Way too much drinking and rocking out to Hell’s Bells (an all girl AC/DC cover band) on Saturday meant that we didn’t get started until 11:30 on Sunday, and even then with wickedly debilitating hangovers.
Guessing that most Front Range crags were going to be crawling with people, Tim and I went north to Vedauwoo. Lots of hikers and RVers and BBQers out and about, but no climbers. Excellent.
We got on Edward’s Crack (5.7) at Walt’s Wall, and had the entire place to ourselves. Turns out Tim forgot to bring his harness, so we rigged one out of two sewn runners. He also forgot his belay device, so we decided that the leader got a belay from my ATC while the second would get a Munter hitch. Cool beans.
Tim fires the first pitch; I take the second, and Tim follows as fast as he can so we can get off the top and avoid the ugly-misshapen-lightning-filled clouds oozing rain and electric death on us from on high. After the scramble down, we wave “hi” to the tourists and marvel that the displacement of a few hundred yards can so hugely effect one’s experience and sphincter.
Just in time, we’re back at the car, and the heavens unleash hell. Rain gushes forth. The drive back to Ft. Collins via Laramie is surreal with maniacal 18-wheelers bent on making time, but only succeeding in making mayhem. One fishtails wildly across 2 lanes not 50 feet in front of us before regaining control, unlike his brethren on the shoulder, that
ended up jack-knifed and smashed and smoking into the granite walls on the side of the highway.
A sobering way to end the day but the alternative is to sit on your couch and avoid atheriosclerosis or maybe getting hit by a meteorite. The games we play.
A few pics here: