Checking It Out

The text chain between the three of us has been pretty consistent for several months. The question is posed—usually by Anna—then arrangements are made. This time it went something like this:

Anna: looks cloudy up there
[a few minutes pass]
Jared: I was just about to write that
[some more minutes pass]
Sydney: give it some more time?
Later…
Anna: Let’s take two vehicles cuz it won’t take much for me to bail
I feel similar, but quickly reply with the thumbs up emoji.
Anna: I’ll pick up Jared

Two small dogs—one copper, one gray—yap and stick their heads out of Anna’s back window. I lift my backpack onto my shoulder and walk to the curb like 100 times before. She has the tailgate dropped and hatch lifted before I make the curb and climbs back into the driver’s seat with nary a word. I slide my pack into the bed, close up the back, and climb into the front seat. And just like always, the dogs lick my ear and stick their noses onto my neck. “Hello Leroy, Hello Mabel.” And with no change in routine, we mostly ride in silence up to the canyon.

Just shy of where the pavement bends into the canyon, the silence is broken. “47 degrees” Anna says.
“Not bad for February” I reply. “But it’s overcast and February.”

Sydney is at the parking lot already. As we pull in, we watch the juniper and grass and a temporary paper license plate on a new, lunar-rock colored Tundra all blow in the wind.

I put my window down and Sydney does the same with hers. “Sure is windy out there.”

“I’d walk up” Syd says to no surprise of Anna or I; always have to walk up.

I offer the usual, inane comment about the climbers’ coalition installing a wind sock and some web-cams so we don’t have to expend as much energy. Of course it is a pointless observation and doesn’t actually serve to move us upward or homeward. . .

After some back and forth Anna agrees and we pile out and bundle up. The dogs take off up into the sage, darting here and there, smelling, peeing, pooping, and yapping. Collectively, we set off up the hill with packs and various puffy layers to cut the chilly wind. The uphill hike yields body heat to counteract the wind, so a stop for a layer shedding is made, but there is little else besides quiet conversation and dog talk.

Other than connecting with three additional friends, not much changes by the time the trail deposits us into the Moss Cave below the steep dolomite cliff. They too thought the best option was at least to go check it out. Always have to go check it out; Sinks, De la ’S, Valle Alerce, kinda all the same, maybe just with differing timelines, investments, and commitments.

“Well, it is usually less windy to the right” someone verbalizes what we all pretty much know.

We move right a few hundred yards and drop packs in the relative calm of a few lovely warmups. It’s still overcast with a slight breeze but we drop packs anyway. With six of us, three ropes’ll go up quick and a fast-n-furious six pitches won’t be that hard to come by. Along with a few other folks, the dog to person ratio settles in at almost one per person; very appropriate, if not low.

Despite the weather, the climbing and company are fun; conversations, freewheeling banter, and the supreme focus on movement and body serve to make the wind and gray skies less noticeable, only reinforcing the concept of walking up and checking it out.

Featured Image: a dry early-February day at the Sinks Canyon Main Wall.