Onward

Lilah enjoying some quality time with her favorite people just before we left Wyoming.

Traveling cuts into my free time left for posting photos and I've been traveling a lot.  After Kirk and Crystal showed up at Ten Sleep, we climbed a few more days and then had to split.  We caravaned through Yellowstone and I took a bunch of photos of one of the most amazing places on the planet.  As American's it's easy to forget how amazing our own country is.  We get stuck envisioning far-off lands in the Himalayas or Australia and maybe overlook the fact that one of the world's most unique and beautiful places is so close to home. 

The Western Tanager is a pretty little dude.  This species was first identified by Lewis and Clark.  They used to be a big deal.  Maybe you've heard of them?

Nevermore!  The Raven is an ugly, nasty, creature.  Edgar Allen Poe used to carry one on his shoulder to pick up girls.  When it died he stuffed it and put it in my Uncle Bob's restaurant...I think that's how the story goes?

This what I'm talking about.  Yellowstone is the only place in the world where you can see a bison herd in a sauna. 



  This is what those duders look like up close.  Seems like evolution would have made them more aerodynamic?

This is the river those Lewis and Clark A-holes were following on their birdwatching hike.

  

Another stupid waterfall.  For perspective, look for the 40 or so people standing just right of where the water pours over.  I wanted one of them to jump so bad!

Hot water comes out of the ground here, just like my faucet.  This is supposed to impress me how?

 More hot things.

OK, I get it!  Hot stuff comes out of the ground!  Dammit, give it a rest man.  

  Top secret free camping spot.  Guaranteed to wake up to the perfect view. 

I love the Tetons.  No other mountain range juts up from the plains with such visual force.  It's like Gandalf himself, rose his staff and created an impenetrable wall of stone and ice to stop an invading army.  Gandalf or Moses, or someone...  Nearly a decade ago I spent a few months living in Dubois which is just over Togwotee pass.  I didn't get much time off from work then but every two weeks I'd get two days.  During the summer months, I'd use one of those days to go climb a Teton.  I ended up doing four of the five.  I didn't do the lower (the one on the left) but I soloed the other four.  I was probably 23 and looking back, I was probably as cardiovascularly fit as I ever will be.  The middle Teton is a hike, Teewinot is a scramble, The Grand has one 5.5 move and some scrambling but Owen was a particular challenge. 

If you look at the photo, the rightmost peak is Teewinot and the one just left of it is Owen.  It's hard to tell from the 2-dimensional view but Owen sits 'behind' the other peaks.  The approach is much more difficult and the climbing is too.  The challenge of Owen for me was that you have to climb a long couloir of snow and ice.  The degree of slope is probably only 30 degrees but the thing is about 400 feet high.  For someone with crampons and axes this would be very mild.  I didn't have any ice gear at all so I was climbing the rock on the right side of the gully which ended up pushing near 5.8.  Near the top I realized I had to cross the couloir.  I was wearing shorts and some five ten guide tennies with slick rubber soles that are great on rock but disaster on ice.  I looked across to the other rock wall.  It was only 12 feet away.  Between me and the security of the other rock wall was just 12 feet of hardened snow.  I had one hand on the rock and I was desperately trying to kick steps in to the snow.  I'd get just a dimple in and try to weight it and my foot would slip. 

I couldn't believe it.  I was so close to the top and this 12 foot span of snow was going to stop me short.  I knew that once I let go of the rock and started to traverse left, one slip would be a 400 foot slip and slide to the bottom.  So many things go through your head right then.  All the pressure of knowing this is your only chance.  I knew I had to do the climb but then you think about how bad it would suck to fall...and your brain just goes back and forth.  I am not ordinarily a soloist and I don't do stupid things.  I wasn't going across unless I was solid and I wasn't.  But right as I was about to bail I reached out and found 'holds'.  The ice climbers that had come days before me had left little holes in the ice with their axes.  And they were deep.  I stuck my middle finger in the hole, kicked a half-assed step and ventured out.  No problem!!! 

It was crazy.  Every time I needed one, I found another hole for my finger.  I freaking mono'ed across that thing!  Hahaha!  What a trip.  I found myself on the other side, scrambling solid rock forever.  The final stretch toward the summit is a knifeblade of perfect granite.  The top is a jug rail that stretches for 200 feet and I was smearing my five-tennies and surfing up Owen with Idaho about 2000 feet below my soles.  I have never felt so invincible in my entire life.  And that day I was.

  

On the summit, by myself, I slowed down and thought about reversing the couloir traverse.  Not psyched!  Unbelievably, I actually found a rope.  How does that stuff happen?  I was able to sling a block and tension across.  No big deal.  It's cool to look back and remember experiences like that.  I was a different person then, but I did that!  It was me, and I was the only one there.  Up there in those Tetons having my own personal adventures with no one else around.  Crazy to think about.

So back to the present.  We left the Tetons and headed down to Maple Canyon, Utah.  It was the worst climbing experience of my life.  I can't believe that place is as popular as it is but if you don't have something nice to say, don't say it at all.  So I will stop there, having already broken the rule.  We left and went up to Logan Canyon, Utah.  The climbing there was much better and there was no one there.  All the people were at Maple.  What???  We stayed a week, I climbed on the famous upper portion of Super Tweak to check it out, did a few other routes, didn't take a single picture, and then headed to the outdoor retailer tradeshow. 

It was crazy, just like everyone says.  I can't believe how big this industry is.  I saw a bunch of good people, made some great connections, had some productive DPM meetings, and then drove to Rifle.  I climbed one day.  I have trouble getting really excited for something at Rifle.  Perhaps it's because it's very difficult climbing?  I don't know, but the cool temps of the front range were calling so I blasted out and arrived in Estes Park this morning to stay with my friends Nick and Katherine.  They have a sick set-up here.  Five minutes from Estes, which is the hub for high alpine climbing conditions. 

We climbed today at the Wizard's Gate and I'm very excited to go back and finish off some classico Jstar rigs.  The aptly named 'Cloak and Dagger' climbs a technical, blank-looking, shield of stone to a good rest then ventures out an intimidating and severely overhanging arete.  It is a great climb and we all joked Tommy Caldwell for not seeing that route before Jonathan bolted it!  It is classic!

The tentative plan is to stay here for a week then head back to Ten Sleep to meet up with Devlin, Anna, and Chanti.  I can't get enough of that place.  After that I'd like to come back here and climb with Nick.  He is a great partner that was kind enough to hike up to the Wizard's Gate with me on his rest day.  I will tell you the hike is no rest.  I was astounded to find out that the GPS said it's only one mile but with 1000 feet of gain.  It felt much further.  The crag is at 10,000 feet so breathing on route is difficult.  We'll see what happens.   

   

The Mt. Crushmore Chronicles: Part 3

We are having trouble leaving Ten Sleep.  Not sure why. 

Surfers have some kind of slogan or mantra they abide by.  Something like: "Never pass up a day of good waves in hope that they'll get better tomorrow."  Sure, we could head on down the dusty trail for Lander or Maple Canyon but it's so good right here.  The skies are blue, the air is cool, the crags are uncrowded and those that do show up there have become our new friends.  In addition, our old friends from Fayetteville, Kirk and Crystal, just showed up.  Lilah is psyched to say the least.

We had a cumulative three projects that needed to be taken care of before leaving and 2 of 3 are done.  I finished up F'd in the A and Elissa fired off Blue Light Special leaving only the pesky Kyber Space for the Colinatrix.  Not a bad route to spend time on though...      

Kyber Space 5.13a/b: my wife ain't scared at all. 

I'm also excited to stick around and shoot a bunch of different video angles of this route.  It's pretty photogenic and I think I'll be able to put something good together.  I'll probably find some sicky rigs to climb in my free time at the crag.  There seems to be an abundance.   

Lord Kirkules drove 30 hours, got out of the car and onsighted The Great White Behemoth (5.12b) in its smug white face.  Simon Carter photo.  (Believable I know.  Don't be ashamed if you were tricked.  Most will not believe that I took this amazing photo.)

I put a little more video together but it's kind of half-assed as usual.  Still worth watching though if you're my mom but if you're anyone else...probably not.  Some footage of our friend Blake Cash climbing on the absolute best route at Ten Sleep, Hellion (5.13c).  With perfect rock and great moves including a shallow one finger pull at the crux, Hellion is certainly the best 5.13, if not the best route at the crag.  It must be said that video magic was used to portray a clean ascent but the truth is, Blake's patience wore thin and he headed back to the knee-bar promise land of Rifle, Colorado before clinching the redpoint.  It's apparent from the video that Blake is absolutely capable of the route and I'm sure he'll be back for it soon.  

The second half of the short video is from one of our best days of the trip.  The fourth of July, 65th annual Ten Sleep rodeo.  As you'll be able to tell, this rodeo is the real deal right down to the spectators.  Look for the Mutton Bustin', my favorite part, where small children are set atop sheep and then ride them like bucking bulls in a race.  Carnage ensues to the delight of the onlookers.  Much like Thunderdome, many children enter Mutton Bustin' but few leave unscathed. 

Click on the Crushmore Crew below to see the video. 

 

     

Nothing is more American than getting thrown to the ground by a wild animal

Landing hard on American soil. 

America, meet my face hole. 

I challenge you to find something French in this photo.

Any of you other countries want to tackle this horse with your bare hands?

Happy Birthday, America. 

Hold on cowboy, this ain't my first rodeo.

I've got some video to go with these photos.  Just gotta put it together.  I hope everyone enjoyed being American today.  I did. 



Mt. Crushmore Chronicles Part 2: Ten Sleep

Note:  This blog post sucks.  Please don't read it.  Something has happened to me today and my sense of humor has been replaced with nostalgia and contemplation.  The following is full of nothing but subtle spray and arrogance.  Do yourself a favor and look at the pictures, scroll to the bottom, click on the Crushmore picture and watch the video.  The beginning is funny and you can see what the sick rock climbs in Ten Sleep look like.   

It has really been a treat climbing here at Ten Sleep.  The limestone here, especially on the harder routes, is the best I've ever touched anywhere.  And to top it off, it's exactly 'my style'.  I guess that means the 'style' of route I enjoy climbing the most coupled with the 'style' I excel at.  Endurance crimping and pockets on gently overhung face.

I put a lot of expectations on myself to perform well and despite knowing that I'm doing alright I don't think I'll ever be satisfied.  Case in point:  I sent a 5.14a first try of the day.  Now most of the time I would be happy with that result and spend the rest of the day just having fun and climbing with no expectation.  I put my draws on the 14a just to the right and started the mega-dog sesh.  It felt hard.  Harder than the last one.  I expected to put a few days of work in before sending.  Instead, at the end of the day, I found myself clipping the last bolt, on redpoint, and staring down the final crux.  That little thought crept into my brain, "How cool would it be to send two 5.14's in a day?"  I stared down the move and knew that what was about to happen would make or break a lifetime achievement.  30 years from that millisecond that was about to happen I'd be able to look back and say "I did that" or "I didn't."  I chose the latter and fell. 

I hold no allusions about the fact that I will not have that opportunity again.  5.14's are a rare breed and finding two, side by side, that suit me perfectly, in perfect condition is a once in a lifetime opportunity.  I cursed and wobbled and let my temper tantrum slowly recede from denial into anger into depression...(wait, did someone die?)  I know, I take climbing seriously.  But, after a long hike out and plenty of overanalyzing I've come to a point of acceptance. 

I've realized that I'm not going to achieve all my goals in climbing.  I don't know if anyone will, unless they set them so low as to be achievable.  My life list of routes I'd like to climb is staggeringly long.  To Bolt or not To Be has been at the top of that list since day one.  I like to think I'll move to Oregon for a year and do it but that's probably a pipe dream.  Though I might end up in Australia on a climbing trip I'll probably punt on Punks in the Gym and who knows when I'll be back in France for Le Rose et le Vampire.  I might actually not send my mega-proj at the New!  That thought is downright depressing.  But I'm slowly coming to a point where I can accept these things. 

And the funny thing is that these goals seem to be more of expectations.  I don't become overjoyed when I accomplish one, I just make the mental tick and move on, usually adding something else to the list instantly.  Another case in point:  It's been a life goal to onsight 5.13b.  I guess I did that yesterday but it felt so easy that it somehow didn't count?  I've tried much harder to onsight 5.12b's.  Does that mean the route isn't hard?  Don't ask me.  Point being, I didn't feel satisfaction afterward.  In fact, it's never been a goal to do 2 5.14's in a day!  I somehow conjured that one up in a split second just before blowing it so that I would have something to be dissappointed about!  Jeez...what a headcase. 

All I know is that climbing has been so all encompassing for me for so long now that I've lost sight of how far I've come, the places I've seen, the trips I've been on, the satisfaction I have felt.  Somehow I get lost in the moment of constantly pushing myself to do more, all the time, always better.  It's pretty lame in a sense.  But that desire, always nagging, has kept me healthy, alert, and alive.  It's kept me from getting old!  I'm still 23 bitches!

In a bizarre twist of irony, Max looks on mockingly as a bronze 1986 VW Troy look-alike gets hooked up to the tow truck in the background.

My mom likes to remind me of when I was a wee lad.  I think probably 20?  I used to talk about how someday I would send a 5.13a.  I thought that was going to be the pinnacle of my achievement.  In my eyes, everything beyond that was reserved for Chris Sharma and other super human, naturally gifted athletes.  I clearly remember that day at the Obed, TN.  I sat there beneath the Dark Half and stared at it.  I had punted a few times already and knew nothing about redpoint tactics.  I chewed on my tuna sandwich and stared at the holds.  All of a sudden the holds took on meaning, I asked myself why I fell, analyzed the answer and changed my sequence from the ground.  I tied in and sent.  That day really marked the beginning for me of understanding how to accomplish my goals.  I 'learned' how to 'learn' if that makes sense.  Here I am 200 5.13's later and now I get upset if I don't do them first try.  What the hell? 

I wrote a little piece about it that you might get in your inbox if you have a DPM account.  If not here is another 'radio friendly' version of the same thing I just said:

Opportunity Doesn't Knock

As I brought Andy up I could feel a sinking sense of failure on the route and the huge waste of opportunity. I started to wonder if the odd missed training session here and there would have made the difference? Should I not have eaten this or that? The chance to be on this route, in good conditions, with a good partner is so special. As I get older I sense more and more strongly all the time that life moves on, opportunities pass - for good. Just to have opportunity is such a gift. Wasting half chances is just not on.

Dave Macleod regarding his recent ascent of Longhope Direct (5.14a)



I follow Dave's blog fairly religiously. He usually has some words of wisdom but this quote in particular really hit home. I've been on the road again, slowly getting back into the rhythm of climbing and fully embracing the 'two on, one off' lifestyle. I've been climbing, in a committed sense, for over a decade and it always amazes me how I still learn a valuable lesson every now and then at the crag.

I worked out the moves on my next project here at Ten Sleep, Wyoming. I knew it would be a hard route for me so I rehearsed it, over and over, dialing in the key sections. Late in the day, I set off with the cliché of 'no expectations' and found myself clipping the last bolt and staring at the chains. I attempted to draw on past lessons learned and squelch the tiny nagging thought that was tickling my mind somewhere around the brainstem. "This would be a breakthrough for you. To do a hard route so fast. A once in a lifetime opportunity." I breathed deep, focused, and ignored the fatigue and blood that had seeped from my cuticles onto my fingertips making them slippery in the pockets. I set my feet deliberately for the last hard move, stared at the split-finger, Spock-pocket above and gave it everything I had. My fingers sunk not-so-perfectly into the hold and the next thing I knew I was hitting the end of the rope and screaming the F-word.

The opportunity had passed, and it didn't pass slowly. It passed in a millisecond. I lowered to the ground and just like Dave, and thousands of others before me, my mind raced with 'whys.' "Did I eat too much or too little? Should I have stayed at the rest another minute? I should have tied in with the 9.2 instead of this fatty 9.8! Did my confidence wane? Did I forget to breathe? I should have trained harder!" And on and on.

After a few hours I made peace with myself. That opportunity had passed. It was gone forever. But the opportunity to learn something was still there. I overanalyzed the millisecond when things went wrong and eventually came to the conclusion that I gave it my best. Sometimes that's all you can do.

I had a dream that night. It's kind of a recurring dream. I was doing a one-arm pull-up. I have this dream a lot and although I've never been able to do one in real life, I've cranked off hundreds in my dreams. This time I set a new record. I banged out over 30 and a crowd started to gather. My hand was latched to the bar in a split-finger Spock position. I think Dani Andrada was there with his shirt off. Hey, don't judge my dreams, OK. Sometimes it takes drastic measures to master a move, and why not do it in your sleep? I will not fall there again.

Dave's comment, and my experience, got me thinking about opportunity and decision. Most of our lives, we have plenty of time to make decisions and every day we are faced with opportunities. You could go to the gym. You could eat an apple instead of a Snickers. You could not pick up that second, or twelfth, beer. You could put away a little extra cash for your next road trip or study the guidebook and plan your next challenge. All those little choices seem frivolous and irrelevant but ultimately, they determine what will happen in that millisecond of opportunity when you don't have time to stop and think. And for us climbers, what happens in those millisecond opportunities defines who we are. It defines our success or failure and it determines if we achieve our goals or not. You can't change what happens in that millisecond opportunity and you can't change the decisions that led up to that outcome. You can set a goal now and you can decide how to approach your decisions in the future. And if you're going to do it, do it now. You never know when that opportunity will arrive.

             

Ten Sleezy

When we left off before, Max was under the knife.  His driveshaft finally got replaced and we jumped in the rig and drove straight for Ten Sleep.  We were a few days late to arrive which wouldn't have been a big deal but we were scheduled to meet my good buddy Devlin and his new family, Ana, and Chanti.  Devlin and I have been good climbing buds for many years and I was very excited to see them.  So we hustled up to the crag, met the Junker family, and got a bit of climbing in.  It was late in the day when we arrived but it stays light until 10:00 so we were good.   

    Ana, Chanti, and Devlin Junker

My first impression of Ten Sleep was this it is a lot like Smith Rock, Oregon.  Despite it being limestone, it's more like Smith Rock tuff than any other limestone I've encountered.  It turns out that the Slavery wall, our first crag, is more Smith-like then the other crags.  The first thing I saw when hiking up was Gold Member.  It is the super obvious gold streak that begs to be climbed. 

Gold Member



I damn near sent it second go, but had to come back for it.  An excellent route.  Colley picked off a 12 dogface to work on but once we saw some of the other crags we haven't been back to slavery.  Superratic and French Cattle Ranch are phenomenal.  Blue, white, and gold limestone as good as anything in Ceuse. 

Superratic

I wish I had one of my old photos to post along side this one.  I've got many pictures of Devlin's old late 70's, bright orange VW bus parked next to my 1986 bronze VW.  We've been parked like this all over the country.  Our old rigs were named Tracy and Troy.  The new rigs: Mad Max and the Tiger.

    Chanti. 



Of course, lots has happened since we've been here but I'd like to take the opportunity to catch up on the video blog.  Click the image below for Part 1 of The Mt. Crushmore Chronicles. 



The Mt. Crush-more Chronicles

Call it what you want: chance, fate, God's plan. It's all the same and nothing illustrates it more than loading up your belongings, aiming west, and leaving the comfort zone of routine behind. Which is an odd way to phrase it because nothing makes me more comfortable than the lifestyle of 'two on, one off'. 'Two' being climbing days, of course, and 'one' being a day of rest. But all that gets thrown out the window during travel and I've grown to expect it and learned to roll with it. It's part of the game and a part I thoroughly enjoy. Some would grit their teeth and curse at the traffic jam or mechanic that seems to be keeping them from staying on 'schedule.' But it's all part of the game. It's a lot more fun and a lot better for your blood pressure to submit to chance, fate, God.

Leaving West Virginia via the Silver Bridge, site of the 1967 bridge collapse that killed 46 people.  This event was prophesied by the legendary Mothman.  We looked for Richard Gere before crossing then continued.

You've gathered by now that I'm alluding to our misfortunes , or fortunes, depending on how you view things. The 'plan' was to head straight for Wyoming and set up shop there for a month or so but how much fun would it be if that all went as planned? To be honest, I've never been so excited to get back out on the road. The oppressive heat of Fayetteville was killing me and I hadn't been climbing due to it. I just laid around lazily waiting for someone else to climb something so I could write about it online. Lame. But what I was lacking in level of fitness, I made up for with PSYCH!

The drive was fairly uneventful and smooth. 24 hours of driving over 2 days and some change had us into South Dakota and seeing signs for the Badlands. Elissa and I had never seen the Badlands and thought it would be wise to check it out in case we never made it back this way. The small squeek from under the van had grown to a screech and by the time we pulled into Badlands it was starting to growl in a demand for attention. The Badlands were cool but the National Park Service is a bunch of racist commies and don't let little dogs in out of the car so we just drove on through with a few short hikes.

Badlands

Then it was on to Mt. Rushmore and the Black Hills of South Dakota. We checked out Rushmore which was cool and even climbed 2 pitches behind their heads. Well, Elissa did. One pitch of slabby, insecure knob climbing was enough for me. The next day we spent a full day at Spearfish Canyon which is definitely one of America's underappreciated crags. Amazing limestone as good as any I've seen and not a soul around. We got a bunch of pitches in there at two crags under perfect blue skies and perfect temps.

Is this young hippie scum scratching the bugs in his dreadlocks or pondering what he is doing here?  Our founding fathers would be ashamed of our youth.  Note Lincoln's scowl and Jefferson's general snobbery.

Then it was back to the van. The next morning we got a diagnosis from the shop and, as I expected, the same problem I'd had before had returned. Busted carrier bearing. So we ordered the part and headed out for another climbing area. I think what's cool about all this is that none of this was planned. We didn't intend to stop at Spearfish or Mt. Rushmore and we didn't plan to check out the next crag we went to either. Sometimes you have to view these mishaps as blessings in disguise.

Eat a baguette, Frenchie! American limestone is sick.  This is the Indian Wars wall in Spearfish Canyon.

Victoria Canyon, VC as it's known, is probably my favorite sport climbing anywhere. It really is that cool. We drove 4 miles of dirt road across the open grasslands of South Dakota and parked at the edge of a meadow. A short hike through a pine forest took us to the rim of the gorge where we could peer down at the narrow canyon below. I was so excited about what I saw I could barely sleep that night. The next day we were up with the sun at 6:00 and even after a very leisurely morning were hiking in by 8:00. There is no trail through the canyon. It is so narrow that it's easiest to walk down the stream bed which was flowing with crystal clear water. The bottom of the creek is covered in multicolored water-polished rocks. A waterfall occasionally disrupts the hike through the stream and is bypassed by hiking through a lush landscape of fern, moss, wild iris and lady slipper. The rock was equally beautiful. Bullet hard, choss-free limestone that has amazing pockets interspersed with the blocky features found at Rifle. We got a ton of climbing in that day and the absolute joy of climbing got me up two 5.13a's despite my weakened physical state.

Victoria Canyon is gorgeous.  I would never joke about something this serious.

The next morning we got word from the shop that the part was in and we'd be on our way to Wyoming by noon. While waiting in the excellent lounge they offer, Bob the mechanic walked in, "I have bad news." This was the first of three times that Bob would say this but he managed to say it the same way with genuine concern for us each time. Bob is a good mechanic and the folks here at Eddie's Freightliner repair shop are the best of the best. They have gone above and beyond to make us comfortable while we wait even offering us a courtesy vehicle to run around town. Like the bumper sticker says, "I'd rather be climbing," but this isn't too bad.

Max keeps it real despite his busted driveshaft.

I won't bore you with the details of Max's surgical procedure but it has been long and arduous and he requires a transplant. A donor if you will. With no donor available Max needed a new part manufactured at the local steel mill. He will ride again soon and breathe deeply of the steady western-air breeze over his radiator. We've been here two days now and all is well.

Our current location.  Bay 8 and 9 are lower class.  High rollin' at the Oil and Lube bay.

My goal this year is to create a more interactive video blog for my devoted followers (aka. my mom). My limited skill has slowed this process but hopefully it will pick up soon. Due to our chance week-long stay in Rapid City, home of Mt. Rushmore, as well as our desire to crush rigs out here, I have dubbed this vlog " the Mt. Crush-more Chronicles" So far I've only gotten the opening title sequence done but I'm so smitten with the following image that I just have to share it prematurely. Click on the image for the video link.



The Williams Family.  Lifelong residents of Mt. Crush-more. 

Enough about me, let's talk about someone scrawnier.

If you follow sport climbing you probably know what this is.  It's Adam Ondra's top 10 hardest routes (according to 8a.nu) for the last year.  What is even more remarkable is that every ascent on here has occurred in the past 2 months and 1 week.  When I clicked on this, it finally began to settle in what has happened in climbing this year and it is simply incomprehensible. 

At the end of 2010, 5.14c had been onsighted once by Patxi Usobiaga.  5.15b was a difficulty of climbing reserved for less than a handful of people.  In just a little over two months Adam amassed a ticklist that has completely shattered what we believed was possible.  To put it clearly, 5.14c onsight and 5.15b redpoint were the absolute pinnacles of sport climbing achievement at the end of 2010.  In two months he achieved ten of those feats.  In two months!  That is more than one a week.  I don't know if you've ever been on a climbing trip but I have and generally it takes a few weeks to accomplish something difficult for you.  Sometimes years.  Which means....yup, this shit is easy for him.  5.14c onsight and 5.15b redpoint are easy.   

What has this done for climbing media?  Well, it's ruined it.  Let me explain how.  My job is to post climbing news that people are interested in such as: 

Joe Meathead redpoints new 5.14b at Choss Rocks!!!! 

Guess what....nobody cares.  He didn't onsight it and if he had it would still pale in comparison to what Adam has done recently. 

How about this headline: Magnus Meatball and Sausage Digiulian climb 5.14c at the Red!!!!  

Ehhh, who cares.  Adam would have onsighted it and then sent the Sharma Project at Drive-by in 4 tries.  

Ok, now I know what you're thinking.  I can still impress you by posting news of Adam Ondra doing something amazing.  What's you're gut reaction when you hear this slammin' headline:

Adam Ondra Redpoints World's First 5.15d in 10 tries!!!!!!!!! 

Be honest because I know what you are thinking....  "Man, when is he gonna send 5.16?  This is getting boring.  I wonder what people are talking about on Mountain Project?"  At which point you probably go back to defending the merits of belaying with an ATC and removing fixed draws (aka. booty) from sport routes. 

And to top it all off, climbing's messiah didn't swoop in on a winged horse with flowing golden hair and buddha-like insight into the most fascinating sport in the world.  He resembles Harry Potter and throws temper tantrums the likes of which have not been seen since Jim Karn fell off a 5.10 in Smith Rocks circa 1990!  Actually, the wobblers are the most fascinating thing about Ondra and the one thing I look forward to seeing more of in the world of climbing.  I have little more to say except; Thanks a lot Adam. Thanks for ruining everything and making my job impossible.       

Photo by Beat Kammerlander stolen from the internet