making the most of the summer

Alright, now that it's mid-October I can write about mid-July here...

Me voy a Tejas (Wedding #2)

The weekend after Ryan and I got rained out as described in the previous post, I flew to Austin to be in my second wedding of the summer. It was great to be back in Austin, and believe it or not the 104 degree heat didn't get to me that much. In a break from the wedding festivities, I got to see a few friends from a previous job and have wonderful Tex-Mex... not to mention beer with lime in it that wasn't Corona. What a fabulous idea that is.

But back to the wedding... I got to see my sister and new brother-in-law's home during a post-rehearsal open house. It was great seeing family and meeting new faces on the other side of the wedding. For some reason it felt like I hadn't spent that much time with the fam in this kind of setting in a long time, even though a lot of us had spent Christmas together and we had a wedding the previous May. Ahh well... it was good. Real good. We had the rehearsal dinner at Texas Land & Cattle, of course. It was a traditional Cowboy/Western wear themed party, but I showed up in a guayabera shirt, more of a gaucho than a cowboy. (I had tried to pick up some chaps on craigslist but nothing really fell into place.)

I called out a few relatives that I heard had spent a meal at Quizno's or Subway or something unallowable like that. My sister (the bride) thought I was wasted, but my announcement to the whole party to consult me for culinary advice was sincere and sober. Let thee be warned; the food in Austin is way too damned good to bore your taste buds! Don't give in to the national chain!

Wedding day was very hot - 104 - and the wedding was outside in the afternoon. The stage:

I would have preferred it were October, but there was a nice Central Texas breeze blowing in from the Longhorn ranch on the other side of the fence cooling us off. It was what it was, and we had fun. Amazingly enough, despite me being the only remaining single sibling, there was no onslaught of "so when are you getting married?" jeers. Gracias.

It all went way too fast, and I found myself needing to spend the next few weekends doing little of note.

On the Sharp End in Boulder Canyon

On a Sunday afternoon in mid-August Brian and I went up to Boulder Falls to climb Buried Alive, a 3 pitch sport climb on Tonnere Tower. I decided to put up or shut up, and had a fine learning experience in the process. This was only my second lead, and the first multi-pitch lead attempt. I felt confident in putting my skills to the test, and was psyched to have a partner to follow me up. There was a couple starting our intended climb just as we got there, so we decided to start on something else to warm up with. (Feel free to grin and laugh now if you know where this is going.) We chose the route that looked pretty straightforward about 20 feet to the right of the main event. Once I was 30 feet up I realized that the next 30 feet were beyond 5.9, and had a date with an "almost epic..." After backing off the crux of a 5.11 pitch that I couldn't finish (not to mention lead), making use of a nearby tree, downclimbing to try the 10a next door, not realizing I left a draw in the 3rd-to-last bolt on the 11 (that bolt is 2nd from top here, with my tree in the background), and generally doing my best to ignore the sensation of the shriveling of my testicles, I found myself standing on a ledge to anchor in to the top of the 11 but with too much friction in the system to actually pull the rope into the anchors. Brian had loads of slack in the line, but I literally was pulling with all my strength and no budging. The rope is fine and wasn't stuck on anything but it was not happy being clipped into 2 routes at the same time. Too much friction. Lesson learned. I was glad nobody else was watching, or at least I couldn't hear them laughing from the parking lot. Anyways, then Brian gave it a shot and did very well up to the point that he had decided was far enough. Afterward we hit up the main event since our neighbors were coming down p1 of Buried Treasure. I then discovered the enormous and wonderfully pleasant difference between 5.9ish and 5.11ish. I got to the top of p1 and Brian cleaned up after me. We then realized our brains and arms were jello so it was time to rap 95' back to safety.

I would really like to try to finish Buried Treasure, and would also like to try The Twilight Kid again but only as long as somebody can lead it or toprope it for me... ahh well. All in all I was thrilled to have the knowledge and ability to get myself out of a bad situation, then lead at least one pitch, belay my 2nd-er and get us back to the deck via rapping safely. My new rope and draws did their job, so I was happy. At least now I know for sure where my limits lie and can work within them and hope to push beyond them safely in the future.

Muzzurrah Hilltoppin' in the Sawatch

A few weekends later Phish rode into town and tore Red Rocks to pieces, but I didn't have tickets for any of the 4 nights. The best alternative was to get the heck outta dodge and pretend I wasn't missing one of the best weekends they ever put on and hike a 14er. [Seriously, if you haven't heard these shows, get them! In hindsight, I should have ponied up $250 to a scalper to see 7/30. It is a terrific show, a fun cerebral listen, and gives hope that Phish is back to a far superior era than some of the more recent ones. It probably sounds dumb, but it was sooo uplifting to hear them reaching their full potential again. Welcome back boys, I'll see you soon!]

On the last day of July Ryan, Allison, Trey and I headed up Missouri Gulch towards our old friend Winfield and camped on a cold night. On August 1st we summitted Missouri Mountain. I was worried about trip reports mentioning the climb from the trailhead to treeline being a memorable nightmare of switchbacks. To my surprise and satisfaction (and definitely due to the fact that I had begun running/training for an upcoming 10k) I had little problem with this section. I actually could not believe how well I did; the difference was more than enough for my hiking partners to notice. I am usually terrible at ascending steep hills, but was very comfortable all the way up. Once at treeline we noticed there was fresh snow on Belford, a neighboring 14er. [Snow in July! This has been quite a cool and wet summer, to say the least.]

Once in the basin above treeline, the valley opens up and the hike is trivial until you reach the beginning of Missouri proper. Beyond that, there is a fairly serious incline gaining the final ridge, but once you're on the ridge you're home free. The weather was perfect for us, and we probably could have stayed on top for hours if we cared to. I was overwhelmingly satisfied that my lungs were getting in shape, and to see Huron, the first 14er I summited two years prior, from another angle. The central Sawatch aren't the most challenging mountains in the state, but they offer great views and a great excuse to get outside! Here is the obligatory evidence:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/brett_burch/sets/72157621918368062/

Wedding #3

The next weekend I borrowed a coworker's condo in Frisco and found myself back in the mountains. This was the third wedding of the summer for me, Tony and Shelly's, atop Keystone. This was yet another wonderful weekend in the hills, spent relaxing and enjoying the company of college friends. Before the wedding Ryan and I took his kayaks out on Dillon and had a nice time on the water. After that it was off to Keystone to ride the gondola to 11,000', sunglasses mandatory, with Quandary as the backdrop to the bride and groom's big day.

This comment is in no way an attempt to take away from any of the other weddings I have attended, but seeing Tony and Shelly together was very moving. They truly were the most excited couple I had ever seen walk down the aisle. Tony cried and Shelly glowed... that was pretty much the only way I could describe it. Maybe I shouldn't say any more. It was just really moving. I hope one day to have that same experience.

You gotta run like an Antelope, outta control!

I spent the better part of August and September gradually increasing my running distance to over 6 miles at a 10 minute mile pace to run a 10k section of the Boulder Marathon. Again, historically my cardio has been terrible, so agreeing to run a leg of a marathon was not something I necessarily jumped at when the opportunity presented itself. I did look at it as a way to improve my health (mental and physical) and to prove to myself that I actually could run that distance, regardless of the pace. Averaging a 10-minute mile is hardly worth getting CNN on speaker phone for, but it was what my body would consent to, so I was happy to take what it would give. I finished my 6 miles in about an hour, as expected, and wasn't too sore afterwards, so I can't really complain, but to be perfectly honest I was disappointed with my time. I had trained at a faster pace and hoped for the race to be my best pace yet. This was likely due to the fact that I started running unprepared and with a full bladder, forcing me to stop to use a porta-pot before starting my 5th mile. That was a mistake, to say the least. I guess I'll have to run the Bolder Boulder next Memorial Day and improve :) All in all, it was a goal accomplished and a pat on the back for my lungs to have allowed me to run at all, so I was thankful for the opportunity and look forward to the next one. Handing off the ankle RFID to my teammate to finish the race I thought back to when I first moved to Boulder and how I probably couldn't have run 2 miles without being completely winded. I suppose it's true that sometimes you need to look behind you to see where you've been and appreciate how far you've come...

Now that the race is over, I'll probably try to improve my time over shorter distances (maybe starting with 3 miles, for example), but either way I've been keeping up the running. It's funny what wanting to be in good shape for ski season will make you do... and speaking of, it's currently snowing right now, so ski season isn't too far away! Snow, baby, snow. I am seriously driven to not let my lungs keep me from ascending a 14er couloir and skiing down it, so hopefully I'll continue to improve until I really need it in the spring.

making the most of the rainy season, part III

Wow, it has been a long time since I have updated here... If I remember correctly, there is still much to tell about the rainy season, so here goes.

In late May I took an Intermediate Snow course through CMC Boulder, which was a continuation of last year's Beginner Snow course. In Intermediate we learned how to use snow pro, roped travel, setup anchors, and self arrest with crampons. It built on Basic Snow and the Basic Rock School from earlier in the spring, and was a nice culmination to likely end my classes for a while. I now feel well equipped to safely travel up couloirs (for ski descents, of course). I really like the idea of snow travel as a means of ascent (avoiding the crowds and extending the climbing season), especially when combined with a ski descent (hence the Avy 1 class also). The next class I take will probably be Avy 2 and then eventually leading trad rock. After that, I think I am schooled out.

In early June I bouldered a bit on Mt. Sanitas right outside of Boulder. It was the first time I had really spent much time on Sanitas, and I have to say it surprised me. Maybe I wasn't in the beginner area, but I definitely thought the climbing would be easier. I've heard about tons of V0/V1 problems but didn't find too many when I was there. It was really busy but the rock was much kinder on my hands than Flagstaff is though, so it's a nice little outing in its own right.

A few weeks after Sanitas, I took a spur of the moment long weekend to the Telluride Bluegrass Festival. I went with the same friend I took up to Sanitas. We left Boulder on Wednesday after work and had what basically equates to 5 days of ridiculous debauchery in one of the most incredible settings on the planet. Let's just say that if there ever was a weekend where I put on a good Hunter S. Thompson impersonation, this, dear friends, was one of a select few, hence the leaving out of several details here. Before leaving Boulder we stopped at Liquor Mart for provisions, leaving town with a handful of bottles of beer, a 1.75L bottle of wine, a bottle of vodka, and two 12 packs of canned beer. Wednesday night we drove as far as we could before I started to get spooked of driving with all the deer on the side of the road. We got to Monarch Pass, where it was still very cold and snow was in our campsight. (Nothing like a little alcohol to take the chill out of the air...) We took our time getting going and got into Telluride around noon on Thursday. I hadn't been back to Telluride since I was a boy (middle school?) so this was a very nice reunion. The San Juans were simply stunning, with tons (tons!) of snow still on them. Most of the first day was spent drinking and unloading the Jeep while we set up our camp, finally seeing a few shows, and then head back to camp only to fall asleep and ultimately miss David Byrne's headline of the night. We made friends anyways, and ultimately did not go back to bed until the sun was coming up over the mountains. We slept under the dawn/stars and woke up to begin drinking again. We had a few beers for breakfast (which became the norm of the weekend) before we headed into town for the shows. We danced all day and I got a pretty good sunburn on my feet. That night Béla Fleck & Toumani Diabaté were definitely the highlight show of the weekend for me.

Every act we saw was fantastic though... it got to the point where I would stop checking the schedule, because it simply did not matter who was playing. Every band I knew put on a great show, and every band I didn't know encouraged me to check them out when I got home.

Saturday we woke to a completely different cold and rainy setting, so we headed into town for shelter... not to mention we had run out of beer. We reloaded at a nearby gas station and then headed to the bars. Most of the bars in town were packed, but we managed to find a corner where we watched an incredible dance-off by two of the drunkest people I've seen in recent memory. Ex:

We made our way back to the stage for Yonder Mountain, who were terrific as always, and during which I ran into another Boulderite... small world. The rest of the lineup that night was incredible, with Gaelic Storm capping roughly 10 hours of dancing. My legs were tired, and I was bummed going to bed because Sunday meant a long drive home back to responsibility. The 3am quesadillas helped ease the pain though :) Sunday we caught the first two shows, packed up our tent and headed back to Boulder. I was bummed we had to leave before Emmylou Harris played, but I knew we had to. We went home via I-70 instead of 285, and that made a truly wonderful Tour de Colorado. Photos of the weekend can be found at http://www.flickr.com/photos/brett_burch/sets/72157620431813195.

The weekend after Telluride Ryan, Allison, Brian and I hiked up La Plata via the Southwest Ridge. Ryan and I got our revenge after last year's Jeep-sinking 4th of July incident. It was our first new 14er of the year, and a lot of fun, although (this is the rainy season, after all) we did get rained on and had some nearby lightning. We actually ended up removing our packs to run quickly to the summit and claim our prize before a quick descent. I was happy to have made it down fairly dry, but will try to not cut it so close with the weather in the future. Photos of the outing are at http://www.flickr.com/photos/brett_burch/sets/72157620702598064/.

Lastly, Ryan and I tried to climb on 4th of July weekend in Boulder Canyon and got rained out. As soon as we reached the crag after some trailhead-finding troubles the clouds let rip with rain and lightning nearby. It looked something like:

I was happy just to head into town for some time at The Spot. The 4th of July truly seems cursed for us.

Thus concludes the rainy season. Bring on the snow season!!

making the most of the rainy season, part II: Tuning Fork couloir

After my hiatus mentioned at the end of the previous post, on May 30th I decided to employ my ice axe, crampons, and Avy 1 class lessons in an attempt of my first day of backcountry skiing (aside from the field trip in the avy class). I joined a coworker on his annual outing up to Torrey's Peak, a Front Range 14er which I've summited in the summer. Instead of the route from Steven's Gulch, we headed up Grizzly Gulch to Tuning Fork couloir with the objective of skiing the same route ascended. I felt safe knowing that both guys I was going with had done the exact route previously, that the season was getting late enough to have a nicely consolidated snowpack, and that we had an easy emergency bailout possible by simply clicking in and pointing downhill.

We all had beacon / shovel / probes just in case, but to be honest, my bigger concern was whether my cardio would allow me to keep up with guys in much better shape than I. My disadvantage was exaggerated by not having an AT or tele setup, so I climbed in mountaineering boots with both my alpine skis and alpine boots on my back instead of just wearing my ski boots for the climb (... let's just say that I am now acutely aware that my alpine boots weigh 10 lbs). I was extremely excited but in all honesty, because of this, I had really low expectations of actually making it to the top and was resolved to be content with however the day turned out.

We left Darren's house in Golden around 5:15am and headed towards the Bakerville exit. Rob's Land Rover made quick work of the 4WD road, and we hit the trail with clear skies. After a little bit of routefinding, stream crossing, and postholing, we made it to the steeper section where you gain the bench that is effectively the apron of the couloir. Apparently I hadn't eaten enough for breakfast, because in between the time that we put on our crampons and reaching the top of the bench (just a few minutes) at ~11,400' my stomach dropped and I was completely out of steam. I started in on my lunch before starting the couloir (and the climb in earnest). After a few minutes' delay, I was off, trailing behind Darren and Rob but making progress.

I got into a decent rhythm of "plant ice axe, step, step, repeat" and slowly formed the opinion that this was the true way to fully experience a mountain.

After a while clouds started to roll in, and it seemed like making it to the top would not be possible. We pressed on knowing that a quick getaway was easy, but apparently only averaging about 500' elevation gain / hour. In the end this proved too slow, and we were turned around somewhere around 12,600' having climbing only about halfway up the couloir. As the graupel began to fall, we moved skis from packs to feet and headed down. I hadn't realized how exhausted I was until I tried to make a few turns. My legs were absolute mush. (Note to self: leave enough gas in the tank to be able to let 'er rip next time.) I made it down OK, but wasn't able to fully enjoy the descent because of the condition of my legs. Darren's video of me tells the tale... embarrassing. If I had been fresher, those may have been my funnest tracks yet... they were easily my hardest earned ones. I will definitely be returning to complete the journey in seasons to come.

Hopefully without putting too much emphasis on these points, I'd like to also point out that I personally consider this a foray into more legitimate mountaineering (I don't really count the glissade of Cristo couloir), as well as a deviation from previous 14er outings where the main objective was the summit. I was climbing on this occasion not primarily to make it to the top, but to reap the rewards of the climb on the descent. I wasn't hiking to the top to check a mountain off of a to-do list. (I had already been to the top of Torrey's, after all. I've talked to this before, so I won't dwell...) I'm not about to suggest that all my previous 14er outings have been boring aside from the summit photo (completely the opposite), but still, this day seemed like a progression in my mountain experience, or whatever you want to call it, and it felt very good. The climb was extremely interesting in its own right, and wasn't just a means to an end. I was thrilled to be using my axe and crampons instead of following a train of backpacks up a relatively straightforward trail. What little couloir kool-aid the day provided was more than enough to plant the seed for an addiction to climbing couloirs and skiing them... or getting off-piste turns at the very least.

This was one of the most rewarding days on a 14er I've had, despite not summiting. I re-learned that eating, timing of nutrition, and mental clarity are hugely important in these kind of outings. I have also officially decided to do something about my crappy lungs. I'm not going to allow myself to just be the slow one in the group anymore. If I am serious about intense exertion at high altitute, I need to get my lungs in better shape, and so I will. My photos of the outing are at http://www.flickr.com/photos/brett_burch/sets/72157618945111321.

making the most of the rainy season

I've been slacking on keeping you, the loyal reader, up to date here. Sooooooooooo here goes. From mid-April through May:

After April powder I moved on to April rain at lower elevation. I took the Basic Rock class through the Boulder CMC. We had 2 night classes during the week and then 3 consecutive Saturday field trips. It turns out that all 3 of our Saturdays were either rainy or snowy, so we didn't actually get much climbing in, but I still learned a decent amount. I still can't lead and don't have much knowledge about building anchors, but at least now I can second multipitch, prussik up something I can't climb, rappel around a knot, tie you off if you break your leg as my leader, and get myself out of a system to go get help.

The following Saturday actually wasn't too rainy, so I went climbing with Ryan, Tony, and Joe as part of Ryan's bachelor party/day. We went up to Mt. Boner in the Ironclads area for some top-roping. I led my first sport route, a 5.6,

and for some reason got spooked when it was time to come down. A bit embarrassing. I recovered by climbing a 5.10b. Considering I hadn't (and still haven't) climbed 5.9 outside before, I was a bit surprised to have made it to the top. It was a short route, and I might not have done it exactly right, but either way, it was a fun climb. Apparently my sessions at The Spot have been paying off. A few guys from work and I were recently wondering how hard we could climb outside, so I guess we'll have to see if I can actually climb 5.10 again soon. The rest of the photos from the Ironclads outing are available at http://www.flickr.com/photos/brett_burch/sets/72157617844291613.

The weekend after climbing outside was Ryan's and Allison's wedding, so I hosted 3 friends from college in my 1 bedroom castle in Boulder. It was the first time Ryan, me, and those 3 had been together since graduating from Miami, so that was fun. I have no idea who out of the 5 of us is going to get married next, but hopefully it won't be another 6 years before we find ourselves at the same place/time again. The weather for the wedding was very pleasant, the setting was perfect, and overall the day went great. I gave my second Best Man speech (which went well) and had a really good time catching up with everybody. I'm sure Ryan will have more photos and details on his blog soon, so I'll let him tell the whole story there...

The next weekend I decided that after spending the last 6 weekends out of Boulder, I would stay in town. I did nothing (well, caught up a lot of stuff around the house...), and it too was wonderful. Sometimes you just gotta rest.

sense of place and the affects on the individual

At Miami my Thematic Sequence was about conservation. In the last class our final project was to write a paper or create a project about Sense of Place. I really didn't understand the goal of the project until I was almost finished with mine, and could do a far better job now... 6 years later. (Have I really been out of school for 6 years? Yikes.) As I drove home from Denver a few nights ago I was struck with a bizarre yet interesting (to me, at least) realization that a lot of music (American or otherwise) reveals with amazing accuracy a person's sense of place. Hopefully this doesn't sound arrogant, but I really feel like I could describe a songwriter's relationship with their local geography, even if I'd never heard the song, with pretty good accuracy. It is actually a common theme that an artist conveys their surroundings more than they might realize? Or is it intentional? Maybe it's a reflection that as a musician you express what you know/see/feel best. I guess that makes sense; unless you were hoping to make a very specific statement that was the opposite of what you were surrounded by, that's exactly what you would do. A few examples are probably needed here.

• Listen to any (ANY) Lynyrd Skynyrd song. You can practically smell the bayou, the whiskey and crawfish,
• It is impossible to separate the Red Hot Chili Peppers from California. I can almost feel the Pacific and the southern California sun beating down on my face.
• Grab your nearest Andean pan flute album and tell me you can't feel the damp clouds rolling in over the lush mountain valleys. (Liar!)
• What does the Jamaican state of mind sound like? Queue up the Bob Marley album of choice.

This made me think about what else reflects that we, to a certain degree, are a product of our surroundings. Vocabulary and hobbies are a few examples. I wonder what interests would occupy my free time if I didn't live in Boulder or hadn't been exposed to the Rockies at an early enough age to pine for their bounty. If I grew up on the Pacific coast, for example, would I have an interest in sea kayaking but care less about skiing? If I grew up in Australia would I have a passion for scuba and detest winter?