbs. The one we settled was supposed to be an easy 5.8 warm up. It was not. The rock was soft and crumbling beneath Kalebs feet as he set unsteady gear. Every move was sketchy, and the gear insecure. It was not a simple 5.8. There are times in climbing, when I get on a route K has already led, and am amazed by his ability climbing, and his control of his emotions, this was one of those times. The route was terrible. It was like climbing dry mud, it crumbled in my fingers and my feet peeled off even steady holds.
That was the last of Snow Canyon

Bluff Street looms above the city, and from the street perfect split lines can be seen. We've climbed bluff before, and it was fantastic, so we decided to climb again. Sandstone crack climbing is different than any other type of climbing, the way the rock is formed, it does not have face holds (face holds: holds on a route that you can pull up on) Instead it has massive cracks in which you jam in your hands, and flex, hoping they hold. Meanwhile your feet are jammed and twisted, and again, hoping they hold. When in a crack climbing zone, it is amazing, when not, it is very frustrating. I was not in the zone.

Kaleb led each climb, and placed gear like a pro. Making his ascents beautiful and strong, and coming off the rock with bloody hands. He has a way with climbing, and even if it hurts, if it holds, he keeps his hand in place. I climbed each after him, and with each climb it was as if I had never maneuvered a rock before. But I continued, and struggled, and sandbagged up. It wasn't until the third climb, when I slipped and fell, and slipped and fell, and then slipped one more time, then I cried.

We finished the day on Chuckawalla Wall. A fantastic sport route wall of huge holds and pumpy climbing. It was there that I finally felt like I had some ability. K, of course, killed it.