ivan Posted January 9, 2014 Share Posted January 9, 2014 Trip: Rouge Rocks - The Scarab Scuttles South Date: 12/28/2013 Trip Report: "so, the seattle-dane, in days gone by, had heart-break and malice aplenty he knew what wicked magic this weather plays hard-upon the harp-springs of the soul when clouds grow fat on fools' tears and the tides of time tear at the moorings of this, our most maligned season" for time past counting, pat and i had ample reasons to want to ambul-fuckoff away from this cursed region for a mort of a long-spell, too many i assure you to go into now and many of them of course still on-the-books, as the bastard-kapos would contend, and thus inadvisable to utter in so common a clutch of freaks as this - foul weather, fouled lines connecting us to the Others, the sun grown dim and thin as the souls the Shaved Men foisted upon us when we were too weak to resist so a plan was shaped and blotted out and reset again - to sail south in this new contraption of his, a great amber Scarab - to scuttle over the silent frozen floors of our great western desert, to descend like a scabrous infestation upon Campganistan and its outlying districts, to scamper upon sandstone until fickle fate or more fleeting-still fortune shoved us off, even as men wrecked upon a sand, to the debasement of our Seasonal Affective Disorders christmas came and went as fast as grandpa after his "sevensies" - good times for sure, board games and shenanigans with the little ones for awhile - fine wine and board of fare, so rare it seems in september and else-when - a trip to silverton with the family to the brother's country estate to brood with cattle and goats on st. stephen's day and after - dogs dashing about the pastures, plunging in and out of the seasonal pools - a creditable display of canine capers - baby niece growing up quick, tow-headed and portending a terrible wrath when future-vexed i fear then xmas was 2 days gone by and it was tvash the man at my doorstep and the Big Trip upon us - we clapped a rocket-box to the roof of his rather remarkable rig, stuffed it full of shining war-gear and camp-clutter, then retired for a quick Sampling of the Road-Candy and red-eyed nap of a few hours before casting off how to encapsulate an 18-hr shifting of space and deportment? a slow birth, bitter in the first few hours, when fog-shrouded near idaho - Inside the Ping-Pong Ball - 40 mph the best i could do, pat snoring away as i sweat out the guilt of my impending death - but soon enough the sun rises, the hoar-frost of the thorough-fare gleans like quicksilver, pat takes the helm and holy-shit aMMMMMerica music raises my spirits immensely - we blunder down through the land of the famous potatoes, pierce nevada, stopping as regular as rain for petrol n' pestilential prole-fare, savoring it though - endless cups of coffee, snatches of naps strangely when they finished - my final stretch of road a doozy - the 2nd night of my day, the road ruler-straight and the speed-limit a very immaterial reality coming upon vegas at night out of the northern desert! the shaft of the luxor laser-beam a bold truck-stop beacon to the broiling masses of aliens rambling by this particular reach of the cosmos - the countless forlorn lamps of the city culminating into One Great Glow - the totality of its lights like the spread legs and bedazzled titties of a tin-lady, all leisurely stretched out n' summoning you in but not for us was this to be - we hit that atavistic cluster-fuck like a comet bouncing off the atmosphere, glancing out west and back into the desert - off to the red rocks and all that it offered - the campground was stuffed, so sad, so we settled for that night, and indeed everyone after, with must crude supplements, cast out into the arid, frozen waste to make common-cause with scorpions n' meth-tailings n' the brickabrac of countless desert-washes and dried-up hope - shit, we feasted upon it, incorporated it - Made it Home Again! sunday commenced our red-rocks-fest, which contained in total: day 1 - birdland on the the brass wall day 2 - tunnel vision on the angel food wall day 3 - solar slab, classic route day 4 - horndog/sundog on the solar slab day 5 - beulah's book/sunflower on the solar slab day 6 - calico hillz clambering for a half day, then head on back the scarab at dawn - burgundy for breakfast after a long day of fasting - we packed n' dined n' i smoked incessantly, hepped up on a hazy desert-vibe mescalito n' the brass wall, where we broke off for our first adventure, expecting crowds but too excited at the sunshine n' the pleasant short walk to be displeased the base of birdland, parties all over it like pederasts on playgrounds after lights out - the first pitch a varnished slice of the hereafter after all that traveling pat at the top of p1 we chased the crowd on up the route, reveling in the radiation of our fair high-cousin, helios - pat on p2 atop p3 confusion came down w/ parties still coming up even as others rapped down through us, ropes all entangled and cluster-fucked - eventually we tagged the top too and started our descent, finding, oddly, that our 70 meter rope really seemed more like a 60, requiring unstoner-friendly downclimbing to each anchor - pat managed to make peace w/ his predicaments as we took in the pleasures of sharing stone w/ felicitous femmes we had in mind that next day a trip to windy peak, which i hadn't visited my previous pilgrimage - we trundled over dale and desert wash before winding up lord knows where and settled down to nap for the night - the frigid rising sun found us rather uncertain as to where even the peak we wanted was located, how best to get there, and even if we had enough daylight so near the solstice to salvage the inevitable loss of time due to all that cluelessness - we figured on just returning to the dog-damned loop and taking a look at the angel food wall tunnel vision on the angel food wall we were in a rude state and rambled along, me heel-hurt n' broody - pat pushing ahead to reckon the way - we ended up a bit bewildered, frustrated at shitty pictures n' directions, but eventually found the right place p1 a bouldery delight just 10 feet off the ground - it was pat's lead n' he hemmed n' hawwed awhile before dispatching it w/ poise, whereupon i cleaned his one cam and he proceeded sans rope-drag following p1 a debacle for me, with gear raining off my gear-loops like aluminium hail as i ratcheted meself into a claustrophobic chimney-section - ultimately i had to lower all the way to the ground to recover two pieces and thus got to climb the pitch twice p2 was ho-hummish and easy, but pat's p3 a no-nonsense unprotectable chimney or a 5.8 alternative - he had the later, and i can't imagine anyone doing elsewise p4 was very fun and riotously easy, after escaping a short chimney w/ a roof, a ramble up an amazingly featured face, eschewing an ugly crack who's protection was utterly unnecessary once out on the big huecos - it dumped me onto a pleasing ledge just below the infamous tunnel-pitch, and in time to see yet another desert-shiela wiggling her pleasing girl-shape on up into the dusky shadows pat on p5 - quite easy n' great fun by headlamp i did 6, hard on the heels of our new friends, they in a rush to enjoy their first red-rock route sans a post-dark stumble-off - we had a snack and a smoke and a smile and started down ourselves pat on top a stimulating down-clamber, rarely just simple walking - a bit hard on my mangled soles in climbing shoes, but what i deserve for my sins for certain pat getting in touch w/ the Mother-Ship on the dusty walk out - we had chores to settle afterall - he to find a fine scion dealership to Cast Away the Demons, me to finagle a new pair of 5.huge climbing shoes to replace the ones that had me big toes all bulging out through the seams - it worked wonderfully, both our needs met in 20 minutes and time still to stop by the baja fresh for a dos manos motherfucker this night was new years eve eve, and in our endless search for new dirt-bag camping, we slouched into a strip-dozed doozy of a wasted, soon-to-be-developed stretch of desert just west of town - streetlights diminished the ambiance of busted glass and blown-up fireworks, but it was late and freezing and we settled into the shade of a big boulder and made it work - round midnight some scantily clad teenie-boppers made an appearance and i started hooting our approval, but was roundly silenced by the Man new years eve dawned bright and true, and we played at words w/ a most fashionable bum, jeff, who happened on our hobo-camp in the crepuscular glow - he was clad in the livery of a bellagio bell-hop, and his plastic cane and safeway bag really set a scene of comic delight, done one better by his railing against corporate overlords and promises to monkey-wrench-gang-this-mother-fucker-come-midnight! all that shade the day before made us determined to visit the solar slab, maybe leave all our shit out there and keep coming back until it was time to go i'd done it before, but enjoyed it so much it seemed a great warm-up - johnny vegas! pat following p2 as i cooled me heels, not so smitten w/ the new shoes pat on top of the first tier somewhere shy of 420 - mt wilson goading us to return someday and be Real Men like last time the upper tier was cock-blocked ten ways to sunday, but we still got in all but the last half pitch before heading back down pat finishing the first pitch of the upper tier we managed to get back before the cop-o's got pissed at our late departure - we heaved out into the way-back hills and settled into a discreet wash, me to build a mini-fire out of our waste papers n' howl at the fresh fingernail moon my new year's philippics - i guzzled budweisers n' sucked down camels and generally forgot all about dinner in my ebullience for my sins i was a wee-bit hung-over on new years day, but whatever - we waddled back down the way to our cached packs and took up The Russian's suggestion - horndog/sundog - pat impaled himself shifting our shit from one base to another, and there were some hard feelings n' Bad Signs for certain, but hey, here we are! base of horndog - not such a trade-route it seems - no fixed anchors, big old sketchy holds in some parts, a rather ramble-fuck traverse atop p1 i got p1 and ended up a little waylaid after the technical crux, no idea where to end the pitch nor even where we were going from there, there being no chalk nor obvious signs of passage, and the whole wall rather uniform and uninspiring eventually i found something that seemed rightish and built an anchor of ill-fitting horizontal cams and brought old-boy up p2 a joy, jugging on up big old varnished holds to an arching easyish finger-crack - we had lunch at the big slab up there, then shifted the belay to the base of 3, a blast fo'shiz, though sadly lacking the 5.8 slab predicted on the topo for the top next was moving the shit-show up to the base of the route on the upper tier - we didn't hold out much hope for making the true top as the day was waning and our wall already in the shade took some time to find the single bolt showing our line true, but then it was easy rambling on super-varnished goodness - pat on p1 p2 had some thought-provoking bits but not so bad and i was eager for what would have been the last pitch, but the jig was up and we had to fly back down - woulda made the car in good time but, waylaid by darkness in the solar slab gully rappels, both of us managed to lose the proper rap station halfway down - eventually we resolved to rap off a small tree, but even as pat disappeared into the gloom i gasped to see there, just 3 feet away in the pissant glow of my weak-ass headlamp, the very fucking rings we'd searched for our last full day to climb and we were back to the solar slab, this time intent on buelah's book and the sunflower pat's turn, he got p1, after we waited in line a bit and i breakfasted on budweiser and black tobacco p2 was everything i wanted it to be - a lovely lass to drink in w/ mis ojos as i Overcame the Fear of the wideness, settling on the arete instead - it went smoothly, feeding me back into the wonder-fuck of the steep lie back exit crack pat on p3, easy but ill-protected and w/ grand views - the sun insensible n' schizophrenic, darting in and out of the contours of mt wilson walking up to the sunflower, just right of solar slab proper and still int he sun at right - an alternative every bit as wonderful as that clibm's 1st pitch p2 of sunflower the creme de la creme, and a fantastic link-up w/ buelah's - friendly 5.9 and good gear, the only regret being that our later start (plum missing the parking lot, requiring a complete repeat of the loop) and the long lines didn't leave us time to finish the route, nor wander up higher as the first belay made it clear there weren't going to be rap stations to allow only a partial ascent our final night spent noodling in the washes once again - pat played chef quite capitally - i read and rued the day when we had fire hard at hand - the morning come and coffee supped up by the earliest time we'd yet managed, we winged back to the outskirts of the vegas-world to look for showers but were steeply disappointed, me finding comfort at least in the crappy cans of coors i still had along to the calico hills for some smokes n' some scrambling in the sun i find a diving board to devote my banalities to we made it to the mesa-top n' made our lunch in site of the scene of our weeks' cavorting the dregs of red-rocks and our final moments before heading back deep into the western wastes of Interstellar Space a fun drive back starting that afternoon - the black wabbit wun amuck - predator drones dancing in play-labs just north of las vegas signs to shame you signs to please you n' signs to tease you that's nevada for you - ever the same vistas - the road straight as the sinner's path to peril - the shoulders non-existent - the promise of sudden death Sweet and Now a frozen, frosty, forlorn night it was by the time we made the oregon border, north of winnemucca - we set up shop in a frigid field n' bedded down, me after sucking down my forty, forbidden as beer was on the road 730 AM, 17 degrees, 70 mph "we can't stop here, this is basque country!!!" a pop-in to the parents in redmond on saturday afternoon - cold beers, hot showers n' fresh chili - bullshitting, car-cleaning, then off again and home by evening to binge on boxed wine, to feel the wonder of a warm room and a soft-bed, a willing-woman and a fleeting wish for this hibernal vacation to hie along awhile longer, if it please! "hear me, half-lords! let there be more vegas adventures in my time to come - let me die not now in this dismal country, but creep one time more at least to that land of lizard-ladies with their darkening tattoos ..." Gear Notes: lit-er-ray-tur for getting all book-smart on the interminable drive - my prime take-away: slight wonder why economists are the first put up against the wall when the Revolutions come Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
powderhound Posted January 9, 2014 Share Posted January 9, 2014 Happy New Year good Sir Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
beaconben Posted January 10, 2014 Share Posted January 10, 2014 Right on Ivan! Looks like a great trip. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
wayne Posted January 19, 2014 Share Posted January 19, 2014 Way to break up the winter break! Looks like things worked out just fine. Cant wait to go to this place again. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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