This past weekend, we got a small crew together and headed down to Zion. Mike and I had made plans to climb an obscure but worthy looking aid line together with our friend Lynn, for whom it would be his first wall climb (and my second). Unfortunately, Mike’s been a little overworked recently and his brain crossed some wires so he got his dates mixed up and couldn’t join us (Or maybe it’s all that quartzite rock dust on the brain…) Anyway, with Mike out, Steve decided to join us and we settled on Moonlight Buttress. It would be good straightforward aid for me and Steve could check out the free climbing, as he has been firing in the Creek recently.

We met up at Mosquito Cove and after a quick breakfast at the Pioneer, we were packing up in the lot. Just as we were starting down the trail, a good friend rolled up and heckled us that “it goes a lot quicker without all that crap”, in reference to our haul bags and ledges. (He and his partner had freed the route the day before). We thanked him for the advice and let him help carry a ledge with us to the wall, where had to retrieve some stuff they stashed the day before.

The first couple pitches went well, the hauling was a bit funky, but we got it done. Steve took the 4th pitch, up into the 11+ dihedral that looked stellar. He kept going in the 12+ section, and took a funky fall that aggrevated an old shoulder injury as he bounced off the wall. He decided he was done leading for the trip, so I took the next pitch, which aided up an awkward flare, and into the incredible 1″ splitter above. The flare took some time for me to figure out, but once into the splitter above things went quick and I got to the bivy ledge as the last daylight was fading. We set up the ledges and enjoyed an excellent dinner and the beautiful views of the almost full moon illuminating the canyon walls before we drifted off to sleep.

The next morning presented a beautiful day, and Lynn got us going by leading the pitch off the bivy ledge, his first aid lead in 20 years or so. He did a good job, and soon I was off on the next two pitches. The Nutting Pitch was probably my favorite of the route, with thoughtful, but good placements, way above the ground. Steve took the last pitch and we soon found ourselves on top.

I can see why folks like to get efficient enough to do these walls in a day, as hauling is a lot of work. But there’s something to be said for spending the night perched hundreds of feet above the Virgin River, with the bright moon giving an otherworldly light to the surrounding canyon.

The nights are long and cold, but the days bring sunshine and ample warmth. It doesn’t take long for the rock to warm, even under the November sun’s feeble rays. A long night in the tent has us up at first light, and we move about in preparation for the day’s adventure. Perhaps a new wall, a new venue for our vertical pursuit. The approach gets the blood moving, and the sunny cliffs above invite us to enjoy their warmth. For the brown and black stone has been soaking rays since dawn, and now offers a friendly medium for us to play on. The time passes quickly, as the sun makes a speedy journey from one horizon to the next. And all too soon we are headed back to camp, to prepare dinner, spark up a fire, and fend off the night and the cold till we can no longer resist the pull of our sleeping bags. Drifting off with visions of the day’s fun in our heads, excited for what the next will bring.

Ah, that magical time of year. When the snow starts swirling in the mountains, and the ski freaks look for ways to hurt themselves before the season even starts early season turns. And then there are those that know this is the best time of year to be in the desert. You are as fit as you’ll be all season, and it’s now or never to get on those unrelenting vertical splitters that seem so punishing in the spring.

This past weekend, it was even so warm we had to climb in the shade one day! We had a great crew from Carbondale and beyond, and shared many fine pitches, stories and good food around the campfire. There were even some guest appearances by rainbow brite, a pirate, a dead guy and a chick magnet.

Sunday evening of course came too soon, are you ever really ready to leave the Creek? The beautiful landscape and endless splitters always beckon for a return visit. We’ll have to see what we can do, after all, gas sure is cheap these days!

Rainbow Brite?!?! Is that you?

Derek Hanrahan getting warmed up.

I’m in Moab right now for a work trip, and we have the afternoon’s free to get some cragging in. Yesterday we hit up the roadside choss of Potash road. Kind of fun and different to have to blow sand off every hold…

Today we upped the ante and got the tour of a mulitpitch route in Mill Creek. I had climbed here once before on the shorter stuff near the Wicked Crag, and I’d heard rumors of the longer stuff down canyon. It used to be that Mill Creek was the super secret crag that no one talked about. You’d see a stunning photo in Climbing and it would just say “somewhere in Utah.” Over the last couple of years, it seems the locals have relented and it’s not so secret. Still, it’s not all that easy to find good info about the routes (over 300) and it has a feeling of adventure.

Thankfully we were there with a friend who put up many of these longer lines, so we found our route pretty easy and knew what we were getting into (mostly) as we made the two double rope raps into the canyon. The first pitch was a long thuggy corner that ended with difficult face moves protected by a bolt. The next pitch linked interesting features via bouldery moves protected with bolts and gear. The third pitch was the biz, a big roof leading into a chimney. Once it became clear I didn’t have the desire to dig deep and try to send this burly pitch, I started pulling on gear like a French guy on crack. The last was excellent face climbing leading into a nice thin hands splitter on rock that was straight out of Black Velvet Canyon.

These long routes are still pretty off the radar, though an upcoming article in Climbing might change that. There are no moderates, however, so I doubt it’ll become hugely popular. The climbing was excellent and the setting top notch, ask around and go check it out for yourself. You’ll be glad you did.

The rock feels rough against the backs of may hands, but the jams are so good I don’t care. I keep stuffing my hands into the crack, bound for the sky above. The landscape over my shoulder would make a cynic weep, with its red oaks and blazing gold aspens framed by maroon colored rock and deep azure sky. The afternoon light plays across the hillsides in gentle arcs, and every cell in my body wishes this moment could be frozen for me to remember over and over in the coming winter months ahead. I continue to climb, the pitch is long but the movement feels natural, each jam bringing me closer to the bittersweet end. I reach the anchor after 35 meters and look out on the vista that surrounds me. A true work of art, it’s almost enough to evoke tears. I take a deep breath, savoring the fall air…and then lower to take another lap up this masterpiece of vertical stone.