What am I doing!? I've only been back at work two days and already the desire to travel is creeping up. I've got friends headed to Kalymnos, Thailand, Indian Creek... and I want to join them all! Sigh... Oh well. I can't really complain and I don't think there's anyone out there that feels sorry for me. After 18 months on the road I am officially back in Vancouver full time. Yup, sitting at a desk and everything... At least I have the memories.

Speaking of memories I haven't told you people about our last day in Utah. Will and I had planned to do some towers but weren't sure which ones. There are a couple of towers right outside Moab that have a bit of a reputation for being scary. Scary and I usually don't get along but after hearing about Alex Honnold's free-solo of Moonlight Buttress I felt like I had to step it up. The gauntlet had been thrown down and it was up to Will and I to respond. We spent the evening researching topos and route descriptions before settling on Infrared, Iron Maiden and Dolofright. We figured we'd try Infrared first, then Iron Maiden, then Dolofright. In between each route you rappel to the ground so we could bail at anytime if it was taking too long or if I got too freaked out.

We woke up Saturday morning at 6am to get an early start. We grabbed a quick coffee and drove out to the towers. It was just getting light out as we sorted our rack (foolishly letting Will determine the gear we'd need). The height of the towers was visibly reduced by the scree slope in front of them and they didn't look 400' high like the route descriptions stated. We found the trail quickly and hiked up. Infrared was a four pitch route. The first pitch was supposed to be the easiest but I thought it had a few hard moves in the stem box. The second pitch was pretty straight forward but it was the third pitch, 120+ feet of wide hands and fists the terrified me. The fourth pitch was supposed to be the crux pitch but it was mostly face climbing and mostly protected by bolts. Knowing this I sent Will up the first pitch so we could swing leads and he could take the 120+ wide hands and fist. This turned out to be the right decision since we only had doubles in 3s and 4s (topo recommends triples). Will just ran it out. I would've cried. The last pitch was awesome. Exposed, steep and fun. Setting an anchor amongst the choss at the top was scary but fine. The last pitch was overhanging so we had fixed the tag line to the lower anchor and as Will rigged the ropes for rappel I reminded him to redirect the ropes through the lower anchor before continuing the rappel the full 60m to the second station. When he got to the lower anchor he looked down and saw the ropes touching the slab below the second station and thought he would just make it. As soon as he lowered away he swung out and even with bouncing was suspended about 10' from the bottom anchor. I lowered onto the top anchor and tried to swing him in. There he was, 60m below me suspended in the air and I was trying to swing him in. Fortunately he's pretty light (I mean he's buff and huge, but light) and I was actually able to swing him in. I was tempted to make him prusik the line :). We were back on the ground by around 10:30.

Next up was Iron Maiden. The first pitch looked the best, a 12- pitch with some technical corner work and the second pitch sounded terrifying, overhanging wide hands and fist, while the last pitch was a short, hard pitch that had recently had some pins replaced with bolts. Since Will had taken the utility pitches on the first route I hesitantly offered to take the second pitch and let him have the first and third. The first pitch looked awesome, of course Will styled it. I actually fell on this pitch jumping for a ledge (stupid, stupid) then took the rack and started up the second pitch. Leaving the belay was pretty hard and you had to traverse out left around an arete before getting any gear in. After that it was easy climbing up a corner, around a roof and then the overhanging wide hands/fist. I climbed a bit, placed some gear, climbed more, placed gear and then was looking at a runout to the anchor. I cursed Will for not bringing the recommended rack, downclimbed to grab more gear and continued up. Of course I laybacked the whole pitch but it worked! The final pitch was scary only because the holds looked and felt like they should explode off the wall. The final belay was about 20' below the summit so we had to solo one at a time to the top and then downclimb. You had to mantle the top and then down-mantle to get off. Probably the scariest part. The summit was only about 8'x3' and perched on other loose rocks as a little pedestal. In the high wind I was sure it felt like it was going to topple. We rapped off the far side and set up for Dolofright.

Dolofright is almost entirely bolted with some gear giving you piece of mind. The first pitch is the crux pitch all the hard moves were well protected by bolts. It was the moves between the cruxes, on delicate loose holds that provided to entertainment on this route. The moves off the ground were hard and a little tricky with just some old pins protecting them. I was pretty thankful to get the first real bolt clipped. From there it was a long ways to the next bolt on easy moves but scary holds. It was pretty much like that for the whole pitch. Most of the holds felt like they would break and you had to climb light. I was thankful for each bolt and really thankful to get the first pitch over with. Will quickly followed and started up the second pitch. I thought it was funny that the wind seemed to increase in intensity whenever he was the most runout. There were only four bolts on the final pitch. It was mostly easy climbing but rather than moving on tiny edges Will was forced to really pull on some large flakes. Even following on top rope I was a little scared. We both made it to the summit thought, took some photos and rapped off. We were back in Moab by 5:30, had dinner, talked quickly with Zack and set off for Smith Rock. Ok, maybe we didn't even come close to Alex's free solo but we still had a fun day and I was glad we had decided on those three towers.

We drove through the night, climbed a few pitches in the afternoon on Sunday and headed up to Trout Creek for some excellent crack climbing on Monday. Tuesday we drove up to Seattle and I put Will on a bus while I spent a few days in the Seattle area catching up with Audrey before driving up to Kelowna to retrieve some stuff and then drive back to Vancouver. There was a competition in Richmond that Audrey was competing in and I offered to help run a few routes for them. The comp went well and after that it was pretty much back to work Monday and Today.

So there you have it. Eighteen months on the road and I'm back in Vancouver. I'm not sure how long I'll be here but I'm hoping to make small trips around. If I do anything moderately exciting I'll post it up here.

Our time at Indian Creek has come to an end and we are leaving this weekend. In total we ended up climbing nine days in Indian Creek and two at the cave bouldering area. While I started feeling a little more comfortable crack climbing I am no where near the level of comfort I was hoping for. In hindsight it was incredibly egotistical to expect to become a 'good' crack climber in the short time I was here. It's just too different. I was backing off 5.10 routes, aiding 5.12- moves and even had a No Send day. I did enjoy myself though and am already looking forward to returning.

As planned last Saturday we hiked back up to The Wall. We carried two ropes and hoped to do some of the longer lines. I started by trying this 160' 5.10, perfect hand crack but ran out of gear about halfway up. I only had four pieces of hand size and it looked like the crack didn't change at all. I downclimbed the route, cleaned it and handed the gear to Will only to witness him climb 160' placing 7 pieces in the whole thing. Wish I could do that. The funny thing is it's not the hands that bother me. It's the feet and not knowing if I'll get more gear in. As far as I was concerned I was looking at a 80' runout to the anchors. As it turned out it wasn't that bad but I don't have the mindset to just go for it and 'hope' to find gear. Next up was Learning To Fly. Will went first and didn't manage to link the bottom section. I tried it again on toprope and managed to do all the moves, feeling a little more comfortable in the finger locks with bad feet. In between Will's attempts I tried to lead the route twice and got into the crux section once, but was happy that I committed to a scary (for me) gear placement off a bad lock. My third attempt was useless with the locks far exceeding my pain threshold. After five attempts Will still really wanted to do it but was in pain and exhausted. Amazingly he suited up once more and with the sun setting he gunned for the redpoint. On this, his sixth attempt of the day, he slowed down a litte bit and really made sure he nailed each finger lock. The bottom crux section looked easy for him but he was clearly tired and fighting for the redpoint in the upper part. It was pretty awesome to watch.

Sunday was supposed to be a climbing day and even though it was cold and windy we were going for it. As we drove to the cliff however my truck was almost blown off the road and we backed down. Instead we drove into Monticello and spent a few hours at a cafe there. In the afternoon we hiked up to some ruins located under one of the cliffs here. I was amazed that we were able to hike right up to, and into, the ruins. Years ago I went to Mesa Verde National Park and was impressed by the buildings but there you were really allowed to get too close to some of them. These were similar but not currently protected. Hiking up there and walking around wasted a couple hours but we were still forced to kill a few hours at the campground drinking beer, listening to music and playing cards.

The weather was a little sketchy when we woke up Monday but I wanted to get some photos of Will on Learning to Fly. As we started the hike up we could see a storm brewing on the horizon. Will wanted to stash our packs and wait it out in the truck (probably the smarter choice) but I thought we could make it to the cliff and seek shelter up there. We barely made it to the cliff before the first wave of wind and snow arrived. As we sat there we could see sun behind the first storm system. As the sun arrived we saw another storm system moving our way leaving a dusting of snow on the towers west of us. Taking inspiration from the Anasazi shelters we visited the day before I decided it would be best if we made a shelter ourselves. I almost threw my back and shoulders out moving rocks around but it was worth it. Once the sun arrived again we waited a little before climbing. Not long after Katie and John arrived having stayed in the campsite looking up at the cliffs and laughing at us. Not psyched to crush his fingers for no reason Will waited for the lighting to improve. While he waited I tried Learning To Fly a few more times, learning to stand in a thin crack and trust the crushing tightness around the one inch mark on my middle fingers, that's it. My best attempt got me into the middle of the crux sequence but even on my third try my fingers hand changes size enough that my sequence was no longer valid. Crazy I tell you... Katie gave it a few burns as well but the rain the night before had left a deposit of sand inside the crack, farther than my fat digits would allow me to reach and she slipped a few times, frustrated but vowing to return.

I had to rest Tuesday. My fingers were stiff and swollen and my upper body was sore for holding static positions on steep rock. Into town I went to sit in a cafe and do some work.

Wednesday was clear but cold and we decided to check out an area called 2nd Meat Wall. The hike was short and the climbs looked amazing. This was my no send day. In the fall, at The Red River Gorge I would set out to have 'no fall days'. Days that involved climbing new routes but hopefully either onsighting or redpointing them. I can't fathom the last time I had a 'no send day'... In my desire to improve and force myself to jam instead of layback and I decided to warm up on a 120' 5.11 that was a bad size for me. It was fun climbing with good rests but near the top it narrowed down a bit to finger stacks. I had run out of gear I was about 10' above my last piece and was only 20' from the anchors but was feeling super shaky, tired and scared. I started trying to downclimb to a rest but slipped on the downclimb and fell. As I hang in the rope I noticed I did have the size necessary, climbed back up, placed it and fought for the top. Even after lowering down my heart and breathe rate were still quite elevated. Next up was a 5.12- that went from fingers to wide hands up over a short roof. I felt good through the bottom but in the unknown zone between ringlocks and tight hands I started wavering. I made it to the good hands but for some stupid reason didn't bring enough gear for that size. Will said it opened up farther I again I climbed about 10' above my piece but couldn't see where the crack opened up, not for at least another 20'. I just don't have the mindset to push it into the unknown so again I downclimbed, lowered to the ground and grabbed more gear. I went back up and embarassingly it was casual climbing up to the roof where I could get bigger gear in. The roof however was really hard for my. It was wide hands with bad foot locks and I couldn't reach between the layback holds. After falling there I actual had to aid through that one move before continuing to the top. Another 12- was next. A super cool looking route that moved between cracks the bottom and finished up a bit of a zig-zag at the top. Right at the anchors it jogged to the right and tightened to finger stacks. A technique I can't even fathom. Once again even after resting and trying the moves a few times I had to aid a move before reaching the anchor. To finish off the day Will had convinced himself to try a heady route called E-Coli. A route with sparse gear, techy climbing and cryptic sequences. I'll be honest I wouldn't even get off the ground. The first piece was at about 8' but the next fixed pins were at about 20' with some tough moves in between. As the belayer I was ready to run backwards in case Will came teetering off. He made the pins then had to commit to a scary mantle plus another 10' of climbin before hitting a bolt. Again I had to be hyper aware but Will was steady up on the climb. Above the bolt it was 15-20' before the next piece, two pieces in fact but in this flake system that would probably blow out. More hard climbing followed that up into a crack system where Will forced in a tiny grey TCU. In that stance he plugged in another tiny piece but was unable to hold his position long enough to clip the second piece and as he started to slip out of his precarious jam he grabbed the upper piece, not trusting the grey or the two pieces 15' below him. I'm not sure I could have run fast enough to keep him safe. Although Will was incredibly disappointed that he 'chickened' out and grabbed the sling I was amazed at his composure from the ground to that point. I tried the route on toprope and it was an amazing route but I'm not sure I would want to lead it. That evening around the campfire I listened to the Canucks lose, pretty much eliminating themselves from the playoffs.

Our last day in the creek was Thursday and we went to Supercrack Buttress, an area littered with classic lines. I warmed up by very slowly climbing a wide-hands 5.10 that felt insecure for a long section. After that it was a 5.11 finger corner that felt pretty casual. Next up though I destroyed myself on this tight fingers, changing corner route. Will went first and fell at the changing corner section. The fact that he was placing blue TCUs meant that my fingers would not fit, barely a quarter inch. I tried anyway but even the tight yellow down below was incredibly insecure. I fell at the changing corner then fell again near the end of the blue TCU section so I had to reclimb that part. Then I placed two purple (number 0) TCUs and climbed the arete. Right at the top was some lighter rock covered in chalk and I grabbed it, started to mantle up and my hand holds exploded. I fell about 12' onto a purple TCU and it held! In Sandstone! I was happy it held and started back up. The hold up above was covered in sand and I fell again before finally hanging out long enough to dust the hold and top out. I'm happy to report that I finished off the day by toproping a route that I would consider my nemesis size. I climbed it slowly and with purpose and actually felt like I knew what I was doing.

Today is another rest day. Hopefully tomorrow we'll climb some towers. Our original plan was to try either Moonlight Buttress in Zion or to do three towers around here in a day. Unfortunately my pathetic mindset and climbing ability makes me climb really slow so we probably won't do either of those two plans.

Below is a guest entry from Will. After witnessing me flail miserably for the past three weeks I was interested in his perspective. He was far too kind. I would have made more fun of me if I was him.

Here is Will's guest entry. I think I should let him take over full time - Mike
The desert in the spring is awesome. The landscape is dry, sparse and BIG. Expansive. This place totally personifies the wild west: cows grazing, crater-pocked dirt roads, cattle guards, red cliffline and wide open spaces. Such a nice change from the moss-choked, overgrown, rainy west coast of BC. When I got back from Patagonia, grey rain was hammering on the grey sidewalks, temperatures just hovering above zero. Rough. So when Mike offered a ride to Utah, I couldn't resist.

For Mr. Mike Doyle, this trip has been a good learning experience, I think. He has improved drastically in the past few weeks. For a guy like Mike, who can crush rocks with his bare hands, crack climbing is a different game. Technique trumps strength 90 percent of the time. It is more about staying square to the wall as opposed to classic sport climbing movement: leaning and twisting and pivoting. But Mike is a quick learner, and he has figured out the sizes remarkably quickly.

Instead of dwelling on our measly climbs, I'd like to take a moment instead to comment on someone vastly more talented than us: Alex Honnold. In a few weeks here he basically onsighted everything or quickly dispatched it. He is strong, for sure. Mostly though, I think his real ability lies in his nonchalant confidence with everything vertical. He stays relaxed. And nothing seems hard for him. This morning I heard he soloed Moonlight buttress in Zion, an accomplishment that I can't really fathom at the moment. I tried it a couple years ago. Just thinking about liebacking 12d fingers with 500 feet of air below me freaks the hell out of me. Be careful my friend. Laybacking is laybacking. Feet slip.

Back to the realm of human beings without laser-focus and unshakeable confidence...

A couple days ago we headed to the Second Meat Wall to try our luck on some spicy faceclimbing/ gear climbing. I had heard rumors of an old Andrew Boyd route called 'E-Coli', featuring some funky moves past a pin and a single bolt. I have always respected Andrew's vision for bold, difficult trad climbing. In Squamish, Andrew took over from Peter Croft to establish the new-wave desperates. When I was in highschool, thumbing through the Squamish guidebook in math class, his name figured most predominantly. I wanted to be that good.

At the end of the day, I hopped on the route. The route looks totally improbable: blank faceclimbing to a steep seam. I booted up at the base, eager to discover some hidden secrets and figure it out. After clipping the manky old fixed pins I committed to an irrervisble mantle and clipped the bolt. Mike eyeballed his running path should he need to give me a gritstone-style belay to keep me off the turf. After clipping the bolt, more improbable climbing led to a gear pod that I eagerly stuffed with a couple cams. By this time the wind was threatening to blow me off my smears and I was a little spooked. I have seen sandstone explode before and I feared the cams wouldn't hold so good if I pitched. Nevertheless, I committed to the upper sequence and started punching for the top. Shaking, I stuffed in a grey tcu that surely would have ripped in fall. Next, I tried to back it up with blue Alien but couldn't clip the piece. I grabbed the cam.

I sissied out, and i'll regret that forever. For me, the most precious moments in climbing are when success and failure hang in precarious balance. Onsighting into unknown and scary terrain, shirtless and wind-chapped in the dying afternoon light: it's what I love most about climbing. I like it because it asks big questions, chiefly, "can I do it?" and "is it worth it?" Redpointing seems pretty mundane in comparison.

Today we are hanging in the Red Rock Cafe. Mike is doing work, staring at pages of numbers that I couldn't hope to understand. Tomorrow we will do a couple towers, I reckon. Then, we'll head home to the great white north where Squamish is hopefully warming up. I think this trip has opened Mike's eyes to the joys of trad climbing and I hope to recruit him for some projects this summer. Even though he hasn't quite mastered the thumb stack, let's not forget he can still crush rock with his bare hands.

Adios

Will