Bomb, bomber, bombing; I bombed off the lip of a tall boulder.

With the depression of injury slowly starting to wane its way out of my life, I feel confident enough in my return to touching rocks to write about the hairy encounter I had with Jason Kehl's widowmaker, or, The Rules of Chaos.

Only two weeks into my winter Hueco rendezvous I managed to swing past the largest pad pit ever assembled, to barely miss my spotter and nearly shatter my ankle on cold, hard, syenite porphyry, or, evil Hueco granite.  It managed to stop any walking for 5 days, and most of my climbing. Thus explains my hiatus, my lack of any excitement for the sport, and my recent absence of posts.

Not all is bad, though, I've started a new project out here on the east coast that seems promising, and incredibly unexpected.  The trip yielded new friends (not excluding Drifter Black Dog Zoro Batman Filet'o'fish!), new problems to climb and some pretty pictures despite my distadvantaged heel, which will surely surface sporadically as I continue to post.

Here included are pictures of the boulder, the fall, the heel and a cursingly left heel-hook intensive climb, Alma Blanca.

Count all the heel hooks in Hueco, take my words, they're all for the left foot.