Gettin' Dat Chedda Before Desert

Exactly one week ago on a Thursday, I was sitting in a dimly lit mezzanine, gazing upon two computer screens. One hand was on a mouse, the other was holding my coffee. I took a sip, put the thermos down, and placed both hands on my keyboard. I began authoring my out-of-office reply message.

"I will be away from the office starting Friday, March 20th, and will be returning to work on Monday, April 6th. For immediate assistance, please contact..." 

My manager granted me permission to take LWOP (pronounced el-wop in the biz), better known as Leave Without Pay. That afternoon, Victor's first big road trip began.

                                                                                

Day 1 began with driving all the way from Washington to City of Rocks in Idaho. Without much effort, I convinced a few friends in Salt Lake to meet me there for a weekend of climbing and other backwoods debauchery. After 15 hours of time on the road, I pulled into site number 46, located right next to Wart Rock.

The City of Rocks National Reserve (or just "The City" in climbing world), is an over-sized playground located in the middle of nowhere (you have to drive on dirt roads for an hour from almost any direction to get there) with what appears to be an infinite number of massive boulders and rock outcroppings to get vertical on. So that's what we did for two days.

Friday night, I arrived just in time to catch a couple hours of fire side conversation and beer drinking. The top of Wart Rock provided a pretty sweet place to retreat from the bright embers and catch a deep glimpse of what the night sky had to offer. Hours away from any source of light pollution, the stars definitely owned the night like the fourth of July (thanks Katy Perry).

A view from the top of Bath Rock where we did most of our climbing on Saturday. You can see the van parked in campsite #46 next to Wart Rock in the bottom left corner.

The next day began with a pretty dank breakfast sandwich with chicken sausage (infused with asiago cheese) and melted cheddahhhh on top; a pretty new addition to my arsenal of camping meals. The day was filled with lengthy trad leads, demanding sport leads and ended with Jon Coppi effortlessly leading a 10.a crack that I mostly struggled to get up clean.

After another night of typical camping fun (part of which involved leaving the party lights in the van going for a couple hours...), Sunday was another day for pushing the limits on some crack climbs. I don't get into too many climbs that involve off-width arm baring or finger tip locking so my abilities were definitely tested. After two full days of pushing my limits and successfully using the van as a dirtbag living room, it was time to head out.

No drive back to Salt Lake City from The City is complete without stopping for In-N-Out to mow down on a double double animal style burger; gotta replenish the body in the most economical fashion. Hence, quality fast food is the best way.

My arrival to Utah was perfectly timed  to catch what probably will be the last snow fall of the season. Between this past Monday night and Wednesday morning, Little Cottonwood Canyon saw anywhere between 7-10 inches of total new snow. Nothing to write home about (technically this is a blog, not a letter I'm sending home, so I'm allowed to say that), but pretty fantastic for what has been a terrible ski season. So after one night in Salt Lake, it was time to head up the canyons for a few days of skiing.

I found an overnight parking spot on Monday between the entrance to a popular backcountry ski trailhead and the base of Alta, and called it Home for a few days. Dinner time was a pretty enjoyable experience that evening. I was able to cook up some fresh broccoli over a bed of quinoa and sauted chicken sausage and wash it down with a tasty red IPA all the while watching the sunlight dim over Alta. Dessert was a couple of Nutter Butters with tea and watching Game of Thrones on my tablet. Not a bad evening...

Tuesday morning came quick with an early dawn patrol with a few guys from Black Diamond. The high altitude and quick pace kicked my ass and handed it to me on a silver platter, but the the skiing that morning made my misgivings disappear into the crisp clear air. The alpine glow against the eastern slopes drew my mind away from my heavy breathing, and sent my heart rate down to a level that matched the serenity of our surroundings. 

"Utah is the shit," were the only four words that I could muster up in that moment. They probably weren't the most embellishing words anyone has ever used to describe the sunrise in Utah, but they summed it up. Its just good to know that I am still able to convey my emotions with more eloquent words when I want to. The rest of the day, I explored all the terrain Alta resort had to offer and met up with a friend from NY for the last couple hours of skiing and some beers at the Peruvian.

Wednesday morning came early again just as it had the day before. Another fresh coating of the whitest cheddar beckoned to be slashed and sprayed before the sun came out to weigh it down. This time Chris Moran was joining me from Golden, CO. After a long morning of touring, and a solid day of scoping out the best lines and sketchiest approaches in Alta and Snowbird, it was time to relax. The best way and only way I know how to properly mellow out after skiing is by poaching hot tubs with a few beers stashed in your jacket. That's not to say that's what we did, but there was live music, sunshine, and a pretty decent mountain vista to bring it all together.

So needless to say, Victor and I definitely weren't through with winter yet. But after these past couple days of snow-covered gloriousness, I think it's time we headed into the fun-filled desert.

Looking at Snowbird from the top of the tram on Tuesday afternoon before settling into relaxation. Beyond this mountain farther south that the eye can see is Moab, our next destination.

No Desert Until You've Finished Your Winter

Well that (the title) is not always true. There's usually an overlap between the end of winter and the start of making weekend retreats to the dryer side of the mountains. This year, the arid cliffs to the east are ten times more appealing than anything winter has to offer. Sunny skies, great climbing, and a van begging to be driven away from the city to an area where he can let his doors hang out were all obvious reasons to send it over Snoqualmie Pass, dip down to the Columbia River Gorge, and spend three days at Vantage.

Victor proved his "haulability" again by carting two people and a dog plus a weekend's worth of climbing and camping gear up and over the mountains, two and a half hours east of Seattle.

He provided a pretty sweet launching pad for cooking breakfast and drinking coffee each day and served as a decent wind blocker on Saturday night when the fire was getting whipped around. And on Sunday, the van became a fantastic place to retreat for lunch once the rain finally showed up.
After getting a better feel for the road and a slight taste of desert, I think Victor and I are ready to take it a little further.
Here goes something!

Road Trip Worthy (Approved)

Victor's road trip worthiness was something I was already aware of but this weekend it was finally
confirmed. With the bike on the back, skis up top, and all my climbing gear stored in the "closet", I was still able to sleep and move around very comfortably in the living room/bedroom/kitchen/foyer general area.

This past weekend was only two days long, so only two of the three activities stashed into my quiver were able to be done. Skiing ended up getting the shaft, which marked Saturday as the first day of riding trails this year. For early March in the PNW, Tiger Mountain was smooth and dry.

Parking in the summit lot before going riding for the day gave me the tiniest taste of what life on the road might be like in the future. It wasn't so much the pulling in and going mountain biking part that stuck out; it was coming back after a couple laps, opening up my front door, putting on flip flops, and having my whole inventory of beverages to choose from in the cool and shady confines under my bed. Victor was also a bit of a showcase there too. With the whole mountain biking community being a collection of van-porn enthusiasts, I had a few people coming over to admire the set up. One guy even asked if he could take a picture of the inside, and then a picture of me. Why not; maybe I'll be serving as his inspiration to throw his professional life away and live like a dirtbag too...

Very soon, the time will come to drive Victor deep off the beaten path. Then I'll know how he really handles life on the road. Two days of fun and one night of camping might not have been the most heroic of achievements in van history. But at least now I know that this guy has what it takes to cart me and all my toys around. PS:

There was even a little bit of room leftover for a medium
sized guest one night...