B² Productions | Climbing Blog

We were heading west across California; back towards the coast. It was a deceptively long drive from Valencia to our next stop over point: Pismo Beach, CA. We were about two hours or so into our journey as the sun began to sink into the ocean and we were beginning to get peckish. We decided to try our luck in a small back of restaurants and bars just off the road around the Santa Maria area. It had been a good few weeks since Colorado, and as the huge, bright plastic Red Lobster lobster loomed up on he horizon, my seafood craving set in again! We swung into the parking lot and headed inside. Sadly though, my hopes were dashed when we were informed that Red Lobster (unsurprisingly, in hindsight) don’t serve any vegetarian dishes, other than possibly seafood pasta without the seafood. Not the most appetising prospect. Thanks, Snoo! It reminded me of that episode of The Simpsons where Homer and Marge visit the ‘Frying Dutchman’ only to discover, to Marge’s seafood allergy suffering disappointment that even the bread contains fish. Undeterred, tried an Appleby’s which was just over the road. Surely a chain restaurant of that size, with menu that vast would offer at least some veggie friendly meals. As we enter we’re greeted by a seemingly friendly girl, she flashes us a pearly white, California smile and hands us a menu. Encouraged, Snoo asks if they do any vegetarian dishes. At which point the facade comes crashing down; she stares at us like we’re speaking swahili, mumbles something about maybe being able to do a salad without chicken or something, before ultimately losing interest in us all together, and speaking past us to the far more carnivorous looking couple which have just walked in behind us. None of us can really believe it. It’s the first bit of bad service we’d had in nearly two months in America, and it’s is in California of all places. Poor show Appleby’s. Furious at the rudeness of it all, we throw the menu’s back at her, and decide to get back in the car, ignoring the protests from our stomachs and push onto Pismo Beach.

It was pushing 9pm by the time we arrived and almost totally dark as we pulled into the parking lot of The Mission Inn. We were tired and hungry but above all, we were glad to have finally arrived in this small town on the coast of California. There was a chill in the air as we got out of the car, stretched and headed into the lobby. The sound of the waves breaking on the shore in the distance seemed to wash away the stresses of earlier in the day. We had arrived and what looked to be a very nice, pleasant little hotel. Little did we know quite how nice it would turn out to be. We’d been on the road for over a month by this point staying (mainly) in one faceless place after another. Best Western’s, Super 8’s, Holiday Inn’s; they’re all much of the same. Nice, but ultimately quite sterile. The only time I’d truly felt “at home” was when we’d stayed at the Hueco Rock Ranch. Until now. The Mission Inn was a hotel much like any other, but it did little things which seemed to set it apart so much from everywhere else. For example, when we checked in, we were each given a token for a free beer or glass of wine in the bar. A simple thing, but a lovely touch. We lugged our stuff up to our room which was huge, with a massive window at one end which over looked the sea. The hotels Wi-fi was fast and more importantly free (something by which we’d judged most of our prospective accommodation during the trip. I am a self confessed geek, and comfortable with it). We unpacked the bare essentials, and headed down to the bar to make the most of our free drinks. The hotel also seemed to have a Tardis style quality to it, feeling a whole lot bigger inside than it appeared on the outside. Plush, thick carpet lined every corridor with arrangements of fresh flowers decorating the little art deco alcoves along their flanks. The bar area doubled as a small, and packed, restaurant. The barmaid greeted us with a friendly smile as we handed over our tokens and received a generous glass of red wine each in large, engraved Mission Inn glasses. We chatted with the barmaid briefly about our trip and where we were from before lounging back on the big sofas just outside of the restaurant. As we sank back into the sofas we joked about the day we’d had. It was at this point we remembered that we still hadn’t eaten. There wasn’t a huge amount available in Pismo Beach (at least that we could see) and what there was would be shutting up shop pretty soon. Luckily enough, just opposite the hotel was a Japanese place which still seemed to be serving food, so we made a dash for there. This was only my second time trying Japanese food (my first being in Bishop, CA) and it was lovely. We each went for different dishes with vast amounts of Tempura and Seaweed being shared round. Perfect. We were literally the last people in the place, but we were made to feel very welcome, as the staff tidied up around us and sat around having their own dinner and end-of-the-day beers. Fed and watered, we returned to the hotel and slept soundly in a large, comfy beds. It wouldn’t be long before we’d be back on the road.

Benny & Snoo at Monterey Country Line

I opened the curtains the next morning to be greeted by a beautiful, clear blue sky. Just what we needed. Our plan was to head up Highway 1, which basically follows the coast line of California. A hugely picturesque drive in the sun, but I imagine, hugely dull and potentially dangerous in the wet. We packed up and headed down to get fuelled up on breakfast. Unsurprisingly, there was a generous spread on offer. A buffet featuring Bacon, Eggs, Sausages, Waffles, French Toast, Tea, Coffee and Cereals. We ate our fill, and then with some sadness bid farewell to The Mission Inn and headed out. A bit of research online and in guide books warned us that Gas along Highway 1 would be scarce and expensive, so we thought it wise to fill up before hitting the winding coast road. There was a gas station close by, so that would be our first port of call. We wound our way through the twisty, residential streets of Pismo Beach; all lined with large, grand houses which made you feel like you were in an episode of The OC or something before hitting the gas station. We fuelled up the car, as well as loading ourselves up with snacks and water for the trip and left the town to join the highway. We made slow, steady progress up along the highway, stopping intermittently to stretch our legs, breath in the sea air and take photos. We wound our way up into Monterey County and through Big Sur, during which time I found it impossible to get that damn song by The Thrills out of my head, no matter what we had on the stereo. We stopped at the Julia Pfeiffer Burns State Park and had a wander round, taking in the beautiful coast line. The rest of the journey continued in this relaxed stop/start fashion as carried on north long the coast. We bought lunch at a small roadside store (pretty much the only one we saw; and which bizarrely sold PG Tips tea bags which was hugely exciting!) and ventured down a small track to a beach at the bottom where we sat and ate and skimmed stone across the random pools of sea water. The highlight of the trip for me came further up the coast as we crossed the rather impressive Bixby Bridge. The 700 foot long, and 280 foot tall structure crosses, as you might expect, Bixby Creek and pretty much makes this journey possible without it taking several days. Not only was it a beautiful sight to behold, with an impressive clash of colours between the vivid green of the coastline and the deep blue of the sea, but it finally meant my internal jukebox now shuffled onto a much more agreeable song; Death Cab for Cutie’s “Bixby Canyon Bridge“. All was well.

Bixby Bridge Panorama (Click for a larger version...)

Hitting the bridge meant that the bulk of the picturesque part of our journey was over. As we skimmed round the edge of Monterey the roads became quicker, and we started making quicker progress up around Monterey Bay, into Santa Cruz and finally up towards our stop for the evening in Santa Clara. It was another beautiful evening as we arrived at our Vagabond Hotel. Checked into our room, we sat with the door open, soaking up the last of the sunshine before heading out for curry in a very plush Indian restaurant near by. The next day was hopefully going to involve some climbing! We hadn’t done any since Joshua Tree, and we were feeling rested and ready. Bring on Castle Rock!

Six Flags Los Angeles Map (Click for larger view)

The journey to Valencia was a short and pleasant one. At a mere 75 miles, it was a real blink-and-you’d-miss-it kind of a journey. We were well hardened to long drives by this point. We checked into our Best Western and chilled out for a few minutes, before heading out for dinner. Aside from the car full or random drunk/drugged up (Citation Needed) youths who took it upon themselves to hurl abuse at us as they hared past; Valencia seemed nice. We had a nice, slap up meal at a local Mexican restaurant and hit the sack.

The next day was a rest day. As would be the bulk of the next week. There would be no rest for our adrenal glands however, as Benny had something planned; A trip to local theme park Six Flags. We checked out and made the short drive to the park, paid the extortionate parking toll, parked up, paid the extortionate entry fee and had ourselves “A Six Flags day”. Apparently. It was a grey, and quite cold day, yet the steady stream of people into the adjacent water park was still pretty constant. I have why. It would have been the last place I’d want to be on a day like that. Inside the park, we consulted the handy map, and tried to plot a course round the park. First up was ‘Colossus’ a 30 year old ride, made from wood. Hmmm. If we survived this we could survive anything. Snoo’s not a huge fan of roller coasters, but she played along like a good sport and screamed herself silly. At a girl! We carried on round sampling the delights on offer. We rode ‘Goliath’, ‘Superman: The Escape’, ‘Ninja’, ‘The Riddler’s Revenge’ and ‘Goldrusher’ (a child’s ride to keep Snoo happy, and to settle her nerves. Bless her.) My personal favourite was the new ‘Terminator Salvation: The Ride’ erm, ride. It was also the only ride we had to queue for for any length of time (around 40 minutes). The queue wasn’t too bad though. Burnt out wrecks of jeeps, oil drums and general nuclear war style fallout paraphernalia were strewn around as we snaked our way round, interspersed every thirty seconds or so by a collective scream as the ride itself hurtled past. Eventually, we ended up in the “base” where we were treated to various video transmissions which usually ended up with someone about to be brutally slaughtered before their transmission cut out. How charming. The decor appeared to be in a “Robot snuff house” theme, but it all added a nice touch the experience. Eventually we had to be “evacuated” via the ride itself. I was interested to see what all the fuss and hype had been leading up too. As we got strapped in and we braced ourselves. Then the thing took off. Literally. This thing was fast. So. Unbelievably. Fast. Like nothing else I’ve ever experienced. And I’ve been in a car when Snoo’s been driving. I just about managed to prize my eyeballs out from the back of my skull in time to catch the latter half proceedings. It was so fast. I cannot stress this enough. My meagre grasp of physics had me believing that usually a mode of transport accelerates, reaches a cruising speed, continues at that speed, then comes to a stop. The designers of the Terminator ride clearly seemed to think that this was a far too convoluted chain of events, so decided to cut it down. Our course of events went something like this: Accelerate. Accelerate some more. Stop. I think blind panic might have been involved somewhere along the way, but my mental faculties weren’t quick enough to comprehend that. Like I said, it was pretty quick, y’know. After what felt like no time at all, we had stopped. We staggered off and decided to by pass the oh-so-flattering mid ride photo of us with our brains leaking out of our ears and instead went for an ice cream and a nice gentle sit down.

The last ride of the day was ‘Tatsu’, which boasted that it gives you “the sensation of flight”. This was simply achieved by laying you face down as you hurtle over the heads of those below you. However, no amount of suspending you, face down over hundreds of feet worth of drop is anywhere near as scary as watching the thing break down, and thus leaving the people on the ride previously to you stranded in their seats at forty five degrees. Which is exactly what we had the pleasure of witnessing. We get to the front, all ready for one last adrenaline hit of the day, and the thing stops working. Granted it was the train on the other (of the two) tracks, but it was enough. It took a good twenty minutes to free the people in the train stranded in the station from their seats, and you really felt sorry for them until you realised that there was a whole other train still out on the track, full of people stuck face down. The claustrophobe in me decided that it might be a good idea to do something else about now, but soon enough we were herded into a free train and strapped in. Then we sat there. Then we were unstrapped (shortly before I totally freaked out) and told to get off. Despite my insistence, Benny wouldn’t let leave, and before long we were back on things seemed to be functioning as the should. We made the long, slow creep up the start of the track to the apex of the track, which offered a wonderful view of the park and the all the little people milling about. Well, it would have done for Snoo if she had had her eyes open. And wasn’t quite so preoccupied with screaming. The screaming didn’t last long though; as we hit the high point and the real fun began, so reached a whole new level of fear, which involved a worrying amount of silence. Before we were thrown through a series of loops, twists and corkscrews before coming to a screeching halt again in the station. As we strolled down the ramp, Snoo managed to regain her composure, and ability to speak, and announced that that was probably enough for her for the day. We’d been in the park for a fair few hours and we were feeling pretty tired now so we began to make our way out. However, Snoo wasn’t done quite yet…

As we headed towards the exit, we were greeted by something we didn’t expect. A climbing wall. We stopped and watched as couple of muscle bound guys took a break from stuffing nerds into lockers or something (if ‘Saved by the Bell’ is to be believed) and stepped up to try the “Expert” route on the wall. We watched on with interest as they were harnessed up and clipped onto the auto belays, and tried to get established on the first holds. I couldn’t really see from where I was, but it didn’t take a genius to work out the equation that plastic holds + no chalk + no brushes + overtly sweaty, scared people = filthy, greasy holds. To be fair, they did pretty well. One guy got about a third of the way up before getting shut down by an obvious crux section. He tried to battle his way through but after a few more attempts was forced to admit defeat. I looked over to Snoo and I could see a familiar flicker in her eyes. When climbing is involved, Snoo doesn’t so much have a competitive streak as a whole competitive nudist colony, storming centre court during a day out at Wimbledon. She was itching to get on the wall. Benny and I were too, but since we were both sporting Sanuck shoes (comfortable, but no good for climbing) it wasn’t really possible. Snoo was at least wearing shoes which fitted her feet and could be fastened, and after some gentle encouragement, she stepped up. Benny and I took up cheerleading duties from the sidelines as she headed straight to the Expert route and got tied in. You know the film “The Colour of Money” where Tom Cruise plays a Pool Shark; imagine that, but on a climbing wall. And the instead of Tom Cruise you have a 5′6″ girl with windswept hair and an ill fitting harness. That is what we were seeing. Hollywood would eat it up I reckon. She managed to get further than the previous guy, but got stumped about half way up by a huge reach. When she got back down to the ground, the people running the wall let her have another attempt on the “Hard” route (the one down from “Expert”) for free. We whooped it up in true Jerry Springer style and encouraged her to get back on, which she did. This route definitely looked hard from the ground, and tricky read, but Snoo sailed up the first 90% of it. There was a tricky move right at the top to the last hold. On the first attempt Snoo came up a little short, but managed to save the move, retreating to a large bulging feature where she could rest out. Benny and I were going crazy down on the ground shouting up encouragement and even the four or five staff members working on the wall were joining in cheering her on. After a minute or so’s worth of rest, she attacked the move again, and with a bit of a pop managed to latch the last move and letting out a huge whoop of victory! She lowered off to a rapturous round of applause from the ground, untied, thanked the people working there and cool as a cucumber, walked out politely shunning her prize for reaching the top. How cool.

It was about time to go. It was surprisingly tiring walking around and being scared half to death all day, and we had a fairly long drive ahead to our next destination. We piled into the car and hit the road again, headed for Pismo Beach, and the nicest hotel ever…

We were greeted by another cloudless, California morning when we awoke from a good nights sleep in our modest Super 8 room. It was a fleeting stop over in J-Tree (Benny and I were getting good at these one night stands); we got dressed, packed up our stuff, hauled it into the back of the car and went to grab some breakfast. It was during said breakfast that we made a startling discovery. We’d been eating a lot of Raisin Bran (when available) as we had assumed that it was the healthiest breakfast cereal choice on offer; similar to Fruit & Fibre in the UK. It wasn’t until closer inspection that each humble raisin was covered in sugar, for reasons totally unknown to us. I dread to think how much additional sugar we’d unwittingly ingested on our trip! No wonder I felt so heavy on the rock (that’s my excuse and I’m sticking too it). Still, mountains of sugar or not; the Raisin Bran was still infinitely preferable to the ironically named “Fruit Loops”. They appeared to be made from small circles of raw plutonium, and stuffed into a box. From the looks of them, the closest they’d ever come to fruit was being situated five feet from bowl of apples and sorry looking bananas on the adjacent table.

Snoo on 'Gripper's Traverse' (V0+)

Anyway, with the breakfast rantings over with, it was time to head back into the park for few hours bouldering before it was time to push on again. Benny had some things in mind for the day: Namely repeating and attempting problems from his previous visit. With no real agenda, Snoo and I were happy to go along with this. The first stop was ‘Grippers Traverse’ (V0+). Intended to be a warm up, it ended up being trickier for Snoo and I than hoped. Starting with a sit start on the left hand side, the traverse follows an obvious, thin crack right for around fifteen feet. Snoo, who loves a good traverse, was keen to give it a go. It must get a fair amount of traffic as the thing felt awfully greasy and I came a cropped a couple of times as the tenuous crimps totally gave out beneath my fingers. Benny made a quick repeat, and once I had the sequence sorted, followed close behind. Snoo kept getting stuck on a couple of big, awkward moves but was making good progress. However, after some good attempts, she was getting pretty tired so we got back into the car and headed to another problem Benny had tried the previous year.

Benny on 'Velvetta' (V2)

Another short drive lead us to ‘Velvetta’ (V2). A vetical, real, sharp crimp-fest of a problem. Starting from a high start from side pulls, you make a couple of deadpoint moves on more small crimps before a big slap for the lip. The sun was baring down now. It was approaching midday and it was hot. We weren’t to be deterred though. As Snoo made herself comfortable and watched us from the ever decreasing shade, we started to piece together the beta and made a few tentative attempts. After a couple of goes, I’d managed to link up to the last move, but was struggling to see how make the reach to the lip. After some close examination, and cleaning of holds, I found a wide left foot which looked like it could work. I managed to get into the position again, and found the foot hold. I was pretty stable now, with my left up on a high gastone crimp, my right on a low side pull and my feet planted, I made a near full span bump with my left hand and got my finger tips over the lip. Unfortunately, I hit totally the wrong place and ended up slipping off. I was convinced it would work though, and on the next attempt, I stuck the move and made the easy top out! The move felt big for me, so I wasn’t sure if Benny was going to be able to make it. Looking back now, it was pretty foolish to think like that. Benny is nothing if not a dynamic climber and after a few attempts and some liberally applied tape to his now raw finger tips, he managed to stick the move! Two for two on ‘Velvetta’, and with the razor sharp rock beginning to take its toll on our fingers; not a moment too soon.

It was getting near time to leave, but before we could go, Snoo was determined to give ‘Grippers Traverse’ another try. On the way out of the park, we swung back into the parking lot right by the problem, and Snoo got prepared to try it again. The problem was more in the shade now, and it felt noticeably cooler, and the friction was definitely better. Snoo had a few isolated attempts on the crux moves that were stumping her previously and made them with ease. It was now or never, so she got back and went of the send! She came really close on the first attempt, but again, came unstuck on the awkward, wide crux move. The second time however, she sailed through it, and with gritted teeth edged her way along the final, overhanging, crimpy seam to the end of the problem! Success! We’d all done problems we were happy with, so we decided to leave things on a high. We packed up our stuff, loaded up the car and headed out of the park, and out of J-Tree again. Before long we were back on the I-10 heading west towards LA. It was only a short drive (especially by our recent standards) to our next stop over: Valencia, CA…

Right, sorry about that. Where was I?…

We snaked our way down through the desert back roads back into California. The stresses and strains of Nevada now far behind us we rolled into the small and understated town of Joshua Tree. Benny had been here by himself the previous year, and his tails of crazy arrangements of razor sharp rock were intriguing. We made it into town, and stopped for a while at a cafe on the main strip to grab a drink. Refreshed and relaxed, we nipped into the small climbing store next door which hired out J-Tree guide books. Armed with our temporary guide, the next mission was to find some where to stay. The ever organised Snoo was by now none too impressed by our frankly slap dash approach to accommodation booking since she’d left the first time, and to be fair, we weren’t really doing much to convince her that our current technique was really working. There are a few hotels available in J-Tree. First off, we tried the rather nice looking Best Western. Unfortunately, it was almost at full capacity, and the rooms that were left were out of our price range. None of these little inconveniences would stop us using their Wi-Fi from the car park in order to find somewhere else though, oh no. Our next stop at the Super 8 just up the road proved more successful, and the friendly Indian family running it checked us in without any worries and a smile. We dropped our stuff off, placed the three bottles of Budweiser which Benny and I had been hauling around since Hueco and which had since become our travelling companions, into the fridge and relaxed for a few minutes. It was getting quite late in the day, but we decided to get up into the park before it got dark.

Joshua Tree Landscape

We bundled ourselves back into the car and made the short but twisty drive up to the entrance of the park, bought our pass and continued in to try and find some easy problems on which to see out the day. Joshua Tree National Park is bizarre landscape, but in a really good way. It appears to be a mix of, as you might expect, Joshua Trees and random stacks of boulders strewn around. These odd formations make for a very interesting drive as we meandered slowly up through the park to our a parking lot which held, what we thought, would be an easy slabby warm up. It had been a scorcher of a day as we drove in, but as the sun began to drop and the wind picked up it got pretty damn chilly. We found ‘Intersection Boulder’ which was pretty much in the parking lot, and I have to say we were stumped. The thing was (or at least looked) blank. And tall. Benny and Snoo made a few tentative attempts at the first three or four feet of the problem, without much success while I shot some photos and tried to get warm. I decided to step up and have a crack. Since badly spraining my ankle in Fontainebleau in 2008, my slab climbing hasn’t been the strongest, but I had a go anyway. The thing was blank! It was a real mental battle to trust your feet on these nothing footholds with very little to pull on with your hands. I made some decent progress, and managed to get a little over half way up the slab which felt a whole lot taller when you were on it than when you were looking at it from the ground. My confidence was starting to improve until I hit a move which seemed to involve a very high foot rock over, again with poor handholds. I tried a few times to try and make myself trust my feet but it just wasn’t happening – after a while, the toe of my high left foot popped and I had an awkward fall, having to tap the rock to try and get out over the bulge at the base. After a couple more attempts ended the same way, we decided to move on to something else. Not far away was a nice, vertical crimp fest called ‘Dynamo Hum’ (V1). This was a nice break from the previous problem in so much that it actually had holds! Quite biggish moves between, sharp but positive crimps and flakes. I managed to nail it after a couple of attmepts and only the smallest of blood injuries on my leg. However, the descent turned out to be even scarier than than the ascent. Shuffling and sliding down the steep, slabby backside of the problem followed by an awkward jump onto the crash pad was one that I didn’t want to repeat too soon!

Benny on 'Dynamo Hum' (V1)

Snoo and Benny worked the problem for a while; Benny employing an incredibly elaborate and scary array of toe hooks and and the like, and managing to despatch it as the sun sank below the piles of boulders that littered the park and the long shadows were cast across the rocks. Before long, it was getting too dark to really try the problem safely. We wandered around to see if there was anything worth returning to the following day, before scrambling to the top of a small stack of boulders to bask in the incredible sunset on offer. As the sky went from orange to blue to black, we headed back to the car, and wound our way down through the park and back into the small main drag of Joshua Tree itself. Pizza and a few beers was in order before a well earned nights sleep, happy in the knowledge that we’d broken out of Vegas and were back on course…

We awoke in the our vast room in the tower of the Luxor. It was Sunday morning, but the thick black out curtains killed any cut out any light attempting to enter the room. We got dressed and ventured downstairs. Getting to the casino floor was a stark reminder of where we were. We wandered across the gaming floor taking guesses at the whether the people engrossed in their games of Roulette, Black Jack or at the Slots had actually been to bed at all or whether they’d just been caught up in the weird, timeless vortex that is a Las Vegas casino. We wanted some breakfast so headed to the buffet at the end of the Casino floor. We were greeted by a long queue which did nothing for the my mood (I’m not the best company when I’m hungry). The queue was bad enough, but when we saw the extortionate price of the buffet it soured my mood even further. $18 for a Champagne brunch – The only option available on a Sunday. I don’t like Champagne, and neither does Benny especially. I certainly wasn’t willing to pay over the odds for a grossly over rated glass of fizzy white! Sadly, the other Casinos only offered a similar “choice” so we had to settle for Coffee and a muffin in Starbucks. It wasn’t ideal, but at least it was cheap.

We’d been in Vegas for a few hours and it was already starting to grate. The novelty wore off during my first visit there, and the years absence hadn’t really added anything to it’s charm. It is a strangely fascinating place. For a while. The size, noise and extravagance of the strip is incredible, even by American standards. However, unless you’re a gambler, a big drinker or are really pretty well off (none of which apply to me) it does start to get to you pretty quickly. We’d been in some of the most naturally beautiful places in the world and now this horribly tacky sea of lights and excess seemed to undermine it all some how. It was ok though. We were here to pick up Snoo who was flying in to join us again, and I was excited enough by this to live with Vegas for a couple of days.

A shot of The Strip at night.

If you get off the strip, Vegas is actually quite nice. It’s amazing how driving just a couple of blocks can make you feel like you’re in a totally different place. This is what we did. We mooched around the shops, had some food and some drinks and generally tried to chill as much as possible in the sweltering Nevada heat. Some how, we made it through the day. Not only that, we had quite a laugh as well. We both felt so out of place and edgy that the best thing to do was make a joke of the whole situation. Pretty soon it was time to head out to the airport to pick up Snoo. We sadly parted ways with the beloved Focus and picked up a bigger ride for the next week or so. The car which would be known as ‘The Hearse’ due to it’s size and rather ugly shape. It was actually more comfortable than the Pathfinder we had at the start so that was something.

We arrived at the terminal and waited for Snoo, amusing ourselves with a right wing, religious pamphlet we found on one of the seats. Again, our slightly dark, sarcastic senses of humour were helping us make the best of things. As the plane arrived, we moved the gates and played on the slot machines which were liberally sprinkled around the place. I even managed to keep up my Vegas winning streak – over my time I’ve been there, I am in credit! Ha! Take that ‘The House’! Snoo soon arrived, we collected bags and headed out to the car to wrestle our way back through the Vegas traffic back to the hotel. We dropped Snoo’s stuff off and decided to head out and get some food (off strip naturally). It was decided that we’d head to a Pizza Hut we’d been to before. We thought it would be an easy and relaxing experience. We should have known that such a thing in Vegas does not exist. We made slow progress down the strip (Ok, now seems like a good time to set the record straight with a confession. The reason we made slow progress was totally my fault. It was our last night here, and I really wanted to get some footage driving down the strip – I had know idea how long it would take and thus how tight we’d end up cutting things at this point. To Benny and especially Snoo: I am truly sorry!) We finally got away from the bright lights on tailbacks and arrived at our destination. Only to find it closed. In our haze of Vegas rage this did not go down well. Our bad vibes and aborted plans were starting to take their toll on poor, jetlagged Snoo. We decided it was time to admit defeat and head back to the hotel. We grabbed what little food we could find on the casino floor of the Luxor before hitting the sack. We had planned in another day in Vegas as we thought she’d be too tired to want to drive anywhere. I think the thought of having to spend another day with these two miserable bastards was a more tiring thought than a few hours on the road. She had the casting vote and pleased the whole group by deciding to push on early for Joshua Tree.

After a good nights sleep (for all it’s wrongs, Vegas do know how to do comfort) we hit the road, foregoing breakfast in favour of grabbing something en route. As we made our way along the I-15 it felt like a weight was being lifted from our shouders, and our moods lifted with it. We were back on track!

The next day we were straight online in search of info about the gate! After a few minutes Benny produced the goods! There was some info about the gate, but more importantly that it was only there to stop car access to the car park and the pump. It seems that the pump had been the victim of some vandalism, so the gate had been put in place as a deterrent. Crucially though, the rocks were still accessible to climbers – you just had to leave your car at the gate and hike in. Sweet! Excited by the prospect of seeing New Joe’s, we headed downstairs to get fuelled up. Unfortunately, we were greeted by the most meagre selection of breakfast thus far on the trip. Granted we were a bit late, but even so – it didn’t look like you’d have had a massive selection of stuff had you been the first in line. We settled for a quick cup of tea each (which was one welcome addition after endless coffee – we are English after all), got checked out and headed down to Walmart to get some supplies for breakfast, and the rest of the day. Food, water and a box of the most hideous sweets (the multi coloured atrocities called ‘Dots’) known to man in hand, it was back out to the valley with us!

Benny on 'Warm Me Up Scotty' (V1)

The sun was out with a vengeance. As we arrived back at the gate we were greeted by a cloudless blue sky, and crisp temperatures (helped by the high altitude) – basically perfect climbing temps. We loaded ourselves up and headed off up the track towards the now defunct car park. The high altitude may have been helping the temps, but it certainly wasn’t doing much for our lungs. I’m ashamed to admit it, but we did have to stop half way along and catch our breath! The walk in wasn’t actually as far as we’d thought and soon we were stood below the Ben Moon test piece ‘Black Lung’ (V13). Before any one gets too excited, we had no intention of trying that – but like any famous problem it’s impressive to stand and look at and get a sense of just how hard it actually is. We’d chosen Area 51 as it had a good mix of problems. We decided to start at the bottom and work up. There was one boulder just next to Black Lung which had four problems on, which helpfully went from V1 – V4. Perfect. First up was ‘Warm Me Up Scotty (V1), which started under a small roof on good holds. There was a couple of moves back to the lip before pulling over on to a fairly high, but easy slab. A great little warm up. The V2 was called ‘Getting Warmer Traverse’ and started from the same sit start as ‘Warm Me Up Scotty’, but instead of going straight back to the lip, you went left along the lip of the roof to the left hand side arete and then up. There were a few tricky moves as you went across the lip (especially for the taller gentleman), but again the slab over the top had plenty of good holds. One thing we did notice at New Joe’s was that the friction was incredible! Even on this fairly warm sunny day our feet were just sticking to anything. It took a little while to get our heads into it, but once we realised we could happily use the tiniest little smears we really started to get into it. The rock at New Joe’s also reminded me a lot of Fontainebleau – with the welcome addition of a lot more crimpy holds. I really liked it here! After a couple of attempts each, we both sent ‘Getting Warmer Traverse’ and moved onto the last problem on the face – A nice V3 arete problem called ‘Get Shorty’. It followed a similar pattern to the V1 (a couple of moves to a lip and a mantle up onto a slab). According to the guide book it’s “Easier if you have a beard” – which was lucky for the pair of us. Benny managed to flash the problem, but I struggled with the high tension sit start, which involved cramming yourself into a rather awkward space on bad feet. It was a cool problem though, and I did manage it after about three or four attempts. We were both enjoying working our way up through the grades, so we decided to have a look at he V4 around the back of where we’d just been. ‘Sun In My Eye’ is a short (basically one move) intense, and very fun problem. From a sit start you pull up on a good rail, place one foot in a really bad foot hold and make a long throw to a good pocket just over the lip. From there it’s a relatively simple top out. It sounds easy enough, but it took both Benny and me a good while to get into the right body position to to actually get and leverage to get up to the lip. It was fun though, and we both settled in to work the problem for a while. While we were on the problem, for the first time in the two days we’d bee at Joe’s we actually had some company! Another couple of climbers came hiking up the path looking for Area 51. They turned out to be called John and Lucy, and they originally hailed from New York. John was on a mammoth road trip from the East Coast heading west – a trip which made ours look quite timid in comparison. Lucy had recently moved to Salt Lake City for uni, and John had stopped by to see her as part of the trip. We chatted for a while, and then they headed round the back of the boulder to start on the same problems we had. Benny and I continued to work ‘SIME’ and although I came close a couple of times, I still couldn’t quite make the move. After a while, John came back round to see what we were up to. It was becoming increasingly apparent that he was a pretty handy climber – A theory that was shortly proven when, after asking if he could jump on, systematically flashed the problem with ease. He used some really effective beta, where by he had his legs spread really far apart and basically straddled the rock. His left foot was in the bad foot hold, and his right foot was flagged right out. This seemed to give him just enough spring to get up to the lip. It seemed like a plan, and once he was done, I got back on and gave it a go. My first attempt with the new beta was very close – I had my fingers in the hold but couldn’t quite hold it. I sat on the pad and psyched myself up. The second time I latched the pocket with ease! I managed to hold the swing, but then messed up my foot work for the top out and was forced to bail out! The third time was the charm though – I stuck the hold again and topped out with ease, up over the lip and into the sunshine! The day was going well. Benny wasn’t far behind, and he managed to nail the problem to after a few more attempts! This working-up-through-the-grades technique seemed to be paying off, so we decided to try and find  V5 to work on and hopefully continue our successful streak. Benny had a quick look through the guide book and found an interesting looking V4/V5 called ‘Self Service’. It was a different boulder, and a bit of a hike through the under growth. We bis our goodbyes to John and Lucy and headed through the trees to the new boulder.

Benny on 'Sun In My Eye' (V4)

The guide book was a little unclear as to how ‘Self Service’ actually worked. It was pretty short again, and with good holds. However, the ambiguous description of the problem left it a little up in the air as to whether the good side pulls out to the left of the problem were actually in. There was a V2 which ran up that part of the face, and we just assumed that they were part of that. So, we set to work trying to figure it out. From what we could see, you started on a good jug, and utilising a pretty intense drop knee move, you got established on a bad undercling (or in my case a really, wide, and actually quite painful pinch which was pretty much at the extent of my grip). You matched your left hand onto a bad sloper just next to the underclingy-pinch-type-thing, bumped you right foot up and made a crazy throw over to a good (if you came at it from the right way) crimpy rail. Unfortunately, we were coming at it from the wrong way and the decent part of the rail was just out of reach. We both managed to link up to this point (with a fair amount of work), and we were pretty convinced it was the way to go. We did spend a bit of time weighing up the possibility  that the decent side pulls were part of the problem, but we came to conclusion that using them would have made the problem easier than V5. In hindsight, we probably should have put our theory to the test, but instead we we just carried on working our way (which ironically felt harder than V5). Unfortunately, we didn’t really get any further than this point, despite many huge throws, loud screams and heavy deck outs on to the pad.

Ben on 'Self Service' (V4/5)

We carried on working the moves until both fatigue and time got the better of us. It was getting to around 4pm by this point and we were booked into a hotel at the stop over place of Cedar City en route to Las Vegas, which we quite fancied getting to before it was dark. We conceded defeat, packed up the gear and hiked back out to the car. Benny was determined to try and put the mystery of the side up holds to bed though, and vowed to do some research when we next had an internet connection.

As we got back to the car, and started packing up the gear, a truck pulled up alongside us by the metal gate and a rather stern looking man jumped out. We started looking sheepish like school boys who have been caught doing something wrong, and they know it. We muttered a timid hello to the guy, and in an instant the gruff exterior melted away to one of the biggest, most welcoming smiles I’ve ever encountered. The smile was accompanied by one of the thickest Arkanas accents I’ve ever encounted – It was amazing. He said hello back and asked us how our day’s climbing had gone (he worked for the company that maintains the pumps up in the car park and obviously regularly came across climbers in this spot). We asked about the gate an whether it was a new addition. It turns out that it had been put there in the last few years as there had been a lot of vandalism to the pump, so the gate had been put in as a deterrent. That was one mystery solved at least, and to anyone in the same situation we had been a few days before and have been frantically searching Google for an answer, I hope this post has helped. You can thank me later. We thanked the guy for clearing things up for us and he headed up the track to the car park . We finished packing up the car and hit the road, aiming for Cedar City 150 miles or so south.

It was still a beautiful evening as we drove down through the valley and back onto the interstate. The beautiful sunshine was a bit misleading however. As we stopped at a Gas Station about 50 miles in, we got out of the car only to be greeted by gale force, freezing cold winds! Neither of us had sweatshirts on, and a we stood shivering as we filled up on fuel and made a vain attempt to get some of the filthy and miscellaneous dead insects off the windscreen. We still had a fair way to go, and we were both feeling a little tired from the days climb. It was time to bring out the big guns – The Arizona Raspberry Ice Tea! All fuelled up, we swapped drivers so I was behind the wheel and pushed on. I cracked the can on as we left and it wasn’t long before the caffeine was causing through my veins and I was getting my second wind. It wasn’t long before Cedar City was in range. I was feeling pretty much fully energised now, and neither really wanted to stop so we made the executive decision to push straight on to Vegas. I still don’t quite know how I managed it, but I ended up driving the full 200+ miles from the Gas station down through Utah, clipping the corner of Arizona and into Nevada. We were treated to a very spectacular sunset across the plains as we head across the desert – this for me was probably one of the best and most exciting drives of the trip. This is what I’d hoped for before we left and it was just as good as I imagined it. Before long, we pulled over the brow of the hill and the we were greeted by the hugest sprawl of lights I’ve ever seen emerging from the darkness. It had been a long drive, and we were happy to have arrived in Vegas finally and get checked into our room. That probably was the only time we were happy in Vegas. At least until we left…

The next morning was cloudy and muggy as we loaded our stuff into the car. It was time to bid farewell to Moab, and continue our journey through Utah. Destination: Joe’s Valley – Or more accurately, Price, UT. The drive was pretty short – A mere 150 or so miles. Childs play after the mammoth distances we had been covering, and it was set to take no more than a few hours. As we left Moab, back out along the Hwy 191 past Arches National Park, the grey clouds loomed over head and the heavens began to open. The drive was fairly unremarkable. It’s hard to top the magnitude and beauty of the Canyonlands – It felt like Utah had stopped trying. As we got closer to Price, we were starting to feel a little apprehensive. We’d hardly passed anywhere particularly big, or built up, and in fact what we had passed looked horribly recession ridden and depressed. The rain didn’t help. We pushed on, and soon the TomTom was informing us that “We’d reached our destination”. Really? Blimey. I’m glad we’re only here one night! Price was the biggest town we’d seen since Moab, possibly bigger than Moab, but it was nowhere near as vibrant or happy to see us. It looked and felt Price had fallen on hard times. We arrived at the Super 8 where we’d staying. They must have been doing alright for themselves as they were treating the place to a new coat of Tarmac on the car park. It was certainly doing better than the boarded up shell of what was once a Texaco opposite. We were forced to park over the road and wander across to check in. The hotel felt as ghostly as town, but the Indian family that ran the place were friendly enough, and we were fitted out with a very nice room for a very reasonable price.

We were hoping to get out and climb that afternoon, but we weren’t sure if that was going to happen. The rain was off and on, but we figured that with a forty minute drive to get to the crag, we might be able to shake it off. First, we needed food. It was time to see what Price had to offer. We stopped by the local Walmart (everywhere has a Walmart!) to pick up water and supplies for climbing, and then went looking for lunch. We found our way to the main strip. In it’s hey-day I would have thought that Price would have looked really nice. The main drag was fairly short by American standards, but there was a real feel of faded 1950’s glamour within the art deco style signs above the shops and cinema. I kind of felt sorry for the place. We found a Subway, and went in to grab some food. Benny and I chatted in the queue, and obviously aroused some attention. Tourism isn’t big in Price, especially compared to some of the places we’d been. People in San Francisco or Boulder, for example, are fairly nonplussed by our English accents, and it wouldn’t be uncommon to hear other people sporting them. But here, in deepest, darkest Utah, two guys from London are a bit of a novelty. And the girl on the till, Ingrid, brought this to our attention. “Hey, where are you guys from?”. An easy one. “Oh, we’re from Uk. London, to be precise”. “What the hell are you doing in Price?!” The tone and delivery of the question made it feel like there should have been an angle poise lamp in my face. I was a little taken a-back. She wasn’t rude, so was genuinely curious and bemused in equal measure. “Erm, we’re climbers. He here to climb out in Joe’s Valley”. “Oh, right”. The answer seemed to suffice. We chatted with Ingrid a bit longer as she informed us of how she “wants to go to London and come back with an accent”. She didn’t seem to accept that she already HAD an accent, which I considered to be far more interesting than my watered down, south east mish-mash.

We sat and ate our food and watched the rain bucket down outside. We exchanged sad, hard-done-by looks as the thunder and lighting rumbled and crackled over head. We finally came to the conclusion that Price had nothing really to offer us, so we might as well risk the forty minute drive out to the rocks. We waited for a break in the rain, and made a break for it ourselves. The clouds looked ominous for most of the way, but as got closer to Orangeville, we were starting to see patches of blue sky over head. We were feeling more reassured for this, and pressed on. As we entered Orangeville, we stopped off to gas and supplies before making the final push down the country roads to the valley. All was going well until we ran into something we didn’t expect to see, and certainly something we’d never see anywhere else on the trip. Sheep. Lots and lots of Sheep. In the road. It was like a scene from rural Yorkshire, only the sheep seemed to be being herded by a Cowboy. Or should that be ‘Sheepboy’? We crept through the seemingly endless flock, popped out the other side and finished the trek down to the river.

It was quiet down here. Well, there was the constant cascade of the river twenty feet or so below, but other than that there was nothing. Just total silence. It was nice. We gathered up our stuff and scrambled down the track in search of some warm up problems. There were a few on a boulder right next to the river. The boulder was, in fact, so next to the river that we couldn’t do some of the problems as our pad would float off down stream. Benny had his eye on one such problem. The Angler. A mega slopey, diagonal rail which runs from just over head height to the top of the boulder. Id’d have thought it would have been scary at the best of times, but with nothing but slippery rocks and two feet of water below you at the crux, it looked even worse! Certainly not for me. Benny was torn, but finally decided it was for the best to give it a miss. We pressed on, further down the river to another boulder which was more what we needed. Standing at around 15 feet or so, the boulder we found had a good number of relatively easy warm up problems on. We worked our way through a handful of V1′, 2’s and 3’s. Up the highest point of the boulder, there were a line of big, juggy yet sloping pockets and holes which made for some good fun highballs! I really needed to work on some highball stuff, especially as if I ever wanted to return to the buttermilks, it was something I was going to have to nail. We managed them quite easily, and it felt nice to be so stable while being so high off the deck. The rock at Joe’s was excellent as well, and felt very reminiscent of Fontainebleau and the Southern Sandstone of our local crags of Bowles and Harrisons. The cool air temperature from being down by the river meant that the friction was superb as well – We were really enjoying it here!

After the warm up, and feeling in good spirits, we decided to make our way back to the road, and see what the other side of the hill had to offer. When we got out, we could see a really large looking, imposing roof jutting up quite close to the road. It was covered in chalk so we decided that that was as good a place as any to start. We got to the roof and had a look around. We consulted the book and saw there was a V4 called Techno Beat on one side of the boulder. We were going to try that, but some how we got distracted. Up the middle of the roof was a perfect little seam, which started on nice, big holds at the bottom and slowly petered through small, slopey crimps to a awkward slopey rail out to the right. This little beauty turned out to be called Big Joe (V7). It was a tall order, but we were inspired. Benny especially. It certainly suited him more than me but we both got stuck in. Benny soon made quick progress up the seam and hit the the first crux move. There was a long, deadpoint move to perfect little three finger slot. Benny came really close a few times on this move, being able to get better established on the bad footholds than I could. Also, his incredible finger strength meant he could hang onto the bad, shallow, sloping crimp which you had to take your weight on while making the big move.A few attempts later and he’d linked up the middle section and began working on the end. Which is also devilishly hard! Typically.

Benny on Big Joe (V7)

I had tired myself out working the lower section and my inability to make any progress was starting to frustrate me. I decided to have a bit of a venture further up the hill to see what else the Big Joe section of the valley had to offer. I followed the map in the guide book and found a few nice looking things, but nothing massively inspiring (especially at this time of the day), and nothing that I could really be bothered to drag all the gear up to. I came back down and reported my findings (or lack there of) to Benny who I’d left working Big Joe. His enthusiasm to do the problem was still sky high, but I think by this point his fingers weren’t quite as psyched. He a few more good burns but then we both came to the conclusion that it was time to call it a day for now. We were keen to do some more gentle stuff to warm down though, so we decided to head a little way up the road, back on the way towards Orangeville, to a spot called New Joe’s.

Ben G. on Big Joe (V7)

There was a map in the guide book to the New Joe’s boulders. More specifically, we wanted to hit the area called Area 51. There was a nice mix of problems which sounded fun. We crammed all the gear back into the Focus, and headed back up the main road, swinging a left where instructed and we slowly crawled up the side road towards a large mine at the end. The map indicated that there should be a small track off to the right which led up to a car park with a solar powered pump in. The first exit which could feasible be the track had a metal gate across. Not a good sign. We pulled in and I jumped out and had a look. Sure enough, it was padlocked. There were no signs or anything, with the exception of a quickly scrawled note by some climbers to some other climbers indicating that they had already gone home – some two weeks earlier. Hmmm. At least that was a sign that we were roughly in the right place. Maybe it was further up. We got back in the car and carried on our crawl up the deserted road. We saw one other possible turn off, but there was no way you could have gotten a car down there! We were now only a few yards from the mine where the road became a dead end. Weird. The only land mark the map could give us was a distance from the turn off from the main road: 3.25 mile. We decided to try one more time, we raced back down to the main road, Benny pulled off a spectacular U-turn, flipped the trip on the speedo and we made our back up towards the mine. We approached the metal gate as the trip meter hit 3.25 miles confirming our suspicions. We scoured the book for any info about it, but there was no mention of it anywhere. The sun was starting to dip down behind the hills now, and we didn’t fancy hiking all the way up to the car park. We decided to head back into Price, have a look online to see if we could find any information about this elusive gate and hit New Joe’s the next day.

The drive back was a lot more pleasant than the drive out. The rain had passed and it had turned into quite a nice evening. We were both starving now, so we headed straight into the centre of Price in search of food. We hadn’t actually considered this up until now, and judging by the state of Price during the day, we weren’t holding our breath for a huge amount of night life. Luckily, Pizza Hut was our salvation. We got in and pretty much had the place to ourselves (with the exception of the debris left from one of the most powerful and destructive forces known to man: a childrens party). Overall, the first day in Joe’s Valley was a success and we were both excited to get back out climbing again the next day!

The sun was creeping in round the side of the blinds as we woke up on our third day in Moab. The more we were settling into life on the road, and life in the US time zones, the later we were starting to wake up too! We finally managed to get ourselves sorted and out of the hotel around 10:30 though. Our plan for the (late) morning was to head to Arches National Park. We loaded up on intensely sugary breakfasty type things from the gas station a couple of doors down, and made the short trip out of town to the park. We wound our way up the steep road that leads up to the start of the amazing, epic landscapes and rock forms. I had visited Arches the previous year, and it is certainly one of the most striking National Parks I’d been to. Although not as lush, green or classically “beautiful” as Yosemite, for example, the sheer vastness, scale and impossibility of some of the arches and rock forms there make for a very different and unusual form of beauty. For a climbing obsessive it’s a paradise as well.

A panorama from Arches National Park (taking in The Three Gossips and Sheep Rock)

As we drove between spots and shot photos, I would find myself staring up at Balanced Rock and imagine myself trying to get round the underside and to the top of this huge, precariously balanced boulder. We drove near enough the length of the main round which runs length ways up the middle of the 76,359 Acres of the park, stopping intermittently to look and various vistas. Towards the end of the road, we stopped at Devil’s Garden Trailhead and got out for a walk. We strolled through the parking lot and spotted all the different license plates from around the country. There were people here from New York, Michigan and even as far afield as Vancouver! Such is the pull of this incredible beauty spot, tagged onto the edge of a little town in the middle of the Utah desert. The path lead us away from the car park, and then split off in a variety of different directions. We took the trail off to our right and went and looked at Tunnel Arch, which was more of a giant hole than an Arch. We then doubled back on ourselves and headed towards the end of the trail, and to Pine Tree Arch. Although tucked away at the end of the trail, Pine Tree Arch offered a really nice, beautifully framed view of the park to the North. By now, the clouds were starting to appear again, and was turning the weather quite humid and uncomfortable. We decided to call it a day for Arches, and we made the slow drive back through the park and back into Moab.

Our destination was a pretty easy choice: McStiff’s it was for lunch and another three hours worth of pool practice! It was nice having the loft at McStiffs to ourselves. We more or less had the whole place to ourselves. We strung out our lunch and games of pool, and generally felt incredibly chilled. I felt grateful to be on the trip, and felt the most relaxed I had for a long while. At around about 3:30, we decided it was time to get motivated, and get back out to the rocks. We swung into the hotel on the way back to Big Bend, gathered up our stuff and hit the Hwy 128 out of town. Big Bend was deserted when we arrived. It was a lot cooler in the valley, and we still had a good five hours of daylight left. We headed to the Black Box Boulder again, and began a short warm up. After the successes for the previous night, we decided to try out some other new problems. We wandered down towards the road, and sussed out a few simple problems on the Flat Top boulder. Flat Top is around ten or twelve feet high with a great long face of tiny pockets and crimps. We tried a couple of problems: The Pregnancy Arete and Leftover Lover.

Benny on the Flat Top Boulder

Continuing our extended warm up, we got a few tricky problems on the Hueco Boulder. As the name suggests, the boulder maninly consists of a row of long Huecos, under a large, slabby face. Benny was keen to try Ranger Bob (V1), which, from a standing start began with a mantel up onto a large ledge, before following a thin crack up the slab. Benny managed the mantel easily, but struggled with the slab. He was having a hard time getting his feet established on the awkwardly angled edges, while still maintaining a decent grip on the crack. Also, the large shelf which he mantled on t begin with went from being a big help to a massive psychological hinderance! It was pretty off putting to commit to the sketchy moves on the highball slab with the knowledge that you’d have a nasty fall onto the ledge! He decided that it wasn’t worth the risk, and after watching Benny on the problem for a good five minutes trying to figure out the sequence, I decided the same. We decided instead to have a stab at Upwardly Mobile (V0) just next door. It started with a sit start on good huecos, before making a massive, off balance move (for me at least) to a side pull. With a lot of heaving and liberal use of the arete, I managed to get up right, and then it was a case of keeping my head in the game long enough to get up the easy but high slab. Benny managed the problem with relative ease as well, albeit with a different sequence at the bottom.

After the warm up, we were feeling good. And, although we’d been enjoying the new problems, the pull of Circus Tricks, which was still close by was too strong. We had to give another try – it was our last night after all. I wasn’t especially confident that I’d get any further along, but I had to give it a while none the less. We chucked the matts down underneath and started working the top section again. At least it was easy to work the crux from the ground. I managed the first couple of moves to get established again on the, by now, all too familiar, bad undercling side pull. I tried more elaborate foot sequences, trying to established as high as possible, before my my fingers finally gave out and I’d drop off. Benny was managing to stick the undercling move now as well. He had to cut loose, but summoning up a phenomenal amount of body tension, he managed to keep himself on! He was now facing the same problem as me, in that he had to work out where to put his feet. We took a break, and spent some time brushing and examining nearly invisible edges in search of something. Benny pointed out an edge for my right foot, slightly higher and longer than what I had been previously using. I’d previously dismissed it as being too small and in the wrong place, but Benny insisted that that was the foothold that he’d seen another guy use to stick the move to the top. I decided to take his work for it, and gave it a try. And you know what, he was right! I jacked my foot up to the hold, and by turning it sideways it sat quite nicely in place. I only had a second or two to make the move, but with my legs now more bent up, I found I could spring off it toward the lip. On the first couple of tries I came incredibly close, getting my fingers well over the lip, but just not being able to hold it! After a couple more attempts I nailed it! I hung there, wondering how to solve the next little problem – The awkward, mantelly top out. I got into this position a couple of times, and just couldn’t bring myself to throw my leg up and over to top out! I felt a lot more confident and excited about it now though, but unfortunately very tired at the same time. I just wished we had another evening to try it. Gah! We had to pack up and leave the next morning. It looked like Circus Tricks would have to wait until another time. I have no idea when though…

Benny on Circus Tricks

We decided to end on a high, so we packed up and headed back into town for dinner. Moab had been great again, and I hope to get back there one day. But now, it was off to somewhere new for both of us! The next day we were heading off across Utah to Joe’s Valley! And we had no idea what to expect…

Sorry, that interruption perhaps wasn’t as brief as I’d intended. So erm, anyway, where was I?…

I slept surprisingly well in the Hostel. However, we were both very keen to get checked out and checked into somewhere a bit better equipped. We were also beginning to take on the appearance of the road weary travellers, and it was time to smarten up. We decided to forego the shower (which did look like the sort of utility which seemed to do the opposite of what it was designed for – in this case, making you dirtier than when you went in). We checked out and headed down Moab’s main drag to get breakfast at the frightfully continental sounding Pancake Haus. Das ist gut. After getting all carbed up, we checked into the Super 8 at the opposite end of the strip, dropped off our stuff and immediately headed back out to get smartened up. We found a tiny little barbers shop just off one of the side roads, and while Norm worked his hair based magic, the three of us put the world to rights. Norm told us all about the state of Utah (read into that what you will) and we thanked our lucky stars that in this hugely religious, largely republican state we were currently nestled in a little corner of left wing happiness. After our shearing (which is what it had become after a good six weeks or so) we went back to the hotel to get showered and from there, feeling human once again, we ventured out into the midday heat. We trawled the various bike and climbing stores looking for trainers and things before retiring to our local for more games of pool and lunch. We must have been in McStiffs for a good few hours waiting for the clouds to disappear and the humidity to subside enough for us to head back to Big Bend.

Benny breaking off one of our many games of Pool at McStiffs...

As late afternoon rolled around, we made our way out towards Big Bend, stopping by the hotel on the way to grab our stuff. It was turning into a beautiful evening. Where as in the midday sun, the exposed Big Bend area would have been a little sun trap, with the run starting to dip behind the mountains the conditions were perfect. Once again, when we arrived the place was deserted (with the exception of some campers over the road). We dropped our stuff down in front of the Black Box Boulder and began warming up on some of the crimpy little problems on the BBB. All was going well until I started to feel a pain in my finger. It felt like it was bruised at the base where it meets the palm of the hand. Nothing terrible, enough to make crimping down on tiny holds uncomfortable. It slowly dawned on me. This had happened before. I’d strained the tendon. It’s a pesky little affliction which is still plaguing even as I write this, months later. D’oh. I rested for a while, while Benny worked some ridiculously crimpy, barely there problem called BBB-5. I did have a cursor attempt on it, but sore fingers aside, I couldn’t even get off the ground on it anyway. The starting holds were the tiniest of sloping crimps, and for me they were situated a little over waist height. Although there were good starting footholds, I couldn’t take any weight on my hands, and therefore couldn’t get balanced which resulted in me stumbling backwards every time. I decided it was a lost cause for me and sat back with the camera and watch Benny work his magic. Being shorter than me, he could drop down onto the starting hand holds more, get established and then move off them. From there things got bigger (both the holds and the moves between them), but Benny soon worked the whole thing out and was at the top in no time. He was happy he’d sent the problem – I was equally happy too. Whilst he’d been trying the impossible start, I’d gotten perhaps one of my favourite shots of the trip. Happy days…

Benny on the Black Box Boulder. One of my favourite shots from the trip.

Now the pain my finger had subsided, I was keen to get climbing again. I’d been flicking through the guidebook, and I’d noticed that there was a V3 variation to the traverse problem Benny had done the night before. The variation was only one move different (possibly even less than that) – instead of sticking religiously to the break running just below the top of the boulder, there was a large sloper on the lower lip which was in the V3 version, but not the V4. This made such a massive difference to me. I could now hold on long enough on the sloper to move my feet and left hand around, and to get established for the next crux moves. Feeling very psyched by my new discovery, I laid the matts down and went for a full attempt. It took me a couple of goes to get the footwork right, but once that sequences was sorted out, I sailed through the moves and topped out with ease! Hurrah! It was starting to feel like the previous nights demons had been laid to rest. It was exciting!

After the initial victory on the Trail Traverse, I was up for finding something else on the same boulder to attack! Another problem topped out in the same place as Trail Traverse which I liked the look of. It was a nice, short V2 called Middle Man. The crux came down to essentially one long between two massive holds – perfect for me! The guidebook’s definition of the problem was intriguingly cryptic about the problem too. The book hinted at there being a crafty, techniquey way around it. After a little discussion we pretty much had it sussed. The move was too big, with too scrunchy a start to dyno for the ledge, but, the foot and hand holds there were good enough to drop in a serious drop knee move to pull up to the lip with relative ease – Especially for a freak like ape boy like me. On the first attempt, I had my balance all wrong and just missed the lip. Second time though, I stuck it

with ease! Then it was just a case of a simple, smeary top out and it was all over! An awesome problem! However, where Benny had the advantage on the tiny, crimpy problem on the Black Box Boulder I had the advantage here. He still got agonisingly close to it though With a while longer working it, I reckon the problem would have gone…

Feeling sufficiently warmed up, we decided to attack Circus Tricks again. Unfortunately, it hadn’t gotten any easier over night as I’d hoped. The fgoot holds were still small, and we were still struggling. Benny was still trying to suss the move to the bad undercling, and although getting closer all the time, still not managing to stick it. He was landing the hold a lot more solidly now though which was encouraging, and actually getting to the stage where he could move his feet around. I still couldn’t find a decent enough placement to make the big last move to the lip. We worked the problem unsuccessfully for a few hours before deciding to call it a night. We went back into town and found a nice little Pizza place, we ate our fill and sunk a few beers before retiring for the now seemingly luxurious Super 8 for the night…

First off, apologies for the delay in the next few posts. We’re trying to catch up with the backlog, but it’s proving tricky. We’re used to using the driving days to catch up, but sadly, being back home we no longer have any. Our story will be finished though, I promise you this!

In the mean time, here’s a little treat for you. To prove that we haven’t just been sitting around, B² Productions have put together a new, short film from Hueco Tanks in Texas. It’s a selection of some of our favourite problems there. Don’t expect to see any big numbers go down, but hopefully you’ll still enjoy watching the problems we tried. You may enjoy the big send at the end though! We’d love to here any feedback you might have! Enjoy!