Due to an uncategorically dry winter in Colorado, there has been a unique opportunity present in Rifle Mountain Park to crank on certain routes that would otherwise be impossible to climb later in the season. As a result I found myself hooked on a certain route located at the back of a place called the Skull Cave. The route is named Skull F%#k and has to be one of the most aesthetically pleasing route for a person that boulders. If you actually sport climb you would probably think this thing is kind of gross (as I have been told by many of my friends) but I figured that even these kind of routes need some love every once in a while.
At the beginning of the season I decided to check this bad boy out and noticed that one of the main crux holds was soaked, but I figured "what the hell" might as well wire the bottom and crank. So I did. I cranked all the way up the soaked hold and discovered that if I kept chalking I could at least pull through the move. This became both a good and bad discovery- good because I felt strong, bad because I now had hope to finish the route. As of writing this blog I have yet to finish the route, but the hold keeps getting dryer and I seem to keep making it a little farther up each time! What I have found amusing about all of this is the imagery that I have managed to get into my brain.
Remember the movie Indiana Jones and The Raider of the Lost Ark? The beginning of it is set in the Jungle in a temple where Harrison Ford has to weigh out the sand bag to match the gold idol. Basically that scene plays through my head every time I am cranking through the crux of this problem. I weigh out the chances of catching the wet hold and hoping not to punt. I over-chalk, take a breathe... do a little head-bob thing that seems to be balancing out the chances of me sticking the move and I crank. I hit the crimp/gaston/pocket thing and take a breathe. I feel good... I feel really good... and take a sigh of relief... then just as in the stupid movie when the idol starts to sink, my fingers start to slip! Of course I panic, over-grip, try to make the next move and that is where the freaking boulder comes down... but instead of actually escaping the devastating traps... I find myself sailing through the air and punting. Needless to say... if I were Indiana Jones and we played that scenario... I would be dead... probably long ago.
As of writing this I am headed back up there to go see if I can finish the route and finally move onto something else! Overall I am hoping the spice and zestyness will allow me to pull through, but we shall see...