(7000x1000 at 1292 kb)

Jack, Matt and I got up ass-early on Friday, to catch a 6:20 AM flight to Salt Lake City. Susan, who had just gotten eye surgery the previous day, was kind enough to give us a ride to the airport. Thanks Susan! Six big duffel bags - three racks and five chairs requires a lot of space. Good thing John didn't make it, or we would never have fit it all in the rented Taurus. Not far out of SLC, Jack announced that he was feeling a little under the weather, and turned the keys over to Matt, who had gotten the most sleep the night before. Jack passed out in the back seat, and I in the front. When we awoke, it was 4 hours later, and we were in Moab. Time flies when you're having fun. Or maybe it's "cars fly when Matt's driving." It was still early, so we paused for some beer and food at a local brew pub, then filled up every remaining cranny in the car with food and water before continuing on to Indian Creek. We found the girls' note on the board at the turnoff, and discovered that they couldn't count cattle guards. But that was ok, because we couldn't count either. The heavily laden Taurus handled the river crossings with ease - as we were crossing the first one, I pointed out to Jack the big yellow warning label on the windshield that stated in very ominous tones that the car was not to be taken off paved highways under any circumstances. We found the campsite without much trouble, and joined the growing horde. Vivian, Janelle, Casey. Peter and Ed. Sean. As the evening progressed, more trickled in, either returning from the crags or arriving from afar. Amy and Aaron. Torsten and Steph. James and Isaac (I think). And let's not forget Mitsy, Cody and Paco. Whew! Good thing there aren't any parking enforcement officials at Indian Creek like there are in J-Tree! Jack slept alone in his big 3 man tent, as his cold had gotten significantly worse, and Matt and I didn't want to catch it. So we shared the small 2 man tent instead. Very sensible arrangement. But we couldn't compete with Janelle all by herself in the Trango 4. The next morning dawned cold and clear. And cold. Damn cold. But as soon as the sun rose, it started warming up. Those of us that were climbing that day piled into a Janelle's van and Amy's truck, and made for Cat Wall. Due to a little misunderstanding and possible sandbagging, I chose to warm up on a little number called Johnny Cat (5.11+) - splitter fingers to off fingers. Quite a warm up. After a couple of hangs, and a nice fall (after the crux of course), I was quite warm. As was Torsten when he followed it. We decided to cool down a bit on a couple of TRs that Jack had put up: Kool Kat (5.11) (lieback fingers in a corner) and Kitty Litter (5.10+) (a bit of everything). Matt had headed in the other direction for another attempt on King Kat. We wanted to have a try at 9 Lives (5.12-), but it was taken by a large, slow, party when we got there, so we tried an unnamed 5.10 that Janelle and Vivian had been working on. I then had a go at Catnap (5.10+) with Steph, which was burly rather than technical, and really worked me at the top. Meanwhile, 9 Lives had finally cleared, and Vivian and Jack had a go at it. For someone who was complaining of feeling like crap, and having a nasty cold, Jack sure can climb!

(600x800 at 144 kb)	(600x800 at 128 kb)
Jack and Torsten on Kitty Litter, and Charles and Steph on Catnap

By then it was dark, and as we returned to the parking area by the light of LEDs, we found the rest of the gang clustered around, over, and under Janelle's van. It turned out that Sean had left early, and borrowed Janelle's key to get a rope out of the van, and was supposed to leave the key under the rear bumper. Of course, when they got there, no key was to be found. We spent about 45 minutes all together looking, but didn't find even a hint of it. So we piled all the gear into Amy's truck, put as many people as we could in the front and rear seats, and raced back to the campsite to dump the gear and return while the rest of the crew started to walk back. It didn't help that most people had left their warm clothes in Janelle's van.... Luckily, Ed and Peter had collected a large supply of wood (and the dessicated leg of a dead cow, but we'll get back to that later), so a roaring fire was soon going. Despite the nasty thoughts we were all having of Sean, the atmosphere soon turned festive, and much alcohol was had by all. Not to mention some of Vivian's special brownies. Silly fire tricks were performed - both my hat and my jacket now have holes in them, but this time Casey avoided getting her hair caught on fire. On Sunday, those who were climbing headed to The Fin, while Janelle, Viv, Casey and Peter drove to Moab to try to deal with the van. Torsten and I warmed up on Walkin' Talkin' Bob (5.10-), while Jack, who was feeling really weak, put up The Felcher (5.11-) and Aaron did Nagasaki (5.10+). After the warmup, I had a go at The Felcher, which required an unpleasant number of green camalots. Well, at least they were the small green camalots, and not the #5s, 'cause that would have been real unpleasant. Aaron and Amy took off, as they had a long drive back to Boulder, and soon thereafter so did Torsten and Steph. We heard some honking from the parking lot, and lo and behold, there was Janelle and the van! It turned out that Sean had left the keys hidden inside the front bumper, and when Janelle had returned with a tow-truck, and they had lifted the rear end, she heard the keys rattle and discovered them. Woo hoo! We TRed Nagasaki, which was long and loads of fun - some liebacking, chimneying, and fun hands though a bulge, then decided to have a go at Double Trouble (5.11-). We looked at the crack (double system, left facing corner), and it seemed a bit shorter than the guide indicated. Jack led off first, and did a bang up job. Red alien to green camalot liebacks, finishing off with hands. Good thing there's a stance half way up! Matt and I also led it, then TRed it again for good measure. After we pulled the rope, and packed up, we realized that someone who shall remain nameless (he's about 5.6, asian, and was sick a lot), directed us to the wrong climb. We had done "the best unnamed 5.11 crack in Indian Creek" instead.

(600x800 at 104 kb)	(600x800 at 124 kb)
Jack and Matt on an unnamed 5.11

The weather the next morning did not bode well. It was spitting a bit during breakfast, so instead of trying to climb right away, we hiked up one of the canyons to look at some Anasazi ruins. Very cool. Either they were a really short people, or they enjoyed living in small, confined quarters. In the afternoon Peter, Ed, Vivian, Janell, Casey, Matt and I headed to Supercrack Buttress. Jack was feeling even sicker, if that was at all possible, and decided to save himself for the last day. Casey and I warmed up on Supercrack - the crux is the boulder move around the bulge, 10 ft off the deck. Once you get into the splitter, it's pure bliss. Next time, my gear list will be 1 yellow alien, 2 #2 camalots, 1 #3 camalot. Yum! We then did some laps on Incredible Hand Crack. Peter says that it used to slightly smaller - all those hands jamming into it have made it wider over the years. Matt had gone up Coyne Crack, and set up a TR on it which was in heavy use, so I had a run at that too. Wow - hard! Painful fingers to off-fingers to really tight hands, with the right side of the crack offset by about an inch, so that thumbs down jams with the right hand are impractical. You really don't want to tape up your hands for this one, but some strategic tape on index fingers may help. Casey had led Gorilla Crack, a very fun long hand crack with a couple of offwidth moves thrown in for fun, which I also TRed, and then had a go at the lieback corner to its left. By then it was dark, so we all piled into Janelle's van, with Mitsy on the dashboard, and headed back to camp. It started raining as we were driving, and continued to do so intermittently for the rest of the evening. That night, as we slept, it really opened up, with much thunder and lightning.

(800x600 at 176 kb)	(600x800 at 176 kb)
Anasazi cliff dwellings

There were pools of standing water all over the place next morning, testifying to the amount of rain that had deluged us during the night. As we were debating if conditions were climbable, we heard and saw a huge rockfall off the cliffs to the south. At that point we decided no climbing today! So we packed everything up, and drove off to Moab. Along the way we moved up our return flight to that evening, and after a brief stop at the climbing shop, we continued on to Salt Lake. Poor Jack - he only got a couple of days of climbing in, and he wasn't in top form for them either. But we'll be back - we've had a taste, and it's horribly addictive. Spring break anyone?

(3884x1000 at 796 kb)