How can a guy top off a week of skiing, eating, libations and laughter with three of his best friends? He goes climbing! And in Bend, Oregon, Smith Rock is where you head in the winter. I met with my friends Ashley, Mollie, and Shauna who live in this amazing Central Oregon town. We spent 2 days at Mt. Bachelor, toured Shevlin park by way of trail running, sampled lots of great beer, woke up late for coffee meetings at local spots in funky brick-lined alleyways, dressed up for neon-bowling, wined, dined, danced, and laughed ourselves to death. Did I mention that it was a spectacular week?
Ashley had asked me to bring some gear with me. Since she’s starting to rock the local indoor bouldering scene at Bend Rock Gym, she wants to begin tackling outdoor routes. Sweet! One more bag of gear to shuffle into the pickup. So on Sunday morning, Shauna, Ashley, and I headed about 25 miles northeast of Bend over to Smith Rock State Park to scope the scene.
From the parking lot, it’s a short, scenic walk across the river to the two most popular sections of rock: The Dihedrals and Morning Glory Wall. We had belay school for a bit, and then hit a fun easy climb: Five Gallon Buckets (5.8), which consists of a tafoni-pitted rock face. We then moved to a 5.9+ route just left of the Peanut, a spot between Morning Glory and Dihedrals. The name escapes me, but it was a great climb forcing you to use some jamming, stemming and some teeny, crimpy little holds. What I noticed most about Smith is how well developed this wonderful climbing location is. Belay pads have been built with rock retaining walls, and in some spots there are beefy wooden stairs leading up and down the pathways, or directly up the rock to a belay. I was extremely impressed with the work they’ve put in there!
In Bend, you could literally ski Bachelor all morning, then head to the rock in the afternoon and have less than an hour commute between the two. Additionally, most of the climbing at Smith Rock faces south, which means you’re taking in the sun the whole time. The scene here on a warm day is pretty busy. Smith is definitely a popular location, but worth going because of the mellow vibe and beautiful view. And there’s so much climbing, that even with the weekend crowd, we were able to find climbs without waiting. There are plenty of routes on both ends of the difficulty spectrum. From 5.7 to 5.12 and above. How can you beat this in the middle of winter?
The Tahoe Mountain Sports Adventure of the Week blog series takes a walk, hike, ski, climb in someone else’s shoes, from pro athletes to local Tahoe adventurers. Let us know if you’ve got an adventure to share.
If it seems like we blog about bouldering around Bishop a lot here at Tahoe Mountain Sports, it’s only because we do. I made my first trip down in June, and Lis wrote about taking a break from the snow to boulder in the Buttermilks last December, where she found 70 degree weather.
Well, my buddies and I didn’t get as lucky as Lis, but we still had a blast in what has to be one of the best bouldering playgrounds in the world.
We left Tahoe Friday after work, which meant missing much of the scenery of the Eastern Sierra drive, only imagining the snow-capped peaks looming in the darkness around us. Snow flurries came and went from the cone of light projected from the headlights, leaving a sense of foreboding for our plans to camp that night.
And sure enough, when we got to our campground at 11 p.m., it was cold. Really cold. We lingered around the fire for as long as we could stand, and brought every scrap of clothing we had into our respective sleeping bags, our tents already coated in a crunchy shell of frost.
Evidence of a cold night's sleep.
The Buttermilk Boulders where crawling when we got down to them Saturday morning, parking turnouts packed with camper vans and shelled pickup trucks. We were both a little intimidated by the scene, and nonplussed by the blasting death metal coming from one car — but as always, the climbing community proved our fears false.
If there’s an unfriendly, elitist or territorial climber out there, I haven’t met them. Strangers pool crash pads, cheer each other on, and stand ready to spot one another within minutes, or even seconds of meeting. And as with last time, the rock didn’t disappoint.
Topping out with the Sierra Crest in the background (Photo by Matt Renda)
After our fingers, forearms and bound toes could take no more, we wandered the streets of Bishop, getting advice at local gear stores, grub at a local restaurant and of course bread at Schat’s Bakery.
Braced for another cold night, we boiled water for hot water bottles and bedded down. The hot bottle worked wonders, as did the fatigue of a day well spent, and I only woke once to hear the sound of snow softly falling on the nylon skin of my tent.
With possible showers forecasted for Sunday, we weren’t sure what to expect when we awoke that morning (with an extra hour thanks to the end of Daylight Savings!), but the sun was shining and a new-to-us climbing area was beckoning. We drove out to the table lands north of Bishop, and joined the conga-line of crash pad–backed climbers approaching the Happy Boulders.
Matt getting after it in the Happy Boulders
I now understand what climbing gyms are trying to emulate. There were intricate and interesting boulders stacked side by side as far as I could see, all with a dizzying array of jugs, huecos, pockets and edges. Despite still-protesting fingers and forearms, we were drawn up each route, tacking as many problems as we could fit into the time we had left.
But the open road beckoned — or more accurately, Mammoth Brewing Company and one of the many hot springs you can find along the way (or in this book). A resupply at the brewery and a good long soak in the hot spring while watching the sun set over the Sawtooths was the perfect ending to another amazing weekend in the Sierra.
As is evidenced by my posts on this blog, I like snow. But after more than 700 inches this winter, I had to get out!! Chris and I decided to spend the weekend in as close yet as warm of places as possible, so we chose Auburn and Sugarloaf for our getaways. Looking to do the same? Here’s the quick guide to ditching snow for sun during spring in Tahoe:
This was my first time mountain biking in Auburn and it was awesome! Great early season riding since the trails are so smooth and roll-y. We took the connector (4 miles one-way) into the Foresthill Divide Loop (11.3 miles) to add a little more length to the ride. It was the perfect amount of cardio and nothing too technical, so it was great for easing back into riding. Though I learned one important thing: don’t forget your padded bike shorts on the first ride of the season. Ouch! The trail is super popular so it was a bit crowded on our way in via the connector. I actually think we timed it well (leaving Tahoe at 9am) since our second half of the ride was less crowded.
SUNDAY: Sugarloaf, rock climbing
Sugarloaf, a bit farther than Lover’s Leap, is only a short 30-minute drive from South Lake Tahoe yet feels far away in climate. There are various aspects to climb here so you can essentially be in the sun all day if you want. The main Sugarloaf formation is beautiful, as pictured above, with Chris on Captain Fingers (5.12c). It’s a great spot for a crag dog too (as modeled below by Fern) but watch out for ticks. None this time, but she came home with a few after our last trip here.
The Tahoe Mountain SportsAdventure of the Week blog series takes a walk (or hike, surf, climb, bike) in someone else’s shoes, from pro athletes to local Tahoe adventurers. Let us know if you’ve got an adventure to share.
We are excited to hear from Tahoe resident and climber Chris Doyle today on our blog. He wrote up his story in response to all the stoke coming from The Love Letter project by Fitz and Becca Cahall, sponsored by Osprey and Outdoor Research. Fitz and Becca are former Tahoe residents who now live in Seattle, where Fitz runs his ever-growing empire of adventure-telling via Dirtbag Diaries and numerous other projects. When they set out on their 300-mile journey to find new and classic climbing routes across the spine of the Sierra, they called up Chris to meet up with them along the way. Here’s his story. Be sure to watch the film (embedded below), and write your own love letter on The Love Letter’s Facebook page.
If we’re talking in terms of love, I had bought the ring. The Sierra is known for perfect summertime weather. It’s got the best climate in the country for being able to make your plans a month before. You usually don’t have to worry much about things not working out because they usually do. There wasn’t a question in my mind when I left to meet Fitz and Becca that we weren’t going to do the route. It’s not too big or too hard; we were destined for a fun, good time. The Edge of Time on the Citadel was definitely going to say “yes.” Or so I thought.
I hadn’t hung out with my old climbing buddy Fitz in a long time. You know, he moved to Seattle, started spending lots of time with his phone, became a legit Dirtbag… So when I got the call that they were heading my way on their big trip and I should join them, I didn’t hesitate. We analyzed their timeline, picked a couple dates and places where they hoped to be, thought about spots I hadn’t been — somewhere that’d be a new adventure for both of us.
I like to go to routes that are off the beaten path, ones away from the road that a lot of people don’t climb. I’d always heard the Edge of Time on the Citadel was a really good route, the timing was right, and Fitz was fired up to make it happen. So it was settled, I would drive the 4.5 hours from Tahoe, hike the 16 miles in, and see my trail-worn friends. We’d meet far out in Kings Canyon, their tired arms reaching out to greet me, me fully stocked to stoke them out. I’d packed a nice, boxed wine, some fine cheese they requested, and the fixings for the finest dinner these backpackers would see in all their 300 miles.
I set off the day before our scheduled rendezvous. The plan was to get my wilderness permit that afternoon, then drive up to camp at South Lake where it’s nice and cool. I’d go to sleep, get up early, and hike in. Which is what I did. I just happened to get food poisoning somewhere along the way. My mellow evening turned into four hours of puking on the side of the road at South Lake. The next morning I was pretty worked from the up chuck, and not having eaten any dinner. But it was nice out, and I was destined to see my friends. Puke and rally.
I got brutalized right off the bat. The six or seven uphill miles at the beginning of Bishop Pass (11,972 feet) didn’t help my condition. My stomach was shredded. Some 15 miles later, I made it to within a mile our meeting spot. I had only seen a few other souls out that day, but then two park rangers appeared. As soon as I got within speaking distance, one said, “Hey are you Chris Doyle?” (Strange.) “Yep.” “Well your friends got sick and hiked out yesterday evening. So they’re not here to meet you.”
OH the AGONY! 15 miles in. So close. And now this? Apparently Fitz’s phone didn’t have reception until it was too late to warn me. So there I stood. With no partners to tackle the route, no one in sight but the rangers, I turned around and set up camp by a set of nice lakes in Dusy Basin. Alone. But I made the most of it. And I don’t regret a step. I took a great hike, had a beautiful camp all to myself… any time, no matter how heart-breaking, is well spent in the High Sierra. Sadly though, thanks to my food-poisoned stomach, I couldn’t fully enjoy the gourmet meal I packed, but it probably wouldn’t have tasted that good anyway. Like the wise Charlie Brown once said, “Nothing takes the taste out of peanut butter quite like unrequited love.”
The view from my camp in Dusy Basin
A month or so later, Fitz, Becca, and I were going to give it another go, this time at the Pharaoh, north of Yosemite. They called me from Twolomne Meadows. The weather had shut us down; they had to hike through a burly snowstorm. Sometimes you have to let love go. Sometimes adventures don’t love you back. Sometimes you get the Sierra bitch-slap.
“Woah, it’s a powder day at the Buttermilks,” Chris said, stunned at the number of cars we saw lining Bishop’s Buttermilk Road. With temps reaching 70 degrees and nothing but sun in the sky, last weekend was the perfect time to be bouldering in Bishop, California. And apparently, we weren’t the only ones who got the memo. There were maybe 100 people out there, with Lisa Rands, Charlie Barrett and Beth Rodden headlining, and tons of video cameras and SLRs out of their bags.
We met up with a few friends. Chris and Jay worked on Fly Boy and a few other problems, but in general we just kept it mellow enjoying the sun and scene. As the sun was setting we stopped by the crowd gathering around Charlie Barrett, who was about to make, what most think, the second ascent of Saigon Superdirect, what Wills Young calls “one of the proudest highballs at the Milks” on the Bishop Bouldering Blog. See Young’s post on Barrett’s Saigon Superdirect ascent for a cool photo… Chris is at the photo’s bottom spotting him.
On our way out, our dog, Fern, tried to eat a photographer; I think it was the guy making this cool timelapse video of the day.
On Sunday, Chris and I wanted to get away from the crowd. We took a trail run up the canyon (nothing better than wearing shorts and a t-shirt with snow-capped peaks all around you), then headed up to the Pollen Grains. We set up shop at the Lidija Boulder, where Chris got on some classic problems like Lidija’s Mouth, Drone’s Militia and Suspended in Silence.
We will definitely be making the drive from Tahoe again this winter… can’t beat wearing flip-flops in December. Bouldering in Bishop is definitely a great way to get away from winter, especially when the skiing isn’t its best like last weekend. Bishop bouldering is at its peak November through April, so get it while it’s good, too!
This Adventure of the Week comes from a hand more than 5,000 miles away in Paris, France. TMS friend and former Tahoe local Anya Miller Berg and her husband picked up and left their Seattle homestead for a 5-month stint in France. An avid boulderer, Anya shares with us here a recent excursion to Magic Wood in Switzerland.
Paris, Zurich, Chur. Our sights were set on the Averstal Valley in southeast Switzerland, home to Magic Wood, a much-talked of and quite-distant bouldering spot. After leaving Chur, things quickly became much more rural. A train took us only as far as Thusis (TOO-sis), where Charlie and I stammered around a bit to find the appropriate bus and happened upon it quite quickly: Andeer, here we come. Gunning it up a steep and narrow valley the giant yellow bus we went. Those things are driven like supercharged wagons! Deposited in Andeer, we only had one more bus ride to get to Ausserferrera. So we waited.
We strolled around Andeer with all of our junk, found an ATM and got some food and drink for a few days of bouldering. The bus finally came and the driver hopped off, took one look at our crash pad and said “Mageek Woot?”in a heavy German accent.He clearly didn’t speak any English, but he knew where we wanted to go and that was good enough for us.
We hopped off right in front of the Gasthaus Generoso, the biggest building in this village with a population of 47. Inside a very traditional Swiss house, we checked in with the owners and were given a key to the non-descript building next door. I was a little disappointed: I wanted some authentic Swiss atmosphere! My worries were quickly put to rest… Charlie and I walked into the building and realized that it was the coolest place we had ever stayed. The building had been built about four years ago by the Swiss government for the use of the town to generate tourism (mainly from boulderers, ice climbers and hikers coming to the valley). The design seemed to be a governmental standard for the mountains … it could have sat anywhere: it was so unbelievably durable, functional, sparse, but somehow still warm and comfortable. Classic Swiss. Dinner was being served at 8h30 sharp (everything really is on time in Switzerland), so we had a few hours to get out to see the boulders and climb. Good thing I had bought a watch in Chur.
Across the road and down the hill was a flowing turquoise river and a footbridge. We crossed over, literally and figuratively, into what really was a magical wood … a centaur came out and greeted us, there were faeries and nymphs, and a unicorn shook its mane and munched around on some lush grass in the distance. Not really, but almost. The light was soft and dim but still golden and the rocks were just all jumbled … kind of like Chaos Canyon in RMNP but placed in Washington, so there was moss all over everything. Luckily, the problems were clean in the midst of all of the vegetation. The gneiss was steep, tall, coarse and most problems generally had horrendous landings. A bit of a rude awakening after the kind stone and flat landings at Fontainebleau. All of them seemed beautiful, serious, and enchanting! We got over our fears and climbed a few tall moderate problems, walked around the forest, and got excited for the following day…
