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How was Goode? Inquiring minds want to know that too!

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Killer shades. Too bad the weekend forecast isn't so great.

Many many thanks to Dave Parker for hosting and to Dave, Feck, Doug, and Lane for climbing with me, not to mention Wayne for the Sisyphus suggestion. Fantastic weekend.

I did that descent in the dark once, and although I cannot fault your logic, I can also say that it was a climb I'll never forget.

Oh damn. Suzanne was a lovely person. RIP Suzanne and condolences to Dave and all her family and friends.

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Ha! Sounds like a great climb. Congrats on sending and on some entertaining writing.

Nice trip Feck! That couloir on Roosevelt looks sweeeet. Seems like it's been spring for a while already to me, given the abundance of sunny rock available this past month or so.

Oh damn it. I didn't know Dave well, but he was a good guy. Too many damn deaths this year. Everyone take care and condolences to all who knew Dave.

The "other" Mox trip report, if only for "I'm not happy until you're not happy." http://cascadeclimbers.com/forum/ubbthreads.php?ubb=showflat&Number=836613

Stellar trip; thanks Wayne. Sure made the rock I climbed in Leavenworth this weekend seem low angle!

Wayne, sent you an email.

Tell that to Mikey Schaefer!

Trip: Blouberg, South Africa - Something of Value/Last Moon/Moonraker Date: 9/10/2006 Trip Report: “Oh, fuck ME.” It’s 4 am. I’m holding the rock shoe I just unclipped from my backpack in preparation for the day’s climb. Shoe, in the singular. One. Shoe. Fuck! I’m in the bivy cave near the base of Blouberg, an amazing massif a 4-hour drive north of Johannesburg to the middle of nowhere, followed by a 4-hour hike on a maze of cattle tracks and unmarked foot paths. Bring your GPS. Better yet, bring a friend who’s been there multiple times AND a GPS. We left the car at 9 pm last night, arrived at a magical high grassland with the full moon shining on it at midnight (after seeing not one but *two* bush babies on the way in), and then it was an hour’s hike to the bivy cave, which could sleep 12 easily. The smallness of the climbing world is reinforced by the fact that the other two guys in the cave already have heard that there’s going to be a chick from the States climbing there that weekend. Blouberg My partner Graham, who I met almost 12 hours ago, asks if I want to go look for my shoe, but that’s pointless. Even if we find it, we’ll never get to climb. “I guess I’ll just try to climb with one alpine boot and one shoe. I don’t really see what else to do.” There are rap anchors at a grassy ledge atop pitch three, so we have the option to bail. Graham suggests taking one sleeping bag – there’s a bivy cave atop the fifth pitch, and that way even if we move really slowly due to my unconventional footwear we have the option to do the climb over two days. I guess we have a plan. It’s over an hour to the bottom of the route, with baboons screeching off in this distance, sounding like a pack of wild dogs coming to eat us alive. Dense white mist swirls around us like demons. Graham aids one move on pitch one, a burly 18, and with my one Mythos and one Trango S Evo, I aid two or three. The Trango climbs surprisingly well, but it's still kind of like climbing with a cast. The next pitch is my lead and it’s easier (16), but there isn’t a whole lot of pro and the routefinding is interesting, to say the least. I run it out to the grassy ledge, put an anchor in questionable rock, and bring Graham up, feeling a little sketched and doubting myself, as usual. So many reasons to bail: I’m a bit sick, the long hike in and little sleep have me feeling a bit strung out, the cold and socked-in weather, only one damn rock shoe, etc. etc. I waffle like a politician up for re-election. I look at the next pitch, the crux of the route. “It doesn’t look *that* heinous.” “It is,” Graham states with conviction. First Pitch of Last Moon Eventually I decide I should play it safe and bail; I’m just not sure I have it in me today. I immediately begin to regret. I hate bailing, even when I think it’s the right thing to do. As we eat and I rest longer and the weather improves, I grow convinced that I will regret this choice forever. In an attempt to make me feel better, Graham says, “Don’t feel bad, hardly anybody makes it up Blouberg on their first attempt.” Well fuck THAT. “Dude, we should just go for it.” Graham ignores me, whether because he doesn’t know me well enough to know I really mean it or because he doesn’t really want to continue with a whiny indecisive partner I’m not sure. I figure it must be the latter and say no more. We finish eating and it’s off to look for the rap bolts, me casting glances over my shoulder the whole time. The ropes are through the chains and through Graham’s belay device and he’s wrapping his prussik around the ropes. I feel it all slipping away from me. In desperation, I say, “Last chance, dude, do you *really* want to go down?” I’d rather he think I’m a ditzy flake than never get the chance to do this climb. He eyes me and kindly does not say, “What the fuck?” but just asks if I really want to do this, he’s fine either way. I say yes, I’m sure, and we mission off to the base of the third pitch, after wasting 2 hours on this ledge. No big deal though, there’s certainly more than enough time to climb three more pitches before dark. The first pitch off the ledge is indeed burly and Graham takes a big whipper on a small cam, but pulls through and I follow, feeling a bit desperate whenever I use my right foot. The next pitch has a groovy roof that I have a bit of trouble with until I ditch the pack for Graham to carry up. Poor guy. The last pitch before the cave is only 15 and I teach Graham the phrase “Fifteen my ass” as he tiptoes his way up it. The cave is super cool and the bivy is far from the worst night out I’ve had. The cave requires a bit of squirming to get into, and is just big enough for the two of us to lie shoulder to shoulder, and only high enough that the roof is about six inches above your face if you're lying down. It’s a cozy night, and in fact I’m warm enough to take off my jacket partway through the night. That never happens in Washington, even with a nice warm partner (which is the best thing to have on an unplanned bivy). The next morning I start things out with a 17 (5.9/10a) pitch, beginning with a 25-foot runout, then a corner with crap pro, then finally a couple of bomber cam placements before pulling the roof. It takes me several tries to figure out the roof, and I contemplate setting a belay and bringing Graham up and letting him do it, since he told me that’s what he did when he led this pitch before. But goddammit, it’s my job, I can do it. Right? As it turns out, I can, and I’m overjoyed in the sunshine at my clean lead. The topo says “awesome” next to the runout face climbing on this pitch, and it was indeed. Graham gets the Pitch of Death next – not hard, but no pro and a rising rightward traverse that would hurt you badly if you came off. Then a couple of brushy bushwacking sort of pitches and I get the final short steep slightly overhung face climbing on big holds to the top. Time Bomb Rock We enjoy the sun and Graham’s water stash on top, and are back to the packs by 3 pm. Graham says, “Well, we have time to walk out today. Or, there’s this really nice rock pool for swimming and we could have a fire and bivy another night, and go back Monday.” Hmmm, let me think. This is really a tough decision. The swimming is bone-chilling, the lounging in the sun is terrific, the scenery spectacular, the company excellent, the fire hot. The food leaves a little to be desired, but nothing in this world is perfect. Right now, though, I feel that life is about as close to perfect as I can stand. Route: Graham's pitches in red, mine in blue, grassy ledge in green. Gear Notes: Two rock shoes are good but not necessary. Approach Notes: Take a local who goes there every weekend and still consults his GPS constantly on the hike in. Eventually he will inform you, "I'm trying a new way this time."

super bad ass! thanks for posting that.

Actually as V's belayer that day I would like to say that she was doing exactly what Gadd advocates, as Dru points out. She downclimbed to rests, she clipped in and hung, she placed a ton of screws, she never came anywhere close to falling off. So crazy Polish Bob may not approve, but evidently Will Gadd would.

Nice trip! What are you doing in Tennessee? I highly recommend visiting T-Wall outside Chattanooga. Fantastic climbing there.

I take off my pack and sit on that. pretty much everyone I ski with does the same. And unless it's a stupefyingly warm spring day I pull out my puffy immediately and put it on.

Congratulations Jordan! Lethal alpine seduction; you never know where it's gonna lead.

three day ski clinic -- maybe if I'm lucky Feck will take me out next weekend and put my new skillz to the test.

The best alpine "sports bra" I have ever used is actually a swimsuit top, because unlike "real" sports bras, it's actually made of quick-drying material and isn't lined with cotton, but it's about to give up the ghost. Not sure what I'm going to do when that happens. When ice climbing I try if at all possible to strip down to skin and change once the approach is over; it makes all the difference in warmth/comfort for the rest of the day. For alpine climbing in general, if you're not too big you could try just going without, in general when alpine climbing I'm wearing a couple of layers and a jacket and you'd have to be a hell of a lot bigger in the chest than me for anyone to notice whether you're wearing a bra or not under all that.

I just got 'em for Christmas and I love them. My hands are always cold and they are so warm -- and for all of $25. oh, and I forgot to post the best pic from the Chair Peak circumnavigation:

Here are a few more pics. Thanks Feck and Dave for a great day out.

Strong work you two and nice pics. I love that one with the pink glow on the mtns. Way to take advantage of a gorgeous day. Nice having beers with you.