CHILE

I was unsure where to begin writing about my trip to Chile. Chronologically, beginning with the event for which I was in South America, The North Face Master of Bouldering, would make the most sense. But it's the least fresh in my mind, and as great as the event was, it was unmatched in the surrealism I experienced in the Andes in the days that followed. I considered making two separate posts, one for the competition and another for my time in the mountains. But, as it is all one trip, it all has its place, and as you will see, I have chosen to condense and begin appropriately at the beginning.

Taking the red-eye out of Atlanta, I arrived in Santiago, Chile at around 9am on Thursday.

For those of you who don't know where Santiago is (because secretly I didn't) here's a little help:

I was accompanied by my new teammates Alex Honnold, Cedar Wright ("Cheddar" in the southern hemisphere), and Samurai Yuji Hirayama. I was sincerely excited to be there, it was my first trip as part of The North Face team, and I couldn't have asked for better people to spend my time with, though I'm sure two of them were wondering why they would be competing in a bouldering event...

Surprisingly enough, the guys found themselves feeling right at home in their element. One of the qualifier boulder problems was a straight hand-jamming crack, and of all the male competitors (around 60), my boys were the only ones to do it!!

Honestly, I was nervous for this event. More so than I had been in quite a while. I'm not sure exactly why, though I have a few speculations. For some reason I was putting a lot of pressure on myself to do well, as it was my first real showcase with The North Face. Also, we were brought to this event pretty much as the most difinitive representation of super stars, Honnold especially. We even had massive athlete posters placed dead center in the spectator area. I built this idea up in my head that with a preceding reputation it left room for people to be disappointed by my performance, when in fact, they were just psyched we were there.

Nerves aside, the competition was a pretty spectacular event. Fully organized and put on by TNF Chile, things went entirely smooth, and there were probably a couple thousand spectators watching finals. I flashed all the finals problems, as did Chilean competitor Soho Langbehn, and because of this tie results were defaulted to countback to semi-finals where Soho had beaten me by a fall, thus putting me in second place to a worthy opponent, third place going to Thais Makino of Brazil. Fellow North American (Canada) Sierra Allen placed a proud eighth.

Things for my boys went equally as well, with Samurai Yuji getting 2nd by and attempt or two at 43-years-old (still killing it). Honnold ended up seventh (don't let him tell you he can't boulder), and Cedar has a great personality.

The day after the event we headed out to the mountains.

Driving to the Choriboulders from Santiago I couldn't stop imagining that we were living scenes from Jurassic Park. We had two matching Subaru Foresters, driving single file, affixed with massive TNF logos on all sides, packed to the brim with duffels and gear. In our safari vehicle were myself, Honnold, Cedar and Sierra.

A third of the drive was on unpaved roads winding deep up into the dry climate of the Andes. Our camp was around 9,000 feet in elevation, set just below an 18,000 foot peak.

When we parked we were surrounded by boulders on all sides. Who's first instinct wouldn't be to go exploring? That's what all of us immediately did, in all different directions, when we hopped out of the cars. After scrambling around a bit I began to hear music floating up from somewhere, and when I popped up over the top of a nearby boulder, there sat an fiery-haired girl playing a ukelele-like instrament and humming "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." Her name was Fran. There were two other girls at their camp called Nine, with awesome beaded hair, and Natalia. I sat down to listen and we watched the sun set behind the mountains. Afterwards, as I meandered my way back to our camp, I had already come to the subconscious conclusion that I would be sleeping outside under the most star-filled sky I've ever seen. They really do sparkle like diamonds. This being my first time in the southern hemisphere, I was able to watch many constellations I've never seen before drift across the sky. Needless to say it was hard to get to sleep.

If I had to describe the climbing at Choriboulders in one word it would be: diverse. Luckily, I can use as many words as I want. Sometimes the rock was as sedimentary as Maple Canyon, and sometimes it was Colorado granite. There was no consistency to this whatsoever, and it was often the case that the stone differed drastically from the front side of a boulder to the back. Regardless, the rock made for some interesting and often peculiar climbing in a gorgeous setting. The wild horses wandering about didn't hurt the majesty of it all, either.

Hiking to the boulders with my new friends Nine, Fran and Natalia I found a bunch of really awesome fossils which I geeked out over to the point where they probably thought I was a huge dork. They saw how excited I got over a few stones, and began to explain that there were fossilized dinosaur footprints in the area, which I expressed I would definitely be excited to see. So instead of climbing we went dinosaur hunting!

In the few days we spent in the beauty and magnificence of the Andes, hanging out around the campfire and sleeping under the stars there was so much laughter and camaraderie, so many surreal moments, and definitely some everlasting friendships made. It's surely a time I will never forget.

My last day in Chile we were back down in the city. Honnold and myself, along with Fran and Natalia, were invited to Nine's house for a big lunch. We learned how to make homemade gnocchi and spent the day lounging in Nine's big backyard, swimming in the pool, and... climbing her house...

At the end of the day, Fran and Nine brought me to the airport and dropped me off. I left South America with a huge smile on my face thinking of the wonderful time I had in Chile and the incredible people I got to share it with.

Recent Happenings

I just came home from Chile. This post will contain all things leading up to Chile. There will be one soon to follow containing all things Chile. Therefore, this post will be super short because I'm still riding the Chile-high and am excited to write about it!

Feb 11, 2012 I left Vegas and went to Hueco with Sausage Turrentine. And Phaydara Vonsavanthong. And Melissa Strong. And the hundred other people that were there.

Feb 24, 2012 I left Hueco and went to ABS Nationals in Colorado Springs. It was lots of fun, I got 5th.

Feb 27, 2012 I left Colorado and went home.

March 3, 2012 I went to Menomonie, WI to give a slide show presentation at UW-Stout. They held their annual competition, caveman style, with over a hundred attendants. It was a great event and I had a wonderful time there and I'm proud and excited to say that my presentation went very well!

March 10, 2012 I went to Philadelphia, PA to the JIBS event.

March 14, 2012 CHILE.

Ramble-Tron!

I first met Kenny Barker and Sebastian Espinas when I was 19-years-old, a young pup fresh from my mother's den. I was living in Ft. Collins, CO and had ample living room space with a couch and a futon. My good friend Anna Hayes was coming to Colorado to climb for a few weeks and needed a place to stay, and she was bringing some friends. I had never met them before, but she told me their names were Kenny, Sebastian and Dylan (who ended up saving my life once and I heard is now dating a supermodel!)

You've probably heard of Kenny because he bolted, like, all the routes in the Red River Gorge.

 The infamous Kenny Barker and a scene from Alien

I feel like with fellow climbers it's understood that people will be living on your couch from time to time (if you have a couch), and that the favor would be returned in some way eventually. Sort of like a "pay it forward" deal.

So I recently found myself collecting couch debt in Las Vegas, sleeping on a giant red Lovesac in Sebastian's living room, with Kenny, his wife Julie, and their two dogs GusGus and Malakai on the air mattress.

This is a GusGus

My cozy nest! 

I escaped to Vegas when a snowstorm hit Bishop. And as much as I love Bishop it's just soo sharp. My pain tolerance is lessening.

I'd never climbed in Red Rocks before, so I didn't really know what to expect. My first day in town I was solo and guideless out at the boulders, and it was an interesting experience. I don't often climb alone; I gain a lot of motivation from the motivation of others and usually find it hard to get psyched by myself. Plus it's always nice to be spotted. But this time was different, it was strangely rejuvenating. I've found myself climbing solely for the pureness of climbing this fall/winter, and it was heightened even more going out alone. Like I wasn't climbing for anyone but myself, which is how it always should be anyway. It was just different. I don't know how to explain it. Maybe I was just excited to be in a new area. And it wasn't that sketchy because I had just picked up a brand new big pad shipped straight to Bishop for me.

Anyway, the climbing in Red Rocks is loads of fun. I found the style a mixture of Joe's Valley and Hueco... both areas I'm fond of. Unfortunately Sebastian is a bigshot pharmacist, and was never able to make it out with us, but I had a really fun time climbing with Kenny, Ben Spannuth (he climbs 9a ohmygod!), Paul Nadler, and that one dude from the Citi Bank commercial.

It was great climbing with Kenny again. I hadn't seen him since his wedding a few years back, and hadn't climbed with him in even longer. We have very similar strengths and climb at the same level, so it was awesome to have someone to project boulders with! Plus... he's pretty much just all around awesome. AND he's a decent cook! That Julie is a lucky lady! (Check out Kenny's video on DeadPoint http://www.dpmclimbing.com/!!)

Speaking of his cooking, we went on this mini healthy eating protein kick (about two hours' worth--so epic) and came home with a massive five-pound salmon filet! Kenny cooked, it was delicious and lasted us like three nights. After living in the van for a couple of months it was nice to have a kitchen to utilize again. And a dishwasher.

This is only half of our filet! 

Back to the climbing. I did some stuff in Red Rocks; hard stuff, easy stuff, short stuff, tall stuff. I topped out an awesome highballish V9 in the rain called The Cat in the Hat or something.

Fear of a Black Hat

Photo by Paul Nadler

But nothing compares to the hike I made out to Stand and Deliver in Juniper Canyon. I was so destroyed I fell off the V1 warm-up. It took me two Lunchables, a Snickers bar and a Vanilla Coke to get any juice flowing back through my veins. The hike was probably around four miles (--?) and the last part was class five boulder scrambling. Not easy with crashpads and two-and-a-quarter dogs. It had to be a team effort on the doggie lifting. The hike was truly my most impressive accomplishment in Red Rocks. Lethal Design was nuthin’!

Lethal Design V12

Photos by Ben Spannuth

Oh and since we’re on the topic of hiking, you’ll find if you go to Red Rocks that the paths are common horse trails. Horses poop. A LOT. Way more than my four-and-a-half pound Chihuahua does. Horseback riders don’t stop to pick up their horse’s shit. So beware, you’ll have to walk through or around a lot of horseshit. And if you have a dog, your dog will try to eat it. It’s just a little absurd that I have to pick up my dog’s mouse-sized turds and they don’t have to pick up their horses’ Chihuahua sized turds. I was a little annoyed. Maybe I should write a letter!

Along with golf ball sized poo, there were quite a few douches hanging around some of their “moderate” projects. The first douche showed up wearing tight skinny jeans, a black cut-off T-shirt, crooked hat, and like forty tattoos. (No it wasn’t Max Zolotukhin.) And I’m not stereotyping him as a douche by his appearance, hello I’m not that shallow. My label came from his comment to my friend Julie as she was warming up on his project.

“Daaaang I wish I was short like you so I could use those intermediates!” He was serious.

Dude there’s not a height limit on intermediates. Use the smaller, shittier holds if you really feel like it.

Which brings us to our second douchebag experience: “The Clan of Douches.” Julie was climbing, I was resting/morally supporting. The clan was already camped at the problem Julie wanted to try, and conveniently they had the entire area all padded up.

The CLAN! (Yes I'm in this photo. No I'm not a douche.) 

Julie was the only girl working on the line. There are two ways to climb this thing: start on the big jug and dyno to the slightly less good, kind of awkwardly facing jug with your right hand. Or you could go from the jug to a funky slot crimp with your right hand and jump up left handed. One line, two methods, V7, and you dyno either way. So Julie and maybe two other dudes were using the crimp, all sixteen other bros were trying the dyno, everyone unsuccessfully.

Some mild comments started being made about what was the best beta, foot placement, blah blah, and then they start talking about how if you dyno skipping the crimp it’s V8, but if you use the crimp it’s V6. This went on for about ten more seconds until somebody referred to using the crimp as the “girl way” just as Julie was trying it. And that was about as much as I could handle, having done the problem (yes, it’s just one problem) both ways, by myself, with one crashpad and no spotter.

“It’s V7 either way!” I shouted to the douche clan. Naturally none of them took me seriously because that day I was only a female spectator, watching the real men work their tuff proj, so what did I know? Had it not been a crucial rest day I would have burned them off so hard! But alas… I was saving myself for a more meaningful rock climb. Julie was way over it by that point anyway, so we continued on our way. Ahh, douchebags.

My time in Vegas was winding down, and I had my sights set on one last problem. Book of Nightmares is back in Gateway Canyon. It’s a stunning, squeezy thugfest arête on the same giant boulder as Lethal Design. The crux is linking the second and third moves, but the problem is sustained, and refuses to let up the whole way through. It’s a little committing at the top, because the flat landing suddenly disappears and you find yourself over a pile of boulders. Nightmares was one of the hardest problems I’ve tried.
(There's a video of Paul Nadler sending the thing out there somewhere, I couldn't find it.)

Lately I’ve been in the no-project mindset, where if I can’t do something quickly that’s that and I move on. I think it’s because I was climbing in new areas and there was so much to try it didn’t feel right to have to spend two or more days on one problem when I knew I had a limited time. But Nightmares was different. Maybe there is something tantalizing about projecting a climb. My entire time in Vegas was spent eyeing it, staring at it, thinking about it, waiting for the right conditions, the perfect day. I knew it would be hard, but I also knew that it would be awesome. It was intimidating me, just sitting there, and I was almost afraid to try it because I knew how difficult it would be.

When we finally got on it, it turned out to be everything I was expecting. Powerful but complex, and so much fun. I saved it all up for that last day in Vegas, my last chance at doing Book of Nightmares. I felt strong and I came close; so close. In the end night fell, and I was exhausted and nursing a split tip.

It very nearly broke my heart walking away from it, leaving something unfinished. I hate when I can’t do things, because in my mind I can do anything. But finally having a project, and having to leave it behind, has been good for me.

The next day Fritz and I took off for Hueco, where we’ll be until ABS Nationals. I’m getting only a little tired of making these long hauls solo, Fritz is completely worthless as a driving companion.

I’m moderately excited about Hueco. I do have mixed feelings about this place. There’s a lot to do, I know I’ll be climbing with awesome people, and the donuts down here are delicious. On the other hand, the restrictions are obnoxious and frustrating, and I feel terrible having to leave Fritz behind to go out climbing after months of letting her run wild. It is her homeland after all.

Til next time.

My Scariest Boulder Problem!

This season for me has been all about getting high off the deck. I've been building up my mental resistance to the fear and have developed a pretty decent head for the height and my confidence is just right.

The highballs I've been climbing have been in Yosemite Valley, Bishop, CA and lately Red Rocks, NV.

Of all the beautiful and proud lines I've been doing you'd think the harder V8s, V9s and V10s would have been the scariest, but ohh no!--The most terrifying of all has been at the "easy and pathetic" grade of V6. If you've ever seen The Ninth in Bishop, and its fairly heinous landing zone, you'll know that this climb is neither easy nor pathetic!

After having done many other highballs preceding and following The Ninth, I have officially dubbed it My Scariest Boulder Problem (so far). My superspotter Kenny Barker, winner of the 2008 and 2011 World's Best Spotter Award, whole-heartedly agrees with me. "It was the scariest thing I've ever spotted; I never want to spot that problem again," Mr. Barker exclaimed.

I felt that since I had so passionately acclaimed this climb to be my scariest, it deserved its own blog post.

To get a feel for the height and majesty of this stunning arete sitting atop the highest part of Buttermilk Mountain, here is a series of shots of the send taken by Aaron Karres. (Click to enlarge!)