Bishop - March2013

Tehachapi at moonrise

My family and I went to Bishop for four days over Spring Break, 2013. (YOLO) I'll try to keep this from sounding too "trip report-y," but suffice to say, much good climbing was to be had. We drove south through Tehachapi, and rolled into Bishop under a beautiful skyscape around eleven at night. We were up six hours later to observe the raw beauty of the Buttermilks. Buttermilk Country itself is steeped in lore and history. Hundreds of years ago, the Paiutes and Shoshones called this land sacred, and upon seeing it, both by moonlight and the new sun of the morning, it's easy to see why. There's a certain fragile nobility to it, a nobility that allows no admission of weakness, but upon closer inspection, a frighteningly delicate balance is found. The beauty of this country was vast enough that even four days later, when we pulled out of Bishop, I hadn't even come close to comprehending the scope of it. Words simply won't do it justice.

Obligatory Mt. Tom and Buttermilk Road shot

Day 1: Our first order of business was to hit some of the easier classics of the area. After warming up on the Green Wall boulder, we headed over to the Hunk. It was my first climb that could even be thrown in the running for "highball" status, and for me, it was a doozy. I had a pretty acute mental struggle fifteen feet off the deck when I realized two things: 1) I had no idea what the **** I was doing, and 2) I only had one small, soft pad. Topping it out was the sweetest tasting thing I'd had in a long while.

I won't go into details about the 20 minute fail-fest in which I couldn't find my way down.

After a lunch consisting of exactly one (1) orange and a few swigs of tepid water, we were off to try High Plains Drifter and The Birthing Experience. I'll tell you right now, the Birthing Experience's reputation for being unflashable is well-deserved. After completing it, I had markedly more respect for my newborn self. High Plains Drifter was, hands down, the most aesthetically appealing problem I'd ever tried. (keyword: tried) After failing to commit to the fabled Drifter move, I put the problem on a shelf. Hopefully the send will come this July, when a few friends and I are heading out there to chase shadows for a week or so.

Eyeing the Drifter move. More than a little sleep has been lost on this personal failure.

After heading back to The Trees Motel (cozy rooms, couldn't really say much for the room service though) to catch a few hours of much-needed sleep, day two ended up being fascinating in a different way. We drove out of town, past the Happies (where, ironically, a couple of hammered broulderers tried to pick a fight with a beleaguered hiker) to a petroglyph site. What was fascinating was seeing the creative parallels between the Paiute-Shoshone tribes and the process of sending a boulder problem. What was heartbreaking was seeing the desecration left by tourists and other people. It's always disturbed me to see the primal urge of people to leave their mark on their surroundings. For some people, an Earthly homeostasis doesn't exist. I don't pity those people, but it saddens me to think that they aren't experiencing, at present, a sort of intra/extra-cooperation between body, mind, and environment. To me, it's important to realize that the machinations of the mind are dependent upon the environment, and if we corrupt that environment, we also corrupt those machinations. Some call it hippie-cyclical-holistic bullshit. I call it another way to try and live compassionately: another way to grow, and to exist.

The rest of the trip was filled with good times and better weather. I managed to fire off the Iron Man traverse on my third go, and connected the opening four moves of Checkerboard. During the drive back, a pretty vicious storm built over the Sierra Crest, and made for a phenomenal sight that probably would have made Muir tremble in anticipation of nature's awesome capabilities. It'll truly be a pleasure to get back to that special place again.