It's not a cold weather thing

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Occasionally some people suggest that the difference between countries where shoes are removed and where they are kept on is the climate. This is pretty misleading.

It is true that most countries with harsh winters like Canada and Finland are in the shoes-off camp, while the gentle weather of Mediterranean Europe is enjoyed by Spanish and Italians who for the most part, keep their shoes on indoors.

However, there are many countries with warm climates that practice the shoes-off rule. These include:

Morocco

Guyana

India

Hawaii (USA)

United Arab Emirates

Saudi Arabia

Bangladesh

Malaysia

Thailand

Nauru

Fiji

Maldives

Sri Lanka

And in some countries which have cold winters, but warm summers, for instance Albania and Croatia, shoes are removed over the whole year, winter and summer.

The fact is that whether the weather is hot or cold, dirt is still dirt. The fact that the weather outside is warm does not mean that the streets and the soil outside is clean.

Elderly Couple On Christmas Day

My parents invited an elderly couple over for dinner on Christmas day. They both removed their shoes on entering, despite my mother's protests that "We are not posh."

This couple run the trailer park (which in the UK has no class connotations) on which they live, so I suppose they are used to their shoes being muddy.

Often elderly people are thought of as being unable or unwilling to remove their shoes, but this is not always the case. The gentleman was diabetic. Some medical practitioners (particularly in the USA) give quite rigorous advice to diabetics, encouraging them never to go without shoes. Not all medical practioners take this drastic line and not all diabetics follow it either. Not all people with diabetes develop problems with their feet, though they need to make sure they look after them. The NHS website has a link to Diabetes UK, which gives advice about footcare, but does not insist on the 'wear shoes all the time' rule. It says:

'Fortunately, you do not usually need to do anything very different from other people – general advice on footcare applies to you.'

I thought it interesting that my mother though having a shoes-off rule was 'posh.' Generally people seem to think requiring shoes off is 'tacky.' Nevertheless, when she visited some relatives over the weekend, she took some slippers with her to wear, so I am obviously having an impact.

Fictional People (Stereotypes?) Part 6

Natasha

Natasha is 31 and lives with her husband, Stan, on a council estate in Bedfordshire. They have been married for just a year, but had been living together for several years previously. Natasha has three children, one of whom was from a previous boyfriend.

Stan works as a mechanic. Natasha recently started working part-time in a sandwich shop. She had not worked prior to this since she was a teenager. Natasha left school when she was 16 and got pregnant soon after that.

Natasha has a shoes-off policy in her home.

This was a recent decision, after the council redecorated her house and put in a new wooden floor. Natasha was immensely proud of the improvements and decided she wanted to make an effort to keep the place looking nice. She had been a single mother for a number of years and had lived in some flats that were pretty grotty. She was poor then and she and her husband don't have a lot of money to throw around these days either. Her attitude is that you should value what you have got and look after it.

Some of Stan's mates moaned about having to shed their shoes when visiting, but Natasha soon put them in their place, "Fussing like a bunch of girls, you lot. Do you think your hard do you, moaning about your cold feet?"

With three children, it is not easy to keep their house clean, so reducing the dirt from foot traffic went a long way.

Natasha had also been prompted to institute the no-shoes rule when she read in Hello magazine that Mishelle Beckfield, the wife of the famous footballer Wayne Beckfield, required people to take their shoes in her home. Natasha adores Mishelle Beckfield. She would love to dress like her, but lacked both the disposable income and the slender figure of the footballer's wife.


Mishelle Beckfield

As with many of the more prominent WAGs, Mishelle had a fair dose of luck on her side. Like many young women, she had spend a fair bit of time in the pubs and clubs where the young players of a minor football club used to hang out. She became the girlfriend of one of the players, and with her boundless enthusiasm behind him, Wayne became the star of a major football team within a matter of years, and scored a crucial goal for England in the World Cup. Their marriage had been a major media event that was featured in the celebrity rags of every soccer-loving nation.

Mishelle very much enjoys the celebrity lifestyle and has been able to meet film stars, supermodels pop musicians and was even the dinner guest of a French philosopher (whose conversation she did not find particularly interesting). Mishelle appeared in the reality show "You're a celebrity, I presume?" in which celebrities got to explore jungles in remote parts of the world. While she enjoyed the media attention, she found it something of an ordeal and needed a number of shopping trips to recover.

Mishelle has a shoes-off policy in her homes, which include her Georgian estate in the home counties, her villa in the south of France, her luxury apartments in New York and Paris, and you could probably include her yacht, on which she spends a fair amount of time.

It was actually the yacht that got Mishelle wedded to the idea of having a shoes-off policy in her homes. Before getting her own yacht, she had spent plenty of time in other peoples' yachts. She knew the drill; a yacht is a stiletto free zone. However much you might spend on shoes, they were not acceptable on a yacht. This was not too much of an hassle with her perfectly pedicured feet.

Mishelle had noticed that the wood floors in her homes seemed to take a fair amount of punishment from stiletto heels, both from hers and those of her friends. Sure, she had plenty of money coming in from her husband's lucrative transfer deal and the royalties from her ghost-written autobiography, but why throw it down the drain on repair bills? Take care of the thousands, and the millions will look after themselves.

The nation's most desired hostess wasted no time in laying down the law. If her friends could look glamorous in their bare feet at boat parties, they could look just as glamorous sans stilettos when visiting her. The gossip columns managed to get a few snarky comments about her shoes-off rule, but what did Mishelle care? She was used to journalists bitching and she suspected they were probably just as precious about their crumby little apartments in London.

Shoes Off At A Party?

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There are some people who are strict about no-shoes in their homes who make an exception for parties. They feel that parties are an occasion when people expect to dress up and this must include shoes. I disagree with their view. I think it is perfectly reasonable to require shoes to be removed for a party.

In Canada and Scandinavia, it is common for people to attend formal parties with a special set of party shoes that are not worn outdoors. This is not really feasible in the UK. I doubt that many British folks have shoes that are never worn oudoors, unless they keep a pair of sneakers to go to the gym. And if those formal party shoes have high-heels, they are unacceptable anyway.

Some people say that part of a party is clearing up afterwards, so you should not make a fuss about mess from people's shoes. This seems a little silly to my mind. People will make more than enough mess at a party without them bringing in dirt on their shoes. There will be plenty of spilled wine and crumbs ground into the carpet without chewing gum and dog dirt from peoples' shoes as well. Also the main party season in the West is Christmas and New Year, when there will be plenty of rain and snow (maybe not snow in England, but plenty of rain). The party season is a wet season.




Some argue that people will feel silly and uncomfortable at a party without their shoes. It is true that people might find it a little odd. But they will probably feel more comfortable for having removed their shoes. If it is made clear in the invitation that shoes willl need to be removed, then it will not come as a shock. Furthermore, if there is alcohol at the party, then most people will be feeling more relaxed.

The main argument levelled against shoes-off at parties is that people dress up for parties. A lot of people, particularly women, will chose their outfits very carefully and they the choice of shoes is part of that selction. For them, a party is an occasion to show off their good taste. They would not want to combine their cocktail dresses with barefeet.

In response I would say that parties are hardly the only occasions for dressing up. Ladies can show off their fancy shoes in restaurants or at the races. Not all parties are such formal occasions. If a party is a smart-casual event, it is actually quite rude to dress up more smartly than other guests.

The host sets the theme of a party. If it is meant to be a fancy dress party, then you should make the effort to find a costume or stay home. If it is an informal party, leave the suit or cocktail dress at home. If it is a no-shoes party, leave the kitten heels at the door.




I keep making this point, but I will make it again: it is best that guests know in advance that shoe-removal is required. If you are printing fancy invitations, make it known there (with some clip-art maybe?). If people know that they will have to take their shoes off, it will not come as a shock and they can plan their outfit with this in mind. They can bring some nice slippers that complement their outfit if they want and they can avoid long trousers that only look right when worn with high heels.

There is the question of whether it is really possible to hold a formal party while people are shoeless. It may be difficult in the West to maintain an air of formality when everybody is without their shoes, but is that really such a bad thing? Is it not better to be relaxed at a party? Certainly, the host and guests can make an effort to keep the party formal. Men can look reasonably smart by combining respectable slippers with their suits and women can look pretty elegant in stocking feet. So all is not lost. If shoes-off in homes becomes more common, shoe-lessnes will probably become less associated with being casual and informal.

There are some people who will certainly be far more happy and comfortable to party without their shoes on. As I argued in a previous post, it is not simply a matter of giving these people the choice. At a shoes-on party, those who take it upon themselves to remove their shoes are likely to get their feet squashed and to have to walk on a soggy carpet. Shoes-off for all guests makes it easier for those who want to take their shoes off.

And now, for some poetry...

Rest
by: Christina Rosetti (1830-1894)

O earth, lie heavily upon her eyes;
Seal her sweet eyes weary of watching, Earth;
Lie close around her; leave no room for mirth
With its harsh laughter, nor for sound of sighs.
She hath no questions, she hath no replies,
Hushed in and curtained with a blessed dearth
Of all that irked her from the hour of birth;
With stillness that is almost Paradise.
Darkness more clear than noonday holdeth her,
Silence more musical than any song;
Even her very heart has ceased to stir:
Until the morning of Eternity
Her rest shall not begin nor end, but be;
And when she wakes she will not think it long.


Whirwind
by Eligh (1980-present)

The wind blows, and so my pen flows;
Fingers tense around the plastic curling at my ten toes;
Intensity is rising in my brain like a train wreck,
I wrestle with the feelings in my heart I can't explain yet,
Never had a love like this before,
In love with her lips seeing her face when I open up the door, when I drop my shit and give her all I got, me amore, deserving of someone special in her life who gives a damn I'll be that man till the end of time I'm not afraid;
Keep wiping away that shade to bring that light behind her eyes,
Attracted like matches of flint rock when it catches hard to get apart like the jaws of a pit stop and listen to the angels sing to you,
Amplified by I,
Harmonizing, my deep is true, colonizing a love so true theres nothing I won't do for you, sweet soul and a dream come true, but both of us got work to do,
A million miles of love inside you I can see it when your smilin',
Put it on me, I'm all in, when you call me I'm beside you nightmares get replaced by fantasy,
All I care about is that you stay around and dance with me,
Slow dancin' romancin' hold hands but don't hold your breath, cause I won't disappear from here I got your back until death,
Sweet whirl wind surround us, but noone can define us, your my highness, the blanket to my Linus, and I promise, no lies, I'm yours,
Your scent is in my pores in the whirl wind...

'When I Do Count the Clock That Tells the Time'
by: William Shakespeare (1564-1616)

When I do count the clock that tells the time,
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night;
When I behold the violet past prime,
And sable curls, all silver'd o'er with white;
When lofty trees I see barren of leaves,
Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,
And summer's green all girded up in sheaves,
Born on the bier all white and bristly beard;
Then of thy beauty do I question make,
That thou among the wastes of time must go,
Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake,
And die as fast as they see others grow;
And nothing 'gainst Time's scythe can make defence
Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.

Warning! There Will Be No Warning

The British Department for the Environment, Farming, and Rural Affairs (DEFRA) has announced that farmers do not need to give prior notice before using pesticides on their crops.

This means that if you live in the UK you cannot be sure whether your area is contaminated by pesticides.

Regardless of whether this decision is right or wrong, it is vital that if you live in a rural area, you consider the risk of pesticide contamination. Your shoes may pick up traces of the stuff. Make sure you remove them at the door and ask visitors to remove their shoes.

Intermission from normal service

This is me at the graduation ceremony, at which I was awarded my PhD for research in theology (University of Gloucestershire). The ceremony was a couple of weeks ago at Cheltenham racecourse. Still reading this blog, Victoriap?

One of the professors who questioned me in the oral exam stumbled across this blog by chance last year. She told me her son and his girlfriend have a shoes-off policy in their place. Good for them.

I know you don't get to see many pictures of me, but I thought I would make an exception. There are other pictures of me online, but I am not going to tell you where to find them.

Athlete's Foot

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An unpleasent fungal infection.

A lot of people mention Athlete's Foot as an argument against people having a shoes-off policy. However, this is a quite unnecessary concern.

Athlete's Foot is generally associated with swimming pools and changing rooms. It is possible to catch Athlete's Foot on one's barefeet at a swimming pool or in a locker room. However, recent research indicates that this is not so likely as was previously thought.

Most importantly, the reason people catch Athlete's Foot in those places is not because people there are barefoot, but because the fungus needs a warm and wet environment. People get exposed to the fungus in the damp conditions. If they fail to dry their feet, the fungus is very comfortable and even more so if the victim puts on sweaty socks.

The fungus will not survive long on the clean, dry floor or carpet of a person's home and so you are very unlikely to catch Athlete's Foot in somebody's house, even if the owner has the condition.

What is more, people who are not wearing socks are likely to put on sandals when they leave, as opposed to closed shoes. Thus, they will not create the right environment for the condition to thrive.

Of course, if you are worried about it, you can always bring some slippers or socks when you visit a shoes-off home.

People who have a shoes-off policy ought to let their visitors know in advance and be willing to lend a pair of clean socks.

Achoo!: Shoes Off Means Less Allergies

Achoo!: Shoes Off Means Less Allergies

'Shoes track into the house everything that they've encountered outdoors. In addition to plain old dirt, this includes pesticides found in soil, pollen grains, mold spores, pet dander, and more. With all the allergens in your home already and the efforts you make to reduce them, the last thing you need to do is bring more into the house and spread them all over the place. Institute a shoes-off policy and slip on some cozy slippers instead – it's for your health!'

Should One Provide Slippers For Guests?

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In some Eastern European and Asian countries, guests change from their shoes into slippers provided by the host.

Some argue that if you intend to have a shoes-off policy in your home, you should keep some slippers for guests to wear. It is argued that this will make them feel more comfortable and prevent embarassments such as foot odour and holes in socks.

I am not inclined to think so. I think the practise of providing guest slippers might be just a bit too weird for British. Many British people will have been to a house where shoes-off was required, but not many people will have been offered guest slippers to wear, unless it was in another country. I think a lot of English guests would prefer to go barefoot, rather than wear slippers that are not their own. In conversations I have had with people about Japan, I have noticed people go 'ew' at the idea of wearing borrowed slippers.



If slippers are provided, then they must either be disposable plastic slippers or else slippers that can go in the washing machine. It would be quite unreasonable to expect guests to wear slippers that have been worn by somebody else that day. I am not sure whether most slippers are machine washable. Some guests might not even trust you that they really have been cleaned and may prefer to stay in bare or stocking feet.

It might be a good idea to buy slippers for family and regular visitors and keep them at your house. These should be worn only by the person they are provided for. Hopefully, one's family and close friends would be delighted by this consideration.

Providing clean socks is a different matter. I would suggest keeping a supply of clean socks in different sizes by the door for guests who are not comfortable going barefoot.

I think it is very sensible to let visitors know in advance that one has a shoes-off rule in one's home. That way, they can be sure to wear socks without holes or bring their own slippers if they prefer.

'elf and safety'

There was an article about Finnish schools in the Guardian today. In the last year I have seen quite a few articles about the Finnish education system. They usually point out how much better their record of success is compared to British schools and how different some of their methods are. Invariably they mention the fact that Finnish school children are shoeless in the classroom.

It does seem that quite a few British schools are moving in the Finnish direction of having pupils remove their shoes. I can imagine health and safety might slow this trend down a bit, however.

I do get the impression that on the continent, there is not the same rigorous culture of 'elf and safety' that we have in the United Kingdom. In some European countries you get nurses and supermarket staff wearing open-toed sandals, something that would not be permitted in the UK.

I am not one of those right-wing bores who collect and share stories about 'elf and safety gone mad.' I find those people rather tiresome. A lot of these stories that do the rounds have been exaggerated or even made up by the press. On the other hand, one can imagine that an obsession with health and safety can sometimes cause a lot of misery.

I hope health and safety concerns don't prevent more British schools from adopting the very sensible Finnish practice of shoes-off in the classroom. It protects floors and carpets paid for by the taxpayer, teaches children about respect and creates a quiet and peaceful atmosphere.

Excellent Leavenworth Vid by Kelly (NW Granite)

Watch this VIDEO!!!

This is a great vid that I'm sure everyone has already seen by now.
Thanks for wetting the appetite Kelly!

Choice

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Some people are of the opinion that it is very important that guests have the choice of whether to keep their shoes on or not.

However, it is not as simple as that. Some choices may impose on the choices of others.

Some visitors may want to take their shoes off, but may fear that doing so will be considered rude. Being informed that shoes-off is encouraged will be a great welcome for these people.

The shoes-on folks might then argue, "Yes, but you can still let people keep their shoes on without imposing on the people who prefer to go shoeless."

However, this is not the case. Firstly, those people who want to take their shoes off may fear, if there are lots of other guests, particularly at a party, that their feet may get squashed by other peoples' shoes. In a crowded party, it can be hard to avoid having people tread on your toes.

Secondly, people who take their shoes off will prefer to walk on a floor that is cleaner. In fact, there is another issue here, as Angie pointed out in a previous post. Some guests will enjoy sitting on the floor. And sitting on the floor is a much more pleasent experience when it is clean. So allowing guests the choice of wearing shoes imposes on those who like to sit on the floor.

The simple truth is that no host can please everybody. However, there are far more good reasons to insist on shoes coming off at the door than for allowing shoes to stay on. Let guests chose between slippers, socks ot barefeet. That is choice enough.

Giants Orbiting

As I listened to Bob Marley sing a melodious yet melancholy song about revolution and love I pulled my hat down sinking lower in my little camping chair trying to soak up as much of the sun as I possibly could. My breakfast was cold and uninspired but I was full and couldn’t complain about the view. The Eastern Sierras spread out before me in a never ending disruption of what would otherwise be a perfectly straight horizon. I pondered how grateful I was for the small things in life, such as: the wind had stopped blowing, I had the conscious foresight to bring two sleeping bags, I wasn’t wearing jean shorts, and even though I had not sent anything yet I wasn’t hurt and my car was in perfect working condition. This escape from reality is instantaneously intoxicating. Time only becomes relevant as far as measuring the day light you have to pursue this beautiful activity, and friends become a lifeline to keeping you engaged in exuberance and chaos. Everything is funny, and status is like a relic from some forgotten society once worldly and dominating and now extinct and irrelevant. Beauty is everywhere and within everything and it becomes so much clearer to me why this lifestyle is so attractive and relentlessly magnetic.

Iron Man Traverse.

Our lovely campsite at the Sads. There were probably more boulder problems in this small vicinity than there are in some established areas in Leavenworth (no offense Leavenworth).

Monday:
Barring our harrowing experience with I-50 and 395 on our way down, our first true day in Bishop was as blue bird as they come. We naturally headed straight to the Milks and proceeded to warm up by just standing in close proximity to the Iron Man traverse. The sun radiated off of this beautiful white face and before you knew it I was sweating buckets without even putting my shoes on. Oh yeah, let me introduce my traveling companions as well as the good friends we met up with and spent the next 5 days with:
Jimmy and Kevin made the trip down with me, and we met up with Jeremy, Derek, Reese, and Olcay (pronounced Ol-jai).

Derrick: A.k.a The Short Necked Giraffe, a.k.a Big Diesel

Little Bro Reese: A.k.a The Quiet One, a.k.a Shadow Warrior

Jimmy: a.k.a Youngblood, a.k.a Flashito, a.k.a 'The Future Will Be Mine'

Kevin: a.k.a Johnny G Jr., a.k.a Mini G, a.k.a The Ripped Girl, a.k.a The Finnish'er, a.k.a The Whipping Boy, a.k.a Rainbow Brite

Olcay: a.k.a Chris Sharma, a.k.a Beast from the Middle East, a.k.a Old Guy, a.k.a 300 Extra, a.k.a Relentless!

Jeremy: a.k.a J-Dawg (woof woof) a.k.a Jesse's Shower a.k.a Jeremy Spoke in Class Today a.k.a Mr. Witty


Iron Man was a grease-fest but for Kevin’s first time in Bishop his flash ascent of this line was very impressive. As we trekked through the milks checking out lines like Haroun and the Sea of Stories and Fly Boy we made stops at Soul Slinger and High Plains but only climbed on Soul Slinger. This is definitely a sweet line with great holds until the peak of the crux which is on a dreadfully small crimper and poor side pull. I was not strong enough to pull past these heinous grips but I did really enjoy climbing on the line.

Mini G on the first big move of Soul Slinger.

Our last stop at the milks for the day was well worth it. The Grandpa Peabody boulder is less of a boulder and more of a miniature version of a small planet. Its overhanging face is beautifully streaked with neon lemon/lime lichen and populated by perfectly spaced and molded for climbing hand holds. I wanted to see it for myself and yes, it is remarkable. Lucid Dreaming is truly one of the hardest boulder problems I’ve touched and just from feeling that little pinch I was amazed and disgusted at the same time that someone was able to deadpoint that little hold. The little pile of rocks stacked beneath Evilution was covered with two small pads as someone was trying the first dead point crux. Jimmy was foaming at the mouth for this line and strapped on the Dragons and got to work. I strapped on the tri-pod and got to clicking off some shots and video just in time to record him swinging up the face like a monkey. Very cool! I’m extremely motivated now to come back and try this climb.

Jimmy snags the first big crux move, on Evilution to the Lip.

Our first day was definitely a full blown 180 from the day before spent cramped in my car for 18 hrs. and it wasn’t over yet. We spent the remainder of the fleeting day light at the Happy’s where we ran into a dazed and somewhat confused bunch of our friends on their way out. We had already pitched our tents at their very comfortable camp site near the upper parking lot for the Sad boulders so we continued our journey. We ran a literal send train on Jug Start To Acid Wash Right but got shut down on the frame bending drop knee of the sit start. We finally migrated to Morning Dove White (lovingly re-named by our group as Pigeon Shit White) and made some good progress but got shut down by yet another Bishop drop knee. What is it with the Happys and drop knee’s?? Okay, the first day was in the books and we were ready for some sweet lovin’ by the fire.

Tuesday:
I awoke to ascend the small scramble near our camp and stand on top of the volcanic table lands. I wanted to check out the Sierra Nevada Mt. Range but it was almost completely covered in a newly formed weather system and it looked like the Buttermilks were getting dumped on by Mother Nature. We had planned to climb at the Happys all day anyway so it was no great loss. The sun was blazing when we arrived at Central Happiness but it didn’t last all day. The warm ups were so good. Solarium is so timeless; a cool little V.2 arête whose name evades me, and of course the Hulk. I don’t know what it is about Central Happiness that inspires or provokes people to instantly set up tripods and I-pod stereos but in no time the dusty flat space between the boulders was crawling with them!

Central Happiness! Olcay on Solarium.

Plus, what’s up with the occasional dirty, pad-less, creepy local who slinks from problem to problem with nary a word to say and only contempt for the masses in his eyes? I guess it’s a phenomenon of any world class bouldering scene, but it doesn’t make it any less sketchy. Maybe we’re the creepy ones in his eyes?
Kevin made another great send by shouldering through the Hulk and sending it in a style I have never witnessed before. Kudo’s Kev! Jimmy also managed to beast his way past the ridiculously crimpy dyno of Disco Diva for another hard send of the trip, NAILS! We eventually ended up at Pigeon Shit again and much progress was made with Olcay coming super duper close to landing the crimp out of the drop knee crux. I flailed. Our attention was turned to Every Color You Are and Mr. Witty with send trains almost materializing. Jeremy had an epic good time on Mr. Witty falling from the lip twice before destroying the last move and topping out for the only Oly’ send.
Jimmy came away victorious on Every Color You Are and I came away lucky enough to not have a concussion, yikes! After falling from the jug rail on ECYA 4 times in a row I decided my place was in the shadows deviously staring into the view finder of my camera.

Olcay, Every Color You Are!

Jr. G giving ECYA a go.

Mr. Witty himself on Mr. Witty.



Heinous techy crimps, AAAAAHHHHHH!

Time to unclench the butthole!

The day’s end was atop the rim of the canyon watching as Jimmy, Derrick, and another dude we met from Florida (no rocks?? No wonder he drove out here by himself!) bear hugged this massive double arête resembling the Atari symbol. My feelings were somewhat guarded at the time and I decided not to try it. I could hear a small violin being played for me somewhere in the distant landscape.

Rain approaches!

Derrick on Atari (a braver man than myslf).

The Florida Kid on Atari.

Flashito on the flash!

Again, we headed back to camp to bask in the glow of the fire. Unfortunately for us, a heavy wind decided to accompany our crew for the next day and two nights which made lounging by the fire with complete indiscretion an impossibility.


Wednesday:
The morning was spent trying to safe guard what little heat you could generate for yourself before the wind came along and stole it from you. It was, however, a beautiful day and we had plans to storm the Sads and see why it was such a gloomy place. If Bishop was to be compared to the gang from Winnie the Pooh, the Sad boulders would be like Eeyore. A lonely and dejected donkey, once caught in the crescendo of life’s great adventures, now left to rot in a pool of alcoholism and Quaaludes, forever asking someone to nail him in the rear. However, like Eeyore, the Sads have something to contribute to the misadventures of our little gang. Rio’s Crack is a beautiful line that begs for attention. We had an hour and a half sesh on this cool crimpy crack and just before we were ready to hang our heads in defeat Olcay screamed like a man and latched the deep incuts near the top and redeemed our sad efforts, every one of them.

The Old Guy making us young guys look weak!

Rios Crack.

We ventured into the wind tunnel once more before finding solace in the cave of Pow Pow. All I have to say is: ‘Put the beer back in the fridge cause mama ain’t comin’ home tonight!’ What a sweet line! Jimmy made the obligatory ‘how do you do’ flash to jump start our two hour long entanglement with this problem. I refined and refined my beta until I was so worked that even after latching the ‘victory’ crimp I couldn’t lock it off to sweet victory. Thwarted again!! But I have to say, it’s a really good time hanging off of this refrigerator sized block. The adventure continues!!

A rare picture of the author crushing!!

With another sweet sesh under the belt we headed towards an even colder place, the Ice Caves. Brrrrrr. Were we mad? I should say NOT! We would have been mad NOT to go to the Ice Caves! Even though none of us climbed, save Jimmy, it was still cool to fully explore this Ali Babba hide out. Jimmy, eyes glowing red, set off on a wicked close flash ascent of Beef Cake, overloading the core just as his fingers began to curl around the last hold. He hopped back on and sent promptly so we could get the hell out of there and into the warm embrace of the Looney Bean.

That night we ate well at the Whiskey Creek Grill (third night in a row actually, due to the happy hour prices AMAZING!!) and sauntered about the streets of the sleepy town of Bishop. I came across a sweet bargain on a pair of used (just barely) five ten Anasazi Lace-ups (the white ones, now me and Dom can be shoe buddies! YES!!), while Kevin finally bought a pair of pants. We also caught a showing of the new Harry Potter flick (much better than ‘The Men Who Stare At Goats’) and readied ourselves for the wand waving good time with a pre-emptive strike on Rusty’s Saloon, where a rather ‘woodsy’ old man tried to hit on Kevin by explaining the difficulties of fighting off poisonous worms in an off width after receiving a flu shot. STELLAR night!

The Sads.

Thursday:

Wow, Thursday already?! We couldn’t handle the ever-encroaching truth that our once immortal-seeming adventures were now slowly decomposing to a close. With another blue bird on our shoulder we settled for a day at the Milks. Another warm-up sesh at the Beaten Donkey Wall (read: Iron Man traverse) had our forearms revving to go. Kev styled the campus version, showing us that even a ripped girl could piss on someone’s project (even if that someone was an 11 year old kid), and I showed everyone that flailing in style is better than just flailing.

Our warm-up led us back to the Buttermilker cave and I was staring down the barrel of a trip with zero sends so far, so I opted to hop on the softest thing I could think of: The Cave Route! With an imaginative name like that, how could it be sand bagged? I sent in a go or two and if asked I would recommend the line. It’s not particularly stunning or even that hard for a 6, but well worth doing. Team Olympia ended up running a train on this one as well and it was really cool to see Jeremy make the big move to the jug look easy. Kevin came super close to pressing out Gleaming the Cube, and before you knew it we were back at the base of Soul Slinger. I never did match my high point, but I got to watch like 4 or 5 tall guys float it like it was some POS warm up. Damn you genetics!!
The bulk of our crew floated on up the hill a ways to balance and crimp their way up Yayoi Right, a slabby tech climb that I shied away from. Olcay latched the rail at the lip but fell off after a foot pop, COME ON CHRIS!

Olcay on Yayoi Right.

I wish that I had Jesse's giiirrrll!

Kevy G on Yayoi Right.

The beautiful golden sun began to dip behind the mountains slowly and there we were. Along with 10 to 12 pads at the base of High Plains Drifter. Possibly one of the funnest climbs anywhere! My history with this line is long and protracted and a bit of a heartbreaker. Last year I flaked off the jug on my last day in Bishop and never got the send. As I gripped the starting holds I could feel the weight of history pressing down upon me (or maybe it was just my 175 pound stature?). It climbed just like I remembered it and after two burns I found myself gripped with terror and face to face with an icy 5.2 climb to the top of the boulder! The down climb wasn’t pretty and I could tell people were starting to ask each other if I belonged outside engaged in an activity such as this one. But, in the end I pulled off the send! YES! I spent the rest of the time snapping pics of the hordes of people that flocked to Bishop just to try this line. I also got some sweet footage of Olcay destroying the problem second go! Yeah CHRIS!

Big Diesel screaming in the scorching sun on the slippery arete of Popes Prow.

Aaawww, it's a boy!

I couldn't stand up because I was too scared...

The sun had gone and it was time to go…to the GET CARTER BOULDER! We made one last stop in the Baltic conditions of the evening in order for team Oly’ to sample one of Bishop’s finest: Seven Spanish Angels. I donned a poncho and a can of blue ribbon and sat about to try to capture everyone’s attempts.

Twin Cracks Left.

First: Kevin got it in two attempts, then Olcay flashed it (Come on CHRIS!), then Jeremy finally sacked up and stuck the sharp jug, then some dude Jimmy knew who was working the line with us sent (and took a chunk out of his finger),

and then like three more dudes arrived and flashed the line! My god, it was like watching the sacking of Troy! I was sure Derrick with his gangly long arms would have no problem but his down fall was sorting out his feet and the lack of a good stance thwarted his attempts to propel himself to the jug. It was still a mighty good day at the Milks and on top of that it was Thanksgiving!

Olcay latches the SSA jug on his flash attempt! C'mon ChrIIIISSS!

The Holiday led us to Vons (which is Californian for Safeway) and we bought beef, tortilla’s, and Makers Mark, oh my! The beef burrito dinner was a hefty one and the taco seasoning and salsa saved the day. We ate and drank and I think I killed like 14 or 15 marshmallows? Delicious. Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

Get Carter Boulder area.


The Short Necked Giraffe!

It was simply BALTIC at Get Carter.

The Quiet Renfroe.

Friday:
I lay in my tent and hoped for sleep to come and take me away. The sun was at full blast and its warmth permeated my tents membrane. I recapped the week in my mind and knew that today was it. Tomorrow morning we would be locked in asphalt combat; jaws slack, finger tips burning, eyes frozen in a penetrating stare that seemed to burn holes in everything and nothing at the same time. I lazily rolled out of my tent for what would be the last time this year. The ‘bad boys from Oly’ were already huddled around the morning fire making breakfast and talking about flashing the Mandala. I joined them and after a much dreaded break of camp we were back at the Milks. We headed off to find The Painted Cave, a brilliantly white V.6 that is a four star classic. It was an amazing line. Probably the best I got on all trip. It had superb thuggy moves out of a small roof, a giant hueco, and sharp slopers (paradox?). The sun was blazing directly on the crux top out but we didn’t care. The whole crew got in on some sloper slappin’ but a send was just not in the cards. I lost a lot of skin on the large grained granite jugs and slopers of this line and it was well worth it. Painted Cave, I salute you!

Reese on The Painted Cave.

Team Oly’ finally gave up after coming so close and we all continued our march to the lonely Solitaire boulder. We met up with long lost WRG employee and Seattleite (as well as boulder crusher and self-proclaimed KOAN) Sam Johnson! He was busy working the awesomely divine and gymnastically aesthetic Solitaire.

SJ squeezing juice!

We cushioned the landing with our massive amount of pads and set out to destroy what little power and skin we had left. Last year I was able to hit the second hold with consistency but I wasn’t able to do the first big move. This year I surprised myself by doing the first move but cheese grated off the last hold 3 times (in agony)!!! By the end, my fingers simply would not close on the last sloping crimp at the lip and I simply had to let it go (both the problem and the hold). Jimmy gave some valiant efforts on the low start doing all the moves right up to the last throw but was denied access to the top as well. Derrick came out of the closet surprising everyone and made the first move look like some V.0 choss pile but was also denied by the second big move. All in all, we chilled in the sun and made the best of this monstrous problem.
It was the last day, and you know what? It was time for a group photo of Team Oly’:

We slowly made our way back to the Buttermilks main area where Center Direct and Go Granny Go bared their teeth at us. My tips felt as if someone was making me wipe the ass of a porcupine after feeding it broken glass. They hurt! But that didn’t stop me from completely destroying what little pride I had left on Smooth Shrimp. Jimmy and Kevin laughed as I struggled to redpoint this boulder problem, both of them casually flashing it, but I fought to hold on only to realize someone was playing a cruel joke on me because each hold had razor blades and shards of glass superglued to them. Damnit! The down climb was no less epic. Jimmy and Kevin gave some amazingly close burns on Bubba Gump but it was just too cold, and our skin was just too thin.

he Finnish'er not finishing...

Ooohhh, look at those Irish guns!

Another shorty CRUSHING!!

Well, that’s it. We tucked our tails and hit up the Town House Motel, after an absurd meal at the Pizza Factory (due to our late arrival at Whiskey Creek). The trip ended in typical Oly’ style, parked comfortably in front of a tiny television sipping Red Stripe looking and feeling like a beaten prisoner awaiting trial.

The next day came and went as slowly as this day has and the oddities and contrasting differences between where I was three days ago compared to where I am now are maddeningly clear. I’m staring at an 8 foot long panoramic shot of the Buttermilks, framed nicely by the Sierra Nevada Mt. range, which I took last Thanksgiving. It’s ironically hung in my 8X10 cubicle in which I’m doomed to spend at least 40 hours a week in, in order to pay for another trip to Bishop. A carrot if you will, that spurs this down trodden donkey onwards in pursuit of regaining even the tiniest glimpse of what heaven on earth looks and feels like.

If I nod off in your presence, even as you begin to talk about the comings and goings of your life, it is only because I have slipped away to a place where time is forgotten, the food is plentiful, fire conversations are jocular, witty, and warm, and the mind’s eye is open so wide that all positive and negative aspects of life blend together to create a perfect mixture of time and space, the light of which is so intense that if one were to live there they would be blinded by the beauty of its profound existence. For this reason, it is only right to visit it occasionally, for the appreciation of such a world can only grow exponentially in this way.