48050 - August update

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Dag,
   Iris (Anacorted, 48050 miles)

47771 - The highs are high

Did the kayaking on Chelan lake helped me over my low time, meeting somebody who I love will even do better. I call N and 2 days later he encloses me in his arms and I feel immediately fully alive.


Mount Forbidden
The trail into Boston Basin is steep and trashy. Even carrying most of our stuff, N is so much faster then me. I stuffer up the trail and don't complain when we make camp just below the towering peak of Forbidden (2687m).

It seems to be the most perfect spot to spend the afternoon, reading, cooking and talking. I always love it to meet people again. There is no need for introduction, for explaining my trip or my name. This time its even better, while I remember many of our conversations in Cochise and we can just continue where we had left.

N hangs our bags out of reach from the local marmot community. The stars are out and the night is warm. We are however crawled deep into our sleeping bags, not out of reach from the field mouse who torture us all night.

We wake up with the sun and after an hour hiking reach the Forbidden glacier. More for my mental comfort then any safety reasons (we have no snow picks or ice screws) we rope up by doubling our twin rope. I have to search deep into my memory. Crampons, ice axe, self arrest. I just copy what N does, and it all slowly seems to come back to me. N keeps moving and I figure, where ever this guy goes, I will just follow.

Due to a significant bergschund (crevasse between the stagnating ice and moving ice) we move over to the rock wall instead of the couloir. We change to climbing shoes and leave boots, crampons and ice axe behind. N leads the easy couple technical pitches up to the ridge above. From there we start simul climbing the ridge. N is also a way better climber then me, and I am happy when he stops to place gear. But then the rope gets tight again, and off I go. There is no time to think what would be the easiest move. Climb climb climb.

The view at the top is stunning on this gorgeous day. A sea of peaks, glaciers, glacier polish loaded lakes, surrounds us and volcanoes are dotting the horizon. We are spending a long time at the top, imprinting this moment for ever in our memory.

The down goes via several raps and quickly we are back at our gear.

When I put on my crampon, it jumps off my shoe and falls deep into the randkluft (crevasse between the rock and ice). When I climb down, I find it balancing above an abyss with the straps just within reach. The snow is soft now and we don't need them again. But it’s a good habit to bring back rented gear.

I am tired when we make it back to camp. As in Cochise however, N likes to move on. If I want to be in the present of this guy, also here, I should just follow and don’t even start thinking of whining. And so we descend back to the car the same day. At night we catch up on our conversation till all the stars are for hours already blinking in the ceiling above.

Cuttroat pass
The weather turns against us and for 2 days we wonder around.


Early Winter Spires (2380m)
We pack up again and with iffy weather pitch up the tent just below the Early winter spires. The clouds come and go. Hope this weather is turning to be for the good. The first route North West corner is 5.9 5-pitch on North Early Winter Spire. Clouds roll in and out and on the 4th pitch they decide to give us some treat. 3 minutes ago I was baking in the sun on the belay, now I am covered in hail. The route is less interesting then we had suspected from looking at the huge layback flake and N suggests another route for the late afternoon. He is serious, I am not. We are camped without water and have to deal with that first. No problem for N and he fills a backpack with empty bottles and water bag and is back in an hour. Please give me a guy like that.

By now its dark and another climb, well 2 other climbs are scheduled for tomorrow. We are both happy. N with “2 climbs” scheduled for tomorrow, me with 2 climbs scheduled for “tomorrow”.

So we start with West Face 5.10- (with a small section of 5.10d/5.11) on the North Early Winter Spire again. Its very good. I climb much better and only take a fall on the 5.11 part. Thin finger locks with slippery feet. The rest is a fun and quality technical climbing. We rap down and I am tired. But I have promised, and got coffee in bed this morning. If I start my day like that, I am yours. Tell me and I will do.

A quick lunch and we head over to the South Early Winter Spire. South West Buttress with 7 pitches of 5.7/5.8 and some harder variations. I can handle that, although why do we have to do the harder variations. Again, I just follow up.

When the sun is out its nice and warm, when clouds are blocking its cold. Happy to wear 5 layers. And even more happy about that when we start descending the shitty gully down. Luckily we can setup raps as its getting darker and now snow starts falling out of the sky. Its hard to keep the spirit high, together we manage.

Back at camp we make a quick breakfast. That’s the only food left for dinner. Luckily there is coffee for in the morning, because breakfast would be back at Oto. I am pretty beaten up, and sleep very well. N takes the rope, the gear and the tent, the next morning. I take the empty bear box. Where do I sign up for a guy like this?

7/24 and still I want to talk more, to enjoy more, to feel his present more. This was one of the best weeks. Love you.

Dag,
   Iris (Marblemount, 47771 miles)

47253 - Crawling out

I can keep crying or just do something about it. It will be an emotional roller coaster, but as always, endorphine will be the solution. My eye falls on Stehekin, a small town at the end of lake Chelan.

The cheapest and safest place to leave Oto is $35 and that sucks. Although its Sunday the ranger opens the information station when I seek help in town. He offers a parking spot at the Twenty Five mile ranger station for free and will keep an eye on Oto. Thats helps.

The kayak is always a bit of a hassle. When its loaded there is not much I can do with it, and many time it takes all my strength to pull it up the shore. This time I launch my kayak by sliding it down some stairs and when its almost at the water level I loose control. It slides straight into a canoe at the bottom of the launch dock. I try to pull it back out, with the only result that is slides even deeper into the canoe. I am at the point of crying again. I can only see one solution. And so I sink the canoe and float the kayak out of its stuck position. Sorry.

The paddling goes smooth and after 3 hrs I find a bivy spot on a rock and start feeling better.

From the 29 miles, there are 20 miles left for tomorrow according to the map. Whoosh, the wind picks up my map and blows it into the water. My luck, I camp near the deepest point of the lake, 453 meter deep and gone it is. That sucks.

The spot is just behind a land beacon with many gun shot holes in it and that can suck. I sleep very well nonetheless.

The mountains are a bit boring and I just push for it. 7 hrs of just plain paddling. I hardly rest. I start feeling better with every stroke. It works as a trance, I get tired, I stop thinking and forward I go.

I am death tired when arriving in Stehekin and the free campground is horrible. That will ruin my mood and I start worrying. Also here the ranger helps me out though, and points me to a campground across the lake. More paddling, lots of mosquitoes, lots of biting black flies. I am all alone though, and the view is good. The following day I spend lingering around the dock, swim, read, swim, read, linger, swim, read. That feels good.

I feel much better the next day and paddle over to Stehekin. The bakery has amazing bread and the organic garden sells me some goat cheese. Back at camp the neighbour drops by and hands me a big lake trout. With a blunt knife, I butcher the fish, I pop open a beer, and life is pretty good again. Also feeling very proud that I filleted my first fish ever. I can handle life again it won’t get me down.

There is more reading and swimming the next day and in the afternoon I go kayaking with D, the local kayak guide. We never find the waterfall we were directed to and the way back is a struggle against the wind. I do feel good though.

The evening I spend at his house, where the seasonal workers are having a party. They are young and its as always here in the USA, only about drinking. I am bored and feel depressed, but I am dreading the paddle back in the dark to camp.

One of the hotshot firefighters gives me suddenly a hug, a kiss and whispers in my ear that I am amazing. X offers me a couch in his house and a bike for the next day. Thank you both, it saved the night for me.

I am healed and its time to paddle the 10hrs back. The plan is to spend the night at the same bivy spot, but gun shots automatically point the kayak to the other shore. Welcome in America. I bivy again alone and feel very good. Love this life, love to be active during the day, love to sleep under the stars. Jeh, life is good again.

Dag,
   Iris (Chelan, 47253 miles)

47063 - The lows are low

For 3 days I am crying now. I am not complaining, I do know I have a wonderful life. However sometimes being alone on the road is, well kind of alone. Leaving Colorado behind is hard on me. I loved the mountains, I loved the outdoors, I loved the people. Having mostly written about the high times in this blog, it has seems there were no low times. But the steady life I had before has been replaced by a life with many ups and downs. By leaving Colorado, I hit for sure the lowest down point of my trip.

It’s a romantic thought, traveling through the world. Seeing beautiful places, meeting amazing people, experiencing great adventures. In practice, its “just” my life. It sound snobby but there is a thing as travel tired. An over load of another lake, another mountain, another great view. Having done a long trip before I knew the symptoms and surprised many new friends by just staying inside for the first day at their place. Please, my brain can not handle another input. It still needs time to process the previous experience.

Traveling around also makes you every time the new kid in town. That attracts attention. Sometimes I just want to be left alone, be one of them. Being new also leaves me behind on the in and outs of the region. Having not even grown up in this country, I always feel I am a step behind to start off with. I do not know about hunting, about fishing, about mountaineering, about building with wood, about seasonal work, about avalanches, about mountain biking, about tides, about sustainable living. Every time I have to build up the knowledge, the confidence and establish a position again for me, Iris.

How wonderful it has been to stay at so many peoples place. I always have to adjust to their life. I miss a place of my own, where things go my way. I miss the familiar. I miss friends which go back for a while. I miss a regular life.

But I am also afraid of the future. How much longer? Where do I go afterwards? What do I want? Alone? Who am I? These questions race through my mind at times and overwhelm me when I am in a low.

And now I am at the low of the lows and hardly have myself in control. I plan to go hiking in the Wind Range, but leg the energy and mental strength to pull it off. Instead I start crying again and continue driving alone along the roads heading north. I pick up a hitch hiker just back from a river in Idaho. He tells me I have a wonderful life, but I don’t believe him. I cry when he leaves my car and I keep driving. I look up at the Tetons in Wyoming and still keep driving.

Washington, what the hell am I going to do here?

Dag,
   Iris (Newhalem, 47063 miles)

45703 - Acquaintance, Friends, Best Friends

Somehow the term acquaintance became offensive. An acquaintance is called friend, and a friend is called best friend. There are old best friends and new best friends, good friends and just friends. Its complicated and not something to mess up. To grasp that underlying tone is something I didn’t manage yet, and in consequence I use the term “friend” loosely for everybody around me.

But where I am from, I would call her an acquaintance. We would see each other twice a week in the gym and might have said “hoi”. We would maybe ask what the other had climbed that weekend, but no extended conversation would follow. We had our own group of friends and at max we had 4 overlapping. I had heard about her wedding and her pregnancy, she had heard about my trip.

Somehow I drop P an email and ask about if there is a baby yet. The answer is a picture of baby D (who is a quarter Dutch), an update about a move to Boulder, and an invitation to step by. A hookup in Boulder, you only have to tell me that once.

What I find is way more then just a hook up. I find one of the most amazing woman in this country. I feel so welcome, so at ease. She so easily makes me part of her life that I can’t understand that we kind of just met. We connect in cooking (how embarrassing that an Asian woman has to teach me how to make cheese), in raising kids,

in our view of relationships, in climbing,

in sustainable living, in our outlook of life, in talkativeness. And we keep wondering, why weren’t we friends back in the Bay Area? Why did we miss out all these years?

Acquaintance, friend, best friend. I might totally mess things up now, but P, you are one of my best friends. Love you.

Dag,
   Iris (Boulder, 45703 miles)

44972 - Rock 'n Road

Me: Wow, your van smells of gasoline.
T: Sorry, it had its best time. It seems that you are on a road trip.
Me: Jeh, I am, loving it.
T: You kayak, bike, what else do you do?
Me: Oh, some climbing, hiking, backpacking, snowshoeing, what ever comes my way.
T: Cool. So you climb. You know the book Rock ‘n Road.
Me: Jeh, as a matter of fact, I have it right here.
T: Well, I am the writer.
Me: Oh really. So what is the best climbing area in the country?
T: Its right here in Frisco. You see that rock over there, it has a 20 pitch climb on it. You wane climb it?
Me: Sure. When?
T: Now!
Me: Now? Isn’t that a little bit to late, its 14:00 already and afternoon thunderstorms are quite common here. Like as in everyday common.
T: We can just run it up in 4 hrs, its 5.7/5.8, most of the half pitches we can link, and no route finding necessary as I set up the route myself. If it starts raining, we rap down.
Me: Wow.
T: There is however a book sell here at the library “Fill a plastic bag for $3”. I want to go there first.
Me: I come to that.

Me: By now its 15:00 you still want to climb or go for some coffee?
T: Lets climb.
Me: Hmmmm, hmmmm, okay, lets do it.

Me: The best in the country, for sure not. But it was an afternoon spend well.

Dag,
   Iris (Frisco, 44972 miles)