Words can only try and describe the blissful nature of being on the road. Listening to the river flow by, looking up at a dark sky mist with clouds, peering through the trees admiring a campfire someone has built. The morning time is so new as I open my car door to feel the moist air wisp my face, changing into my other pants, the sun peering over the horizon highlighting the frozen grass.
I’ve been taking jogs after climbing, finding few partners on occasion. But, this night I looked up at the sky alone, with the stars peering down at me, and felt like, I don’t know, somewhat like my smile could stretch beyond the stars I looked at. Like if I stayed like this forever time would never end. If I only knew what my decisions to stay longer in Rifle would bring, I don’t think the small could have got smaller. I felt dharma had been served and I was perfectly still where I was. There was already a future to my past.
I am so at peace out here. There is no more going to San Francisco, well; at least I don’t think so. I am much more happy sitting out here on my lonesome, saving what ever cash I have, studying, reading, writing, and traveling onto the next area. You meet so many nice people around here. Like Dave from Texas, Nice guy, about 5’10” big old handle bar mustache and a dog named Austin that walked with a limp. He let me hang out in his camper on cold nights. While he read long books he had finished before I was born I sat and studied my Nutrition chapter.
“So where ya’ goin’ next Dave?” We did small talk like this.
“Well, I reckon Moab, wife’s expectin’ me home by the end of the month, and I got some friends out in Moab; guy basically made a career of climbin’ n’ invited me down there.”
“Cool” I thought in my head. What an adventure. Plus, living in Moab, having your main occupation showing people around Ancient Red Sandstone palaces! That’s what I want to do, not spend my money to go see some shit in San Francisco for four hundred dollars. I found out the other day I have my whole life to do what I haven’t done already. I’d rather be dead broke with no gas in Moab in the winter, because I haven’t really done that yet. It’s like every bad thing has a positive reaction. This is the Zen thing: So I get stranded in Moab in the winter, gas is out, but then someone helps me. That help is much more valuable than the gas I lost. All is compensated by something eternally great! This intrigues me though, doing all I haven’t done. Like meeting new girls, hiking in Marin County, accumulating book after bookshelf in my neat room like Japhy. Going to Tibet and hanging out in the snow, or trudging through Yosemite Valley and cooking in the backcountry. Or working for the national park as a search and rescue guy, or studying with some Organic Farmer in India, who works sparingly and spends the rest of the day learning and talking. Going to Europe, donating my time to under privileged youth, and seeing their big smiles, going to big cities and getting culture shock. Living on the east coast and being close to family and smelling new flowers. It’s sort of like I am seeing the world with new eyes, or being born again. Anyways, I’ll probably be hanging out with Dave in Heuco sometime during the winter. But the people sure are great.
One-day Dave's dog puked up some stuff with these fat worms in it. I felt so bad for the young dog, but we both chuckled and got the poor little guy some wormy medication. Good thing Dave’s on his trek back to Texas.
“Austin, your goin’ on home where you and ma’ will get some good R and R”. The dog walked around with his little limp and was happy.
“Hey Dave, let’s cook some pancakes tomorrow morning” I got this awesome whole wheat batter and a ton of fruit I gotta finish before it goes too bad, plus I have fresh nuts and berries.” I questioned.
“Sounds good” Dave replied.
I’ve met so many other cool people: Bolters, Climbers, Rednecks, Child Molesters, Spanish English Teachers, Swedish English Learners, Beer company owners, professional skiers. I’ve developed great relations with the local star bucks and the local library as well. I ought to be in the right place.
I really feel like a dharma bum. Life right now is like a fictional novel; which I am in control of. Cooking out of the back of my car, stacking my dirty clothes in my climbing rucksack, doing dishes in the river, then curling into the back of my car to study, read, write, and think. My mind went from cluttered, to a wide, vast Joshua Tree dessert scene. All I have to worry about is who I’m going to ship a postcard out to tomorrow, or where I am going to this winter to get money for spring and summer. Plus some deadlines for school here and there.
Midterms were due and I had to start focusing. A particular route is still keeping me here in Rifle. The weather no longer feels cold for a shorts wearin’ , surf goin’ San Diego boy like myself. I step out of my car and resist the feeling of chill, I would rather think of it as refreshing.
The sky’s pink exiting my car, I stretch my arms towards the overlapping semi circle of the heavens. The sun still peers from the East over the hills; its beauty beckons me to document each morning with pictures, journals, and my memory.
Mid-terms are due and I’ve been working vigorously on both climbing projects, school, and personal ones alike.
The weather in the canyon is starting to really become ripe. Folks who don’t climb would call it the inside of your local ice cream parlor’s display, climbers and outdoor enthusiasts would call it, well… perfect. You can’t call the environment cold; when you step out from your overheated bag, a better word would be: refreshing.
Each night my dreams float with the wind. While my trunk bed opens, I drift off to sleep, listening to the river and the voices of other campers lingering in discussion.
The ice usually thaws my windows from heat expenditure during sleep. Sitting up fast from my sleeping stance, I raise my arms, stretch my legs and grab my books or laptop to my left. I’ve been working hard on a midterm for MAT 125: a course that shows how to build the fundaments of a website using XHTML design. I’ll ‘plomp’ the lap top in front of me, assume prone position and await to hear the hissing sound from surrounding propane tanks. Sometimes, I’ll get out of the car, sit in my fold out chair and brew coffee before anyone opens their eyes. My work ethic is very good, making sure to work each day on my obligations. The website turned out really cool, pretty much describing my life, climbing travels and sponsors.
I’ve met more and more cool people out here in Rifle (for the month and half I’ve been here). One in particular is Spaniard: Rueben Moriscal. There’s something way cool about Ruben’s vibe. It could be why he’s here in the states: to teach Spanish children English, or it could be his attitude as we traverse between cliffs to climb our projects joking with each other how we need to go out when I get to Denver and go dancing. What ever it may be, Reuben like Dave from last month, is someone I wait to climb with each day. Ruben has invited me to Procrero Chico later this year, and even Spain over the summer. I’m sure that like Dave, I’ve developed a new friend.
Unfortunately, Ruben lives in Denver and the partners are getting scarce. There’s nothing more I would like to do than wait each weekend for partners, and send my project, but the uncertainty of finding a climbing partner I feel like 70 east is whispering my name. No matter what, I can’t lose sight that climbing is not all consumed by sending hard grades. Climbing is more about meeting awesome partners, and linking up with old friends, getting acclimated to new areas, peering wondrously at classic rock climbs, and soaking in the beauty an environment of all the beautiful lands has to offer. Rifle has taught me a lot, and I’ll never lose what I’ve learned.
I’ve been taking jogs after climbing, finding few partners on occasion. But, this night I looked up at the sky alone, with the stars peering down at me, and felt like, I don’t know, somewhat like my smile could stretch beyond the stars I looked at. Like if I stayed like this forever time would never end. If I only knew what my decisions to stay longer in Rifle would bring, I don’t think the small could have got smaller. I felt dharma had been served and I was perfectly still where I was. There was already a future to my past.
I am so at peace out here. There is no more going to San Francisco, well; at least I don’t think so. I am much more happy sitting out here on my lonesome, saving what ever cash I have, studying, reading, writing, and traveling onto the next area. You meet so many nice people around here. Like Dave from Texas, Nice guy, about 5’10” big old handle bar mustache and a dog named Austin that walked with a limp. He let me hang out in his camper on cold nights. While he read long books he had finished before I was born I sat and studied my Nutrition chapter.
“So where ya’ goin’ next Dave?” We did small talk like this.
“Well, I reckon Moab, wife’s expectin’ me home by the end of the month, and I got some friends out in Moab; guy basically made a career of climbin’ n’ invited me down there.”
“Cool” I thought in my head. What an adventure. Plus, living in Moab, having your main occupation showing people around Ancient Red Sandstone palaces! That’s what I want to do, not spend my money to go see some shit in San Francisco for four hundred dollars. I found out the other day I have my whole life to do what I haven’t done already. I’d rather be dead broke with no gas in Moab in the winter, because I haven’t really done that yet. It’s like every bad thing has a positive reaction. This is the Zen thing: So I get stranded in Moab in the winter, gas is out, but then someone helps me. That help is much more valuable than the gas I lost. All is compensated by something eternally great! This intrigues me though, doing all I haven’t done. Like meeting new girls, hiking in Marin County, accumulating book after bookshelf in my neat room like Japhy. Going to Tibet and hanging out in the snow, or trudging through Yosemite Valley and cooking in the backcountry. Or working for the national park as a search and rescue guy, or studying with some Organic Farmer in India, who works sparingly and spends the rest of the day learning and talking. Going to Europe, donating my time to under privileged youth, and seeing their big smiles, going to big cities and getting culture shock. Living on the east coast and being close to family and smelling new flowers. It’s sort of like I am seeing the world with new eyes, or being born again. Anyways, I’ll probably be hanging out with Dave in Heuco sometime during the winter. But the people sure are great.
One-day Dave's dog puked up some stuff with these fat worms in it. I felt so bad for the young dog, but we both chuckled and got the poor little guy some wormy medication. Good thing Dave’s on his trek back to Texas.
“Austin, your goin’ on home where you and ma’ will get some good R and R”. The dog walked around with his little limp and was happy.
“Hey Dave, let’s cook some pancakes tomorrow morning” I got this awesome whole wheat batter and a ton of fruit I gotta finish before it goes too bad, plus I have fresh nuts and berries.” I questioned.
“Sounds good” Dave replied.
I’ve met so many other cool people: Bolters, Climbers, Rednecks, Child Molesters, Spanish English Teachers, Swedish English Learners, Beer company owners, professional skiers. I’ve developed great relations with the local star bucks and the local library as well. I ought to be in the right place.
I really feel like a dharma bum. Life right now is like a fictional novel; which I am in control of. Cooking out of the back of my car, stacking my dirty clothes in my climbing rucksack, doing dishes in the river, then curling into the back of my car to study, read, write, and think. My mind went from cluttered, to a wide, vast Joshua Tree dessert scene. All I have to worry about is who I’m going to ship a postcard out to tomorrow, or where I am going to this winter to get money for spring and summer. Plus some deadlines for school here and there.
Midterms were due and I had to start focusing. A particular route is still keeping me here in Rifle. The weather no longer feels cold for a shorts wearin’ , surf goin’ San Diego boy like myself. I step out of my car and resist the feeling of chill, I would rather think of it as refreshing.
The sky’s pink exiting my car, I stretch my arms towards the overlapping semi circle of the heavens. The sun still peers from the East over the hills; its beauty beckons me to document each morning with pictures, journals, and my memory.
Mid-terms are due and I’ve been working vigorously on both climbing projects, school, and personal ones alike.
The weather in the canyon is starting to really become ripe. Folks who don’t climb would call it the inside of your local ice cream parlor’s display, climbers and outdoor enthusiasts would call it, well… perfect. You can’t call the environment cold; when you step out from your overheated bag, a better word would be: refreshing.
Each night my dreams float with the wind. While my trunk bed opens, I drift off to sleep, listening to the river and the voices of other campers lingering in discussion.
The ice usually thaws my windows from heat expenditure during sleep. Sitting up fast from my sleeping stance, I raise my arms, stretch my legs and grab my books or laptop to my left. I’ve been working hard on a midterm for MAT 125: a course that shows how to build the fundaments of a website using XHTML design. I’ll ‘plomp’ the lap top in front of me, assume prone position and await to hear the hissing sound from surrounding propane tanks. Sometimes, I’ll get out of the car, sit in my fold out chair and brew coffee before anyone opens their eyes. My work ethic is very good, making sure to work each day on my obligations. The website turned out really cool, pretty much describing my life, climbing travels and sponsors.
I’ve met more and more cool people out here in Rifle (for the month and half I’ve been here). One in particular is Spaniard: Rueben Moriscal. There’s something way cool about Ruben’s vibe. It could be why he’s here in the states: to teach Spanish children English, or it could be his attitude as we traverse between cliffs to climb our projects joking with each other how we need to go out when I get to Denver and go dancing. What ever it may be, Reuben like Dave from last month, is someone I wait to climb with each day. Ruben has invited me to Procrero Chico later this year, and even Spain over the summer. I’m sure that like Dave, I’ve developed a new friend.
Unfortunately, Ruben lives in Denver and the partners are getting scarce. There’s nothing more I would like to do than wait each weekend for partners, and send my project, but the uncertainty of finding a climbing partner I feel like 70 east is whispering my name. No matter what, I can’t lose sight that climbing is not all consumed by sending hard grades. Climbing is more about meeting awesome partners, and linking up with old friends, getting acclimated to new areas, peering wondrously at classic rock climbs, and soaking in the beauty an environment of all the beautiful lands has to offer. Rifle has taught me a lot, and I’ll never lose what I’ve learned.
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