Pacha Video

New one from EpicTV, a little taste of my process on Pachamama through the lens of Tara Kerzhner this last winter. The footage is entirely from my first round of attempts on the route but there's a clip from the actual day I sent as well. Along with frighteningly cute farm animals and my ill advised attempt at a mustache. Enjoy!

Portal

Well here I am again. El Portal. My preferred neighborhood cafe as the staff is friendly and the wi-fi is okay. The coffee is acceptable but nothing outstanding. We came here almost daily during the winter. We would wear our down jackets inside and fight for the seat next to the dull heater. Last time I sat at this restaurant I was freezing and mostly heart broken. I feel quite differently now.

Today, a spring breeze whips through the narrow streets and gives life to the colorful drying laundry of this charming little village. The warmth in the air is so calming and pleasant. It's Easter - a huge holiday in Spain - and the town is bustling. Traffic clogs the main street as vacationers sprint to Andorra and search for picnics necessities at the Sunday market. The sun's rays are intense and white and come from high in the sky.

I feel grateful, I feel accomplished, my heart is full, the sun is shining. Life ebbs and flows doesn't it?



My process with Pachamama has ended. I did the route within a week of my return to Spain. It felt surreal to sit at the anchors, to realize something that for weeks and weeks I was obsessed and overwhelmed with desire to have. The moment I sent was calm. I yelled mostly to tell my belayer, 50 meters below, that I had clipped the anchor but I didn't so much feel the need to yell from relief or excitement. It was a strangely tranquil experience. Almost like, ' huh, well, here I am. This is the moment.' Not to say that I was not or am not excited. It was biggest, most powerful battle of my climbing life - without question. But I guess the finish, while hugely important to me, was also just a small piece of the experience. I imagine I will look back on this for my whole life. Silly... rock climbing.. huh.




Momentum has been a powerful ally to me for years. It's rare that I let a send, no matter how big, completely derail my stoke. I know that I've usually only got five weeks or so to perform at my very best and I don't want to waste it. I immediately moved to the right onto 'Jo Mama' 15a, a power endurance masterpiece with few resting positions and resistant cruxes throughout. Just some days later I had already sent. I never would dream that I could climb this grade so quickly, ever. The conditions suited me perfectly - warmer with wind - and my power endurance is likely at an all time high after the month at Potosi and some hard days on Pachamama. Still it seems unreal. For me there is at least 1 grade of difference between these two routes. Perhaps it just worked out?



As with before I've moved right along. This time to a much different style. 'Chaxi' 15a is bouldery and savage. Some great resting positions but also some very serious boulder problems high on the wall. I have a feeling this one will not let itself go as easily... time to get snappy. Onward!

This week expect a full account of my process on 'Pachamama' that I wrote for the Arcteryx Blog and also look out for the release of my Pachamama film that I made with the awesome Tara Kerzhner to be released on EpicTV.

Potosi

My first time climbing at Mt Potosi was in 2011. I drove down to Las Vegas in January with my good friend Chris Weidner - my first time to Sin City - and we gratefully crashed on the couch of Heather Robinson. As it seems almost every crag (save the Red) has its moments of popularity and subsequently its moments of obscurity - during this time Potosi was definitely en vogue. Professor Bill Ramsey was battling wet holds, Heather was prime to make her first 13d redpoint, and a grip of other Vegas locals happily enjoyed 'The Beach' (with the winter sun low in the sky, the cave remained in the shadow while the belays were cooking in the sun). I climbed 'Mon Pote Assis', 'Hold Your Fire' and 'Power Windows' among a few others. I enjoyed the scene and the community. While this specific cave did not speak to me in particular, the long days with the crew at this zone helped convince me to radically extend my trip to Vegas that year and eventually call this place a second home.





When I returned to the wall the next winter, I had a different experience. I tried a few different harder routes over a couple days and was utterly shut down. So damn steep, so many drilled pockets. It was not encouraging or motivating. In general, two of my least favorite forms of climbing are roofs, and heavily manufactured routes. While it would be unfair to claim the Clear Light Cave at Mt Potosi is nothing but said forms of climbing, at the very least it exhibits a lot of this. With a bruised ego and trembling biceps I swore off Potosi in search of greener grasses.

Engulfed with a myriad of other surrounding radical limestone areas, I would stay busy and overly stoked for the next five winters. Why I was eventually called back to Mt Potosi, I am not entirely sure, but reflecting on the last month there I am so freakin grateful.

So, why? Why go back to a zone that in many ways I detested? I shit talked Potosi over beers too many times to count. It felt so gratifying to hate this drilled up place that had kicked my ass. It's undeniable that Potosi is heavily manufactured, a detail that made the area famous at the turn of the century and was a central point of argument surrounding the topic. So why did I venture back and furthermore what about this place did I enjoy?




For the last several years, I've either been training my ass off or trying climbs at my limit. While that did produce, unquestionably, the best performances of my life, it also eventually lead to a string of failure - which is inevitable. A difficult year turned into a cold and foggy winter in Spain. I happily returned to my home of Vegas in February, a crew was stoked on Potosi.. sure, why not? Bathed in Nevada sun, I got my ass kicked - trying a style that is classically so hard and foreign to me. After some beat down sessions I gradually came around with a couple harder routes and was encourage to forge on. Then some weeks later I did the first repeat of Francois LeGrand's 'Bachelor Party' 14d and third ascent of 'Annihilator' 14c and 'Atlantis' 14b among many others. These routes may be egregiously drilled but are also an interesting piece of American climbing history and sandbagged like most everything from the 90's. Hard or easy, I climbed a new route almost every day - and it was so refreshing. It felt so damn good to just play, to learn a new style, to enjoy the company of good people, joke around, and to get my ass kicked but also have some success. So much fun. Something like an outdoor gym, but nestled in the quiet of the desert, without a highway or subdivision in sight. I never imagined that Potosi would help me remember why I love climbing so much but I guess it's impossible to predict from where the lessons will come.

Yesterday was my last day at Potosi for this year (dare I say, ever?), as I turn my attention towards my return to Catalunya in just under ten days. It would be a far stretch to call Potosi one of my favorite areas but I'm not gonna lie I will definitely miss my time up there. Best of luck to Vian and Alex and Andy to finish up their projects this season! Just say no to knee-bars!

Lastly - Joe Segretti is putting together a little edit of some of these classics and epic punting from the chains and Zeke dog, so keep your eyes peeled for a vid !

 

LV

Living in Las Vegas is something I look forward to every single winter. It's a moment during the year that would be really hard for me to skip over, even despite my shortening list of projects in the area. I've built a community here, I know this place, I know the crags and the opportunities quite well. It makes me happy. It feels like home. 

Coming off of a difficult loss in Catalunya I was by all means ready for some kind of happy place. As the days and weeks passed by I found a meaningful perspective regarding my time in Oliana and I felt suddenly refreshed. Spending some nights with my family in Colorado and eventually hitting the road westbound was such an awesome change of space. It was immensely hard to let go in Spain but my life has been driving forward in a beautiful way since I've been back stateside. 

The squad and the vibes here in Vegas are all time. The crew has been so fun, climbing days long and tiring. Desert sky wide open and piercingly blue. Stone is calling as always. Egos both crushed and filled. Quiet thoughtful approaches with Zeke dog rambling in the hills above. Just the way I love it. 

I've been clipping some chains which is an incredible pleasure. Some highlights include 'Reverse Polarity' 14b, 'Try Your Best' 13+, 'Hell Comes to Frogtown' 13d from the incredible Fred Nicole, 'Mixed Emotions' 14a, and recently 'Bachelor Party' 14d for its second ascent since 2002. I'm particularly proud of that one. I'm a history geek as you all must know by now, and this route has been in need of a repeat since it first came on the scene, just a couple years after Tommy Caldwell brought the 9th grade to American soil with Kryptonite. Francois LeGrand visited the states a bunch during this time and made this FA as his crowning contribution. Nothing like a savage double mono roof encounter at the bitter end... I thought for sure I hated Potosi after my few sessions there in 2011 but apparently, for now, it is just what I needed in some ways. Here's some iPhone send footage below thanks to Vian! The video starts as I leave the anchor rest on 'Ray of Light' 13a. 

And one more little thing for killing time if you're in need... I sat down and spoke with Power Company Climbing last summer, Kris Hampton is such a rad guy and he is doing very cool things with his training platform and inspiring many with the podcast. I've always enjoyed his calming presence and inquisitive attitude. Thanks for hosting me Kris! Have a listen to the podcast below: 

Process.

Pachamama. I've completely lost count, but I bet I've tried this route 35 days. My progress for the first month was very slow but tangible on almost every climbing day. In retrospect I did not at all arrive prepared - I built the necessary resistance and power on the route. Day after day. It would be late December when I finally one hung the route from a low point. Days after that I was regularly climbing into the red point crux from the ground. Albeit desperate, I felt confident that with my remaining two weeks I could send. Just a day or two into the new year I tore open my finger on an all out one hang effort - again from low on the route. I took nearly a week off from climbing for skin and something different. While my skin healed my body weakened. I returned to the route with a significant loss of progress and stoke. After beating my head against the wall again and again over the next week or so I finally began to crack. Last Monday in freezing cold, windy conditions I finally accepted failure, and in a desperate need to enjoy climbing again I (for the first time since Nov 28) climbed on something different. I did T1 Full Equip 8b+/c, which was outstanding, and so fun. Last Tuesday morning I decided that it would be my final day of attempts on Pachamama.

So much of my life pivots around climbing. I am full-heartedly passionate about it. I am so driven by goals that at times I genuinely feel as though I can't move forward in my life until I succeed. Usually this is a strength that pushes me to my very best, but in times like this it can be downright maddening. This is the longest period in my climbing - ever - that I have gone without accomplishing a goal (since September) and it's certainly not for lack of trying.



I am not (one of) the best, I am not (one of) the strongest, I am not (one of) the most talented. My strength is mostly in the fight. This route has pulled me to the bitter edge. How long am I willing to hold on? When do I throw in the towel? At what point is it just.. simply too much? I have never tried a route so many times before in my life. This is not at all about the grade any more, it's not about the victory or about the high fives or about the accolades. In some ways it doesn't even feel like a climb, it just feels like a challenge. This is purely about my passion and to what extent can I endure all of the doubt, all of the tension, all of the emotion.

Remember when I wrote last Tuesday would be my final day? On my first try I fell on the last move of the 'first half' - an enormous move that's incredibly hard for me. I've likely fallen here 40 or 50 times. On my second try, I climbed through this move and well into the red point crux, falling a couple moves from a likely send. Dru (my good buddy and climbing partner) laughed as he lowered me, 'Well, fuck' I said, 'suppose I'm not giving up quite yet'. This was the first time I had reached this part of the route since I tore my skin open. Each of the next two climbing days I fell in the lower section again, but proceeded to do the huge move, rest on route, and climb to the summit. Saturday I climbed twice into the final moves of the red point crux, with my first try being my best, essentially 1.5 moves away from the route's best rest and a very likely send. Today I somehow bested that effort, but fell just a breath away.

I love this. As maddening as it is, as stressful and expensive and altogether pointless in most respects -- climbing somehow uniquely elicits such powerful emotion and introspection. I feel thoroughly tested, delirious from desire and uncertainty. When I climb Pachamama it will be unquestionably my hardest (mentally if not physically) route and furthermore one of the greatest achievements of my life thus far. I move into my final few days here, after extending my ticket twice. I never quite knew if I had the strength to hold on for this long, through so much doubt and through so many utterly exhausting ups and downs. Now I know. I do.

Venga

Quite the fast-foward here I know. Sometimes that's the way life is though. I left a summer living in Estes Park and drove straight to Southern Idaho. Long, cold nights. Beautiful stars. Tear inducing sunsets and many mornings with tea, alone. Good friends were also there, long sessions trying an incredible roof boulder called 'WarPath' but the stars never aligned for me on this one. Something that would unfortunately become a bit of a closing theme for 2016.



I escaped back to Colorado and began a rigorous training program. Putting all of my energy forward for an upcoming trip to Spain. A few little objectives mixed in there, some fruitful, others not. I built confidence in my training and tried to look ahead.






Well here I am, nestled into this stone-built restaurant just after 10 am. Indoors, but still I'm wearing a puffy. Two sixty-something men across from me share laughs and a glass of red wine. The bar is full of long haired story tellers, with smiles and a posture that hints to some gnarly adventure that they've enjoyed. This place that I have come to call home, Organya, is mostly known for its incredible Paragliding. Furthermore we have come to know it as the place that's always sunny. An inversion and a formidable creeping fog engulfs much of central Catalunya during the winter. It's hell. Alas, a little ways into the Pyrenees or near the sweet Mediterranean and you'll find reprieve.

I've been here for over five weeks. Friends coming and going, meeting strangers that become close in an instant. We've all made memories together exploring. Meet the vibrant, after midnight streets of Madrid or the beer bars of Barcelona. We've watched Spanish TV, unwillingly been towed to France, Partied, ate well, collectively turned a corner and said 'Wooooowwww!' too many times to count. I've made a sea of memories in the last 5+ weeks that I'll keep and cherish.




The climbing. I've never tried a route so much before in my life. When I first arrived I felt like the thought of a send was nothing more than a joke. I drew inspiration from my friends that have punished themselves on a route seemingly above their level. For months, years even - eventually meeting victory. Slowly I made progress, most days I would make the smallest, albeit tangible, progress. Just enough to keep me going. Suddenly I broke through. The links became longer and longer, I started to have confidence that I could at least get close. And last week was truly the turning point. I climbed twice to within one or two holds of the final rest - making it to this rest is a very likely send for me. Then on the next try I went from very low on the route, all the way through the finish to the anchor. For the first moment I felt confident I would send. Looking down I noticed blood on my hands. My skin had torn open in the sub zero conditions. A severe set back, I took nearly a week off - escaped to Madrid to forget about climbing and see something new.







Now I'm back. My ticket is extended, my skin is healed, but it seems my progress could be lost.

It's hard to really communicate here, but this is so much more than a route to me. For years my strength has been patience. My strength has been in the act of hanging on. Not as in hanging on to the wall but hanging on to the process. Like a raging, spinning bull there are so many moments when your body and mind tell you to let go - to end the doubt, the suffering, the ride. I'm hanging on like hell but damn it is taking everything I have. My experience on this route has been deeply emotional like nothing I've ever quite experienced. It has been months and months since I had a win. Perhaps it's because I am truly reaching my limit, if not physically, mentally. No tricks or short cuts or easy outs here... I know that if I want to send this thing I have to walk up the hill and try to the death every day. Anything more than that is unfortunately out of my control.

I really want the lesson to be that I held on through so much doubt and sacrifice to finally, finally meet success in the sweetest, most relieving way, most heart opening way. But I also know that it's just as likely that the lesson could be; sometimes you give every fucking ounce you have and it's still not enough.

Two weeks left here, I accept whatever the outcome is. Venga vichos.

Farewell Chaos

I closed out my Chaos bouldering season this past Monday with a win on one of my favorite boulders ever, 'The Shining' V13. Monday was really my last opportunity to climb the boulder because of an ultra busy week ahead. It seems that no matter what the project, what its implications, how hard or how amazing... each time I find myself tying in or chalking up, the project looming above me is the very most important thing in the world. It's captivating, it's everything. At times I'm sure that the stress is a detriment to performance and certainly looking back it always seems far less important than it was in the moment. But this kind of involvement is what I thrive on. And this feeling is driven to new heights when I feel the pressure of a closing weather window, or the end of a trip, or failing skin. I love it.

I finished The Shining in a few tries on Monday so I was left with some time to play. Nate Drolet and I wandered down to Upper for 'Eternia' V11 - an amazing, long roof problem that he was really stoked on and I had been hearing about for years. Underclings forever on this thuggy boulder, with a wild feet-first ending. Truly a memorable climb. We both sent and we took our pads down to a trailside turd of sorts, but the movement was great! 'McFly' V10 to finish the day.

On Tuesday I had an afternoon flight to visit family in Wisconsin so I had to get out early if I wanted a quick bouldering session. Erin Ayla meet me in Moraine Park and gave me a quick tour of some of the many boulders she and he boyfriend Ian Cotter-Brown have been developing over the spring and summer. There are a grip of new ones out there, and still many more to be done. 'The Last Crusade' V11 is a stunner curving rail that ends with a compression feature. An outstanding problem. Next I did 'Tainted Tick Marks' V10 or the Flood Money Direct. It doesn't look like much but it has some really cool movement and packs a punch for a relatively shorter problem. I cruised back to the car by around 10:30, packed up my life from Estes Park and took off for DIA.

So very stoked and ready for the Idaho Mountain Festival this weekend and life on the road after that!

A few goodies to keep you stoked moving through the end of the week...

I did a second interview with Neely Quinn and the Training Beta Podcast that she just released - I always love linking up with these guys and I think we covered some interesting new terrain in this conversation. Have a quick listen!



And here's a raw cut from back in Squamish of my ascent on Tom Wright's incredible 'Spirit of the West'. Enjoy!

Begging for Power

100% bouldering since I last wrote. I can't remember the last time I put on a harness but I bet it has been nearly a month at this point. The initial week after my mission on the Diamond I was nothing short of destroyed. I tried on several occasions to get out, or even to climb a little bit in the gym - and it was pathetic. I knew that I would have some work to do in order to get back into snappy, powerful, bouldering shape - but honestly even two weeks into bouldering mode I was quite frustrated to see relatively no progress.




I hiked out from Chaos many evenings with my tail between my legs, but the sun setting on the Keyboards of the Winds was always enough to cheer me up. I kept banging my head and hands against the wall and finally I broke through. 'Flood Money Sit' V10 was my re-entry to bouldering double digits - something I had not done since March (aside from cruxes on routes I suppose). 'Golden Rays of Flows' too me back into the V11 realm, and after several more days of efforts and a short round of finger training I climbed 'Irreversible' V13 - this was the first time I had climbed the grade since last summer.




'Comb my Hair like God' V11/12 was next up, but not before an agonizing session sorting out awful beta on my own and subsequently failing on the final move. My main goal for this bouldering stint, and one of my main goals for the year for that matter, was to climb 'Wheel of Chaos' V14. A brilliant roof problem way up in the top of the Canyon. I absolutely love this problem. It's 25 moves long and combines a short section of pure muscle-roof, a resistant and reachy steep crimp zone, and a technical and footwork intensive finish. The rumor is that Jimmy Webb fell on the very last move for the FA. Despite me myself feeling super solid on the finish (my kind of climbing) I took the plunge with my hand wrapped around the summit, move 25, the bitter end. Thankfully I had enough in me to try again, and finish the problem. One of my all time favorites.

The next day I climbed in Upper and cleaned up some classics. 'Skipper Left' V11 and a scary flash on 'Baby Otech' V10. The real win though, however, was back in Lower this past Wednesday. I had tried 'Gobot' maybe 3 years back for a short time. Decided I was too scared and weak, and moved on. Last year I tried Gobot briefly as well. No dice. This year I wanted it pretty badly. It's a brilliant problem, and sometimes the ones that have eluded you for some reason or another hold a special kind of allure. Shortly after my mission on the Diamond I hiked up to try Gobot three separate days. Falling on the last move, I almost became certain that this now would go on my 'never' list. I even had apprehensions about trying it this last week - despite knowing that I had improved so much since August. There's a move at the very end out left to a strange pinch that is just outside of my reach. I tried all the methods to get this hold but it was clearly not in the cards for me - 2 or 3 inches too far. Instead I was grabbing a pretty serious right hand crimp and a horrible left hand spike and making an all out pounce to the finish. I tried the finishing move on Wednesday and immediately felt like the right hand edge had doubled in size - an incredible feeling. My hand strength was back! I did the problem first try from the start. It was extremely rewarding. On paper (V11) this is nothing noteworthy but it's actually the longest I have ever worked on a boulder problem so for me it felt special.

Feeling the strength and snap come back is super motivating, and although I planned to transition back into routes right about now, I am going to ride this high for (what I hope) will be a couple more nice sends before I pick up the harness again.

Rocky Mountains

Since I returned from Switzerland life has been amazing. Switzerland almost felt like something of a 'reset' button for me. Amongst the rain and the hustle it was oddly centering. Coming to the US last month felt very refreshing--  surrounded with old friends, familiar zones, clear goals, family, Zeke. I'm always quickly reminded of how wonderful Colorado is, and how amazing the summers can be here. Up next was a quick trip to Squamish for the amazing Climbing Academy there, a quick trip to Salt Lake City for the Summer OR show, and a change in gears. I spent the next few weeks hiking and climbing and preparing for a route I've been dreaming of for years, the Direct Dunn Westbay on the Diamond. In an emotional fight to the death with the strong support of my Dad, Bob Siegrist, we completed the route last weekend. I wrote about this experience on the Arcteryx Bird Blog -- go and check it out!

Cam Dog photo from the crux 80m pitch on the Direct Dunn Westbay. 

Squamish, climbing the incredible 'Spirit of the West' 14a

Now I will try to switch gears again. Alpine climbing is so demanding and tiring to the whole body. The kind of exhaustion I felt the days after my ascent on the Diamond are very distinct - and debilitating. I have a few more traditional routes on my radar but I really feel I need to play catch up and prepare for my fall of sport climbing at this point. Back into performance climbing mode... not an easy task. I will use outdoor bouldering to try and jump start the process. Things feel hard, my body is no doubt still recovering, even almost a week later. But if I want to carry on with my goals I need to think differently again. Intensity over volume. Power over stamina. It's incredible how the body can adapt if you give it the right stimulus. Wish me luck!

A little taste from Swiss!!