The pilgrimage begins...

It is time to make my pilgrimage to the mecca of all things rock climbing...Yosemite. With my new Misty Mountain Cadillac Harness (made in the good land of North Carolina) and my revamped chalk bag, I am ready for the massive walls of gorgeous granite. Red Rocks is also on the agenda. Starting tomorrow, the next couple of weeks will be packed with as much climbing as my body can handle. Yahoo!

If you've known me over the last few years, the chalk bag may look familiar. My lovely Guatemalan purse was falling apart, yet I was not ready to part with it. I took the part still in good shape and turned it into my chalk bag. It's not the best sewing job in the world, but it is certianly my best!

From the top of a climb in Little Cottonwood Canyon around Salt Lake City

Field and Research

My last two shifts in the field were startlingly different. The prior shift in the field (August 2-9), I spent with an adult “boys” group. After so much time with adolescent girls I was looking forward to this change of pace. It turned out to be an incredibly challenging week. Not all, but just enough of these guys were exasperating, disrespectful, and ridiculous. They claimed that I reminded them of their mothers, and looking at the relationships they had with their moms, this was not a desirable position.

This past shift I spent the week with adolescent girls. Though this week had its own set of unique challenges such as poopie and urine filled sleeping bags, emotional volcanoes, and bees, it turned out to be a fun and fulfilling week. I saw girls begin to mourn the loss of parents and things taken from them, discover themselves, and have sober fun. It is a beautiful experience to grow and learn with such brave people tackling scary monsters .... even on the more challenging weeks ;)

Immediately upon coming out of the field, I switched from field instructor to researcher. We finished up the final touches on a presentation and headed up to Provo to present some of our research at a regional conference for therapeutic programs. It was super fun, and I felt privileged and fortunate to have this opportunity. Especially to do so with Matt, who is my boss and is held in high regard in the field of wilderness therapy.

Colorado

I spent the last five days in Colorado climbing and visiting friends. The cooler temps and warm hospitality was much appreciated.

Lacey and I connected over our love for Spanish at Auburn University. She is one of those "kindred spirits" in my life. I had the great pleasure of being her parents house guest for two weeks in Costa Rica. They went on to be my "Gringa" family for the six months that I was there, and they have remained special to my heart since.

Ian showed Anthony and I around Clear Creek Canyon. Ian and Camille (Ian's wife) are dear friends from Eagle Lake Camp, where we spent two summers together. They are the kind of friends that you can always call and connect with, no matter how much time has past.

This is on top of the second pitch of the Bastille Crack in Eldorado Canyon. We waited on this ledge for nearly 2 hours!! Believe it or not, there actually are folks that climb slower than me!

The following pictures are a tribute to Anthony's stud-like lead on the 2nd pitch of Werk's Up at Eldo. My facial expressions say my thoughts on the climb. I led the first pitch, which nearly scared the life out of me, and then I could barely squirm up the second pitch on top rope.

Day two at Eldo, we did Yellow Spur, a 6-7 pitch 5.10. It was hard and beautiful and I didn’t lead a single pitch! Thanks Anth!

We climbed to the top of this!!

Me and My Momma

Last week mom came out to visit. We had a ton of fun going to see Garth, driving through Red Rocks, biking in Zion, and cooking a big southern dinner for my amigos in St. George. She and dad have always tailored their travels around me. I am grateful for it, and I think I have given them some great spots to visit! Thanks for coming out mom!

Fancy drinks before the big show

We were sitting in the last row, until about 45 seconds before it started. Then, an usher came up and led us down to the very front and center row. Garth Brooks was literally an arms reach away. The show was like story time with Garth, with just him and his guitar on stage. I LOVED it, and mom shook his hand at the end.

I got to show mom my favorite of all favorite climbing areas driving through Red Rocks Canyon outside of Las Vegas.

And then we did a little cragging at the local "outdoor gym" (aka Chuckwala).

Mom and I rode bikes in Zion. It is the best way to see the canyon. Especially since you can ride the shuttle up the canyon and then just cruise on back down on your bike.

Another anniversary

One year ago, right about this time, my Dad’s spirit left this world. I was there. I put my ear on his chest and listened to his last heart beats. A few hours before he left I sang “Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing” to him. I still feel his presence when I hear this song.

I have realized that the connection Dad and I had during his sickness beautifully demonstrates the unique and special relationship we had all of my life. I always knew without a doubt that he loved and adored me, just as my mom and brother knew as well. It was far more than words that gave us this confidence, rather it was the life and relationships actively lived out.

This weekend we escaped the heat of St. George and retreated to Flagstaff, Arizona. What a delightful town!! A place where you can do things outside in the middle of the day, bikes always have a place on the road, and friends abound in hospitality.

At the top of the last climb of the day at the Peaks in Flagstaff

Another "family" photo with Kristen and Clay Massey


Anthony and Steven after eating the best hamburger EVER.


On the way to Flag, Anthony and I stopped by Red Rocks to climb Dark Shadows, a climb that's been on the tic list for awhile. With the shade and canyon breeze, the weather was surprisingly nice.




Me on the 4th pitch of Dark Shadows.


Anthony on the 3rd pitch of Dark Shadows.

Happy Anniversary

If I get to experience anything close to the marriage that my parents had, I will be an extremely lucky woman. They were married 39 years ago on August 11, 1972 and lived out a true love story.

They shared everything. Passions, activities, food, toothbrushes, and affection. My mom was nearly as into football as my dad; and, my dad always welcomed her and her suggestions into the field house. They played ball together and fished together. Even in Dad’s very sick days, in the hospital and at home, they shared a bed, even if that meant scrunching onto a single mattress. I guess they had a thing for hospitals though. The story is that they became pregnant with me while Dad was in the hospital after back surgery!