I can’t stop looking at this amazing photo, wondering what it will be like to climb in this foreign land, experiencing what may be the world’s most incredible bouldering mecca. It’s almost time people. Time for the ultimate adventure…
Photo by Keith Ladzinski
So many boulders, so little time.
…or not?
A short 4 day trip here wasn’t enough…
What’s a Tucson boulderer to do with a 4-day weekend? Head to Bishop of course!
Paul and I flew back east for our family “Thanksgiving” two weekends ago, so this weekend was treated like any ‘ol weekend for us. Only this weekend, we had FOUR whole days off from work. And like many of the 4-day weekends prior, we decided yet again to make the grueling trek up to the east side of the Sierra Nevadas to squeeze out 2.5 precious days of Bishop bouldering. 12 hours of driving (each way) for only two and a half days of climbing? Is it really worth it? I’d like to say that we are sane and logical human beings and we ask ourselves this question each time we decide to make this heinous trek. But we don’t. We just go.
Thursday afternoon, Thanksgiving Day, finds myself, Paul and ‘lil brown dog Morgan bumpin’ along in our Sportsmobile van up the washboard dirt road toward the Buttermilks. Our tick lists – which we feverishly scratched down the night before (if you’re me) or 2 weeks before (if you’re Paul) – are packed with more climbs than can usually be ticked in a whole two weeks. And, well, since we have a mere two days, we best be gettin’ to the business.
Our first stop is the Pollen Grains. It’s around 2ish and we have just enough time to go find this amazing looking line we’ve seen in photo after photo. High, technical, not too hard and thin: Jedi Mind Tricks, v4. Paul promptly eats this little morsel up with an onsight and declares it his all-time second favorite v4 ever (Moonshine Roof at Hueco holding the first place position, OF course). I pass on this one. Too high for me today! We then start making our way up to The Beekeeper’s Apprentice, but the steep face of the Honey Boulder sucks us in and we boulder on it until dark. Paul quickly ticks Cindy Swank, v7 and Finder’s Fee, v9. I come pretty darn close on Cindy Swank but then darkness closes in and we call it quits.
Friday is a Happies day. Our mission this day is two lines: Slow Dance, v10 for Paul and Gleaner, v6 for me. Paul spends about an hour linking up the moves of Slow Dance very nicely, but there’s not enough time to pull it together for a send today. On next to Gleaner. After chillin’ in the cold Slow Dance cave with Paul, I thought I’d need some time to warm up a bit on Gleaner before giving it some sending attempts. I think wrong and quickly tick it. Woo!
Originally we had planned on climbing at the Buttermilks on Saturday. However, since we had such an awesome time at the Pollen Grains two days prior, we decided to head back. Turned out to be a great decision because we basically have all the boulders to ourselves on this busy holiday weekend. After some less-than-stellar grainy, slabby, scary warm-ups, we throw our pads under the classic roof of the Beekeeper Boulder. I work on the Beekeeper’s Apprentice, v5. No send – a little burlier than I had anticipated! Or maybe I’m just tired – yeah that’s it, haha. Paul shows me how it’s done and then some – ticking off all the rest of the climbs under the Beekeeper roof. Fun little session. After a few more Pollen Grains classics and some more sending go’s from me on Cindy Swank, we declare our muscles and tips total toast.
With a couple more hours of daylight, we finish off the day – and the trip – with a hike up to the Bardini Boulders to check out The Maze of Death, v12 and to admire with dropped jaws, the monolith highball This Side of Paradise, v10. Dwarfed under the massive Bardini Boulder, with the vast Sierra Nevadas behind us, the multitude of Buttermilk boulders in front of us, and the canyons holding the still more Happy and Sad boulders off in the distance, we pretty much decide right then and there that a 4-day weekend at Bishop is *not* enough. There are too many boulders we want to climb! Too many projects we dream of sending! We’ve been making these short little jaunts up to these boulders for 4 years now. And in these 4 years, the wish list has grown pages longer than the tick list. The realization sinks in. It’s time to start setting our sights on a real Bishop roadtrip. Soon.
posted by arr
Early evening on Saturday, May 12, 2007 a small group of family and friends gathered amidst the boulders of the Buttermilks to witness the marriage of a good friend of our’s, Linda, to her very special person, Jay. And what a fine wedding it was indeed.
Paul, Morgan and I traveled to Bishop, California this weekend for Linda and Jay’s special day. It was a long haul, yes, for such a short visit. But it was totally worth it. The wedding was absolutely picture perfect and we were psyched to have gotten to share it with them and their family and friends.
We arrived in Bishop on Friday afternoon and, you guessed it, headed straight for the boulders. We opted for the Happies, hoping to clean up a couple quick projects. Alas, no sends though – we’re blaming the lack of sleep and heat, haha. Friday evening Linda and Jay treated all the wedding guests to dinner at their favorite little mexican restaurant, Taqueria Las Palmas. Yummy. Afterwards, Paul and I headed up the incline to camp at Rock Creek, where some beautiful granite boulders awaited us and where the real fun of the weekend was about to begin:
Saturday. Wedding Day! Hooray! Paul and I have been nominated to be in charge of the wedding flowers. After a few quick peeks at the boulders we embark upon our mission. We’ve got 3 pairs of scissors and 3 bright orange Home Depot buckets of water. And I’ll admit it: we are shamelessly psyched to chop every last wildflower down in the Eastern Sierra Nevada. Just for Linda and Jay.
H o w e v e r. There’s just one little teeeeeny tiiiiiny problem. NO flowers. Anywhere. We heard it had been a dry winter in Bishop, but here we stand at Rock Creek amongst the pines at 8500 feet, so there has to be SOME flowers SOMEWHERE, RIGHT?! No. None. Zip. Zilch.
Paul and I quickly slip in to slight panic mode. We try heading up to higher elevation. Nothing. So we turn around and head down, hoping that we missed the meadows of wildflowers on the dark drive up the night prior. Nope. We’re wrong. Again, nothing.
Ok, panic mode is now elevating. Time for Plan B. We start hacking down sage. We start hacking down brown, dead stuff. We start tossing giant pine cones into the van. We’re hoping, praying that this all might beautifully accent the one wildflower that we’re BOUND to find. Somewhere! Anywhere?
Nowhere.
We descend back towards town and our spirits are low. “This ain’t back East” where the daffodils grow like weeds, thick clusters out of the mucky mud. This is the no kidding high desert in a drought. Brown, brown and more brown. We pull off to the side of the road and start hacking some bushes with little tiny pale yellow flowers. These will have to do. Paul and I get back in the van and take a look at our stash, trying to picture what a hacked bush branch lying next to a beautiful homemade wedding cake might look like. Natural. Yeah, natural. Yeah, it should look ok. Yeah. RIGHT.
We’re cruising now into the outskirts of town. I point out a stream over yonder in hopes that the green lushness around it might offer some wildflowers. We skirt the stream. No. Nope. None here. DAAAAMIT we yell to the cows in the pasture. We give up. Ok, let’s head to town and drop these off. Time is starting to run short and we realize we ought to now be concerned with just getting to the wedding, let alone getting the flowers to the wedding.
“Hold up! Stop the van!” I scream while tapping frantically on the window toward a pasture full of cows. “LOOK!”
The oasis AT LAST. An entire field filled with pretty purple and white lily sort-of-things with long lush green stems. Perrrrfect for the cake flowers.
We hit the breaks and pull off to the side of the dirt road, the raging dust cloud engulfing us. Paul jumps out and sprints across the road. He hops the barbed-wire fence and bolts out into the field, dodging piles of manure and throngs of buzzing bees. The cows start moo’ing loudly. Morgie and I keep watch, stealthily, from the van, prepped for a quick getaway in case a grouchy cowboy w/ chaps and a shotgun rolls up on ma piece and starts questioning why my husband is out there crouched down amidst the manure in his field.
Well, no cowboys today and these flowers are ours. Or shall I say, Linda and Jay’s. “Woohooo!!!!!!” we yell, as we speed into town. Mission accomplished.
The end of this wedding day found the bride and groom beaming bursting smiles among loving family and friends. Flowers or no flowers, nothing was going to spoil this day. Even so though, weddings always seem to have that special little magical way of working out just perfectly. Thank you, Linda and Jay, for letting us be part of the fun. 🙂
This Memorial Day we had a long 4 day weekend off from work so we decided to pack the Subie with 4 adults, 1 dog and a crapload of gear and zoomed the 12 hours to Bishop, California. It was myself, Paul, my sister Holly and her boyfriend Joe (who will also be staying with us for the summer), and lil brown dog Morgan of course. Also, please don’t let me forget, our Sherpa Courtney who also joined up for the trip. He drove himself and met us there and was sweet enough to stash 4 of our crashpads in his vehicle. Thanks Courtney!
Thursday evening we hit the road and made it to Barstow, CA around 3am. We were aiming to stay at some KOA we saw on a map but somehow stumbled upon this rundown campground in a ghost town. Really! Calico Ghost Town: It’s an old deserted silver mining town that was re-vamped for tourism back in the 50’s. As we were setting up camp (at 3am) and nice little old ranger drove up to our site. Tainted by the strict rules of Hueco, I automatically assumed he was here to a) yell at us for coming into the park so late, b) yell at us for letting Morgie run around without a leash on, and then c) yell at us cause we didn’t drop our money into some pre-pay drop box or something. However, to my surprise this kind man did none of the above. He actually commented on Morgan being a “fine looking animal” and said to don’t worry about paying him until the morning, after we get a good night’s rest. Ahh, this was going to be a good trip. 🙂
We awoke around 7am, ate breakfast and decided to have a look at the ghost town. Our campground fee included entry into the town, so we said why not. It was actually pretty cool. Then it was off to Bishop.
Got into Bishop late afternoon on Friday and chilled a bit in town. Then we headed up to the Buttermilks and found ourselves a stellar camping spot overlooking the Peabody boulders with the snow-covered mountains in the background. Absolutely beautiful.
The temps were rather mild – much cooler than usual for this time of year – and there was rumer of some high winds that were due to rip through town the next day. Well, the winds started picking up right around the time we were trying to cook dinner Fri night. Pleasant gusts at first….then kinda annoying gusts….then really annoying gusts. We all ate about a pound of dirt that night with dinner.
Exhausted from all the driving, and anxious to get away from the wind, we all hit the sack somewhat early. By this time, however, the wind was already ripping through the mountains like a bat out of hell. Now this wasn’t just the kind of wind that if you try hard enough, you’ll eventually fall asleep and tune it out. Oh no. Not this wind. Ooooohh no sir. As I am laying wide awake in my sleeping bag, trying to ignore the snow-globe of dust that was the inside of our tent and drowning out thoughts of how much dust could one actually breathe in before it made one sick, plugging my ears with my fingers to both a) gain some relief from the loud howls of wind and b) keep the dust out, and did I forget to mention getting wacked in the face every 10 minutes by the ceiling of the tent as it heaved and flopped and hoping, almost praying that the next gust wouldn’t tear a gaping hole through the flimsy nylon walls, …..I am wondering to myself….wow, this must be exactly like how it is on Everest!! Except just replace the snow with dirt!
After 3.5 hours of this nonsense, Paul said “THAT’S IT – we’re moving to the car.” I’m not sure how, but Paul and I and Morgan managed to squish into the back end of the Subie. Cramped? VERY. But boy, once we closed those doors, it was like being in an airtight vault. I never slet so sound.
The next morning we all awoke, brushed off the dirt, and made our way to the Happy Boulders. Our original plan had been to spend the entire trip up at the Buttermilks, but the wind had only temporarily let up and the temps were dropping. The Happies were calm and cozy. This was a first-time bouldering day for Holly and Joe and they did great! Noteworthy sends of the day go to Courtney on the highball classic Heavenly Path v1, Paul on Pappachubby v8, and Joe on Corner v0 (who loved it so much he repeated it!).
Sunday morning the group split up into our own mini-adventures: Myself, Paul and Morgan headed toward the Buttermilk boulders. Joe and Holly went up into the mountains in search of the white stuff (both are crazy addicted snowboarders/skiers). And Courtney also headed up in elevation to solo traverse this ridge he was eyeing.
For Paul and I, no big sends, but wow did we get on some classics boulder problems – including Saigon (v7) for me and The Checkerboard (v8) for Paul.
Joe and Holly found some of their beloved snow, and I’m sure rolled and frolicked in it to their heart’s content.
Courtney, however, got shut down on his adventure. Not by the ridge, but by a nasty headcold that was creeping upon him. Too much dirt in the lungs for that boy. Oh well, nothing a little hard whisky can’t fix (compliments of Courtney’s friend Linda who met up with us later in the day). Thanks to Linda and her whiskey, we all got a little wild as the night rolled on – cooking up massive amounts of fahitas and chillin’ to the good ‘ol Dr. Dre of course.
Monday morning we all rolled out of the tents, packed up and headed into town to have breakfast at the Bishop Grill. A quick stop for some Eric Schaat’s Bakery treats, big cups of coffee, and then we were back on the road headed home. All in all, a great trip indeed.
We made it back from a long weekend in Bishop! It was cool, literally! Details tomorrow…
Paul and I (and Morgan!) decided to head up to Bishop, California for a 4-day weekend of bouldering.
We left after work on Thursday evening and blasted up to Mt. Charleston outside of Vegas to camp at the brrrrr elevation of 7500 feet. Silly us decided to leave our sleeping bags at home – anticipating warm Bishop weather – and just slept with a comforter. Whoops. Brrrrrrrrrr.
On the way to Bishop the following morning, we decided to side-trip it to Death Valley, since I had never been. Giving up a 1/2 day bouldering for a hot dusty tour of the lowest point in the US sounded appetizing given that we had each downed about 10 cups of coffee the night before and froze our butts off in the tent. Ahhh, hot desert ahhh.
