For My Friends

I have to say that I am quite sad to have left the illustrious town of Squampton. It is one of the most beautfiul cities I have seen and I am thankful to have seen it before the economic boom it is about to go through. I am very happy to say that my last night there was one of the best I have had in some time.
After a late start (6:30 pm) we went bouldering. I was fortunate to see my friend Jak send her V5 or 6 and Logan send his V9. It was amazing to watch such amazing displays of strength and grace. At about ten we came back to the campsite to participate in a little Swedish culture. Our friend Ricko was preparing some cheese fondue. WIth enough cheese for the whole Republic of China we began eating the kilo of cheese and bread (not sure about the metric conversion but its alot). Afterwards we cracked some beers and rolled some celebratory cigarettes and one of the most beautiful moments in my life occurred.
Ricko is here from Switzerland. He is a metal worker and he decided to take a three month vacation one day. He came here with "his friend" and set out for adventure. His journey ended up in Squamish, where he and ourselves were fortunate enough to be neighbors. He met some Swiss "clampers" who took him cragging one day. He came back with the biggest smile on his face and his friends Marco and Staffan were equally elated. He had a blast and the next day went and bought shoes for more. His second day of climbing was by far the best. The guys took him up an area classic called Diedre (6 pitches of 5.8) and then linked it up to the Squamish Buttress ( 7 pitches 10 C) to take him to the top of the Chief. And apparently he was hooked. He went bouldering several times after that and if his english were a bit better I have a feeling it would have been all he talked about.
So my last day a few of us went to town and bought him a present. When the fondue was over and the cigs were finished we handed him his brand new harness. Never have I seen someone so happy from such a small gift in all my life. "This is a dream," he said. He could not contain his feelings and demonstrated one of the most broken yet elogant vocal displays of emotion.
This moment was the highlight of my trip and I would have everything I own stolen if it meant I got to see that again.
So to all my new friends, I am truly feel blessed. No one in this is world is as lucky as I was to get to share such a brief period of time with such a great group of people. I cant wait to see "yall" again.

What a Day

June 19th
It was a glorious day in Squamish. We awoke late but due to the great weather we knew we had to get going fast. When it is not raining in Squamish one must take advantage of the open window. After a splendid breakfast (bananna pancakes) presented by the glorious Aussie/Canuck duo, we set out for a 15 pitch day up to the top of the Chief.
It was a great start to the day. After a short drive to the parking lot we set out up St. Vitus direct route to gain the upper buttress. The first pitch was 10c pitch led marvelously by the infamous Hardman from Tennessee. After some thin finger crack action (the crux was wet) Warren jumped out onto the ledge using his patented flying squirrel technique that he learned back home. I followed and cleaned the gear and we walked up the next pitch. It was 5.8 offwidth and the lead was mine. In forty meters I place the only four pieces that would fit the crack and set up a belay. Warren showed up a bit later and took the sharp-end on a two pitch linkup. Next was Memorial Flake which Warren was more psyched about and big snake took the lead again. All of this was to gain Memorial ledge and then set off for Memorial Crack. We were joined on the ledge by our Soloist friend David and shared some food and water. Warren Had been dying to do Memorial Crack so this lead was his also. David went ahead of us, beautifully demonstrating the cool head needed for soloing such a great route. He took the camera and shot some pics from above. Once above this, we marched up again for our linkup to the squamish buttress (squamptress).
The hike was quite brutal and we were engulfed by our hunger and thirst. We were losing steam but still found enough gusto in our reservoirs to hit it hard. I took the lead. Great big jugs sent me over a roof to a slabby face climb to a bolt. Once to the bolt I hit the crux. Everything up to this point was quite casual. We were talking to each other and laughing how I couldnt keep chalk on my sweaty digits. Then I hit the vertical business. Crimping and edging my feet on smaller holds, I fondled my chalk bag over and over but it wasnt helping. About eight feet above the bolt I hit the wall. Hanging on small hold, I threw my foot up in desperation just missing the foothold. Warren let out a shout, "yeah buddy'. But it was too late and I was spit off the wall and went careening down like giant ass rocket. About twnety to thirty feet later I was hanging over the edge wondering what the hell had just happened. I had fallen off a vertical face and bounced onto the slab and began sliding quite fast toward the roof I had been flying over so casually. And the jugs that had been so kind to me earlier now were the destructors of my body. Luckily instead of my face smashing into them I was saved by my ankle. Immediately it was gushing blood and we realized it was time to retreat. We began the ginger hike down to a rappel which was quite insecure looking. Warren went first and while he was descending I noticed someone getting in my truck. Warren tried to tell me it was just our friend David, but I knew what was really going on.
Earlier I had made sure the truck was locked. But this stranger dressed in all black had found a key. Once finally down the brutal hike we found the rock on my seat and the window shattered. My computer, wallet and cell phone were all missing. From here warren and I went picked up Steph at the campground and went to town to find the police. After talking to a very kind and courteous policeman and some locals about the tragedy we took our meager looking entourage to the bar for beer, food and cigarettes. These were the most soothing moments of the day.

More to come

Early Fathers Day

To My Dad

Right now my Dad is laid up in bed in his home in Euless, Tx. I am currently at least forty hours away and can in no way afford a plane ticket. And I just want him and the rest of this world that I love him. He had an unfortunate accident and is now left with only one good ankle and shoulder (for the time being). Your prayers would be most appreciated.

As a kid I have always looked up to my father and not because he is tall. My dad is the kind of man that people appreciate. He listens to what you have to say and always has good advice (whether its what you want to hear or not). My father is a smooth business man who has always done well with his personality and striking good looks.

Having said all that, me and father dont always understand each other. My memory is not so good. But for quite some time my father has insisted that I work. So he began finding jobs for me when I was thirteen or fourteen. These were mainly lawn mowing or landscaping jobs that he would set up for me. Which made me lots of money since I had no startup costs or gas prices to deal with (he set me up with everything). This dinero was in turn spent on comic books, sports cards or new equipment. My dad tried to convince me that I should save this money but I never did. Maybe thats the way it will always be. I have been on the road now for quite some time and everytime I have talked to my father he has mentioned some kind of new good job. "The border patrol would be good work. Its with the government." And he is right. It would be good work. I would have health care and benefits, but for some reason that is not what I want. And I dont know what I want so I will keep trying this and that and learning new skills. As for my father he found what he was good at early and stuck with it. He is still in the biz and every bit as successful as he ever was and I am so proud of him for that. And my dream one day is to provide for my family the same way he has for us.

My dad has taught me so much in these twenty four years that we have been hanging out. And I appreciate all of it. And the memories that we share together will always be cherished. Even the time you put that leaf you found on your foot in my coke while I was asleep. "Man this coke taste awful." Oh you were still drinking that?" Good times dad.

I love you Dad, and I pray you have a speedy recovery. I will be home soon.

I wish that I knew what I know now

What can I say. I have now been in the Chief campground now for about a week. Camping at the base of this grand monument to God and nature is truly enlightening. I am surrounded by cultures from all over the world that are suddenly thrown together to see what they have in common. One of my neighbors (Rico) is here from Switzerland not Sweden. He is a metal worker that is on a three month vacation. His english is not very good and he carries a pocket translator with him everywhere ("it is warry good.") A couple of nights ago we had a movie night in the campground. Rico couldnt believe it, "This is crazy, crazy!" I never would have thought that I could have so much fun drinking beer with someone from another country and finding words in his translator that make us all laugh. He calls climbers "clampers" and almost all of his r's are replaced with w's. We also have an Aussie geologist who has quit his job ( and it is quite a lucrative one in Aussie Land) to climb full time. He is problaby one of the best climbers I know and is also one of the most modest. He was working on his 5.13 project in the rain (sick). He is training right now for the Bugaboos, a climbing area in Canada with ridiculous approaches and hard climbing at altitude. He will be attempting the third free ascent of a hardman route on Howser Tower. Anyways I could go on about the people but I grow weary of being on the web.

Gypsy Life Really Isn't So Bad

I have now been on the road for over a month now. Being on the road for so long (really it doesnt seem so long) really opens up your eyes. Not only to just the beautiful sights and outrageous prices of gasoline, but the people you come across and things learned. I have aqcuired more knowlege of myself and this world more in this month plus than I have in a long time. Without the mind numbing (and yet stimulating) television at my disposal I have read quite a few books and when I go to the store I am more interested in what they have in paperback than I am anything else. Get home from a day of climbing or wandering around and what do you have to do? Re-organize your truck again, read, cook dinner, listen to music and crack a beer with friends. Man that sounds alot better than getting home from work and reflexively plopping on the couch and watching God knows what. So if I could suggest a few books to you the reader:

Culture Jam Kalle Lassn
Kiss or Kill by Mark Twight
Anything by John Krakauer
Anything by Edward Abbey
A New Kind of Christian
The Spider
Not Davincci Code (just a bad book)
Cash by Johnny Cash
The Alchemist
The 911 Report
Neither Here Nor There by Bill Bryson

There are many more that escape me for one reason or another but enjoy at least one of these somewhere off to yourself and imagine a life you would rather have. Then... make it happen.

Squamish

So the "gang" is back together again. We are a eclectic bunch, one that has stimied from the bogs of Tennessee to the wooded acres of Calgary. What a great time to go climbing. Squamish is so beautiful. When driving there you get a vantage of diversified landscape. Mountains on one side and the ocean and BC islands on the other. Then you round a corner and there is this huge granite dome called the Chief that fills your mind with all kinds of climber lingo that you may not even understand but say with a grace that would make a poet curious. And climbing this monstrosity of God's art is something else. Placements of gear are solid and feel like you could drop a Mack truck on them. And the reward of sharing a rope with your partner is a summit with a friend that you would die for. Climbing may not be a team sport but I learn alot more about a person 1000 feet up on the same rope than I do throwing a baseball or playing soccer. I love this life and I wish that everyone had this amazing opportunity. Maybe I'll see what I can do about that.

Canada

Let me just say beforehand that every country has its pros and cons. But so far as I have entered Canada I have seen so much beauty and kindness that I cant hardly find anything negative except maybe the border. Here I am, Ryan the American, ready to spend some coin in this country and it took everything I had to persuade the mounty at border that I actually did in fact have money to spend. I suppose its much easier to kick people out at the border than it is to extradite them from some far off region. And he wasnt exactly a mounty. He looked more like a SWAT guy who had killed to many people and was bumped down to border patrol. Or maybe he was a interragator in training. Some advice for crossing the border, be prepared to answer any question you can think of with mongoose like reflexes. Oh your driving a truck, what condition is it in? Do you eat cheese with a little mold on it? Whats the best wood for creating a deck in the Himalayas? Are convection ovens the way to go in your mind? Do you like Lyle Lovitt? Really? Something like that. There is no clear representable pattern but to them it makes perfect sense. Fortunately I was cool as ice and my Rusty Cage was not going to be rattled.

A Story

Today has brought to mind many things. Climbing and taking the sharp-end for the first time in a while made me think of a very bad memory.
"Dude your leaving tomorrow. Do you want to go to Tonk?" I told John that of course I did. If there ever was a place in Waco that I would call home it would have to be Tonkawa Falls. For a fox it would be the open field that held all the wonder of the world. Alot to say for such a simple place but mysticism comes in small forms and packs a punch like Liddell. Tonkawa is a bouldering area nestled into the area of Crawford, Texas. The area was formed by a waterfall (yes in Texas) that runs west to east. The limestone cliffs hold vast amounts of pocket madness and tendon crunching crimps. The route variations are endless and once there you pull the glasses off and see the beauty that is Texas limestone.
I started climbing four years ago and Tonk was the first bouldering I had done outside. I remember going out there day after day trying to get this one V2 that still remains nameless to me. I would work and grunt and not be able to pull it off. While my friend Ron would show me and then go work on a V6. I finally sent the bastard using my ape like wingspan and everything fell into place.
We had been going out there for a few years until the secret got out and the local fraternities decided to join in on our fun and jump off the ever so high (12 foot) waterfall. Challenging each other to make an even bigger splash than before seemed so rudementary. But hey, we were climbing rocks and falling on our asses for no other reason than to stand on top. Or so it may have seemed to them. I took about a ten foot plop on my back one day in front of all the soccer hooliganesque dudes and ladies. I was ok but my pride suffered the rest of the day.
Anyways, My last day in Waco was not quite what I had expected at all. I wanted to show John and Kelly a new problem. We were excited in the car, telling the same old stupid jokes that have always made a trip faster and much more intriquing. The ER joke was even bigger splash than ever before with a new twist. As we arrived we were not quite prepared for what we saw. The plan was to cross the river and warm up and then return to the other side. We sat in disbelief and saw the carnage. The side that had been wrought with vines and trees and supposedly indian artifacts was now a cleared out section of land. The trees, top soil and everything else had been cleared and pushed onto our slab of rock. Almost all the problems on all the walls were exterminated. I was speechless, I was without speech. I dont know who was responsible or why this had happened but I was overcome with rage. This was a private resource open to the public, but it sure as hell made me think of taking my Monkey Wrench Gang handbook out and wreaking some absolute havoc on some heavy machinery. But sadly we did no such thing. We attempted to make the best of it, but our charisma had been ripped from us like the trees of Tonkawa Falls.
And now I am gone and still dont know what happened. And I may never get back there.

Lady of the Hour

I need this lady to get back. She has been overseas now for quite some time and I have been away for a bit longer. And well I miss the hell out of her. She is doing this world some good and I am quite proud of her and happy to say I love her.