Halloween- Trail Daze #10

Thanks so very much to Tyler Hall and Gray C, Shane and Chris Egress,Josiah Weeks, Scott Drummond, Nicholas Kurland and Cindy Gray for braving temperatures in the 30's, overcast skies, cold winds and drizzle to make Saturday another in a series of incredible Trail Daze events.

In a matter of hours, this crew built a new switchback to reduce impact on a beautiful old oak tree, removed all traces of the older trail, and did an amazing job of shoring up the trail and stabilizing the belay below Superman.

Strategy session

(L to R) Scott Drummond, Nick Kurland and Chris Egress dig in.

Josiah sez: No gluten or dairy, just CAFFEINE!!!

When the work was done, the rock wranglers descended to inhale chicken pasta salad, power gels and chocolate, then, despite the occasional shower of rain, they dragged out packs and headed back up their freshly-laid trail to tear up some routes.

Nick Kurland and friend Eric worked their way methodically across the wall, dispatching my routes Still Laughing (5.10) and Reaching Conclusions (5.10). After several hangs and combinations of moves, they sent Ryan Eubank's Golden Horseshoe (5.10+) and fought through Fisher's Hunter's Moon (5.10+).  Josiah Weeks, fresh back from the Red River Gorge, warmed up on the great moderate Second Rule with mountain bike madman Scott Drummond on belay , while Tyler Hall and Chris Egress battled the powerful, hard-to-read start of Mike Fisher's La Machina.  

Nick Kurland snaps for the ledge on Golden Horseshoe, one of the great 5.10s to be found at The Reach, Reed's Creek

Tyler Hall rolls through the lower cruxes of Hunter's Moon

Chris Egress cranks through the roof on La Machina

Leaving the youngsters to shred, I collected my wife, relaxing with some friends who actually live above the crag, and we headed off to prepare for a night at Thorn Springs Campground.

We chowed pizza and Halloween candy, talked over issues of the day and assorted trivia of global importance, sipped tasty adult carbohydrate replacement beverages and handed out T-shirts to all our volunteers.

The day's work and play finally caught up with us all around 10 p.m. Good nights were made and we hit the racks.

Cindy rose early to begin frying bacon and making mounds of oatmeal pancakes, and I eyed snow pellets falling from rolling skies as I summoned the survivors to breakfast.

Crispy bacon, pancakes, Sunny D and French press coffee: the Trail Daze crew relaxes post breakfast (courtesy of PHAR/UP and Cindy Gray) in Cabin 51, Thorn Spring Campground

Shane Egress: a force of nature

The South Branch of the Potomac glitters and shines in the autumn sun.

Interesting fact- we have now held EIGHT more local trail work events than the corporate-funded Access Fund, and almost all of our events were funded out-of-pocket or by donations fromsmall companies and local climbers... as opposed to shilling the only automobile without a hybrid or cams made in China.

Outside of Seneca, the two local events in which the Access Fund did (belatedly) participate were created, organized and seen to completion by a non-member.... can you guess who?

PHAR/UP: local climbers making a real difference. 

Being part of the solution, instead of the problem, for over a decade.

Contact us today for information on Trail Daze, local crags and the Smoke Hole Shuttle Service: (304) 668-2856; via email: phar.up.2014@gmail.com

Superstitions Christmas

Ravens dancing in the wind above the fisted red volcanic stone, frosted in verdant green, saguaros stretching green arms towards a sky full of wind-torn clouds, Cindy laughing at my stupid jokes as the massive sentinel of the Superstition Mountain casts long shadows across the timeless, ever-changing landscape. Snow highlights the distant bastion of Four Peaks, a lenticular cloud stretching to the horizon, with flakes drifting to the barren, grateful desert denizens below.

We bump down a dusty road of trailers and adobe and cinderblock which will, with the coming of dusk, be transformed into an avenue of flashing, glittering holiday color and lights, saguaros and palo verde, acacia and palm trees standing in for their evergreen cousins in most, with the occasional traditionalist displaying their proud Scotch Pine or hilariously scraggly high-plains cedar. The madness of inflatables does not translate well into cactus country, so we are spared the more garish displays of holiday overkill, but the department stores and radio stations make up for any lack.

Driving times and nights around the camp table, talk inevitably drifts East and we reminisce about the Blue Ridge, the deep forests and green hills, the snow and the cold and the storms; our first hike, through 7 inches of fresh snow, with temps in the 20s and winds topping out at 45 mph, laughing in the lee of a fallen tree while sharing a smoke and a cup of hot coffee from the thermos; camping on the North Fork the Christmas my love decided to become Cindy Gray, proposing over a four course meal and drinks in the midst of a driving snowstorm; sipping Irish cream and hot chocolate beside the woodstove, while Prairie Home Companion took us through another two hours of music and comedy and the snow piled up past three feet for 28 days in a row, from December 18 through the first weeks of the new year. 

Comparisons are made, between this year's camp, living out of a 8 x 10 tent tucked in the folds of the Apache Lakes and Superstitions, to last year's crime-surrounded, bedbug-infested apartment in Flagstaff, and we have spent more than a few hours finding hilarious similarities and striking differences between operations at the non-profit Flagstaff Family Food Center and the fairly upscale Canyon Lake Restaurant and Cantina where Cindy is charming the community as a hostess and I am currently slinging burgers and Philly cheese steaks as a line cook.
  
Hearing reports of weather to the north, I think of the long hours spent in the tiny cab of a Bobcat, pushing snow all night through some of Flag's worst storms to earn a buck, piloting the little blue truck through conditions that were immobilizing huge 4x4s and returning saddlesore and exhausted to the warm hugs and hot food that always greeted me at the door to our little nest.  Cindy tells me stories of the weeks of holiday preparations and celebrations among the Mennonite families she grew up in and knew as a child, and of the Christmases spent in South America. 

Mostly, this time of year, we think of and pray for our far-flung families, and our amazing friends, and thank God for our incredible blessings and continuing fortune, the greatest proof of which is those very precious souls who grace us with their wit and charm, their foibles and sorrows, small talk and big doings and pet peeves.

If the world should end tomorrow (and I very much doubt that it will), no man or woman was ever given more grace and bounty in the way of wondrous, informative, generous spirits to light our way along the Path.

May the holidays and the coming year bring you laughter for every day you shake your head in bewilderment, sunshine to follow your every cloud, a hug for every hour you walk in doubt, and the priceless gift of love, shared among yourselves, filling every cup to overflowing. 

May we all find it within ourselves to give back more than we are given, to live IN THE NOW, true to our highest selves and beliefs in the face of adversity and change.