Caliman - V7

Caliman - V7 from Hotel Sierra on Vimeo.

I did this once before about a year ago and couldn't repeat it. Today, I did it twice. I'm not sure it's V7 anymore. I couldn't do V5 in the gunks, so I'm downgrading this in my personal book to V4 max.

Absurd.

This short video sums up our foray into frozenness. If you go now, this is what you can expect. It's all yours with no crowds. If you happen to see me there, just shoot me and put me out of my misery.

Thick. from Hotel Sierra on Vimeo.

Gunks carriage road. 18F.

Yeah, so M and I were the only ones psychotic enough to boulder outside yesterday. The usually friendly approach from the unusually empty Trapps parking lot was converted into a treacherous ice slide. We slipped and fell a couple times but were protected by eskimo-like layers of clothing and crash pads. At least we didn't have to pay the usual $15 fee since the ranger was not loony enough to leave the comfort of his living room. Of course, for the amount of misery we endured, we should have been paid. Just kidding - being married and working for a paycheck have already killed me so I don't feel a thing. Ok, just kidding again - marriage is a wonderful institution and scratching for your meat is, by most people's definitions, a good thing.

We started with the Lorax V4. I don't know if the hand-jam is off on this contrived piece of scheisse. Knowing the gunks, it probably is. I then tried New Pair of Glasses V7. Hands and toes froze after the first move. I didn't realize that numb toes could actually be worse than numb hands. Masa then did the Gill Pinch roof V4 and I tried White boys and Puerto Ricans V7. Suffice to say, my meager breakfast of a slice of pumpkin pie and an espresso from the Muddy Cup in town was not fueling the success I fantasized about.

We then shifted our focus to the Black Boulder V3. Our frozen asses and diminishing core strength did not help us on what is considered a "classic" on the east coast. Also, the Sportiva Cobras aren't the best heel-hooking hardware, as Matt S confirmed afterwards.

After 6 hours in sub-zero temperatures on overrated boulders, we retired to Bacchus for their overrated beer selection and non-existent service. Matt was right: "Never go there when you're hungry. You will starve to death." (waiting for service).

The highlight of the day, besides not being in a chalk filled gym with nauseating music (except for NJR when Matt plugs his mp3 player in), was finding the Crystal Sword, or "Icecalibur"*. I think it was by Key Hole Crack. There was a frozen waterfall with huge icicles, and we discovered one that perfectly resembled a sword, replete with bulbous handle, hilt, and proportional taper. Yeah, that sounds embarrasingly phallic and i sound like a geek/dork** raised on Luke Skywalker. Sadly, both are true.

After being frozen, bruised, and battered, I drove back to NJ and was greeted by a blizzard white-out. Couldn't get the car up the driveway and had to shovel the 2 feet of snowdrift out of the 20 foot incline at midnight. Why do so many people live in this god-forsaken state? Suffice to say, my neck feels like whiplash and my back and trapezius feel like fifty angry ninjas wailed on them with rusty dung-covered garden tools. My soul and body are now unified.

*Heather L gets credit for that one.

**I always forget the difference.