It’s been a long time since I first drove down the road that drops into Indian Creek. I clearly remember meeting Andy Chapman at the bulletin board and heading up to the Reservoir Wall. Having only a double set of cams and absolutely no frickin’ idea what I was doing, I picked something super short with a reasonable grade that look the most like a granite route. After barely eeking out a send, I then proceeded to get my ass kicked on several other routes including Pente and Gurka.
Many trips later I’m a much better climber, but I still don’t have to look far to get my ass kicked. Jen and Jess joined me, and we met up with Takeshi, who Rick and I met in Alaska in May. Takeshi and his wife Miho (I really hope I’m spelling that right) are in the middle of a few weeks of cruising through the Western US and crushing. Miho also has the unique advantage of getting solid handjams in .75 Camalot cracks. I’m jealous. While Takeshi warmed up on Way Rambo, the rest of us went around the corner and decided for some damn reason to get on the Serrator despite only having three pieces of gear that really fit it. I put up the rope in one of the most pathetic displays of poor offwidth technique, hanging on gear, bumping gear, and whimpering that anyone present had seen in a while. It felt so good to be back in the desert.
Sunday was much different. In search of shade, we ended up going back to the wall where my Creek climbing began. I hadn’t been to the Res wall since the very first trip, so the whole day was trip down memory lane. With people on the warmups, we decided to get right on Pente. After all these years, the route that I dogged my way up on top rope is now a fun, casual warmup. We then tried Gurka, which didn’t go clean but now feels very doable. The first time on this thing I didn’t even make it half way before bailing. To finish off the day, we led the chill 5.10 that was my very first pitch here, and it was just as fun as it was all those years ago.
No matter how many times I come to the Creek I always love every minute of it. I love looking up a star-filled sky at night and chatting with good friends by the campfire. I love waking up to a frosty morning and downing the first cup of coffee while flipping through the guidebook for the thousandth time and choosing where to go that day. I love the hike up the trail with a haul bag full of every cam I own. I love sending because it shows me that I’m getting better. I love getting my ass kicked because it shows that I still have so much to learn. I love shoes that wear out on top before the soles go. I love the first cold beer in the parking lot. And I love all of my friends sitting there on their backpacks peeling tape gloves from their dirty, gobied hands.
