

I guess it’s pretty telling that the last time I was compelled to add to this blog was when COVID first came around, over a year ago. I wrote, “Most of us don’t know it yet, but society will be dramatically different when the crisis is over. I believe, like Spenser, we can all work together to make it an improved one. To me, this feels like a restart, a second-chance – for each community, and our entire globalized world.” And I guess I went all in. 2 months ago, shortly after moving into our new home in Bishop, I started an online Master’s in Public Health program at UC Berkeley. As Spenser mentioned last week, he’d rather have a father than a house, and I would also rather have a father-in-law. But, I am nonetheless grateful for our newfound stability. In preparation for the workload, I’ve left most of my duties at Joe’s Valley Fest (in very capable hands, I might add). I’m still on the Board, but no longer manage Marketing or Sponsorships, this is done by a new guy who works with experts from indexsy. The RV Project is still a production company, and we are still working on editing the now-infamous-to-all-our-family-and-friends Steve Project. The stability has allowed for progress that needs to be appreciated, even though we habitually feel years behind. Years behind what you might ask? Yea, exactly… Photo and video work is evermore important. COVID has amplified how significant the role of misinformation is…
The last time we caught up was before Halloween 2020. Aye, it’s been about 4 months, in fact. Jeez. The RV Project has been regrouping. The past 12 months have been hard and weird for everyone, and the 10 months before that were pretty fucked up for us too. As far as I am aware, I’ve never had a proper concussion, but if I understand the symptoms correctly, then it would be fair to say that we’re recovering from something of a Traumatic Brain Period. We’re a little disoriented, we’re a little more irritable and quick-tempered, and we fatigue easily. Sensitive to bright light, too. After spending the better part of 2 years helping my parents navigate Life With Cancer (and a few months helping my mom embark on Life as a Widow), we now find ourselves in sunny San Diego, La Jolla to be precise. We’ve rented an apartment a few blocks from Vikki’s parents for a few months, so that we can help them navigate Life As Lonely Immigrants. Let me tell you something: Fuck La Jolla. Yeah, it’s expensive, but it’s not that. It’s the way people scoop up their dogs when they see Little Dude, because they don’t actually have dogs, they have Urban Accessories, and accessories don’t need to socialize. It’s the way that store clerks, especially California Bicycles in La Jolla, size up your wallet with a glance and decide if you’re worth a smile or not. It’s the straight-faced existence of businesses like…
So, I woke up the other morning, had some coffee, sauteed some kale and garlic and eggs, and watched the president address the nation. Could someone please help me figure out why the news media, in this critical time, actually directs questions to Trump? How much time have we wasted digesting his bullshit, filtering the garbage to arrive at the inevitable conclusion, time and again, that he says only what will might improve his standing as compared with 5 seconds ago? The wife just helpfully said that it may help to think of Trump as a jester. He’s a rodeo clown, with full make-up, doing a TeleTubbies’ interpretive dance of what a toddler in a Serious Adult suit might behave like (in another blow to the economy, Trump obviates the existence of satire; many hilarious people are suddenly destitute, trading cheap jokes for smack in back alleys). Nobody knows anything in this crazy, crazy world, but I tell ya what, I know a perfect slab of rock when I see one. All photos were taken before the Inyo County Sherriff put the ol’ kibbosh on the klettergartens. To sum up the day, I finished breakfast and Trump finished talking. The stock market started to glissade again, and had to self-arrest. Then Trump was asked if he thought that we’d be seeing the effects of Covid for 12-18 months, like all of the world’s experts have been suggesting, and he flatly denied that it was possible. He was asked about his…
Hey before I get into the update, I want to mention that Vikki put a whole bunch of her pictures from her years as the Head Photog at the Women’s Climbing Festival up at Berkeley Ironworks, the day before leaving for the east side. They look RAD. If you’re in the Bay, give ’em a look-see before they come down at the end of March. Greetings from our little garden on Grove Street! We’ve placed the trailer in a friend’s backyard in Bishop, CA. If we seem elated, it’s because we are. Bishop has long been a favorite climbing destination for us. I’ve probably spent close to two years here in aggregate. It’s within a half-day’s drive from the Bay and LA, has most of the big-town stores and amenities, and is within striking distance of just about anything you can imagine when it comes to outdoor recreation. A full price ticket at the movie theater is $8, and there’s rarely a line at the DMV. Granted, there are unsavory corners and incidents unbecoming of an idyllic mountain retreat (I just heard about this one from a few weeks ago…), but one needn’t get involved in any of that if one chooses not to. We made it here on Tuesday afternoon, and spent the first few days in town taking care of life logistics. I bought a bike at the Gear Exchange, an XL Stumpjumper 29er hardtail for $350. It needs a little TLC, and I want to add a…
This won’t be a very involved or long post, because typing is really awkward. I just got out of my very minor elbow surgery, and I’m not supposed to really do anything for the next week or so with my right hand. It was performed by Dr. Chad Roghair with Cal Sports Sports and Orthopaedic Institute. Both my mom and brother have had their shoulders put back together at their office, so they come with plenty of trustworthy testimonials. The procedure went as well as can be, and in a week I can start what will hopefully be a pretty quick and aggressive rehab. Right now, it’s a little achey and sore, and I’ve got a sling to remind me not to do anything with it. Not doing anything totally sucks, but it’s quite precisely what the doctor ordered… I hadn’t really thought about the implications of a bum arm. I’ve broken my right hand a few times, so I’m pretty accustomed to brushing my teeth, in case of any dental issues you can also find this to maintain oral health. You can also check out https://alluredental.com/tmj-migrene/ this link if you need the best dental services, too! And wiping my butt with ol’ Lefty, but I didn’t really think about the fact that I can’t really wash dishes, or drive a stickshift. I guess I’ll be doing a lot of abs. As I heal from the surgery, I’ll start gathering some of the resources I’ve been looking at to gain…
It’s the year 2020, and I still can’t do Soulslinger. I’ve waged war on that thing, with fresh skin and good conditions, many more times than I can count. I’ve heard it called “soft” or “easy” 3 times for every time someone said they found it hard. It was my buddy Dan Kovner’s first V9, and he said he did it in 4 tries. I just learned it was Ethan Pringle’s first V9, and he only needed 2 attempts. I am certain that there is no climb V9 or below that I’ve tried as many times as Soulslinger without success. I won’t complain, because we’ve been resting our heads at an off-grid cabin near Mono Lake. The place belongs to a photographer friend who works almost exclusively from a small airplane, making beautiful and thought-provoking images of the American southwest. His name is Mike Light, and I owe him thanks for much more than a stay at the cabin. During a previous visit to the cabin, I grabbed one of the photography books off the shelf. It happened to be called Invisible: Covert Operations and Classified Landscapes by Trevor Paglen, and its pages depicted that which we–civilians–are not supposed to see: “black sites” in the desert, spy satellites in the night sky, and documents pertaining to CIA shell corporations. Mike told me that Trevor had used this very cabin to take images of the night sky for the book. It’s the year 2020, and it’s an election year. It’s the…
As most of you know, I love doing lots of stuff and then collapsing in an exhausted heap. Right now I feel like collapsing in an exhausted heap, but I don’t feel as though I did anything. It’s like the difference between swimming and treading water…2019 felt like a year of trying not to drown. OK, maybe not the whole year. 2019 began well enough. The trailer was parked near Hueco Tanks, plugged in to the grid at Gleatherland. We climbed a few things, made new friends, solidified old friendships, survived an Emergency at the Border, and we even got to take my parents out to White Sands in New Mexico. As spring began, we hitched up and moved back to Castle Dale, UT, so that we might do some climbing in Joe’s Valley. Mayor Danny invited us to park the trailer on his land, and the next few weeks passed in a blur of hiking, climbing, and planning the Joe’s Valley Bouldering Festival for fall. Tumors and Tendinosis Then my dad got cancer, specifically Angioimmunoblastic T-Cell Lymphoma (AITL). The disease first manifested in late March as severe back pain and night sweats, which were unexplained by any imaging or blood tests. After a month or so of worsening nerve pain and a loss of 30 pounds, they finally biopsied a lymph node, found the AITL, and began chemotherapy. On the day of his first round of chemo, my dad was barely able to stand without assistance. Already struggling with…
I don’t really know what to say here these days. It’s been so long since we regularly updated, and it seems like so much has been happening that even the thought of sitting down to write about it feels like a distraction. I’ve also fallen out of practice when it comes to writing, which makes this here blog editor a downright daunting place. So I’m writing this post for the sake of writing a post, and I don’t really know where I’m headed. When I feel like I’m done writing, I’ll throw a few pictures in or something. Let’s see, I’m back to climbing again. The elbow is still quite limiting, and I have finally made an appointment to have it looked at with imaging and all. While I can climb most things that I could a year ago without really noticing any pain, certain pinches and narrow compression moves can really piss it off. While I’m happy to be climbing again, it’s been a long time since I could train power at 100%, and I’m not really enjoying the long plateau. That said, since we’ve been in the Bay Area for a while now, we have sort of embraced the weekend warrior culture and gone on little weekend jaunts to Yosemite and Kings Canyon. Some cool climbing-related things: Verm was back in the Valley trying Midnight Lightning again, this time coming back from a torn Achilles. It’s impossible to overstate what a dream it is to be invited to…
It’s July. It was April when we last checked in. How’s it going? Today is Decaf: Day 2 (or rather, it was when this was originally written), because my birthday challenge this year includes a “dry July” and no caffeine, so I’m a little out of it. Mostly I’m wondering what the hell it is that people do when they get out of bed in the morning, if coffee isn’t part of that routine. Life took one of those turns for us, and we now are settled in the Bay Area for the rest of the summer. I may get into that story, but it’s a long one, and doesn’t yet have a conclusion. At least things are stable for now, and we’re slowly but surely getting back into the groove. We left Utah at the start of May. A week later, Vikki was flying to South Korea to film for Arc’teryx (film should be complete in the next few weeks, stay tuned folks). At the end of May, I flew to SLC to read a teleprompter for UTopia, and then drove the truck from Castle Dale back to California. The purpose of the trip was to retrieve our hard drives, clothes, climbing gear, and computer. I ended up driving 950+ miles in a 14-hour push, making a slight detour near Ely to check out Lamoille Canyon. The Summer Outlook The first thing you should know is that my elbow is a bit of a mess. I knew that the…