In Order from Video: Ian Dory, Angie Payne, Alex Johnson, Nadya Vorotnikov, Courtney Sanders, Carlo Traversi, Rod D’Anastasio, Andrew Kim, Kasia Pietras, Andy Lamb, Katie Lamb, Daniel Woods, Shane Messer, Francesca Metcalf, Amelia Metcalf, Grady Bagwell, Sebastian Lesure, Natasha Barnes, Nick Hall, and Nick Picarella.

All of us at MetroRock are PSYCHED for FEB. 4th! The Citizen’s comp is going to be baller–and the Finals round–well, come on, look at the lineup! See you in there!

The RED ONE is a $25,000 digital camera that has inarguably started a revolution in digital cinema–a machine noted as one of the most significant American inventions of the 21st century. That’s why my title is funny.

Consequently, I must apologize for the send footage; it’s not exactly up to LT11 production value standards, but if Lukas Cassick wasn’t such a stud on his iPhone (THANKS), these moments–pretty hysterical looking back–would quickly fade away like another silver string of forgotten memories in Dumbledore’s Pensieve.

Anyway, after four days of work this season and a few other random “touch-and-feels” last year, I climbed Roses and Blue Jays out in Great Barrington, MA, over the weekend–a boulder problem that I pretty much never thought I would do. I realize that this kind of send for the typical full-time, pro-elite-extra-alluminum-alloyed-finger-tinkers is no big deal; yet another pop-corn cornel in the old butter bucket.

But for me, as a once or twice a month weekend warrior, this boulder problem is one to be remembered. I wanted it bad. I needed it–even more than Ondra needs a Big Mac. SO. MUCH. FUN. I ended up falling on the top-out four times in one hour before sending. It stung real deep like. Hence, the frustrations verbalized in this video. Thanks STONELICK for the brand new pads–a massive BOOM ROYALE and convenient FLIP.

Neil Mushaweh. You’re the best. LATAH.

What can I say? The conditions in New England right now are absolutely prime. Each time we can escape work to sneak outside for a day or two here and there–well–it’s a Goddamn blessing. My buddy Rob drove all the way up from New Jersey just for this boulder after working it out for a day one week prior. This guy never fails to impress me with his work-ethic, ability to send under pressure, and overall great attitude. Nice one!

Oh, and I can’t wait to get back on this thing. SO CLOSE.

And Yosemite in 3 days?! Yes please.

Last Friday, around 7:00am, I peeked out through the oddly colored, dusty curtains of our rustic cottage to see what looked like a scene from Steven King’s The Mist: a milky white, heavy-set mist and dark, rolling clouds suffocating the mountains and blotching out the horizon. Not good.

Despite less-than-ideal bouldering conditions, we headed up to the Fortress to try our project because we had nothing better to do—aside from eating chocolate cake and drinking Ginger Beer all day (my favorite South African soda). The parking lot, usually packed to the absolute brim with small, shit-box rental cars just like our own, was completely empty—not a soul in all of the Rocklands came out that morning. We laughed to ourselves while hiking up as if to bring some brevity to a situation that already seemed unmistakably flawed.

After warming up like usual in the Duck Cave, we headed over to The Vice (V13) to start playing; a boulder problem known as one of the most classic test pieces around—one of those climbs that keeps you up at night as it permeates through the very fabric of your soul. It was our 4th day of projecting on it. I had no expectations: ‘Not a thread of hope in all of Hell would get me up this thing today’ I thought.

The rain began to pick up as the clouds sifted eerily through the notch. Every boulder was soaking wet—dripping from the rain that slowly, but inevitably drenched every nook and cranny. The only thing that remained dry was the cave we were huddled in. Fortunately, that’s where The Vice is located. But since the condensation from the clouds (we were literally inside of them due to our altitude) was so thick and dense, every hold began to soak up moisture. I looked at the skin on my palms to get a read on the air quality. Within seconds, I could see hundreds of little dots blotting out the chalk—water droplets from the air making a visual imprint on my skin. The air was wet. Consequently, our pads were drenched within minutes.

Climbing was a bitch because as soon as you stepped on the pads, your shoes would get wet and subsequently the foot holds. After falling on moves that should have been easy (many of the crucial smears were wet), I decided that starting from the bottom of the problem would be the easiest solution. You could walk over to the start, take your boots off, quickly put on your climbing shoes (after generously chalking up the rubber tips to soak up the dew), and climb before your shoes and hands got too wet.

On my first try from the start, I fell at the last move utterly surprised; a grotesque understatement for the shock that enveloped my brain and body.

The rain was picking up as the clouds grew thicker. It was like climbing with a massive clock hanging over head. If you listened hard enough you might have heard the razor-sharp clinking of time echoing in the distance—Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock. The magic window of opportunity was quickly vanishing as the weather deteriorated, so I pulled on from the start once more. My mind was blank, like a chalk-board that had just been erased. There was no thought of ‘maybe I’ll do it, maybe I won’t—there was just climbing. Brian later told me that he looked at Rob right before I pulled on and gave him a quick, furtive smirk as if to say, ‘Look at this crazy numb-nut climbing in the rain.’

While I climbed, Brian (thank you so much by the way) tapped every hold on the arête with chalk a few seconds before I grabbed them to soak up some of the dankness aggressively invading our cave. Within a minute I was holding the dripping victory jug—fully dumb-founded. I blacked out for the majority of the boulder and woke up at the finish beside myself. The guys told me later that I turned around with a look on my face like I had just seen a ghost and muttered, “I can’t believe this is happening right now,” before climbing the last 30-feet of slab in the rain.

I’ll always remember that rainy day up at the Fortress with my good friends as one of the best climbing hours of my life.

A wise man once said, “If all you have to worry about is waking up in the morning, cooking breakfast, and going climbing—then you’ve got nothing to worry about at all.” After spending a good chunk of time here in the Rocklands; living, eating, and breathing climbing, I couldn’t agree more.

Since this is my first real extended bouldering trip, a full on two month commitment, there is a certain novelty to everything. It feels amazing to wake up in the morning, fry some eggs, pack a lunch (usually an apple and banana or an avocado with tuna and chips), and head out the door to play for the entire day without the slightest hint of obligation or lingering consequence. There’s no time line or schedule. In fact, I hardly ever know what day it is. There’s no need for a watch because wherever the sun hangs in the sky is how much time you have left in the day. We eat when we want. Climb when we want. And sleep when we want. To me, someone who works a full-time job at home and waits for the weekend to climb outside, this is absolute paradise.

Every day I become infatuated with yet another boulder problem and just when I think I’ve found the best looking line I’ve ever seen, something else pops up around the corner. Since the amount of world-class bouldering here is seemingly infinite, our strategy over the first few weeks has been to run around to as many areas as possible; not spending much more than a day at any one location. This way we can sample many climbs before deciding what projects deserve the most time and effort. It’s like being a 6-year-old in a massive toy store and wanting to buy everything all at once, but since you don’t have enough time or money (read: skin) to purchase everything, you get your hands on as much as you can before you take the plunge and go for the gold.

Here are my most notable sends so far:

Black Shadow (V12)

Gliding Through Waves with Dolphins (V11)

Golden Virginia (V11)

Witness the Sickness (V11)

Royksopp (V11)

Caroline (V10)

Pinotage (V10)

Hole in One (V10)

Paula Abdul (V10)

Aside from the climbing and obvious magic that this place possesses, the best part of the trip so far has been the crew. I’ve never climbed with a more talented, fun, and easy-going group of people: Brian Antheunisse (a ferocious power house with fathomless depths of climbing knowledge), Scott Cory (the alleged Oakland gangster who is just as quick to laugh as he is to send), Rob D’ Anastasio (a guy whose got more character and passion for life than a dude from Jack Karouc’s On the Road), and Rob Guinn (he’s hysterical; a rare, but very amicable breed of human being who is about as easy to read as brail). Fortunately, Joe Kinder and Colette McInerney just rolled in last week, which means a promising addition to the crew since they are a blast to hang out with. I love climbing with those two. They are some of the positive, psyched, and upbeat human beings on the planet. It is impossible to NOT have fun while climbing when they’re around. And you’d be surprised how much easier it is to make progress when the mood is light-hearted; full of crazy talk and nonsense. It helps a ton!

Recently, our running around has subsided. Less volume and more singular goals–it’s time to start focusing on projects. I like it like that anyway. Right now it’s The Vice (V13)–we all (Joe, Rob, Brian, and myself) have all got it in two overlapping pieces as of yesterday after two days of effort. This is the best boulder I have ever climbed on hands down and will be the hardest if I have any luck and do it. Beautiful. Compression and biceps. And it stays on you until the very last move. The other one on the top of my list right now is Moisty Mazy (V13)–also one of the best boulder problems I have ever climbed on. The movement is like none other on holds that are all exactly the same; straight down sloper-pinches with tiny thumb catches and toe hooks on what feels like a 45 degree wall. Max? Earth to Max? Ya, this one has your name written all over it Mr. San Fran. Must complete!

Lots of video and pics to edit when I get home. The internet here is too slow for that here, so it’ll have to wait–mega video/photo blog in September!

Side note: Sometimes it’s strange–this whole rock climbing thing. You spend a lot of time these trips doing nothing; either hanging out in a cabin or tent while it pours, hiking around aimlessly, sitting on a rock, walking for no reason, resting, or just doing nothing at all. That’s when you get to thinking–thinking A LOT. Sometimes I don’t know why I go through all this trouble just to climb rocks (travel across the planet, leave friends and family, my job, sleeping in the dirt, this and that), but then when I’m actually climbing it all makes perfect sense. I wouldn’t change a damn thing. I guess it’s only natural for motivation to ebb and flow and right now it’s certainly flowing.

Mike Helt: Chief Setter

SCS Nationals 2011: Atlanta, GA

First and foremost, congratulations to all the competitors and coaches at Nationals this year. You rocked our socks off. Without you and everyone else involved in USA Climbing, we wouldn’t have a comp. Thank you for being super strong and climbing like professionals.

­Setting for the past seven days on the 2011 SCS National Crew has redefined my understanding of what it means to be a national level­ route setter: an exceptional climber devoid of an overwhelming ego that is able to quickly set creative, aesthetic, and functional routes while working effectively and efficiently with others. It’s about working hard. Listening. Removing your feelings and natural inclination to be possessive of your work. Being fast. Respectful. Eating shrimp and chocolate milk on the sidewalk outside of Kroger’s at 2:30am. Wrestling to the death in and outside of the pool. Not smashing the lull into any walls. Being a team player and having fun.

Outside of these essential qualities, I learned that you should be able to comfortably work an average of 14 to 18-hour days for close to a week while battling the inevitable onset of fatigue-induced mental fog. It rolls in during the late hours of your the third day while swaying 60-feet off the deck in a 15,000 pound lull. Side note: Being in a lull for your first time high off the ground is creepy. I was looking for Kyle to give me confidence one night and his response was, “Yup, these booms just work on hydraulics; so they could let go and crash at any time. Just hold onto the cage if we go down.” Thanks pal.

Despite the apparent challenges of a heavy work load and all the stresses and anxieties that are naturally associated with route setting responsibility and personal accountability, I can say without a doubt that this event has been the most rewarding roped competition I’ve ever had the opportunity to set for so far. Thanks to Mike Helt and the rest of his crew, I’ve learned more in a week than I have in the past year about setting for youth rope climbing events.

The Team:

Assistants:
Remi Samyn
Mark Mercer
Kyle McCabe
Big Rig
Luke Bertelsen
Scott Leeper

Apprentices:
Ian MacIntosh
Ryan Sewell
Bret Johnston

Interns:
Dave Wetmore
Ross Halverson a.k.a “Stone Cold Steve Ross-tin”
Chris LaCrasto

Ok. Let’s get into the nitty-gritty. I’ve broken up my random thoughts throughout the week in sub-categories to make for easier reading. Many of you may already know this stuff, but I didn’t, so go suck on a loli-pop.

Percentages: Every route is set with a percentage in mind. The pragmatic question is: How many climbers do you want to proceed from one day to the next? For the most part, qualifiers this year were far too easy. On average, there was an 85-95% send rate. It turns out that most competitors, as well as spectators, don’t appreciate this. In fact, some of them take it as an insult. Their logic is that they’ve come all this way to Nationals to be tested, not given an ego-boosting jug haul. Perhaps qualifiers next year will only see a 40% success rate. What then butter cup? This percentage evolution will call for much more aggressive competition rounds, separating the strong from the weak much quicker.

Grades: When setting routes for each category, a grade is a faint guideline to set with. Depending on the category and terrain–and how the two interact with one another–the grade is in a constant state of flux, only useful to the genesis of the route. All tweaks and cruxes are specifically designed for the climbers within the category, so most of the time finite grades become obsolete.

Off-Ramp Crux: I had never heard this term,”Off-Ramp Crux,” until Mike Helt busted it out when analyzing my Female B Semi-Final. I had a gaston move after the roof that dropped around 5 girls in the same exact spot. This is not good. A five move off-ramp crux is preferred over a one move off-ramp crux since the whole point of the route is to create multiple fall points for an increased range of separation. We eventually tweaked this shoulder move by flattening out the gaston and adding a drive foot so that the next group of Female A girls had a better shot at advancing a bit further. I think I’m going to start using this term as much as possible, even when it makes no sense, to increase my coolness. Like, “Hey man, don’t off-ramp crux it tonight on your date,” or “Dude, that gaster-cling totally off-ramp cruxed me.”

Gaston: Turns out this word used to describe a shoulder move is not used in France at all. For real? They say épaule (a – pull), which means shoulder. Hm. Rem-dog, Mr. Frenchy Pants, enlightened us on this one.

American Competition Theory versus European Competition Theory (Remi Samyn, the French exchange setter and all around bad-ass, had a lot of insight to offer here):

Route Construction: In America, routes are extremely progressive. You can think of a route here like a wave in the ocean. It slowly gains momentum and intensity before reaching its apex and crashing. In the same way, we set routes to slowly intensify before the final punch that theoretically isolates the top one or two climbers. In Europe, the fluff-ah-nutter and jelly is cut out. Routes start off hard and stay hard. Which is better? Depending on the competitor field, terrain, and age category, there may not necessarily be a black and white answer.

Technique:  Remi noticed that our youth competitors climb very square with a quick pace and rhythm in the beginning of routes, using heel-hooks often, but straying away from drop-knees and twisting. He also noticed that American climbers tend to use too much power in certain moves when they could relax more. For example, he noticed some climbers at Nationals were crimping hard when they could have been holding on with a three-fingered open hand. Big woop. In Europe, competitors generally climb with more feeling and a feathered touch, not using 100% of their power unless absolutely necessary. Technique is no substitute for power Remi. But since he absolutely crushed all of us forerunning, maybe we should listen up.

Coaching Style: In America, if a climber falls, coaches are generally very supportive (maybe when they shouldn’t be); saying things like “Good job” or “Nice Try,” when really they just made a number of fatal mistakes and climbed poorly because of it. In France, coaches are much harsher. If you fall, the coach is not happy and will tell you exactly what you did wrong straight away. Remi said he has unintentionally made his kids cry in the past for their mistakes, but this is not out of the ordinary in Europe. I would like to be much more strict as a coach, but many of the kids on the team are often just there for fun. What? Climbing for fun? Recreational climbing represents a different cultural perspective because in Europe I feel like climbing is generally treated more as a professional endeavor as opposed to a club sport.

French Federation vs. USA Climbing: There are 80,000 members under the French Climbing Federation; 5,000 of which are competitors. The climbing federation has 40 people that work under salary. While the French Federation has seven sanctioned sports within it, 80% of its sanctions are for climbing.  Basically, all climbers pay a club fee to use whatever gym they choose and that fee goes to the Federation. As far as I understand from my conversation with Remi, it seems like Europe has established a kind of sport climbing communism within the Federation. While in America, each gym is a private business making its own money (capitalism), which is beneficial to the individual, but not for the whole sport, as so aptly demonstrated by the extremely advanced progression of climbing in France and other European countries. Hence, the 12 continental championships in Europe per year for both sport and bouldering, while we have only one national event per year for each category. We’re catching up though. Right?

Overall, I think the event finished pretty smoothly, with the exception of a few hiccups. There were a few ties to worry about from Semi-Finals, but they were nicely broken in Finals. Finals were a bit stiff, with only a few tops between all the categories, which means they could have been a touch easier. And since the qualies were intentionally set easier than normal, we won’t count an overwhelming amount of tops as a minus.

After it’s all said and done, what I will remember most is the shenanigans: Battle Rouge and Blood Ball. Unfortunately, for the sake of my job, I can’t describe these events in detail, but I can say that I am thankful Bret survived Battle Rouge and that Team 20′s took the championship round in Blood Ball. Until next year!

Thanks for an awesome week guys.

(Oh, and all the photos were taken by the one and only Bret Johnston. Yah buddy.)

The Event:

As over 3,000 spectators, most of which had no experience or knowledge of climbing, screamed their lungs out in cheer for each competitor as they powered their way to top of Vertical Solutions custom climbing walls situated in a shaded corner of Central Park’s Sheep Meadows, Jason Danforth said something over the microphone that I will never forget: “People have been climbing for hundreds of years. This–right now–is what climbing looks like in 2011.” And with that one sentence, the entire breadth of the day was summarized in more ways than one. Elite level climbing had been presented to the general public smack-dab in the middle of one of the most fast-paced steel jungle’s on the planet–New York City–and they were psyched about it.

In fact, the event made such an impact on Manhattan’s Saturday afternoon, that the New York Times gave the competition its own section header in the paper’s Sunday Edition (the largest metro and most acclaimed Pulitzer price winning paper in America) and a slideshow on its website (the most popular news website in the United States).

I think that Neil Armstrong’s quote in reference to landing on the Moon, “That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind,” roughly encapsulates this past weekend’s genesis of a new competition era.  NE2C and the rest of us are certainly not working towards traveling into outer-space, but the challenges we face in making climbing popular enough to be broadcasted on major network  television as if it were the coveted Super Bowl are equally daunting.

Great job competitors. And Vasya Vorotnikov, once again, showed us exactly how large and in charge his cajones are.

Full Results

Photo Credit: Tim Kemple (www.kemplemedia.com)

Behind The Scenes:

Head Setter Chris Danielson (a freakish mastermind whose complicated depth of knowledge within movement is retardedly fathomless) and his right hand man Jeremy Hardin (a physical specimen/robo-man with a massive personality and equally large breadth of ability) blew me away. I went into the event knowing I was a decent setter that could work hard and get the job done, but after watching these guys perform, my list of things to improve on pretty much doubled; of which I am thankful for.

Now, I could go through the entire setting process and all that; this problem did this, this round did this, and this dingle did that dingle, but I’m too lazy right now to re-hash the entire comp and we already did all that in person. So, let’s get serious. As a team we faced many challenges. Here’s a list:

1) Ladder Challenge: Chris Won (He matched the ninth rung as substantiated below.)

2) Endurance Pool Challenge: Jeremy Hardin Won (I literally threw up my lunch for 10 minutes after the race–ride or die.)

3) Lazy Tag: Jeremy Hardin Won (Jeremy is so intense that if his lazer beam wasn’t working properly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he just strangled us instead to win. Nice job Shooter.)

4) Sit to Hand Stand: Dave Won (OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG!)

5) Air Hockey: Chris Won (Turns out Chris has pretty ridiculous hand-eye coordination with a puck. The liters of Diet Pepsi he drinks everyday may be responsible for the performance enhancement of his game.)

6) Kiddy Tube Challege: Jeremy Won (We went into the kid section of an arcade zone and proceeded to race each other up one of the tubular slides. Jeremy got 7.1 seconds. Impressive. We were all pretty close though I think.)

And favorite quotes:

“AHHHHHHH FICK!” – Jonas Buamann said this every time he fell at the World Cup in Vail, which was like twice. So, now we say it.

“What happened?” – A cashier’s response to Chris when asking for a receipt at Pop’s Deli.

“Put your big boy pants on.”- Jeremy said this. It put me in a pouty mood. Love you Hardin.

“The clydesdale.”- In reference to someone.

A few last lines. As usual, the setting team was comprised of quite the eclectic mix of human beings.

Setting Crew: Jeremy Hardin, Jeremy Bini, Max Zolotukhin, and Me (And I cannot thank Kyle McCabe and Kynan Wagner enough for the time they put in at Central Park).

MVP Forerunner: Sarah Shaw (You are an invaluable monster crusher to this the whole shabang.)

Studs: Kary Williams and Paul Jung (Thanks for helping at the Cliffs!)

[Show as slideshow]

World Cup competition climbing, in all of its complexities and infinite minutiae, seems as comprehensible and limitless as our perpetually expanding universe.  At this elite level, the amount of skill and power it takes to survive each round is simply frightening. Consequently, the amount of skill and precision it takes for route setters to separate these plastic-munching robots is equally daunting. As I watched Finals, in which the top 6 boulderers in the world (male and female) battled for a win, I barely had enough coordination in my body to clap my hands together due to the fact that I was overwhelmed with admiration [Read: I was actually just double-fisting Stella Artois] and respect for their abilities not only as fierce, stone-cold competitors, but also for their superior strength as climbers. Oh, and Ana Stohr is a total babe. What’s up Kilian?

In the midst of a 5,000 person spectator field–a scattered sea of outdoor enthusiasts intermittently erupting with infectious cheer–I have never experienced a more exciting Finals round. Congratulations to all the competitors and to my good friends Mike Helt, Jeremy Hardin, Chris Danielson, Kynan Wagnor, and all the other setters and builders involved. What a fantabulous weekend. Hooray.

For me, despite hanging out in isolation for 5 hours inside of the Vail Athletic Center with some of the best comp gangsters in the world and basically freaking out with nerves as a result, this World Cup went slightly better than Canmore. I finished 28th out of a stacked 47 male athlete line-up; with two flash tops and the rest flash to bonus in Qualies. I made a few mistakes here and there, but not proceeding to the next round just came down to not being good enough. I feel like in order to truly join the upper echelon of elite competition boulderers, you need to be a full-time competitor–like literally paid to compete and climb. Maybe someday I’ll drop everything and fully go for it–just travel, set, climb, and compete. But not yet!

People have recently asked me, “Hey, do you think you’ll keep doing the World Cups?” As if to say, “Hey, you keep getting annihilated, are you going to keep trying?” Please, I’ll stop when Santa Claus quits his job. If climbing was all about riding easy waves of success and eating heavenly cheese-sticks of joy, I would have quit a long time ago because the success rate in this business when you’re pushing your limits is close to zero.

And the Everest-like altitude absolutely effected my stamina as well; it was totally just the altitude. I probably could have won if the comp was at sea level. Still an amazing experience.

Anywho…on to Manhattan, June 19-27, to set the EMS Pro with some awesome people!

Full Results: http://www.ifsc-climbing.org/result

Last weekend marked the initiation of my first World Cup experience. And my-oh-my, it sure was an eye-opening event in more ways than one. I have never seen so many extremely talented and beastly competitors warming-up their weapons in one isolation. It’s a bit intimidating to look around and see hordes of freak-bots from all different nations (Japan, Korea, Slovenia, Australia, Netherlands, China, France, Germany, and Austria)–especially when a few of these Japanese ninja warriors stroll up to your difficult warm-ups and easily campus them without a bat of the eye. Ya, that happened. I quickly left the cave and sat back down on a couch in the corner where I questioned my decision on whether or not I should have eaten that quart of “Half Baked” Ben&Jerry’s the week before.

When it came time to perform, I more or less got owned by the boulders. There were five qualifier problems. I topped the first one on my 4th try and reached bonus on the final three. One more bonus hold and a few less falls would have landed me in Semis with Top 20, but I had no such luck. While the problems were powerful and core intensive, they were also equally technical and thought-provoking; the opposite of the gymnastic, dynamic American style that I have grown accustomed to and quite fond of. In either case, I’m psyched to learn this new style and improve on it.

Qualifier #3: Volume Death Trap.

To be a contender at this style of competition, you must be an exceptionally versatile competitor; a cold blooded, light-speed deciphering, steel fingered, V10 flashing assassin. There is no room for mistakes. The top 10 guys in the Qualification round had 2 tops and 3 bonus holds with about 5 falls TOTAL. This means if they fell once, they were almost certainly guaranteed to make bonus or top on the next try. This point is KEY. Other than being super strong and fit (which I am NOT compared to these monsters), efficiency of tries, whether achieving bonus or top, is one of the most important factors in World Cup competition strategy.

All said and done, it was a humbling experience. I have so much respect for the guys and girls that have elevated their game enough to perform at such a high level within this circuit. With Vail approaching fast this weekend, I hope to attain the same or…something. PSYCHED to see my friends!

Qualifer #5: Deep in Thought

Welp. It’s official. This week has been fantastic. I finally sent my project after 10 days of battling, 1,879 miles of driving from Boston to Connecticut after work, $3,400,904 of worth of gas, and 17.5 burritos from El Sombrero. The day it finally went, I drove 100 miles per hour down to the boulder after work, hiked out 4 pads, warmed up on a traverse, and sent first go of the day. I was all alone. Or at least I thought I was. Dan Bates, the Bradley Sheriff, came ambling around the corner soon after he heard my victory cries. With a bunch of help from the one and only, Jon Glassberg, my friend, fellow strongling, cuddle bunny, and expert life partner, I was able to put together a video to remember.  Hope you enjoy.

On top of this boulder completion, I was able to make Finals at the HEART OF VSTEEL. A brilliant comp set by Max Zolotukhin, Steven Jeffrey, Jon Glassberg, and Gavin Heverly. Walking away with a second place finish and $400 felt like ice cream melting in my mouth on a hot summer’s day. It felt delicious. Nice job to all competitors! Vasya, as always, is a true inspiration. And a big thank you to the spectators! Look out for the plethora of video coverage that will most undoubtedly ensue.

Aside: I plan on writing a comp report in full detail. And also some more thoughts on this whole bouldering/competition experience. Chyeahuh.