Not the Coast

So we got up early to do some climbing on the coast and ended up nowhere near our destination but still did some higher altitude climbing. The bolter and first ascentionist just before the ice gully slab.

Bishop (eventually)

The fact that I had been packed for a week did little to actually get us out the door much before dark.  An overnight in Reno turned into 3 days of not climbing.  Within 5 miles of getting onto the single road that runs directly into Bishop and odd orientation led our driver toward our eventual double circumnavigation of Lake Tahoe.  Luckily we got to the Buttermilks an hour before dark and finally on the fifth day climbed!  I took part in the first day of 5.10 or easier climbing but refused to play that game the second day at Owens River Gorge and sat under the Eldo roof in the river.  Finally we got an entire day at the Happy boulders and low and behold I couldn't climb a damned thing harder than V5.  I also managed to get a 1" cut across my middle fingertip and a debilitating head cold en route.  The camera battery ran out the night in the buttermilks so I got next to no photos.  Smith this week, can't wait.

This guy knows how to sell a car

Somewhere out of the way in Cali 

By far the best closed pass of the many we found
The end of the "9 hour drive"

Moon deer cry

Its been a rough week for all.  Not so rough that this is anything other than a girl splashing in a puddle.

Photo recap

North Dakota
Near the geographical center of North America

About which time I realized how jittery I was

The barren snowy landscape and fog


Montana
Just before twilight we hit the border and a small change of color


Of course dinner is served on the bumpiest stretch of track next to a wind farm.

Nearly a mountain sunset

Oregon
Mark leading at Skinner Butte on my first day out here

The walk in to Smith Rock

The goods

A land of shade and sun

The start of the downhill slide to Spring Hill

Off to Bishop once the rain stops.

Mouse crack

Facebook is trying to defriend you in real life.   Better yet I found a Messy Marv rap documentary in the parking lot of the local crag.  MY stridently claiming it to be worthy of being called booty, thus forcing a viewing, was the last resort to halt the mouse crack hunters.  Much booty was found.

Moshing in a coffee shop

Saw some shitty thrash metal from Madison WI and all but received a mutual beating from guys twice my size in the comfortable confines of the local coffee shop. Oh, and I started looking at a 11.c finger crack to mostly solo while it rains for the rest of the week before we leave for somewhere. Picture that