I’m heading off soon to catch the flight to Vegas, I’ll be off climbing in Red Rocks until Tuesday morning (when I stagger back home at 9 in the morning, rubbing my eyes and cursing work). In the meantime, here’s the artists impression of me in Red Rocks.
I went climbing on Sunday as well. At Franklin again (it’s in West Virginia, next door to Seneca). More accurately, I napped in the sun at the base of the cliffs, while everybody else climbed. I could have been an eager climbing photographer, but I was concentrating on my crag-napping skills, so I didn’t really have time.
Climbed at Seneca Rocks on Saturday, lots of routes, but very easy ones, in an attempt to keep my finger tendons happy.
The view of the rocks through the morning fog (and Boer and his ute, which he seems to believe is a truck – I told him he was dreamin’).
The view from the top – down to the bustling township of Seneca (look Mum, you can see my tent!), and the oddly geometric river junction with the ubiquitous Potomac (I think it might be following me).
And doing things the American way (well, the Seneca way anyway) – the rap anchors to get down from the South Peak.
Saturday was spent clipping bolts and avoiding the special detachable holds at Franklin River Gorge. Photo snappage ensued.
Jumpstart, 5.8.
Study in blue – on Castaways 5.8.
Vegas auditioning for a role in our climbing mockumentary as ‘constanty stoned, introspective and spiritual new-age hippy sports climber’.
Lessons from the day – At Franklin they mark the loose blocks and holds with an X; some climbs would be well served with a huge X across the whole damn thing – While wandering from cliff to cliff, always attach my down jacket to myself if it’s in its stuff sack, otherwise I will drop it and it will roll all the way down to the bottom of the gorge, where I will run into a southern fisherman who will think I’m a crazy person – Saigon Cafe in Harrisonburg VA has really really yummy Vietnamese food.
This is what my friends were up to back home over the Easter long weekend. I lament the fact that we don’t have the long weekend over here.
EDIT – Oh, and I was just reminded of the other thing I learnt. Americans call canyoning ‘canyoneering’, which tends to remind me of the Canyonero, from the Simpsons…
Can you name the truck with four wheel drive,
smells like a steak and seats thirty-five..
Canyonero! Canyonero!
