Friday, April 24, 2026

Time Is Just Weakness Lingering In Your Body

 Wolverine…

…Not the character played by Hugh Jackman. It’s a line. On a boulder. Not my line. I did not do the first ascent. I’m pretty sure I did the second ascent right after the first. Or soon after. 

This is how I think it went—I’m reconstructing some memories of this event—but the important bits are sourced directly from memory.

My younger cousin—Dustin—and I had started intentionally bouldering during the last half of 1998. We’d climbed a few things at Emerald City with no crash pad. I’m sure we didn’t clean or only minimally cleaned anything. 

I’d been telling my new climbing friend Tony about Emerald City as well as our other bouldering exploits at Torrent Falls, Tower Rock, and The Heights. I was particularly proud of The Heights. There’s a five start V2 roof problem I called Sugar High there. 

Tony was finally in town with his crash pads (I believe he had already loaned me a pad we’d been using but had not used when we did the first stuff at Emerald), and he was willing to let us show him what we’d found and climbed. I was giddy to have gotten him to go with us to Emerald just to boulder. 

We started out near Yellow Brick Road. We’d already put up problems on the Black Magic Boulder, Solitaire, Skittles, and the Yellow Brick Toad. While I was showing them to Tony, Dustin wandered over the hill into the rhododendron and disappeared. 

The rest of us kept climbing near the cliff, but eventually Dustin came slogging back up the hill excited and demanded we come see what he’d found. 

Dustin was a mute. I mean, he could talk; he just chose not to most of the time. And he always had a deep voice, even when you weren’t sure where he could have kept such thick vocal cords in such a scrawny frame. So when he did talk it was hard to ignore. Somehow we did.

I can’t remember for sure, but he may have absconded with a crash pad, and when we started looking for it realized it was down in the rhododendron thicket with Dustin. So we went to investigate. 

He’d found a king line. Everyone agreed, even Tony. The downhill side of the boulder overhung a nice long bench which would yield even more nice boulders after we explored around. But that day we dropped everything under that prow and gawked. 

As soon as the rest of us arrived, Dustin jumped on the rock and showed us the moves he’d figured out. We started chucking shoes around like Mr. Rogers and took turns trying it all-the-while Dustin kept reminding us he’d found it, and it was his line. I believe the exact phrase he used was “Get off, you homo, it’s mine!” 

Everyone respected his find and he sent it. That day or the next session I can’t remember, but he got after that thing with a vengeance. For someone whose spirit animal is probably a sloth, that was a big deal. 

As being relatively new to formal bouldering, we cajoled Tony to give the problem a grade. It felt hard. We wanted to know how hard we’d just bouldered. I mean, that thing has some moves on it would blow your mind seventy feet up and a body length out from your last bolt. 

You step up onto the slab with two small, but good holds—left on the bottom of the prow and right on a good vertical incut—with decent feet.  Then you reach across with your right hand and palm the underside of the offset prow and rock into that to lock yourself into the space. Then it’s a high reach up to a severely small crimp with a thumb catch, bump feet, and grab a small but positive hold higher up on the prow with your right. Then it’s move feet again, another reach up to a nice handlebar with a positive lip for the left hand, and then move feet again and get a nice hold for the right and top out. 

When pinned down (I had two inches and thirty pounds on him) Tony said it was V1. 

Dustin and I hadn’t bouldered anywhere else beside the Gorge. We didn’t know what bouldering grades meant. And in fact, we had only been climbing a couple years when we shifted to a bouldering focus (much to the chagrin of every other climber in the Red in the Nineties) so we couldn’t even really make educated guesses about grades. Tony set the bar for us. After Wolverine we at least had a reference for V1. That influenced every line we put up over the next three years. 

Why Wolverine? I can’t remember now. I wasn’t an X-Men fan back then. Dustin named it—as was his right—and I’m sure it was either commonly understood or maybe he explicitly stated it was named after the X-Man. But after twenty seven years I’m not even sure of that anymore. The name is distinctly singular, not plural, therefore I’m certain it wasn’t a Red Dawn reference. 

I missed the twenty seventh anniversary of the first ascent by two days. Tonya (not Tony) and I went up last night. I wanted to get in a few problems, but most stuff needs some cleaning. And I need some conditioning. But I ended up standing at the base of it, chalking my hands, and putting sticky rubber to sandstone. After one false start, muscle memory kicked in. This one makes a little more sense…I have climbed Wolverine a lot in my lifetime. It’s an old standard for sure. I didn’t send, but I would have if I hadn’t been moaning like an old man. Like the old man that I am.

I haven’t talked to Dustin in years despite his mom and my dad being siblings. There’s no animosity. We drifted apart after he graduated high school, and I got married. 

He was seventeen when he found and climbed that line. Sure, it’s a lowly V1. But Dustin’s discovery of what would become this iconic line, and his insistence that I come and check it out, led to the further exploration of the rhodo-covered bench which inspired the ensuing intensive development of Emerald City that occurred and is still ongoing. Last night I spied another couple of unclimbed lines I want to get on. And I still think there’s a variation of Wolverine that could be significantly harder. From the severe crimp, just imagine going left and up onto the blank headwall. I’ve always thought a strong enough climber could do it. I have yet to be that climber.

Reaching for the severe, small crimp



Pulling up on the small, but positive
hold on the prow before the handlebar.


Wednesday, April 08, 2026

Blu-eyed Boulder Gai


I sent Blue Eye Samurai. I got home from work last night but hadn’t planned to boulder. But conditions were perfect, so I asked Jay to go. We took two pads and our shoes and chalk bags. 

She tried Better Call Saul, and I should have gotten on it again, but instead I threw the pads down under that prow. No day but today. 


Two pads gave me confidence, and it got a boost when Jay moved the pads for me as I moved out the prow. I sent it first try. I didn’t cut feet. 


It’s funny; the crux of the route was the 5.3 exit slab move above a twelve foot 5.9 overhanging prow. It’s not hard; it’s just high.


It was the perfect mix of steep and slab, hands and feet, comfort and tension. Yeah. Perfect. 


I couldn’t stop thinking about that line. I looked at that five or six years ago and saw the possibility. I didn’t really think I’d ever do it. And here I am. Author of a classic. 


It’s the perfect bouldering story: Long lost problem. Rediscovered. Delayed return. Pondered. Doubt. Then I cleaned it. Then I cleaned it some more. Put hands on it. I might just do it. Threw a pad down. Swung such cool moves. Enough to know it would go. Squatter in my blotter. Not in dread but in drive. All came together. Spotter Jay. Temps were fine. My energy was high. Stoke followed. 

Hands to stone, feet placed, and I flowed upward. Controlled reaches. Confident pulls. Gunksian position. Finally onto the shelf. I did it!


I am the wizard of slab. Upward I dance. Pause at the 5.3 crux twenty feet off the ground. Grab the ridge and heave over. Blue Eye Samurai.



I dabbled in creating images in Copilot until I realized
how detrimental creating AI imagery is. These are relics...
 


Tuesday, April 07, 2026

Surf Slade

At 4:02pm, I set my cruise at 82 mph. It’s strategic. Traffic on I-64 out of Lexington was lighter than usual. Fayette County spring break is a needed respite. I was pleasantly surprised to find the access road gate open at North Fork. I pulled up on the reins and took the shot.

That’s where all the traffic ended up. I avoided Stanton and Slade both with my little exit maneuver but ended up passing half a dozen cars coming out of the western realm on North Fork. And more heading out later. GPS mapping is ruining my outdoor experiences. 

My goal was to improve and possible attempt the marquee line on the Samurai Boulder. Mainly it needed the remainder of loose detritus and dead leaves swiped off the upper slab. That went pretty quickly. Then I threw my old worn out pad under the line and shoved my gnarled old feet into brand new shoes. Old wine in new wineskins and all…

I surprised myself on my first attempt of Blue Eye Samurai by getting all the way to the move that transitions from overhanging to the upper slab.  I wanted a second crash pad or a spotter. I’m sure I can do the move. 


It’s going to be a classic moderate highball boulder problem. I foresee it being the common starting point when people start visiting Boulder City. 

I FAed three other easy problems. One was the obvious line in the uphill side of the Outskirts Boulder. It’s the first (and large) boulder on the center approach. Just below Broken Window Boulder. Called it Tourist Traffic. Wonder why?

I did two problems on Samurai after attempting Blue Eye. I did the obvious easy scramble on the left side of the south face. I called it Electric Balalaika in reference to the movie “Six String Samurai.” And to wrap up a good quick session I sent the slab problem to the left of the southwest arete. I called it Surfing in Siberia. It’s hard V0 or maybe V1. The moves are fun and once I clean it up it should be a pretty good problem. 

I’ve slipped back into the life I’ve pined for all these years. I’m living the life I want. At least in the kind of balance I can accept. I’d rather have more free time, but I’m stealing as much as I can and maintaining equilibrium. 

Saul Goodman Boulder from the top of Samurai Boulder

I’m feeling the same kind of drive and motivation and excitement as I did when I was full-on developing Lower Small Wall, Area 51, and Muscle Beach. It’s satisfying to identify, clean, develop, and tick off line after line after line. And not only for the climbs but also for the trails and top outs and bases. I have considerably more experience trail building and doing rock work. I envision a fully developed area that will draw people to boulder there. 

I know I’ve said this before, but I've realized bouldering is my creative urge and creative outlet. It's looking at a piece of rock and envisioning how I can move over it. It’s crafting a line, naming it, creating some kind of history to go with it. The documentation through photos and writing about the experiences enhances it even more. Maybe I’ll be the only person who ever enjoys my art, but it is my art. 



Friday, April 03, 2026

Righteous Dinero Brothers

I slipped out of Lexington an hour early from work. I didn’t rush and ended up at the pull off about the same time as if I had left at my normal time and stood on the gas pedal all the way. Tourist traffic. 

I changed clothes in the drivers seat. It’s warm again, so I go into the woods wearing only a pair of shorts. Trying to maximize my sun exposure early in the year. I poked my contacts in. 

No one around despite the hordes. I laid into the approach, one foot in front of the other, climbing the slope, rounding the undeveloped Outskirts Boulder. Pausing at the Broken Window Boulder to consider giving SimCity Planner another go. Decided to stick to the plan. 

I trudged up the distinct deer trail, found a nice approach line through the rubble above the limestone band, and dropped my stuff under the imposing southeast corner of the Samurai Boulder. The sun hid about the time I reached the CBD of Boulder City. 

First I clambered up on the Saul Goodman Boulder swept the leaves and sticks off. Mainly I’m trying to get ahead of any poison ivy that still wants to bud out. But there was no poison ivy on top of Goodman. 

Dropped a rope down the south face of Samurai. Snipped some rhodo and birch twigs. Swept off piles of leaves and dirt caught on ledges. It’s going to be epic. Kept looking over at the east face of Goodman—that distinct pillar feature on the top two thirds of the slab. The sun was dipping low. Other than walking out in the dark nothing compelled me to leave. 

So I threw brushes at the face—at that line. It took some time but I got it all cleaned up. I set the ladder aside—strapped my phone to it for video in fact—and dragged my crash pad over and plopped it at the base. Jammed my feet into climbing shoes (gonna need a resole soon), dipped my fingers in my chalk bag, and stepped up to the boulder. 

With a false start the problem went down as I expected it to. The moves were straightforward. The holds are all there. It’s high enough I didn’t want to blow the top out but not so tall as to melt my heart. I called it Better Call Saul. ‘S like a V1. Maybe. I don’t know grades anymore. Now I’m stoked to pull down the lines.