I’ve been looking forward to writing about last weekend since before it happened. Time tends to prove the strength of ties that bind.

Me, Bryce, and Laura, deep in the Alaska range on our NOLS course in June 2007. (Photo: David Kahn)

Friday afternoon I finished my hours at work early and met Bryce and Brad who were fresh into Missoula on a little motorcycle tour as part of their new big thing. They came partially for the beer and music festival put on by New Belgium brewing, but I’d like to think I had something to do with it. Bryce and I met on my NOLS course in 2007, and quickly became close friends. Since then, our paths have crossed in Bozeman, Flagstaff, and Salt Lake City as our lives have wandered in pursuit of the adventure.  Every time, the conversation seems to pick up just where it left off.

Doin’ my thang. It’s fun to realize that I’ve learned things that other people want to know about.

I said goodbye late Friday night, because Brian and I were headed to Butte early on Saturday morning. I was invited to give a talk on Energy Conservation as it relates to renewable energy at the Montana Renewable Energy Association‘s annual Clean Energy Affair event. Getting to share some of what I’ve learned in the past few years reminds me why I’ve chosen to spend my time as I have.  Plus, rubbing elbows with the Governor is never a bad thing. Brian came along to get some climbing in on the incredible granite just outside of town. Even better, he got to do it with an awesome lady that I haven’t seen in far too long.

Brian and Ren, ready to rap off.

I spent most of 2010 commuting from Portland to Los Angeles to see someone special. At the end of that year, our lives were headed in different directions.  It hurt, as the end of things always do, but there were never curse words. Earlier this year, Ren emailed and said she was leaving LA with a camper and some climbing gear. I mentioned the quality of adventures here in Montana, and she promised to make a point of visiting. She and her guy Jesse were driving up from Yellowstone, en route to Glacier National Park, so climbing in Butte fit perfectly. Brian provided some local knowledge on Saturday while I gave my talk, and Sunday found us as two teams of two climbing at Spire Rock. I couldn’t have been more psyched to see Ren and meet Jesse.

Beef roast, avocado, cheese, and bread- this always seems to happen when Ren is around.

While at the conference on Saturday though, I got a last minute call from my dear friends Jordan and Cari, who were also passing through Missoula on Sunday night and hoping for a place to crash. The new house provided ample space, and Missoula offered a gorgeous evening to meet old friends. Monday afternoon we all floated the Clark Fork and ate the grass-fed Montana beef rump roast I had been saving in the freezer. Fine times with finer people- summer in Missoula is a good thing and I am very grateful.

Ties that bind across time and distance.

It was the first thing out of my mouth. I don’t know why- but the guy on the dock asked us for a team name and it just tumbled out. I’m not even sure I really know what a wafflestomper is, but one thing for sure, we were all ready to stomp some waffles at the end of this adventure.

Idaho baby- where dew freezes to ice on the outside of your sleeping bag in August…

I got to share a rope with two incredible people at one of the most incredible alpine crags anywhere this weekend. Ky and I have been trying to line up for weeks so this felt a little overdue- and I’ve been looking forward to sharing a rope with my friend Linda since we first met in May while she was in Missoula for work. We headed south to Stanley, Idaho on Friday afternoon with visions of pink granite on our minds, and forest fire smoke in our eyes. A little road construction meant we didn’t catch a boat across Redfish Lake until Saturday morning, but we didn’t mind the extra time to admire Linda’s sprinter van and pack far too much rock gear for the weekend.

Keep your puffy coat handy…

I had been to the Elephant’s Perch once before and was eager to try some of the more interesting lines- especially with two other solid trad climbers. I wasn’t exactly sure how climbing as a team of 3 would work, but I was certain that I had the right people and we were headed for fun. By the time we finished the burly approach, and given that Linda had driven 1,200 miles to make the trip happen, she was happy to hold down camp while Ky and I wandered out for a few pitches on Saturday afternoon- “scouting” for Sunday.

We set off for the bottom of the “Astro Elephant” route with maximum enthusiasm and minimum intelligence. I hadn’t read the route description nearly well enough- but after 1hr 15min of wandering in the wrong direction, a nice couple with the guidebook set us on the right course, and we boogied to the base of the route. We made short work of getting off route on some of the stoutest 5.10 trad climbing I’ve ever experienced.

That’s Ky, following me off-route and off-width. Classic.

So it’s less than vertical in one direction, but more than vertical in the other…

At least I found a pretty belay?

We had started with the intention to do the first 4 pitches, and then come back to fire the whole route Sunday. It didn’t quite work that way. As this was Ky’s first experience with real multi-pitch alpine climbing, he learned an important lesson “respect old school ratings.” We were thoroughly worked when we got back to camp, and quickly modified our plans, deciding to climb The Mountaineers Route as a team of 3.

I didn’t get many photos of the beginning of the route (cause I was leading it), but I had done the route two years ago so I felt a little more confident about what we were headed into Sunday. I enjoyed handing over the sharp end to Ky and Linda to enjoy the solid splitters and featured faces of fine pink granite that became our playground for the day. We knew we needed to catch the boat back across the lake at 7pm, but we put the focus on having fun and enjoying the route. The mission of having fun at least, was accomplished in full.

Linda styles the “Triple Roofs traverse” on Pitch 4.

Ky finds his groove on the upper slabs of Pitch 5.

We climbed steadily, but swapping leads in a team of 3 demands careful rope management, and Ky was starting to deal with some unexpected intestinal problems, and our pace slowed. I was starting to bite my teeth as Linda worked her way through the pitch 7 crux:

Charging the crux off-width means so much more when you are 5’1″… respect.

We topped out with the sinking realization there was no way we would make the 7pm boat back to the car, nor the 5 hour drive back to Missoula for work in the morning. We finished off some wild boar sausage (so good you should bother to click the link) and enjoyed the colors.

Enough said.

Last looks.

We moved as best we could. Ky continued to battle some serious health issues, Linda and I loaded up with weight, and we boogied down the valley in the dark. After being on the move for 13.5 hours, walking another 6 miles back to the car with our climbing packs was out of the question. We crashed on the beach and wondered what our apologies would sound like in the morning.

Homeward.

A shuttle boat showed up promptly at 8am, and we were in cell phone service by 830am, which was about 8 hours after Ky’s loved ones had called the local sheriff…

Significant others, bosses, clients were quickly phoned from Stanley and things worked out shortly. Ky and I quickly pointed north and Linda continued south- all of us with professional commitments on our minds.

So we spent an extra night out. No one got hurt, went hungry, or was ever in any real danger. We all missed a few hours of work, nothing else. I made some bad judgement calls, and perhaps volunteered our team for more than we could chew. We learned some stuff. That said, I don’t regret any of it, and am so grateful and so psyched to have shared such an beautiful weekend out with such beautiful people.