Price

My son (who is like a go pro to me now)

2012-01-24T13:27:00.000-08:00

He's here. That's the story. How about some pictures:

My baby feeds himself. He's also potty trained.

Feedin' Ducks and Geese - Fun with the gopro that doesn't include action sports.

2011-08-29T06:37:00.000-07:00

Well, there's a little bit of casual biking around the park. Cyndi wanted to get rid of the old hotdog buns that have been hanging around the house, so we biked over to the park and fed them to the ducks. Great S&G soundtrack as well. Enjoy:

Wakeboarding with the fam and the go-pro (Which is like a son to me now)

2011-08-21T20:38:00.001-07:00

Just a poorly edited video - I discovered how good the video editing software is on Cyndi's Mac, so the next one will be better.

City of Rocks - Rye Crisp 5.8

2011-08-21T18:09:00.000-07:00

A quick rock climbing video. Even if you don't watch the whole thing, skip ahead to 3:26. Evolv makes the kind of shoes you can trust when you have to most.

Go Amateur

2011-08-10T21:31:00.000-07:00

Took the bike and the Go-pro camera down to I street tonight for some jumping. It was getting dark, but fun prevailed.

I missed getting a shot from the step down. I'll go back soon. Make it full screen. It's better.

Pics of Shirlee Temple

2011-05-26T10:21:00.000-07:00

Pics of my new bike. I named it today: Shirlee Temple.

Some things that other people should own

2011-02-09T16:47:00.000-08:00

Please excuse the crappy photos.

I have a lot of stuff. Some of it will be given away soon. I hope to give it to people I know who can put it to good use.

Here are some things that someone else should own:

Shoes and Dishes:

Size 12 for the most part. Somnio Running Shoes, Terra Plana barefoot shoes

, La sportiva approach/skate shoes, and some simple shoes.

The dishes are Correl break and chip resistant. Plates, bowls, small plates and some cups.

Luggage: Some one going on a mission?

Big ol' suit case. It measures about 24"x36"x12" Perfect condition.

Clothes and wine glasses and a yoga mat:

Mostly women's size small. Same with the clothes (he he)

I'm done with this stuff, so if you can come get it, it's yours. If you want to spot me $5 for a brand new pair of shoes or you find value in something else, that's cool too. You know how to find me.

Price

Favorite things so far 2010

2010-02-17T15:04:00.000-08:00

So, here's a list of some things I've been enjoying.

1. Laptop - I'll start off with my new computer which is to blame for the fact that I'm going to start blogging again. Cyndi gave it to me for Christmas. This thing is slick, HP with Windows 7 (which was not my idea, haha). The coolest part is that it has a TV tuner and handles HDTV. That means I can record NASCAR all season long. I can also take it with me and watch it where ever I like.

2. Evolv Climbing - Not just the shoes, but the people and the company. Don't get me wrong, the shoes are killer, and the best for climbing up steep rock and plastic. It's just amazing that a big and well known company can still be so small. The owner of the company knows everyone who works for him, goes to the trade shows, climbs, and hangs out like everyone else. And speaking of everyone else, the team, sales people, athletes, and everyone else involved are all stellar good people. Seems like $$-signs aren't the most important things to these people. So for just that reason, I'll send my $$ their way, and so should you.

3. My Cat - OK is about the best little fur ball I've ever known. He can be annoying - he loves to talk all the time - but he's super affectionate and really smart. We'll keep him around for a while.

4. Cooking - Now that I'm the stay at home type (due to unfortunate unemployment) I've been cooking and being domestic. I've had some success with casseroles, pork chops and tacos. I'm no chef, that's for sure. I just enjoy making some things.

5. Home Improvement - Blinds are just the beginning, but they're a pretty good start. There's been insulation, and there's going to be a fence, and all of that is just at Cyndi's house.

6. Rock climbing - This is always one of my favorite things. I just feel like I've gotten over a bit of a hump and have started improving again. I don't know if there is much else in my life that teaches me so much about myself like climbing does. Crazy, I know. It's just climbing up rocks.

7. Wife planning - Most important of all the favorite things in my life is my sweet woman. Cyndi and I got engaged on Valentines day. I'm incredibly happy about finding the woman I'm spending the rest of my life with. Getting married is going to be a great step.

Future items of discussion:
-My teeth
-Job Hunting
-Rock Climbing
-Anasazi revival

And sometimes 5 months later, you still know.

2010-01-20T20:37:00.000-08:00

Life is really good.

But I still need a job.
Star-power

Friends Casey and Scott

Me and Cyndi

Life is really good.

Sometimes you just know.

2009-08-23T11:05:00.000-07:00

It felt like summer today

2009-06-22T21:18:00.000-07:00

And it was.

I went climbing,

went for a hike,

feel much better.

Nobody's bloggin'

2009-06-16T17:48:00.001-07:00

Good. I hope that means you're all busy and having fun. Can't wait to hear the reports though.

A million tiny things

2009-05-12T18:43:00.000-07:00

I read a book several years ago called "A Million Little Pieces" by James Frey. Despite the controversy surrounding the truthfulness of the events described in the book, it is an interesting and powerful story. It's a story about refusing to be a victim, accepting responsibility and the ability to control your own fate.

I too am a firm believer that only I am in control of my destiny, but I was thinking about all the million tiny things that have led me to certain places in my life.

200 million years ago, sand dunes covered what is now Eastern Utah. Compaction, lithification, erosion, weather and a lot of time created what is known as the Wingate formation. It's a layer of sandstone that splits vertically and erodes slowly. The cracks that form stay uniform in width and have very little flare. In one area of Eastern Utah, wind and water broke through most of the Wingate, as well as the Kayenta and Navajo layers above. In this one tiny area only a small tower was left as the cracks formed and the blocks fell away into the talus left below. The earth shifted, and the lightning bolt cracks on its east face were formed. The cracks shot all the way through and light can be seen from the other side, but the towers stood. What is left is called the North Sixshooter Peak.

Just a few years after the dunes were turning to stone, my mother and father met in Rexburg, Idaho, and another few years after that, I was born into this fine world.

I grew up in Idaho. I lived in Guatemala for a couple years. I went to church, played baseball, had birthday parties, got in trouble, went hiking and camping. I learned so much in school at home, from friends and enemies. I met incredible people and developed a love for nature and being outside. Dad took me rappelling and caving. We climbed peaks in the Tetons. Family vacations more often consisted of educational road trips rather than Disney Land and Lagoon, though we did those too.
In 2005 I was mountain biking one night in Little Cottonwood Canyon. When I finnished riding the trail that night, I met some friends who were "bouldering" on the Secret Garden boulders near the mouth of the canyon. I joined them for a couple hours and quickly fell in love with climbing on the boulders. It was fun, and it made me strong. Bouldering became my activity of choice over the next few months. I changed jobs, and then quit working altogether. Summers and I travelled for nine weeks in Central America immediately prior to my move to Texas for a new job.

Texas doesn't have good granite boulders like Utah, so If I wanted to climb, I was going to have to learn to clip bolts on limestone. I did, and I loved it even more than bouldering. Texas climbing got me strong, and when I came back to Utah in 2007 I finally realized how much potential Utah has for climbers. Well, I started to realize.

The next year, I started climbing with Alex Meyer. Alex has certainly been my greatest climbing mentor. Aside from showing me the potential for incredible climbing in and around Salt Lake, he showed me trad climbing, got me started buying important gear, and taught me technique. More importantly, he pushed me to climb things that were beyond my current abilities. Alex didn't get me into climbing, but he pulled me into the deep end and continues to push me to swim.

I lived in the wilderness of Arizona for several months, helping young people learn. I moved back to Utah, and I've been lucky enough to live and climb with the Gregories. I've become debt free and able to control almost all limits that would keep me from doing what I choose. Devin almost died, but he's mostly recovered. It's so good to have him back. I love having my friend back.

So here it is, 2009. I started climbing with Adam Wilkins earlier this year in the gym, but we didn't do much until this spring rolled around. Something clicked about the things that Adam and I could climb when we pushed each other. Adam is incredibly strong mentally and is able to focus and pull through the most intense climbing situations. We climbed almost every weekend doing some incredibly epic things that would cause most people to load their pants. Our crack climbing skills increased, and we became mentally stronger.

With a goal to climb 30 routes in three days, Adam and I went back to Indian Creek this weekend. We didn't make our goal. The second day's climbing took too long, and we were only able to complete 4 pitches each as the sun was getting low Saturday afternoon. So we made the decision to climb the North Sixshooter Peak, the one described in the 3rd paragraph of this blog.

Fingers lock deep in the crack that widens to maddening thumbstacks. (1)
Only commitment to move on insecure and pumpy locks will get you up.
Relief as the void grows large enough to be filled perfectly by hands.
Bigger and bigger, fists then chickenwing grunting through off width. (2)
Strain for a crimp on the face, pull your body in to find rest.
Belay at the top on tattered webbing and knotted cord. (3)

Skirt accross a sloping ramp and place a stopper. (4)
Reaching high, tips and then perfect fingers with flailing feet.
A rest in a pod and then back to locking knuckles.
Hands are wonderful though the roof is stressful, but only for a moment. (5)
Traverse left again or you'll end up in a liquid sky.
Here the hands are too small for average humans.
But to layback up the diagonal roof is devine. (6)
Pull into the pod. Place blue and gold, pull up the line. (7)

Hands to another roof, the crack is too small for hands.
Expose yourself to the sun, the desert air, the empty space. (8)
Pull onto the face of the climb.
The jams are perfect, but the exposure is airy.
Double cracks provide options. (9)
Fingers and hands and fun scrambling.
Rearrange gear on the sides and enter entirely into the chimney. (10)
Grunt, moving painful inches at a time.
Shoulders and knees leave their skin behind
Cams get stuck between body and rock, pinching, stabbing.
Finally, wider then sunlight and scrambling to the top. (11)

Relax, you're on top, 450 feet off the ground, a thousand feed above the valley. All these things came together to this one final moment. And yet, it's just another tiny piece in the big picture. It's just another tiny piece that leads to another unforgetable moment.

Further Updates and bonus

2009-04-29T21:47:00.000-07:00

Castleton Tower

The VSS is cruising along nicely. I wanted to blog about something else this time, but I don't know if I've found all the words I need to get that one out. So the summer will be updated.

Texas was fun and I got to do some climbing on things that I hadn't been able to do in years past. Climbing was good, but it was really good to see Jason and Brooke-old Texas friends-and hear about what's going on in their lives. They are excellent people. I also got to see the most beautiful girl in Oklahoma. ;)

It was good to be back to the Utah desert the next week, and we had an excellent surprise. Most fitting for the VSS, Summers decided to come with us. We got him on some climbs, and he took some pictures for us. Truth be told, the company this summer has been as good or better than the activities. I feel like I'm constantly learning from people and planet. We climbed with Alex and Ceci, and Adam got to do a first ascent on a burley offwidth crack.

Adam and I stayed for a Monday encore and climbed the north face of Castleton Tower. It's a scary 5.11 and Adam faced it with incredible calm and determination. I was definitely not feeling "it" and I just couldn't get into the climbing until it got a little bit scary. Once I realized that I needed to focus, it got much better for me. By the time we reached the top, I felt like I had really found myself again and learned so much. When I figure out how to explain this in real engrish words, I will.
Adam and I went back for another taste of the desert last week, though in retrospect, we probably should have tried to make it down to Nevada with Adam and Ceci. We did climb the three penguins in Arches National Park. It was a fun lead, but the rock is blood thirstier than Count Dracula and all his whorey she-vampires. I left blood and skin all over that thing and I was glad to have a #5 Camalot. It's for big, scary cracks.

VSS updates

2009-04-05T21:11:00.000-07:00

So,

I hope that all of my friends and enemies (there are none) and those who have no bias toward me at all have read the last blog regarding the Vastly Superior Summer. (herein known as the "VSS")

The VSS really got it's start in February. Can you believe that? I kicked it off solo-style by going on a road trip to Red Rocks near Vegas and Nascar in California around Feb. 20th. Since then, every weekend has been an adventure. Yup, it's an adventure.

Weekend of Feb 28th - Hitch hiked back to Vegas. Climbed some more at Red Rocks. Went to Nascar in Vegas.

Weekend of March 7th - Saint George trip with Dirty Adam, Little Devin, and a bunch of other little folkers. Super fun climbing trip.

Weekend of March 14th - San Rafael Climbing Trip w/ D. Adam. Climbed some crazy muddy/sandy cracks. Climbed "Lite not Solid" a spooky 5.10d that ran longer than the 70 meter rope I lugged up it. Adam climbed "Rabid Muslim" an even spookier 5.11 that he ran out way way too far. Definitely want to bring more red camalots on that one. I taught Adam how to build fire with sticks on this trip, and he's been doing it ever since.

Weekend of March 21 - My first trip to Indian Creek ever. If you've never been there, even if you don't climb, you should. It's beautiful. There are walls and walls of beautiful Windgate sandstone with perfect vertical cracks that were obviously cut by aliens ... with lasers. I really fell in love with this place. Marianna was the first noob to join us on a VSS weekend. It was awesome to introduce someone to climbing with a desert tower (Owl Rock) and then Indian Creek. So amazing.

Weekend of March 28th - Adam and I couldn't get enough of the Creek, so we headed back down in his beat up 4-runner. We climbed 7 pitches of hard sandstone cracks on Saturday, and it really worked us. Adam led the Coyne Crack, and we each got a shot at Super Crack (AKA Luxury Liner). Feel like being inspired?

I was scared this weekend. Mother Nature seemed to be conspiring against the VSS. I was able to go snowboarding on Wednesday, but the VSS thirsts for epic adventure on the weekends. Saturday was creeping by with the laptop on the lap. It seemed that nothing could save the VSS. It snowed and snowed. Feet up in the mountains. It was raining in the desert. Then came our saving grace. Adam texted me, "Do you want to go aid climb a roof in LCC?" "Are you serious?" I responded. "Alright then, let's do it."

The snow was deep as we made our way up to the base of the cliffs where the LDS Church recently quarried stone for the Conference Center. Fitting that it was conference weekend. We were having a little spiritual time of our own. In some spots there were holes between the boulders and we would sink in waist deep. I started up the cliff just to see how difficult it would be. The roof pitch was high above us, and it would take a lot of careful climbing over wet and icy granite (I know, it's monzonite) to get there.

I was well into the "no-fall" zone when i decided that I better get out my harness. Seemed it wouldn't be so easy to get up there after all. Carefully balancing on a tiny one-foot perch, I got into my harness and threw the rope to where Adam could belay me. Cleaning off four to six inches of snow from every hold left my hands stinging. Sometimes, I couldn't even tell if I was gripping the rock. We were aid climbing though, so really nothing is off limits. When the holds ran out, I slung a lone brush oak sticking out of the wall. Mantling on a tiny bush with frozen hands and no gear didn't discourage me. In fact, it did quite the opposite. The VSS sprang back to life. We were doing something epic.

The holds ran out again and all I had in front of me was one muddy seam. I got out my rarely used hook. It was a poor placement but all I could get. One tiny iron hook, cocked slightly sideways in a muddy little crack. I pulled on it, and it held me. Two more moves and i was into some thin weeds that miraculously held my weight as I tugged on them. A small lunge got me to some sturdier little oaks and I slung one and got ready to belay Adam.

We left the climb well after the stars were out. Rappelling by headlamp, we left my rope hanging from the tree. The morning would bring more adventure.

Sunday morning I knew what was coming ... or did I? We made our way back to the cliff face. Our rope was still there. There wasn't a single new track in the deep snow. Sunday was different though. It was sunny, so sunny I thought I'd be snow-blind in an hour. The ice was trying to melt off the exposed faces of the cliff. As we geared up to ascend the rope, we got a taste of what we were in for. Chunks of ice were falling off all around us. Most were easy to dodge. Most were pretty soft and harmless.

At the top of the rope, we set up for Adam to lead the first pitch of the day. He took his time getting around a small cave. We kept watching the ice shelf that was so precariously perched above. Then it came. I burried my face in my hands and let my helmet and back take the brunt of it. It was like getting doused in Gatorade in the first quarter. Brrrr....

Adam missed most of it and climbed through the pitch. Two and one-half pitches later, we were above the roof that we had originally set out to climb. we rappelled in and then climbed out, then rappelled back down again.

I'm exhausted. I'm so glad that the VSS is alive and well for me. Remember that the VSS is a group thing, but it's also personal. It will be for you what you make of it. It will be the group activities that you join.

I'm off to Texas to spread some VSS love down there this week. Someone do something incredible and make sure to take some pictures.

9.5 out of 10, a.k.a. The Vastly-Superior Summer

2009-03-17T23:12:00.000-07:00

Damn!

I just got home from a little St. Patty's party watching my friend Matt Lewis rock out with his band. When they started into a cover of Neil Young's "Down by the River" I smiled so big I almost turned my face inside out. Life is really amazing and I plan to keep it going. I told Krissy that it's about a 9.5 out of ten, but I don't know what could even be missing. Maybe some hot, girly lovin'. Who knows?

The real point of this blog is to get the word out about this summer. This summer has the potential to top the summer of 2005, the summer of 1998, the summer of '99. The year of 2009 is poised to be one of the funnest in known history. Why?, you ask. Because I have decided to grab this summer by the hoohahs and make it that way. I'm going to tell you what makes summers amazing. Then I'm going to tell you what I/we are doing this summer. Last, I'm going to name some names, and leave other invitations open as to who will be participating in this, potentially the greatest summer of them all.

In order to understand what makes a good summer, it's important to review some of the years gone by and what made them so good, also, the things that just make for good activities-the stuff good summers are made of.

1998 was the year that I and the guys graduated from high school. I spent May traveling in southern Mexico and was greeted upon my return with my first taste of what post-high school Rexburg had to offer. Girls were abundant, the weather was so warm and friendly, and the days were spent doing the things that I loved. I did work that summer, but that was easy enough, and I didn't let it get in the way. I hiked in the Tetons, and tasted the thin air of the tall mountains. We took the four-wheelers out to the sand dunes so many times. It seems like we went nearly every Monday to steal the girls away from their little FHE groups. That summer faded into fall, Ricks College Expedition, and new friendships.

1999 was similar to '98. Fourwheelers, barbeques with sausage and Mt. Dew. Lots of new friends. There was camping and hiking and caving. The spillway, the sand dunes, Green Canyon. I ate at Craigo's Pizza every night without fail. Small pizza bomb, pepperoni and mushrooms: $2.36. What a deal! Rambo was a classic game that showed it's head quite a bit around this time.

One of the things that made these summers so great was the people behind the activities. There were always people at Craigo's to hang out with. There was always a crew doing something. The whole crew was never there, but the gang was big enough that we were guaranteed enough people to pull off some type of shenanegins. (had to use that word since it's St. Patty's) The Red Dragons, the EBR, the Prep Girls, the Grey Ghosts-who were really just Dragons that didn't want to go through the initiatory beating in the back of craigos. Most of all, the 186.9-my gang! There were all the girls in Natalie's apartment, Kim's apartment, and all the people that they knew. It was crazy!

2005 was a year that certainly changed my life. I started mountain biking, canyoneering, and climbing all that year. Only twice, between Memorial Day and November that year, did I fail to climb a mountain, decend a slot canyon, or go through a cave at least once a week. The Gregories were certainly the wind in those sails. I have Sam and Devan to thank for sure. Never, ever did I have to worry about what I was doing on a Friday night; I was going canyoneering. Saturday night I was too tired to do anything after the day's activities, so my weekends were filled.

So my point - This summer is poised at the tipping point of being the most amazing summer yet. Gas is cheap enough for now that it won't limit our opportunities to see the best of what the west has to offer.

Here's what we're going to do. Some things have approximate dates, some are wide open.

Indian Creek - Climbing - This coming weekend. Get your harnesses and get ready for some hard climbing. If you can't do that, come camp out/hang out or get ready for next week

Zion NP - Canyoneering - Memorial Day weekend, or sometime close. Anyone and everyone should be down for this. Pine Creek, Keyhole, Behunin. We could throw in some climbing for the more hard core.

Devil's Tower, WY - Climbing and Camping

City of Rocks, ID - Climbing and Camping
.
Destination unknown - Anasazi style/primitive camping trip - This will take some planning ... or not.

Lake Powell trip - Devan's got a boat. If we get this crew big enough, we'll get a houseboat for showering and cooking, but camping on the beaches is supreme.

Darby Canyon Ice Caves - Sometime after June - Caving fun fun fun!

Grand Teton - Last half of August - Get tough folks. This is not for the faint of heart. Dad, I would like nothing more than to stand with you on top of this mountain. Let's do it this year.

I'm open to so many more suggestions, but that's a start.

Finally, the people who need to be included. You're all invited. I'm mostly just using this as a guilt trip to make certain people show up. Also, it shows that the group will be big enough to pull this off.

Devan and Ginny, Sam and Massiel. Of course the Gregories will be there. We're going to be building Devan's new house this summer too, so that should provide some fun.

Summers, get your ass out of the house, and quit making up lies. We need you.

Little Devin and Dirty Adam, the climbing kids.

Alex, the climbing king.

My family. Dad and Mom, come to Zion this year. You'll love it. Brian, unemployment, or lack of work just means more time to play. Stacy and Julia and Jeff, you too. Karie, you want to learn to climb. This summer is going to be the one to do it.

Will, you get a line all to yourself. :)

Marianna, the Logan crew, Josiah Griffin, Joe Griffin, Jake Moss. I'll have friends coming in from out of town constantly. Tyson Crosbie, you don't have that long of a drive to meet us in southern you-ta ha ha. Little Adam, Toni and Misti. Tanner. Lizzy D. Dodge and Krissy. Beatbox Kyle. Cynthia A. So many more. Just come along and ride with us ... fantastic-slide slide slippity slide.

Too lazy to blog, too busy to blog.

2009-03-11T14:32:00.000-07:00

Hey, I've been doing stuff. I even started a little blog, but gave it up. Derrick asked what was going on in my life ... well, here's the email:

Price,

Hope all is well. Did I loan you "Orbiting the Giant Hairball"? If you haven't cracked it yet, shame on you. It's such a fun read about living in a bureaucratic world.

Are you still going to take a road trip? When? Where abouts? -DR

Re:

Damn straight I read it. It encompasses all the bitterness I feel toward the corporate lifestyle and the bullshit that Americans attach to success and money. I need to get it back to you. Also the green book that I read about half of. (<--ended that sentence with a preposition. Shame on me.)

Road trip is being spaced out over time. I'm finding it difficult to abandon certain projects and responsibilities that I have around here. I'm not even getting around to see the close friends and family that I should.

I went to Nascar in California, climbed in Red Rocks, NV, then hitchhiked home. The next week I hitched back to Vegas, went to nascar and climbed again, and then drove my own car home ... with a hitch hiker in tow. This last weekend (friday to monday) I spent climbing with friends in Saint George. It was excellent. There are some pics on my facebook. Click and see!

This weekend the plan was to go to Devils Tower in Wyoming, but the weather doesn't seem to be cooperating. Perhaps a dose of Sesame Street would help that. They seemed to be able to get any two groups or individuals to cooperate. My guess is that I'll just end up in Indian Creek or maybe in the San Rafael Swell. Either way, something exciting.

Since this is the most typing I've done in quite some time, I think I'm going to post this as a blog, but the email is just for you Derrick. You're the man.

Price

Adventure ... So far so good, but could be better.

2009-02-22T20:24:00.000-08:00

On Thursday, I drove out of Draper, UT and took my time getting down to Las Vegas, Nevada.

My first destination was the lovely Red Rocks Recreation Area for a little rock climbing. That night I found out that Canada had invaded the continental US. Or at least there were close to 100 people from all parts of Alberta. Apparently, it was "reading week" in their universities, so a lot of them came down to Nevada to climb. I think they meant to invade, but then realized that they are all Canadians, so they don't have any guns. On that note, they tried to cover up their embarrasment by claiming that they had diven hundreds of miles to climb rocks. Yeah right.

Anyway, I ended up making friends with quite a few canadians, their jars o' pasta, and their buddy "eh". On friday I did some climbing which was excellent. I definitely want to spend more time in Red Rocks.

That evening I drove to Fontana, California to get ready for the Nascar races. Saturday consisted of getting tickets for all 3 events, going to two of them, deciding that I didn't want to watch the 3rd, selling that ticket, and driving back to Las Vegas to do some more climbing.

Climbing was great today, but the weekend's events truly manifest one of my greatest challenges in life ... slowing down. In retrospect, there are a lot of things that I would have done differently here in the opening stages of my trip. Had I known that my driver was going to win the race today, I would have liked to have stayed for that race. Retrospect, and what I would have done, however, is nothing more than not accepting responsibility for my actions.

Warning: I'm about to get all philisophical and phillistinical.

So here I am. I meant to travel all the way back to Salt Lake today, but it was not to be. I drove my Trooper as far as Mesquite, parked it and packed a bag. I sat by the freeway entrance for about an hour before anyone stopped. I had told myself that I would only accept a ride that would get me all the way back to Draper. My weakness really showed through when the first car stopped. They were only going to St. George. I knew I was falling into a trap, one that I was creating, but in a desperate grab at small success, I cut short from my long term goal and got in the car.

St. George turns out to not be a real friendly place for hitchhikers. The freeway entrance isn't conducive to people stopping, even if they would. It's impossible to hitchhike southbound at the exit where I had been dropped off. The hours ticked away, and I rotated between going to the gas station and asking for rides and sitting down by the freeway ramp with my thumb out.

Then it got dark.

Then it started to rain.

I went back up to the gas station and called a shuttle service. That would cost me $65-more than just getting a hotel room. I couldn't camp because I hadn't packed the necessary camping equipment. I had planned on making it all the way back to Salt Lake that evening. What a mess!

It was too dark to thumb rides, and no one was stopping anyway, so I headed back up to the Flying J and started asking for a ride either way. I didn't care if I had to backtrack to Mesquite and sleep in my car. I just didn't want to spend the night bumming around the Flying J until they called the cops on me. No rides ... no rides ... one lady said she would, but she just didn't feel comfortable with the situation. I could understand that. I needed a ride, but I definitely didn't want to make anyone feel uncomfortable, or harrassed.

I didn't ask minivans full of families for just that reason, but I did ask a guy next to a minivan full of the Johnson family, and the Johnsons came through for the human race. I loaded up in the back next to Talla, their black German Shepherd, and they gave me ride back to my car in Mesquite.

More importantly, they gave me a lot of faith that there are still some people out there who aren't just kind, but have a spine to back that up. I waved my thumb at a thousand cars today. Most people just averted their eyes. Some revved their engines in mockery at my chosen situation. Some people though, looked right at me ... with sympathy in their eyes and nothing in their SUVs, and then they drove on by, wishing all the time that they could have picked up that nice-looking young man. The situation just didn't allow it.

Let's exercise our human compassion ... A time is coming when we won't be able to just write a check to such and such charity and know that we've made the world safe, well-fed, and Christian. The time to exercise the 13th Article of Faith is here. No excuses. Let the kindness flow.

Thanks to the Johnson family, who didn't just pick up a hitchhiker in need tonight. They made a friend. They showed courage. They demonstrated what faith/kindness coupled with actions can do. I'll sleep warm tonight.

Becoming what I came from

2009-02-05T21:31:00.000-08:00

I find myself turning into my father. It's more than simple actions, doing the things he does. Mannerisms, behavior, looks, are all following patterns I've seen before. I think that I am often acutely aware of things that are beyond my control. Or even if such behaviors are in my control, I choose not to suppress them.

I doubt highly that I can explain the subtleties in my maturation that I am trying to express. Let's just say this: Today when making juice from concentrate, I added extra water. Dad, it used to bug me so bad when you would do that. Today, I had no control. It was as if my hand had a mind of it's own. In went the extra half can of water.

On a funnier note, today I cleared out the entire Talmage Building on BYU campus. After welding pipe and burning insulation, and using a cutting torch within a few feet of this smoke detector, this afternoon, from four stories up, I dropped a six inch piece of copper pipe. It bounced down a ventilation shaft, and squarely hit said smoke detector. It was a one in a million shot. I can't believe it set off the alarm. So that was fun.

Finally, I would like to second Joe's recommendation of Bon Iver, and even make another of his songs available for those who wish to sample his work. Go buy the album. The song is Blood Bank.

Song is now uploaded. Download at will.

Now I'm just bragging

2009-01-30T23:38:00.000-08:00

I'm going to try to keep updating this map. Scroll way out in a day or two. I'll get stuff besides the GT on in. Click on the damned placemarks.

View Larger Map

So, I bloggered

2009-01-27T20:30:00.000-08:00

Sorry, It's been a long time. I've been busy, but not overwhelmed. I just haven't blogged, so here are some random thoughts and photos to occupy the page.

2008 was a good year. I'll try to think of some countdown and best-of lists for a later post. Music was good. Friends were great. Climbing was incredible.

No soda months: I think I did 4 or 5 no soda months last year. I didn't quite make it all the way through December, but I count it still. No soda months are great for me. First I decide that I'm not going to drink so for such and such month. Then I suffer through 2 or 3 days of caffeine withdrawal and then I feel great. I work out more. I drink more water. I really feel noticeably better. So why do I go back to soda?? Because I love Pepsi. Why don't I marry Pepsi? Maybe I will

Ice climbing was my most recent adventure. Alex dragged me to Ouray, Colorado, and I couldn't be happier that he did. The ice was "hero" ice, which means that the ice tools stuck into it well and made it easier to climbs. Still, it was difficult climbing the straight vertical ice walls. All of the pitches were at least 100 feet long, many over 120 feet. A lot of the solid ice was covered with chandelier like ice that had to be knocked down before the tools would sink in and could be pulled on. Adam Riser shot this incredible photo. I hope he doesn't mind me linking to it.

I've got the travel itch bad, and lotrimine is not taking care of it. Devan and I are working on a big, complicated cooling system for a server room at BYU. With Devan under the weather a lot these days, I've gotten to take some of the responsibility for this one. Granted, I've screwed up a few things. It's taking longer than I thought it would, but when it's done, I'm definitely hitting the road. It will likely just be a road trip. I don't know if Central America is going to happen this year. I had a dream about a Mexican beach last night. It almost hurt to wake up. I miss that place.

I worry about my friends and family, but I don't let it get me down. I know that everyone that chooses to can be happy in this life. People have to make those decisions, though. Even with troubled economy, sickness, and sadness, we'll all make it through. There is a lot of bad energy out there, and a lot of places that it attacks the goodness of life. I hope it doesn't sound too selfish, though I know that in a way it is. I won't let sadness, bitterness, vanity, pride, or even other people that don't want to be happy get in the way of my own happiness. I'm determined that life is just so so good. I love it. I hope all my friends and family do too.

Be good out there.

Price

Uncle Ralph

2008-12-15T21:50:00.000-08:00

My uncle Ralph passed away this morning. He's the first of my Dad's siblings that I have known well to die. (My uncle Val passed away when I was very young.) So . . . with my current philosophies and lifestyle, I choose to celebrate his life and the memories I have of him, but I'd be a lying son of a gun if I didn't admit that I am rather sad at this moment, More on that later. I don't want this blog to be about me, but rather about Uncle Ralph and what a good guy he was.

Uncle Ralph lived in Tuscon, AZ. I'm pretty sure that his family was the most distant of all the Prices. Still, he seemed to make it up to Carey, ID every Memorial Day to visit the family and Grandpa's grave almost every year. When I was five years old, Dad, Julia, Grandma, Grandpa Elmo and I drove in Grandpa's silver Toyota van down to Arizona to go to Lisa (Ralph's daughter) and Tommy's wedding. I was little, but I remember Uncle Ralph setting up a pinata for all the kids. I remember his house fairly well, and especially the back yard. (because it scared me for some reason)

Some years, after the usual Memorial Day trek though Carey and Pecaboo, all the cousins would end up in Burley at Uncle David's house. Only one person could water ski at a time, but five or six people could be on the water weinie at any given moment. It was the goal of the given Uncle driving the boat towing the big yellow tube to make enough twists and turn, big waves, and speed to violently dump all of the riders into the cold Snake River water. No one, and I repeat no one, knew how to violently dump poor Price kids in the river like Uncle Ralph. There were cousins who would refuse to ride when Uncle Ralph got behind the wheel. :)

It's too bad I didn't get down to see him this last year when I was half living in Phoenix. Tuscon is a pretty short drive from where I spent my off time. Still, I know that my Uncle was a great guy. He deserves to have his life celebrated, just like we all should. He kept kicking until the end, and that's all anyone can do.

Just one of those nights

2008-12-04T22:40:00.000-08:00

Pandora is being kind to me tonight. The music is soothing. My body is tired from climbing and running.

I know that I spray often about how good life is. It's unlikely that I'll stop any time soon.

My heart has been tugging at me to do a few things in the next year. They're hardly resolutions, just desires. Here goes:

Road/Climbing Trip - As long as the Trooper will hold up, I want to visit parts of Utah, Nevada, California, Arizona, Texas and Mexico and climb there. I want to live on the road. I can sleep in the car. I even bought a TomTom. I still need to find myself a portable stove of sorts, but I have food storage for several months and the motivation to climb.

Central America Trip - This one seems to be fading, but it will come back to me. I may be able to combine it with the road trip. If I end up in Texas, it would be a great jumping off point. South I shall go.

Anasazi - I want to work(ha!) for a couple weeks. I could use the quick money, yeah, but I really just want to go out, live in the woods, and see the miracles that happen on the trail. I'll go. There's no doubt.

It would be a shame for me to post this and none of the good songs that I've been listening to. So, enjoy some common, but good songs:

Ray

Denison

Wilco

Going to the Chapel

2008-11-23T17:15:00.000-08:00

So, I went to Mormon church this week. 3 hours of church is a lot of Church. There's no way that's going to happen every week. Well, if you can stream video, here are a couple about the Mo's that I think are . . . enjoyable.

Mormon Axe commercial:

Extreme Mormons:

Bah Humbug? To whom it may concern . . .

2008-11-12T20:03:00.000-08:00

I've debated writing this blog simply because I suspect it will generate a decent amount of flame, and it's going to be a promise that is not so easy to keep. Hear me out:

This year, 2008, I will not be giving or receiving gifts of commercial/monetary value. That will be firmly enforced, kept, whatever. Please. I kindly ask anyone who feels obligated or whatever need you feel, read the blog. It is my sincere, sincere desire to do this one time. Those who wouldn't have gotten me anything anyway, Thanks. Also, I invite you to consider what I have to say. Before this gets any real attention(like anyone really cares), let me plead my case a little.

First, this is a cheap experiment if nothing else. I've had 28 Christmases so far in this life. I suspect I'll have a few more. If I do this one time and it sucks, there's no real loss. It's immaterial. It will be forgotten and drowned out by all the other jolly holiday seasons throughout the rest of my life.

Second, and I'm beginning to think most importantly, "Xmas" has gotten way too commercial. Thanks for the insight, Charlie Brown. While from an economic standpoint, we need to spend to strengthen the economy . . . well, this seems like an ideal year to just go ahead and let the economy tank. After it bottoms out, we can all buy stock and wait for the next bubble. Anyway, I think think that separation of church, state, and economy is a good idea. I don't condone Mormons warping their religion and "beliefs" in profit seeking activities. It's follow the Prophet. Seriously, those of you who own "Sons of Helaman/Momma's Boys shirts and Greg Olsen paintings . . . really? Your muscles aren't that big, and Jesus was never that airbrushed. I'll offer some alternatives for gift giving at the end of the post, perhaps some that are more in line with gold, frankincense, and myrrh . . . or the mortal birth of a God.

Lastly, money is an issue. I'm doing alright. I have sufficient for my needs. I have learned a lot regarding money in the most recent period of my life. More than I learned in four years of college, and another four working in the corporate world. No matter how cliche, money and "things" do not equal happiness. Stop kidding yourselves. Think about all the times in your life that you were truly happy. If images of boats, big houses, and fancy clothes come to mind, readjust your priorities. Repent. If, however, hard work, family, friends, health, and contentment come to mind, I would invite you to look into where that happiness really came from. Debt and extravagance more than anything stem from love of money. They are killers, and true evils in our society. Those who build their enormous mansions as close to the Temple as possible should consider the humble beginnings, the simple life, and the sacrifice of the Savior. I declare that you mock him more through your vanity than the thief or the liar.

“The worst fear that I have about this people is that they will get rich in this country, forget God and His people, wax fat, and kick themselves out of the Church and go to hell. This people will stand mobbing, robbing, poverty, and all manner of persecution, and be true. But my greatest fear for them is that they cannot stand wealth; and yet they have to be tried with riches, for they will become the richest people on this earth” (Brigham Young, reported in James S. Brown, Life of a Pioneer [1900], 122-23).

Wow, that was a tangent . . .

I think that my experiment will be a huge success. Instead of material gifts, let's give each other time. Let's educate each other and lift each other up. Let's feed each other.

Finally, my gift requests:

Dad - I'd like to hear some stories about Uncle Val. I'd really like for you to climb with me down in Little Cottonwood Canyon. The winter is a great time as long as the sun is out, so next time you're down here plan on it.

Mom - I'd like some of your delicious food. I would also like for us to pick up an old family tradition that's been forgotten over the years(How the Grinch stole Christmas, pulling people out of snowbanks with the suburban, whatever.) Hell, I'll go sing to the neighbors with you.

Sisters - Hmm . . . I guess I'm going to sound like Dad on this one, but I just want you to be happy. One specific time when drama or disaster comes into your life, I want you to take a step back and just say, "I'm not going to let this get me down, and I'm doing it for Jason."

Brian - I want you to submit a bid to build my friends' house. I'll see about getting you a copy of the plans. I need to hear from you more often. Maybe you should come climb too. I bet you'd be better than me in no time.

Friends - Just be my friends. I'm grateful for all you do for me. There is no way I could be out of debt, and having as much fun in my life right now if it weren't for very good friends.

Merry Christmas!

Have some pictures:

Why I like cams

2008-10-31T12:02:00.000-07:00

I really like my cams, and as I've explained before, they allow me to climb rocks without having someone else go up and place bolts.

A cam works by having at least two and up to four spring-loaded, rounded metal lobes(1) that oppose each other. The spring allows the lobes to be pulled in, by a trigger bar(3), making the cam head more narrow. Then the lobes are placed in a crack in the rock, they expand, and hold tight. A stem(2), either single or U-shaped, extends from the axle running between the lobes. The rope is clipped to this stem by a carabiner(4), often attached to a nylon sling(5).

When a climber falls, force is applied which pulls on the stem causing the lobes to expand even further. This outward pressure is transferred to the rock, and combined with friction in a good placement, the cam holds in place.

The rounded lobes are actually curved in a logarithmic spiral. This is important because it allows the outward pressure caused by the expanding lobes to always have the same angle. If the lobes were just circular round, the angle of the outward pressure would change depending on how far engaged the lobes were when placed in the rock. I'll go ahead and steal an illustration to help me explain this part.

(There are a lot of people who have explained this a lot better than I can.)

Here's a nice diagram that Metolius provides:

Anyway, this blog started out as a post about my first time falling on trad gear. Thing is, since I started this blog, I've fallen on the gear more than once, and the excitement and luster of trad virginity has slightly faded. Only slightly though. It's turning into trad love. I fell on the yellow TCU (Metolius "three-cam unit") on a climb called "Extreme Unction" in the most beautiful canyon in the Wasatch.That's Jerad getting ready to go up second and clean all my fancy cams up.

I fell again on a yellow TCU in the San Rafael Swell on a climb called "Anchors from Hell".
The picture doesn't do the climb any justice at all. The climb is a finger crack in a tight dihedral with scary moves up at the top. I actually fell just a little bit off the ground, but it was still nice to have the gear hold me off the deck.

I'm going to take the liberty of linking a photo that Adam (friend) took of Alex climbing on "Old Bushmill's" crack. I was actually able to climb this crack cleanly and didn't have to test any of the gear that I placed. (It would have held fine)

This crack is in a really wide dihedral and goes from rattly fingers up to big hands in size.

I climbed it twice before I felt like I was ready to lead it, and by then, it was the end of the day. I was sure shaky, and almost slipped out of the crack in a few places. It was exhilarating to get up there and clip the anchors. I almost hated to be lowered back down to the horizontal world. If anyone ever gets a chance to climb something like this, don't let it go. Crack climbing is dangerous and painful and so so rewarding.

Climb safe out there.

Price

Comes a Time

2008-10-25T17:56:00.000-07:00

"Oh oh, This old world keeps spinning 'round.
It's a wonder tall trees ain't laying down.
There comes a time . . ."

Summer is a season for love. Fall is a season for solitude. There's something magical that happens in the air. It makes the leaves turn color, and makes every breath bite like crisp apples. Those leaves turn color because all the world is beautiful in the fall. They aren't preparing for winter. They love the fall, just like me, so they dress it up and make themselves pretty.

Some have questioned some of my decisions in the last few months . . . particularly regarding a relationship that ended. I'm content. My mind is not focused on careers or family, no matter how society, the Church, my parents or anyone else wants it. My mind constantly wanders to 5.12, how good the cold air feels in my breast, rhythm, classical guitars, the burning soreness in my arms. I wanted my drive home two nights ago to never end. 90.9 just kept giving me new wonderful flavors of music. The air blowing in my face was like kissing the prettiest girl.

I'm happy where I am, and I think back on the relationship I had. It was as perfect a relationship as anyone could have. No drama, no stress, lots of love and fun. So why did it end? It just did. Why did God decide to make fall such an amazing time to be alive? Things like this don't require explanation. They cannot because there is none. There just comes a time . . .

Just one more thing that puts fall head and shoulders above the rest. Climbing, of course. I climbed Mexican Crack (5.10a) in LCC today. I onsighted that climb. I placed cams and nuts, and thought that I would fall, but the cool air sucked the moisture off the rock and allowed my hands to stick. I never had to test the placements of my climbing gear, and I'm happy about that.

Mexican Crack is pretty easy to spot once you know where it is. It's the only crack on this rock. It diagonals up and left, if you are still lost. :)

Jared showing me the way . . . up.

To live a simple life is all I need. :)

Making a Tick List

2008-10-05T21:41:00.000-07:00

So,

I try to keep track of all the rock climbing I do. It satisfies me to get home from climbing and immediately get on mountainproject.com to tick off the routes I've done.

I've recently started trad climbing which is an amazing new experience. I'd say it's nearly impossible to understand the difference until you've been out there and done it. It allows you to go places that weren't "designated". Uncharted territory is cool even if it's been done before and is in all the guide books and has anchor chains at the top. There's just something about it. Comparison: Rock Band vs. playing guitar - Both quite satisfying, only one feels real.

That being said, I've also climbed in the gym a lot lately which has made me strong. Kind of like playing lots and lots of air guitar. (stole photo/Sharma dab)

Here are some of the places I've climbed over the last 6 months or so. (many pictures linked/stolen)

Grand Teton, WY:

Wind River Range, WY:

Near Mesquite, NV:

Wasatch Range, UT:

Moab, UT:

City of Rocks, ID:

(I stole Moab and Big Cottonwood)

The best wall ever?

2008-09-22T09:24:00.000-07:00

Lime Kiln Canyon sits about 12 miles outside of Mesquite, NV. I know that of the 2 people who read this, rock climbing isn't among your to 100 or so interests, but I have to show this place off a little.

Summers and I went to the nascar truck race in vegas, and I had read about this place in a magazine. I'm sick right now, so my writing is really sucking. I can tell. Let me get to pictures.

Do me and you the favor of clicking on the pictures so you can see them in big. It will be worth the extra mouse movement. I promise.

Here's me leading a hard 5.10:

Our new friend Jason higher up on the same wall:
And a portrait so you can see how huge this place is:I may spend some time in the Utah/Nevada/Arizona corner this winter. I mean, look at this place. It's amazing.

A song I seem to like

2008-09-10T17:57:00.000-07:00

Joshua Radin's Star Mile

New days for Due nays

2008-09-08T21:55:00.000-07:00

I don't really know what that title means.

I'm having a great time with this whole life thing. Callie and I went climbing at the City of Rocks last weekend and had an amazing time. Callie is amazing and I'm not sure what I ever did to have such a pretty girl like me, but I'd do it again.
A couple weeks before that we made a trip through the Darby Canyon ice caves. I'm rock climbing nearly every day, or at least "plastic" climbing.

I think that besides the constant ache of arthritis in my hands, I'm as healthy as I've ever been.

My family is great to me, and my friends' families treat me like their own. I can't believe the amazing gift that life is.

I think that my uncle Val must have had a life like mine. I have a few of the things that he left behind, and I hear good things about him on a regular basis.

If perchance my time passed away, I do want to make some final requests, though I pray that final days won't come for a long long time.
1. Bury me in a pine box. I know that funerals are supposed to be some big expensive cry fest, but if I go, just put me in the ground and celebrate how amazing a life I got to live. Have a party, and if you don't, I'll come haunt you.

2. My things are few, but let Sam and Devan and Summers pick through what they want and then I don't know, sell the rest on ebay or something.

3. Burton Cemetery - It just seems like a good place to rest.

4. Just be happy and live your lives. Things are not what make life great. Life is. Don't spend your lives buried in work you don't like, or play you don't like for that matter. Drink (unfiltered) from a mountain stream sometime. Take a risk that you never have before. Stop and help someone change a tire. Give away something you think you love. You'll find that you don't miss it at all.

I'll stop now for fear of becoming a motivational quotes calendar . . . but just know that my life is good. I'm happy. I hope you are too.

2008-08-13T16:13:00.000-07:00

I was writing up a blog about my recent trip to the Wind River range in Wyoming, but I'll just post a couple pictures and a link for a song that I've really fallen in love with recently.

Here's Ray LaMontagne's Empty

And here are some climbing/mountain photos:

For Me and my people of Malta

2008-06-28T16:37:00.000-07:00

That's all.

If I can just make it to June 1st

2008-05-01T20:15:00.000-07:00

2008-04-29T16:17:00.000-07:00

In the beginning, Jesus did some skywriting.

"You betta' be believin'."

Some Del Parson ripoffs in there. I wonder how he feels about that.

What I've done today

2008-04-21T12:51:00.000-07:00

Today is an excellent day. I make every day that way.

Today I woke up from excellent dreams. These excellent dreams involved excellent friends and excellent girls.

I have an excellent sister. She has an excellent husband and an excellent son. He's an excellent nephew.

I went for an excellent run. It made me excellently tired. My companion on this run was an excellent dog.

I took an excellent shower.

I ate an excellent lunch. I made this lunch with rice, raisins, milk, sugar, cinnamon, and honey. All of which were excellent ingredients.

I am listening to excellent music.

I have had an excellent time writing this blog. I hope you had an excellent time reading it.

In fact, I hope that today is the most excellent day of your life. If it's not, give me a call and I'll do everything I can to help.

Be excellent to each other.

Trip Report - Middle Leprechaun Canyon

2008-04-16T12:13:00.000-07:00

Okay, Time for a real blog.

I'm still having trouble getting up to speed with my typing, so bear with me. (ha ha, bear)

Dodge and Krissy and I, after a wonderful night of chatting and jimmer-jammering around the campfire, got up and finally got going around 9:45 am. I hadn't read over the beta for the canyon, but I figured I mostly knew where I was going and I only got us lost once on the way up. I would have gotten us lost on the way down, but there's only one way to go.

Here's Dodge and Krissy, and you can see the canyon that would be descended zig-zagging down the middle-right side of the frame.

They really had no idea what they were getting into at this point.

You see, Middle Lep is one of the narrowest slot canyons around. Krissy is tiny, and Dodge disappears when he turns sideways, but even so, they thought the canyon was awfully tight. This is the canyon that stole my wallet about a year ago. Read about that one here.

So in we went. Krissy rappelled the first drop, after that we put the rope away and it was just a lot of squeezing, stemming, and downclimbing. Dodge and Krissy were troopers and the canyon was really a walk in the park considering how difficult most people find that descent. Teeny-tiny and skinny really does help here.

I'll just skip to pictures now. No point in bringing up Leprechauns, unicorns, or desert fairies.

Well, She didn't make it down all the drops without help. Thanks Dodge.

The Sandstone is very fluid in parts of this canyon.

This is from a scene from Titanic or Alice in Wonderland, or something.

The end.

It's been a long time, now I'm coming back home

2008-04-16T09:32:00.000-07:00

There's no way I'll bore everyone that reads this with one long blog, so for the sake of both of you, I'll divide it up.

First, the end of an era. Maybe it's not the end of an era, but it's the fading out of an era. I don't believe that I've worked my last week at Anasazi foundation. I don't think I've ended my time in the wilderness with young people. It is something that I believe in, and it makes my life better.

I came back to Utah to be around family and friends, all the while knowing that they have lives and jobs that they must attend to. I think it's the 2 inches of snow we've received since April 14 that's really getting me down. I wanted to go back to climbing right away. The snow will melt though, and my nephew will get to know me, and things will be good. I'm positive about it. I don't want to sound like I'm down either. I'm just a little put out that I'm not out doing things. If anyone knows me, they know that I'm a doer, and not a sitter. I have constant need for adventure and an appetite for destruction.

I cut my hair, and trimmed my beard. I'm here, it's me. So listen up.

Feb 19, Two thousand whatever . . . .

2008-02-19T22:22:00.000-08:00

I ease my '95 Isuzu trooper onto Baseline Road in third gear. I'm tired of shifting. It's just one more drop in the bucket of what's become an exhausting day. There are to-do lists that grow with every blink of an eye and I've spent more than I wanted to . . . again. Seems that the simple life is a pretty complicated goal for this mind. My head hurts just enough to annoy me, but the pain is bearable. My appetite has been gone for two days, ever since I bit my tongue. The little canker sore at the very tip makes me loath food and anything else that would upset his delicate little world. He thrashes and burns whenever something disturbs his slumber. He's definitely best left alone.

It always smells like cows as I drive down Recker. It's a wonder that anyone lives in a town like Gilbert, Arizona. It's a wonder that it's constantly expanding, or at least that the new houses haven't driven the dairy farms away. The houses are like mistletoe on an old oak tree. They'll soon suck all the available resources away, and the dairy farms will have to quit spreading their rank manure on the land. People won't stand for it on their lawns.

There are so many lights. Each one of them burns into my retinas like battery acid. There are so many lights. Even the reflectors that mark the lanes send the light from my corrosive headlights back into my mind, reminding me that I'm contributing to the horrible pollution that blocks out God's little decorations in the sky. Oh well, it's a full moon. At least that's visible. My old friend, my one-time answer to a prayer, my half-month salvation in the wilderness.

I hit next . . . wait a second . . . next, next, next. All the songs sound the same. Wait . . . what's that one? I don't recognize this. How in the world did that get on my Ipod? I like that song, but I need something new. Nothing is quite new enough, nothing that I've added recently. I should really be content with the old, the classic, and the faithful. Smashing Pumpkins seem to be making a strong stand against the new. Maybe the new just won't cut it. Maybe the talent ran out in the early 2000s.

Things are about to get good though. Things are going my way. Ha! There are a lot of stop signs in this neighborhood. The subdivision just south of this one doesn't have any. Do they have more wrecks? I doubt it. I'll justify it that way as I roll through one. I haven't seen the sheriff in the black SUV that patrols my streets in a little while. He's just waiting for me to roll through a stop. It's his evil scheme. There he sits, rubbing his fingers and hands together, up and down, like an evil witch on some old Disney cartoon. Nope, not tonight, but soon.

So now . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . home.

This is for all the lonely people . . . who like to climb mountains.

2008-02-03T16:30:00.000-08:00

Not really. I'm actually in a pretty good mood, and despite recent events, I've been meaning to write up this blog for some time. Emily gave me the fortune that she got out of a cookie when we were up in Idaho.
"Finding true love is like climbing a mountain. You must keep climbing until you reach the summit."
I was immediately reminded of this picture:
Let me talk a little bit about how finding love is like climbing a mountain, and how it is not. I'll try to use pictures to illustrate my main points.

You don't have to keep going until you reach the summit. Sometimes it's just plain unwise. In the photo that you see, Two Jasons and a Joe are looking in great disappointment toward the summit of the Grand Teton. There was a snowstorm blowing in and we had to turn around just a couple hours from the summit. If we had kept going, who knows? We could have been killed, or had to call Harrison Ford to come rescue us. Sometimes it's best to examine the situation that you are in and decide to keep going or turn around.

Some of the most amazing mountains are far far away and yet to be discovered. There are beautiful mountains that I've seen in Chile. You can drive clear up into the tops of them. Honestly, a lot of mountains these days have roads going up them, so it's not that hard to get to the top. On some of the biggest mountains in the world you may have to hike, but you can pay Sherpas to pack all of your stuff up for you. Wasn't it the Beatles who didn't think that money could buy them love? Silly Beatles. So here's a picture of me on top of a little mountain in Chile.
Some mountains are really photogenic. Some are really easy to summit. Mountains and love. They're so similar.

So how are they different? Well, you don't necessarily want you and your friends trying to "summit" the same girl at the same time. That just makes for hard feelings. Most mountains can be best enjoyed in the company of your companions.

If you climb more than one mountain in a month you don't get in trouble. It's not just your guy friends who think it's cool, and the mountains don't ever get pissed. They're rather ecstatic for you if anything.

If you get to the summit or true love with a girl, you should do your best to stay there. With a mountain, it's usually best to get a few pictures, enjoy the view for a bit and then head down before the weather rolls in. Hmm . . . I guess the same could be said for some relationships. That one could be similar or not.

You can climb the same mountain years later. The trip can be as enjoyable as the very first time. I wouldn't recommend that you do that with your relationships.

So really, do you need to work toward the summit? I'll just keep enjoying the hike and let you know when I get there. I'm not going to guarantee that the summit is any better than the saddle or the canyon, or even the meadows.

Price

If Joe can, I will

2008-01-16T13:24:00.000-08:00

MiscellaniaFlagstaff, AZ

1. Pictures - I don't even know where my camera is. I've pretty much been on the trail for the last 3 months, and since I can't take a camera out there, I haven't really bothered finding the dang thing. I do miss taking pictures and posting about my adventures. I have started every sentence in this blog with the word "I".

2. Friends - You have not been forgotten. Upon receiving your voicemails and text messages, I have promptly felt guilt and yet not taken the time to call you back. Even as I type this, I wonder why I haven't called Jason Miller, Jeff Andrus, Joe Griffin, my little brother, the Gregories. Sorry guys. I'm feeling a little exhausted, but I'll call each of you before this short off-week is over.

3. WFR training - I'm a wilderness first responder, did you know? This means that if we're out in the woods, I can reduce your dislocated shoulders, fingers and elbows. You have to keep your head still until I perform a focused spinal assessment, so just don't move. Also, if I don't have any latex gloves with me, don't expect me to touch you, especially if you're bleeding profusely. It's rule #3.

Actually WFR training was really cool. Here are the crazy instructors, Shari and Pete.These two are crazy. Why is the bold messed up on the blogger? WFR training is a lot more than class time. It's scenarios with fake blood and guts and amputated hands. It's real life hypothermia, and how to take care of it, so whoever thinks that Anasazi is out to kill kids, well, I know how take care of them.

This was one of my patients during the night rescue. It was about 20 degrees cold that night. This guy had to be carried out in a litter, and luckily survived to tell his tale of climbing the tree to escape a bear. I kept singing the Davey Crockett song to him, but I don't think he was amused. Having your guts poking out through your abdomen wall is never a pleasant experience. The worst I ever received during the training was a broken collar bone and sever asthma. Weak!

4. Anasazi - Greatest thing to ever happen to a lot of struggling families. Why? Well, kids do get cold. There's some danger of getting hurt. Hey, sometimes they're even angry about being sent out into the woods/desert. Anasazi gives families a chance to have a new beginning. It's no guarantee that everyone is going to have a perfect life. I'd guess that a lot of the kids that leave our program go back to what they were doing before. It's a chance, an opportunity. It's a place where seeds of greatness are uncovered and have an opportunity to grow. That's all. I met a young walker who was on the trail 13 years ago this week. He doesn't have a perfect relationship with his family. He doesn't always make the right choices. He even thinks that some of the stuff that Anasazi does is pretty ridiculous. That's what he told me anyway. Then he proceeded to tell me about all the good times that he had out on the trail. He told me about how Ezekiel's kids were really cool. He told me about his remembrance pouch and his gatherings bag. To say that Anasazi didn't have an impact on his life would be a bald faced lie. It's a good thing, and it's saved many more lives than it has endangered.

5. Summer - I don't think that I'll be staying at Anasazi any later than May. I'll need to make some money to pay off debts this summer. I'd like to go do some traveling. I'll be looking for a good job that doesn't involve the word "sales" and has a close proximity to the Salt Lake Valley. If you have something in mind for me, I'd be willing to come as soon as mid-April, so let me know.

6. Goals - Well, I'm not making goals to get married, get a real job, or even cut my hair this year. I just won't do it. I will however work on thinking about what I say, before I say it (or post it). I am trying to be completely honest, even when it means letting people know that they are right and I am wrong, or I am right and they are wrong. I'm not going to be critical of anyone, but I will judge righteously.

7. Tangible goals -
A. Get completely out of debt.
B. Climb the Grand Teton and go through the Darby Canyon Ice Caves at least once.
C. Take a backpacking trip in Central Idaho.
D. Go to Central America.
E. Feel the wind in my hair and the sun on my face.

8. Want list -
A. Spend time with my family.
B. Climb some rocks.
C. Spend time with old friends.
D. Gain some weight.
E. Listen to Cross-Eyed and Painless' new recording.
F. Peace and Love in the world.

Thanks to Pete and Tyler for the photographs.

A long crazy month of wilderness and wild

2008-01-06T17:03:00.000-08:00

A blog will hardly be adequate to cover where I've been, what I've done, and how I feel about the last month or so. I'm listening to a nice playlist that should be on a CD for Emily Gilliland right now, but, as will soon be shown, I haven't gotten nearly as much done as I would like to. The dates are just a frame of reference as I describe the last month+. They are not individual posts.

Nov 28 to Dec 5 - It's going to start about the 28th of November, my sister's birthday. I headed out to the trail thinking all the while that I needed to give my sister a call, but of course, I never got around to it, and being on the trail makes that kind of thing quite the impossibility. It was a good week with a band of teenage boys that needed a lot of love in their lives. It was skills week. The very famous Ryan family and the Holladay family showed up to teach trailwalkers and youngwalkers alike new and interesting primitive skills. Most learned how to carve soft stone into various shapes. I wasn't so much interested in carving the stone, but i took the opportunity to carve out a couple things and then help myself to the stone supply. I'll get around to carving the stone later. I had bigger frish to fly. Dave Holladay was kind enough to teach me a little about the art of flint knapping. Joe, I've got a pretty little arrowhead with your name on it. Well, it doesn't have your name on it, I'm not that good, but it's yours when I get a chance to give it to you. I made a pair of moccasins, but they need some work. My next pair will be better. I would have liked to learn some more survival skills from those in the knowledge, but Mother Nature would look after that soon enough.

After the skills teachers left, the rain came. It was already scouting, but seeing the wise teachers leave, the water sent in its entire infantry, heavy and light armor divisions, and calvary. I was lucky enough to have my band in a good place and plenty of firewood. I spent the next couple days crawling out of my shelter in three hour intervals to stack my fire 5 feet high and check my traps. Sometimes it would stop raining for a few minutes, sometimes it wouldn't. It was a fun dance, but I had no idea the danger the other bands were in. I figured they were like us and able to weather the storm quite easily. Hit up Emy-G for information on how to survive a flash flood that comes through camp in the middle of the night. She really saved the day there, and I must also shout out to Dodge, the Anasazi King of the Ridge, for his good actions in that disaster.

We eventually made it to our final destination for the week and since rain and mud had closed most of the roads out to the area, I was able to help with some logistical items. It gave me a swollen head, but I had a fun time, and I hope I earned some trust with the field team for what I did. My boys were good that week and they did what they had to do. The complaining was minimal, even though they kept passing around a bug that was giving them all diarrhea and the pukes. I chose not to share food (I never share food) and was able to avoid the illness.

Dec 6 - I had a day off after that which I spent mostly at the Anasazi office. I had expected to have an entire week off, but it wouldn't be so. A young walker had special need of my expertise, and so, on short notice (8pm) I agreed to head back out to the trail. This decision would prove to be a hard one. Not a bad one, but a hard one indeed. I had planned on taking the week to prepare to work 3 weeks in a row including Christmas and New Years. Now I would have one day.

Dec 7-10 - The days I spent with that young walker were hard, cold, and wet. I was hypothermic at least 3 times myself. The other trailwalker that was with me passed out in the snow and mud, and it was the first time in my Anasazi walking that I felt like survival skills were absolutely necessary to see us through. I won't make a longer story out of a long one, but I've seen hypothermia, looked it in the face, and laughed. It then proceeded to totally kick my ass.

Dec 11 - I spent this day in a dysfunctional car running around Mesa, Gilbert, and Tempe trying to round up the gear that I thought I might need for the upcoming 3 straight weeks on the trail. The gal I was with was super accommodating, and we had a good, though stressful, day. I believe that stress got the better of me that day, and I felt broken and bruised as I went back out to the trail the next day.

Dec 12-Dec 19 - Plans on the trail changed, I heard rumors and slanders, I didn't feel well. It was not shaping up to be the best week ever. Even so, I was with some of my favorite young walkers, and I was determined to make the most/best out of every situation. It ended up being a cold, but environmentally relaxed week. Sometimes when you have time to think about life, rather than staying alive, you can have a really good week. Well, I hadn't finished anything that I wanted to for Christmas and my thoughts were heavy all week. I didn't have a good week. It was hard, and I must admit that I am no superman, at least not all the time. I did what I had to though. I worked hard to love that people that I was with. The young walkers are easy to love. They are easy to see as people because I am with them. Nature doesn't allow them to hide their souls, and they are as honest as anyone can be anyway. I had a hard time loving those who were not there and those who I felt were not honest with me. Honesty is a natural cultivator of love, but I'll save that for another blog.

Dec 20-27 Christmas week. Quite possibly one of my favorite weeks on the trail, though it had very little to do with the dates or the holidays. The young walkers made this week special. We had the option to do easy hikes. We chose the hard ones. We could have been grumpy about the cold weather. We chose to be happy. We chose. Isn't choice a wonderful thing. When we chose to do right, do the hard, grow, be happy, etc, we strengthened our gift of choice. That's what life is all about, if I haven't mentioned it already. Christmas was a bag of non trail food until I got a letter from Emily. That made my Christmas choice a lot easier. Thanks, Gillz.

Dec 28-Jan 1 - I got the word that I would be able to come off the trail for a night to do intakes. Wild stories about this week too, but I'll give my readers and myself a break. I was happy to come home, and though my car only starts part time, I was able to get to where I needed to go and get done what I needed to.

Jan 3 - Now - I'm at WFR training. That's Wilderness First Responder. I'll save you if you break your back or get a hangnail or whatever and it's out in the middle of nowhere. Basically, all I do is make sure that your back isn't broken and send for help. That's what I've learned so far. :) Nah, I'm kidding. There's a lot more to it. I'm having fun, but I'm in the mood for a break. You? Yeah, I'll leave it at that. Maybe there's some humor I can end with. Hmm . . . What do you get when you cross and elephant and a rhinoceros? Eleph-ino, you? wah wah.

A new fire in my life

2007-11-27T23:21:00.000-08:00

I don't have some crazy story to tell. I have hundreds. Life in the wilderness is amazing, and the young people that I walk with teach me new things by the minute.

My family means the world to me. My friends are my richest treasures. I've got a good flame burning in my heart.

-Price

The Tuna Review

2007-10-30T11:35:00.000-07:00

I've never been a tuna kinda guy. Honestly, I don't really care for it now, but having gone from a healthy income to a ways below the poverty line for sanity's sake, sacrifices had to be made.
(how'd you like that alliteration?) Tuna is bearable, and it's good for me. I'm not one to add a bunch of mayo or sauce it up. Pepper is plenty to mask the fact that I'm eating the canned Pisces that I've always despised. I usually eat about a can a day, so that's 37.5 grams of protein, 2.5 grams of delicious fat, and a big fat goose egg in the carb category. Granted, it's followed by some crackers and probably a healthy drowning in soda, but the tuna itself is mighty good.

I'll just skip the "chunk light" category. I'm not going to eat the lips and butts of fish just because cow lips and butts taste spectacular all rolled up in a Maverik bahama mama hot dog. Besides, the solid white albacore tuna is better in both taste and quality than any canned chicken I've ever had. Just avoid the envelope packaging altogether. Even the albacore in the flat packages is horrific. Stick to cans.

All the albacore can usually be purchased for just under a dollar a can if bought on sale or at Costco, so price is irrelevant. We'll just stick to quality and taste.

The worst - Starkist:
Texture is consistent with oatmeal or chunk tuna. I don't know how they can claim that it is solid white albacore. This brand is best avoided, even if you find it on sale. Don't be tricked by the nerdy fish in the beret. He's a bad, bad fish.

Pretty good - Chicken of the Sea:
Texture is usually good, and you get the occasional solid-fillet-surprise upon lifting the lid. I look forward to popping the lid and seeing one big chunk of fish almost as much as I anxiously awaited waffles that stuck the the top of the waffle iron in my youth. The name is not deceiving. Chicken of the Sea is good and it goes down well. Also notable is moisture content. Even though you squeeze that lid hard enough to crush skittles, this tuna retains just about the right amount of moisture. Not too shabby.

Completely bearable - Bumblebee Tuna:
Great Texture, good taste, decent moisture content, almost always gives the solid-fillet-surprise. Just pepper and go. Sometimes you can actually see the grill marks on the fish. This is the way to eat canned seafood.

I hope you haven't been bored to tears, though I'm sure that hope is in vain. Get some more protein in your diet. BTW, all three claim to be dolphin friendly since April 1990.

Change of Heart - Lack of Photos

2007-10-15T07:49:00.000-07:00

I'll have to steal the pictures for this blog from other places on the interweb, so please forgive me. I'm not permitted to take pictures on the trail at Anasazi.

1. Friction Fire - While still difficult, certainly not impossible. I was able to create a coal and drop it into my tinder bundle shortly after I was shown correct methods and materials. Just after that I used a hand drill and got a burning coal on my first try. Wikihow has nothing on the people at Anasazi. I do have some small burns on my hands, because apparently, I was not instructed properly on how to hold my tinder bundle as I blew the coal into flames. It's rather necessary out on the trail since we don't have flashlights, lighters, matches, insect repellent, or even really warm gear. Out there, fire is life.

2. Cow tanks and sleeping on the ground - (had to straight steal this image from Gilz) Yeah, that's not the cow tank that I drank from, but it's only slightly greener. We don't filter our water, we drop it. Two drops of clorox per canteen. Well, I'm still here. Cow tanks are pretty much tiny man made lakes out in the desert. They get pretty gross. I really don't mind sleeping on the ground. It's just cold without anything between the body and the ground. Good thing for pine needles and leaves. It's also quite nice to heat up a rock in the fire and put it in the sleeping bag. Any number of sexual innuendos could be applicable here, but I'm not even going to start.

3. I'm T-pain, you know me - Imma buy U a drank, so just get used to it. One of the young walkers in my band had completely convinced himself that he was the rapper T-pain. Thing is, the other four young walkers were pretty well convinced of it as well. Actually, he was just a confused blond kid from the East Coast who wanted to buy everyone a drank. That kid has a heart of gold and he's laugh-out-loud funny. All of the young walkers have incredible potential, and they show it out there in the wilderness. Here's where my change of heart happened. I truly thought that I was going into the wild to babysit a bunch of punk kids who were too spoiled all their lives to obey their parents. I was humbled like a boxer in a gun fight. My expectations were left in ruins as I became part of a dynamic and interesting family. In true cliche style, I learned a lot more from them than they ever could have learned from me. I had decided to give Anasazi a "trial week" after which, I would return to Utah to climb rocks. Integrity would not be on my list of qualities if I were to turn and run now, so here I am. I'll be here a while, so for those of you who I should be missing, I will. Eight days on the trail and six days off make for ample visiting time, though, so plan on seeing me at regular intervals.

4. Trail food - Our supplies are plenty, but not exactly gourmet. Notable though is that these kids have learned how to make everything from muffins to lasagna in their little tin cups. I mostly stuck to simple foods-cheesy rice and lentils, corn meal, oats, and the occasional ash cake. Ash cakes are rather simple. They consist of flour, water, and whatever happens to be left in your food pack. Powdered cheese and chewed up tomatoes make a pretty good ash cake, brown sugar and chewed up almonds make a better one. You then clear the fire away so you have a nice bed of hot white ashes and toss it in. I suppose the ash probably helps digestion if anything. Chewing up ingredients is just part of cooking in the wild. It's the only way to make tomato sauce. You could spend an hour trying to cut up all the ingredients you need for a tasty dish, or you could quickly chew them up, or love them up as we like to say, and then spit them into the mix. Everything is cooked on the fire or in a steel cup like the one above. Even muffins. It's rather amazing.

Well, I'm here for a while. I'll try to blog on my time off, at least once a week. If you're not hearing from me, I'm in the woods, changing my heart for the better and inviting others to do the same. The Creator takes us to amazing places in this life.

Never enough!

2007-09-24T22:54:00.000-07:00

I'm pretty sure that all songs by the Cure are about sex. Yes, all of them.

It's been a few days since I've blogged, and it's not for lack of interesting occurrences in my life. I'm in Phoenix. So, working backward from here: I was in San Diego earlier today, La Jolla actually. Jason Miller returned home from a 9 month stint in Thailand, and he actually doesn't smell that back. We went climbing near Oceanside with Beaver, the owner of Prana, and a few of his friends. Before that, I met up with Jason in Orange County. Saturday night Summers, H and I went to the Nascar truck race in Las Vegas. Before that I was in Utah, doing all of my normal, yet exciting Utah activities. I actually climbed every day for 8 straight.

Here's Beaver. He's a hell of a guy.

Jason Miller. (co-pictured w/ Joe Griffin)

Tyson Crosbie.

I have 99 biners

2007-09-17T13:52:00.000-07:00

In my never ending attempts to injure myself while uninsured, I picked up my box of climbing gear and almost broke my back. Well, It was really heavy. Anyway, I tagged all my gear since it seems to be the cool-climber thing to do. Yellow is the color I chose. I somehow doubt I'm the first, but it should keep my stuff out of my friends' bags. At least now when I accuse them of stealing my gear I will have some evidence.

As I type here, the biners are all hanging above me, paint drying. There are 99 and I've been telling people that I probably have 100. Close enough, I say. If anyone who reads my blog cared in the least about climbing gear, it would probably not be wise to tell you that I also have 22 cams, 12 nuts, 3 belay devices, and enough nylon and dyneema webbing and slings to hang every traitor the catholic church ever had. That sounds rather gruesome, doesn't it? Well, I have a lot.

Summers, his wife, and I hit up Zion this weekend. I was humiliated by a crack climb, but I know very well that camming devices will hold my weight. That's a different story though. We descended Imlay canyon, and it really wasn't nearly as long/hard/dangerous as I remember. Maybe I've just gotten harder. I didn't bother with a lot of pictures. This canyon has a lot of stinky water that tends to destroy cameras and other electronics. Here are a couple shots I was lucky enough to get at the final rappel that dumps you into the narrows.

I need someone to sponsor me a new camera. That will be the next blog, but if you're thinking about it, here's a good reason:

I dare you to have a better 24 hours

2007-09-08T15:40:00.000-07:00

1. Wake up late with no pressures or stress.

2. Climb an 11,300 foot mountain by yourself.

3. Feel alive.

4. Meet up with friends.

5. Build a fire in a secluded spot in the mountains.

6. Play games, talk, and stare at the stars all night.

7. Go to sleep more tired than you've ever felt before.

Emergency Blog

2007-09-06T12:23:00.000-07:00

So, despite my desire to be gone . . . gone like the wind, I'm still here. The Prophet, the President, Common Sense, and Mother Nature have all advised us to have a 72-hour emergency kit. I bet you don't have yours. Anyway, here's what I put together for a 2-person kit. I'm just one person, so I'm either going to give this to my parents for Christmas, or sell it for what it cost me to put together.

If you're too lazy to spend a night running around Walmart and you'd like to survive the next major catastrophe, let me know. I'll do it for you. It all comes to about $200. Not too bad for at least 3 extra days of life.

Here you have it:

Water
6 gallons of bottled (jugged) water

Food
24-pack Nature Valley Granola Bars
Family size box of Wheat Thins
2 big cans of baked beans
2 cans of Nalley's Chili
2 Cans of Spaghettios
4 packages of Ramen noodles
1 jar of peanut butter
1 can refried beans
6 cans Tuna
2 cans Evaporated Milk
Pink Lemonade mix
Salt and Pepper

Candy
1 big bag of starbursts
1 big bag of Smarties
1 big bag of Twizzlers lic. bites
1 box spiderman fruit snacks

Eating Utensils
4 plastic bowls with lids
1 can opener
1 bottle opener
48 pkg plastic utensils

Hygiene
Soap
Shampoo
3 pkgs wet wipes
1 roll paper towels
3 washcloths
2 toothbrushes
toothpaste

Emergency Supplies
2 AA size flashlights
1 D size flashlight
1 Emergency Candle (60 hour burn time)
1 Full size first aid Kit
2 plastic rain ponchos
1 pair Leather Gloves
1 Fleece blanket
6 pack hand warmers
1 roll duck tape
1 package zip ties
4 pens
1 permanent marker
1 Notepad
1 Winchester brand multi-tool
1 package extra batteries (AA)
1 Car-size fire extinguisher
1 four-function whistle (whistle, magnifier, compass, something else)
1 package pepto bismuth (equate brand)
1 package water purification tablets w/ neutralizer

I haven't added, but will:
Waterproof Matches
Emergency blankets
Rope/acc. cord
Trail Mix (They didn't have the kind I like)

You'll want to add:
Cash
Personal Medications
Small battery powered Radio (I couldn't find one I liked at walmart, but I'll keep looking for us. Might raise the price $10 if I have to add it.)
Some old clothes
Emergency contact information
Extra ammunition for your sidearm
ahem . . . feminine products if needed

So, this blog is going to get a little longer, and while I'm on the subject of survival, I'd like to make honorable mention of a book.

Deep Survival by Laurence Gonzales is not a survival manual by the traditional sense. It's not going to teach you how to built a shelter out of termite feces or bombs out of gum. (Although a termite feces bomb is a really good idea)

This book focuses on how the mind works in survival situations. We face these situations every day, and some people develop a knack for survival. It's more than just be stranded on a mountain. It's business, family, inward thought, and more.

I've committed myself to be a survivor until the day I die. If you're not a survivor, start working on becoming one now. If that first sentence didn't make any sense to you, you're not a survivor and you better read the book.

Live long and prosper. Be excellent to each other.
Photo-chopping by yours truly

Boobies, and Boo Bees

2007-09-03T14:03:00.000-07:00

Had to kill us some hornets.

Deep Discovery

2007-09-01T16:36:00.000-07:00

I am a genius. Considering all the things that go on in my head, I can't bother to keep track of everything I need to document a trip deep into a mountain. The pictures were taken with Derrick's camera, so I won't take credit for any or all of them.

The dinner plate:

Derrick and I started hiking at 1/4 to nine. Darby Canyon is beautiful, and there was only one other car in the parking lot. There were a lot of cows, which fascinate Derrick. Why? No one knows. Derrick is just like that. He kept up well on the hike, in fact, he pushed me a little bit. We had a goal to be at the mouth of the cave by ten-thirty. We nailed it.Derrick at the mouth of the cave.

The mouth:

The mouth of the ice cave isn't very big, and after a climb over a little VW bug sized boulder, there is normally an ice floor with sparkly frozen walls. Oddly enough the walls weren't frozen where the ice normally begins, unfortunately, neither was the floor. Stemming is just another word for straddling, so that's what we did, for about twenty yards. Then disaster stuck. Well, the walls regained their frozen nature while the floor still had six inches of liquid water over the ice. Derrick was struck with the fear that grips those who are about to be turned away from adventure. It's actually a sort of relief for some, but I wasn't about to let a few inches of water turn me around.Stemming over the water

While still stemming over the water, I removed my shoes and socks one at a time and stepped down into the cold, cold water. I took my backpack to where the ice was solid about 10 yards down. Then I went back for Derrick . . . and you thought piggy-back rides were just for kids. My bare feet broke two inches further through the ice below the water. It was painful, but after drying off my feet and putting my shoes back on, I felt good enough to be swallowed. The cave had a taste and was very hungry.Brrr. . . cold feet.

The Throat:

After a few yards, the ice begins to slope. You can carefully step down the slope and risk a broken tail bone when you slip-you will slip-or you can get on your knees and enjoy the ride. It's just important not to go too far. The ice pitches down into a 45 degree angle, which must be rappelled, and then it gets real steep right before the esophagus.Derrick on the ice rap.

Mouth to First Stomach:

Down an overhung 70 foot rappel off the frozen waterfall to the big squeeze, the squeeze gets tight. Imagine trying to swallow grapes whole. Imagine trying to swallow little plastic army men. That's how the cave feels. The way I feel? Well, for 20 yards I've got a backpack in front of me blocking any view of what's ahead. I've got a backpack behind me that would block the view of my retreat, if it were only possible to crank my head around to look to my rear. I'm sandwiched in a tight tube of jagged limestone between two backpacks with just enough room to dig my toes and fingertips in and hump my way forward. I feel claustrophobic.It's a tight squeeze

Real tight

The big squeeze gives way to a low ceilinged room that widens enough to even stand up, if you're a dwarf. Seriously, it opens up a little, but only momentarily because then you have to pass through the corkscrew, a.k.a. sphincter #2.

Sphincter #2 through the End of the Stomachs:

The corkscrew is the vertical version of the big squeeze. It's not nearly as long, but it sure feels every bit as tight. The correct method is to have person number one squeeze through and then hand him all the backpacks and gear. Without trying to push a pack in front of you, it's actually doable, though still no easy feat. Derrick was slow through this, but did it all the same. What choice did he have.My rear end going up the squeeze.

Derrick is stuck

Out of the corkscrew squeeze is another stomach, a confusing stomach. You basically turn and head back in the direction you just came from. It's just on a different level. Scramble down this stomach and you'll reach a rappel. It drops you into another room and you just stay on the rope and rap down another 15 feet. Down this rappel, continue on around the corner for a while and you'll come to a deep crevasse. A rappel has been set up if you explore around in this room, but the water fall adjacent to the rope will get you pretty wet. Derrick and I downclimbed as I have in the past. There are some cool icicles in this part of the cave. This stomach is generally the last place you'll see ice in the cave.

From the way you entered this room, exit to the left, and continue down the tunnel to one more rappel. This is the end of the stomachs. From here on out, it's stemming madness, the small intestine.
This is how you stem it.

Stem and stem and stem. Put your feet on the walls, your hands on the walls and keep moving. It's not as bad as it sounds, owing to the fact that there are rock features everywhere and generally something to put your feet on. That being said, it is as bad as it sounds. You have plenty of features to hang on to. They're all muddy. They're sharp and slick. There are also plenty of features at head level, and since you're looking at your feet, your head takes a beating. Let me go ahead and insert a picture of my helmet here. Like any intelligent caver, I have and wear a helmet. Kneepads are necessary for this cave too.

The ninja is a move that Summers named. The stemming pinches down to a weird diagonal pinch that requires some crazy gymnastics to get through. I think everyone does it a little differently, most ending up doing some kind of roll or crashing into the mud.

So stem around until you get to a right hand bend with a muddy little platform. This is where I like to join the cave in the GI exercise. Derrick and I ate ramen noodles and tuna fish. I've never had worse ramen noodles, and the tuna was more disgusting than ever. The noodles were old, and the tuna, which came from pouches, was soggy. Next time, I'll pack my own tuna and bring some crackers. Sorry, D.R.This was no tasty treat.

Okay, so cold and stiff, but full of crappy food, we go back to stemming. It finally gives way to the cascades, which involve stemming, but it's down a really cool slope where the limestone layers have been angled up. This is an amazing spot to think about how creative God is. Never in all of the eternities could I come up with such amazing features and creations, and then He buries them deep in the earth. It's mind boggling.

Large Intestine:

Eventually, the tunnel forces you onto your knees and away from the water. You've reached the mud crawl. It's easy enough to get lost here, but if you stay a little to the left, and watch for footprints in the mud, you'll stay on track. The mud lasts for a while and eventually the tunnel rejoins the stream. You're getting closer and closer to the dreaded Crotch Lake.

You'll know it when you get there. There's a muddy platform on the left, and the stemming gets so wide that it's impossible to continue. Cave nudity is the only way. Just drop your drawers and reach for the sky. It's about a 120 foot wade through water so cold it hurts. I've seen waders and inflatable rafts down there, but limestone is unforgiving to vinyl and they always just get trashed and get left behind as trash. It's amazing what people will do to keep their nads out of ice-cold water.Almost through the lake. Where are my pants?

I'm tall enough to stand on my tiptoes and as long as there are no major slips, I have about an inch to my saving grace. Derrick was able to do the same. I feel for you shorter (or longer) people. I really do. My feet and legs are rather numb after this little stint, but they warm up quickly. Hopefully the same holds true for everyone and their equipment.
It gets warm soon enough. Just round the corner, drop the last little rappel in a humid room that is constantly misted by a waterfall. Bring on the maze room.

This can get confusing. The general rule to get you out of the maze room, is to bring someone who has been there before. In 1997, Dad, Summers, Jeff Andrus and I spent a few hours exploring offshoots, kicking over false markers and generally getting frustrated. Even if you choose the right tunnel to get out, the exit out of that tunnel, to the pit is easy to miss.
As you enter the maze, look for a rock with an orange arrow painted on it. This is one of many markers in the room, but this is the correct one. You should make a hard right into a tunnel large enough to walk in. As this tunnel continues, watch for a spot where the tunnel descends. Look up, because you're about to make a big mistake. Above this descending tunnel there is another passage which often gets missed because you've got your light shining at your feet.
Take this upper passage, but make sure you're paying attention. The tunnel will narrow up and you'll have to do a little downclimbing. After this, keep an eye looking left. If you're not watching, you'll walk right past the pit and down a passage that dead-ends.

Colon and well . . .:

The pit requires a 5.8ish move to escape. there is a bolt where you can clip some kind of aid, but the rule again is to have someone who can climb out, even after an exhausting day. It's not easy, and it shouldn't be underestimated. Once out of the pit, adjust your knee pads because you're going to be doing some crawling. It gets nearly as tight as the big squeeze, but tasting victory makes it a little easier. The wind should be blowing pretty hard as you block off the tightest parts.

The smell of plants returns just before the light of the late afternoon spills in through the small tunnel that marks the extent of the soft-core excursion to the Darby Canyon Wind Cave. We arrived. We did it. The exit is bigger than that of a Houston-Texan. That's it.
Derrick was ready to go.

Derrick and I spent almost exactly 7 hours in the cave. We cleaned up and made it back to Driggs by about 7:30. O'Rourk's is forever the place to celebrate after passing through the digestive track of Fossil Mountain. Yum!It felt awful good to see the sun again.

Love Hurts

2007-08-29T11:49:00.001-07:00

I wanted to post some more photos of the Grand Teton experience and make mention of Joe Griffin. I'm pretty sure that there were times that Joe thought I had drug him up the mountain in order to weaken him and kill him. It wasn't true. For the record, I'm not sure Joseph Griffin is mortal. You can weaken him, but his will is unbreakable.

I took some of these pictures, some were taken by Joe, and others by willing parties at the summit.Joe's hairy toes gave their nails for him that day. Summers had minimal blistering compared to last year. My feet were a little tender on the bottom.

L to R this time: Hardass, Smirker, and lip biter. This view looks south toward the Middle Teton, and Mexico.

from right to left: A big smirk, Stone-cold determination, and some clown that escaped the circus.

One rather sketchy traverse.

You see the determination in his soul? And Table Rock in the background?

Once again, quite the mountain man. I think it's the beanie.
I think I look like quite the mountain man.

Summers and I nearing Wall Street. (how many wallstreets are there in the world?)

A little blurry, but I look skinny in that shirt.

TETON

2007-08-27T08:28:00.000-07:00

Click on the pictures. They get bigger.

This one's for you Dad.

2007-08-19T21:38:00.000-07:00

My dad hates snakes.

Click the pics

I really do canyoneer

2007-08-19T21:15:00.000-07:00

Well, I take a lot more pictures when I'm canyoneering anyway. I met Summers and his lovely wife on their way back from working in Florida for the summer. There will be more pictures of this, but the first canyon had a 2 stage, 300 foot rappel. Very exciting. It had beautiful sandstone and all that jazz with a lot of exciting adventure. I'd done the second canyon before, so although exciting and adventurous, it didn't make me quite as googly as the first.

Just for some perspective, that is a 120 foot rappel. Pictures of the 300 footer will be up later.

I really do climb

2007-08-15T17:40:00.000-07:00

I don't take a lot of pictures when I'm climbing, but Alex had his camera the last time we went up to broads fork. So far this year, I've red pointed (completed on lead w/out falling) at least 46 different routes. I'm trying to track down a few more that I've probably done that were forgotten before I started making the list, or just slipped through the cracks.

I don't even know the name of the climb I'm on in the picture, but it's a fun one.

Here's the list

Here's me. It was a high-gravity day. (That just means I was struggling up stuff that should have been easy.

OR Show

2007-08-12T22:16:00.001-07:00

Click on the picture for an explanation of all the sweet goodies that I picked up at the Outdoor Retailers Show this week. I had to pay for most of it, of course, they don't just give those cams away. They're usually around $50 each. I bought 19.

Manu Chao

2007-08-11T22:30:00.001-07:00

Sings in 7 different languages. Absolutely amazing. Listen to the song.

La Vie

Did we expect these things to change by waking up and suddenly there they are?

2007-08-02T22:51:00.000-07:00

Just wanted to say that life isn't easy. To those who keep doing what they believe in, you rock. To those who are trying to find themselves, their purpose, or just the guts to go out and live the life they know they want, keep swimming.

Woah, Sorry! a.k.a. She makes the sign of a teaspoon, he makes the sign of a wave.

2007-08-01T21:25:00.000-07:00

Well, here's the deal. I was out a computer and I was wondering how I was going to "blog in the wild". (Rarely in the course of history has any man taken so much crap for any four words.) Anyway, I bought me a machine to type on and organize my photographs. Unfortunately, I'm having some format issues, so most of my photos are not yet back up. Don't worry. We always have my flickr account.

Another reason the week has been short on blogs was my lack of activity. When all you do is rock climb, that's really all there is to write about. I needed something different, something more. I found it tonight. I guess I re-found it tonight. In fact, I unearthed several things I love today.

1. Paul Simon - Graceland. If you don't own this album, go buy it. I did. I have several times, and it's worth it every time. A symbiosis of radical African Beats, Cajun funk, synthesized and natural tones, it warms the soul and soothes the savage beast. My parents bought this album when it came out . . . 1987? Let me check on that. Nope, 1986. Anyway, it was the same time that they bought the Taurus station wagon. "You can Call me Al" was obviously an instant hit, even when I was just 6 meager years old. "Under African Skies" touched me, but in a totally non-Michael Jackson sort of way. When my parents wouldn't play it in the car casette player, I'd put it in a little battery operated unit in the back. That tape got switched out every once in a while with Toto's Toto - IV.
That album (Graceland) was purchase at least a half dozen time over the next 20 years. The tape would get eaten, the CD would get scratched, the files would get corrupted, and I am yet to have a problem dropping another $10-16 to get a new one. I've been with out it's sweet melodies for about a year now, and today I couldn't stand it anymore. Poor as I am, I opted for the remastered version on iTunes. You should too. $9.99 well spent. "Moonlight sleeping on a midnight lake"

2. Mt. Olympus and more specifically, hiking.
I've let myself go a little this year. Summers is going to smoke me all the way up the Grand Teton. There's no doubt about that. I'm weak. Tonight I was going to go for one of those "I've got to get into shape fast" jogs. Instead, I was drawn to the Mt. Olympus trail head and after chugging a cold 32 oz. of lemon lime Gatorade, I started up the trail. It was a mix between jogging and fast hiking and it felt good like a long lost friend. Why haven't I been hiking this summer? It was starting to rain, and I didn't get going until 8pm so I was only able to complete 2.00 sweaty miles measured to an accuracy of 18 feet (thanks Garmin) before turning back. It took almost 40 minutes to go up, and it took about 26 to come back down. That trail is easy enough, but it doesn't lack in elevation gain.

Here's the picture I took with my special google earth camera:

Go do the things you enjoy! Go do them today. Remember the things you love and don't let work, pride, money, or responsibility get in the way. I'll see you on the trail/rock, at the concert, in the park, or where ever this crazy life takes us.

Great and Grand Teton Teaser

2007-07-23T15:43:00.000-07:00

(Click the link. It's totally worth it.)

Being a fan of my friends, I was pleasently surprised to hear from Summers today. I don't expect to hear from him often, and it's good to know that he's alive and doing well. The message was quite simple. We're climbing the Grand Teton again this year. Nothing will turn us back, unless it's really bad weather again, but we'll just go up the next day. Girls, you should know now, that I like it on top . . . of the Grand Teton.

Summers has been running his tail off in Florida. I've been climbing rocks in Utah. I think they should have us on mythbusters to prove that living in high altitude makes your lungs more efficient than actually exercising at low altitudes. I'll write in to the producers. I also have some ideas for Dirty Jobs, but I'll save them for another blog.

If you've never seen the Tetons, here's your chance. I'm pretty much amazing with Google Maps, so here you go. Click on the photo to be taken to my customized map of the Tetons complete with a few of the pictures from our previous two summit attempts. Click on each of the placemarks, the red pins, and the pictures will appear. All the locations are aproximate, but you get to see some amazing scenery from the trail. All photos taken by yours truly.

(Summers and I made it to the summit in Sept. 2005, but our group of four, Summers, Joseph Griffin, Jason Miller, and myself, were turned around by storm clouds apx. 600 feet from the top in Sept. 2006.)

An Odd Odyssey

2007-07-19T15:24:00.000-07:00

I'm almost ready. I want t o embark on my travels soon. Today I picked up two East-Coast, "Baaastan"-accented fellows who had hitchhiked from Connecticut to Salt Lake City and were on their way to Craters of the Moon. They had long scragly beards and looked like a couple of gnomes or maybe vikings. I hope that my friends will guide me to better places than a huge lava flow in the middle of nowhere, Idaho, but I'm so inspired and oddly jealous of these people. I know I'm going to go, it's just a matter of when. At present, my plan is to have as little plan as possible. I'm going to go to Montana next weekend for sure. I think it will be a little test of my resolve. Problem is, I've never been one to dip my toes. I like to find the biggest cliff and get a run. I like to make a splash.

If you've never read Jon Krakuer's Into the Wild, you should. Now, no one freak out. I have no death wish. I'm not going to donate all of my savings to charity and go off to starve to death in a bus. His courage to go out and do what he knew would make him happy is beyond inspirational. I want to shed the expectations of society for a while. My wild will probably consist of national parks and climbing destinations, not the Alaskan tundra. Still, I'm going to go live in the wild. I'm going to go blog in the wild.

If any of my friends read this and is going somewhere interesting, please take me with you. I'll provide good entertainment, deep tissue massage and when possible a pinch of gas money. Hitchhiking is always better with friends.

Movie Madness

2007-07-15T10:24:00.000-07:00

I'm not really mad. I'm just bugged. When I was a teenager, thirteenish, I decided that movies at the theater were a big waste. You pay too much, It's uncomfortably crowded, you can't pause or rewind, and you supposedly can't bring your own treats.

The Lion King was the last straw for me. I was 13. I swore off movies for quite some time until my true weakness, girls, convinced me to go see Titanic. (okay, I need a picture of someone barfing) That pretty much got me back on the wagon, or off the wagon (see Seinfield).

I recently saw Transformers and then last night I went to the newest Harry Potter. Total yawnfests. At least Transformers was pathetic enough that I could entertain myself by mocking the poor acting. I was in no mood for Harry's weak-ass Frodo imitations last night. That Umbridge lady is a retard, and Hermoine won't be 18 and lustable for at least another year.

That was a big lead up to not a whole lot. I was going to list all the other fun activities that you can do instead of wasting your time and money on 2 hours of boredom in the theaters, but I'm sure you can think of a couple hundred things yourself. Besides, I've heard theres a lot of fecal matter that resides in theater seats. You need a better reason than that? (where's that barf icon again?)

The advent of technology

2007-07-10T12:56:00.000-07:00

I've decided to tone down my font size a little. For all of you who have to wear glasses to read my blog now, tuff luck.

Just sitting here, I was marveling at wireless internet which allows me to go out and check on the bratwurst that I'm cooking without interrupting the many conversations I'm having with people, both near and far, on instant messenger. As I begin feeling more adventurous, I realize what a time travel my life is about to take. By show of hands, who remembers busy signals, writing down/memorizing phone numbers, phone books, an the myriad of other bulky communication tools we used to use. People used to send letters to communicate. Even missionaries in other countries could put a piece of paper in another folded piece of paper, apply some special stickers, and it would find it's way around the world to their parents' house.

I'm sure I could make a list of the top thingamajiggers that have changed the way we live, but someone else already did it. I haven't seen it, or even really know that, but google knows all. Try it and see.

Here's just a few that I wanted to note:
Walmart - One stop shopping was coined by Fred Meyer, but perfected by the big red white and blue symbol of modern America. Bitch all you want about how it's driven your friend's boomerang shop down on the corner out of business. Walmart is here to stay, and we all love the convenience of buying bananas, building supplies, bb guns and bamboozles in the same place. If Walmart doesn't have it, you don't need it. Frankly, you don't need most of the stuff Walmart has.

Cell phones- Yeah, yeah, go a day with out your cell, and see how naked you feel. Try memorizing phone numbers. Even if you had to use a pay phone, would you know your girlfriend, mom, or best friend's phone number? I don't.

Internet, of course - What time is that movie playing? What's the pizza place's phone number? Where does Mick Jagger live? How would we answer any of these questions without the internet. Google and Wikipedia are extremely useful. How would I be able to track the lives of 101 of my good friends without myspace? Letters? I don't think so.

The technology keeps advancing. The internet went from 28.8 modems and guitar tabs to watching live Nascar races. Incredible. What's next? Remember when Mike Teavee teleports himself on Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory? I don't think we're that far off. Give it another 25 years. Airplanes will be obsolete, and we'll just teleport around the world. Can you imagine all the tourists in Yellowstone? What a nightmare.

Funny Family

2007-07-08T16:55:00.000-07:00

That's my little sister. She's funny.

Fire on the Mountain

2007-07-05T09:22:00.000-07:00

Well, I hope everyone had a safe and fun Fourth of July. That goes for both of you who actually read my blog. :) I presume that on the night of the 3rd, some poor soul was lighting fireworks off near Bells Canyon, and it seems they lost a little control.

You could see the fire from Bangerter Highway all the way out on the west side. I drove home and grabbed my camera, extra low on batteries, and cruised over to the church where droves of firefighters, police, and rubberneckers had gathered.

Sans tripod, the photos mostly came out blurry. Not that I'm an expert photographer or anything, but I did get one good shot of a rust-colored moon.

The 4th was fun. I went swimming, had a barbecue, and watched fireworks. Thanks to all the people that I hung out with. It's not that I'll look back and think, "Damn, July 4, 2007 was the best Independence Day ever." No, it probably wasn't, but it was good, and it's already got me looking forward to the climax of summer next year.

There are Stupid Questions

2007-07-02T21:27:00.000-07:00

I just can't get it through my thick skull. Don't ask anyone what he or she is doing for the 4th of July. "What are you doing on the fourth?" is a stupid question. The answer is always "watching fireworks and maybe a barbecue. " For some reason, it seems to be the question on my mind today. I bet I asked it to a dozen people. Maybe I was just looking for one person to come up with something original, but why? Really, what holiday is better than Independence day? What activities are more fun than barbecues, fireworks and rodeos? What nation's birthday is better than our nation's?

Before I get into how much I love the United States, let me just say that there is a good number of other stupid questions. The answer is the same every time, and the questions are asked for no other purpose than to make conversation:
What did you talk about at church? God, Jesus, Scriptures. What do you think we talked about?
How was the funeral? Sad.
Do you want to go out sometime? No.

Okay, rodeos, fireworks, barbeque, parades, neighbors, flags, The United States. The 4th of July is wonderful. Be grateful this year, and remember the veterans and the forefathers. They did great things for us. Exercise your freedom, and do your patriotic duties. Be proud to be an American.

The great and grand Gregories

2007-07-01T20:55:00.001-07:00

Tonight I'll take a minute to brag about the best friends a guy like me could have. The Gregories are it. Dependable, trustworthy thinkers, we should all be glad that these guys' ancestors and their relatives lined up two to one on the side of the Union.

Sam Gregory and I served our mission together and we were companions in the area call Las Brisas, Zona 6 de Mixco, Guatemala, Guatemala. A fine area, worthy of it's own blog, though it will never get it. Sam and I enjoyed our three and a half months together as companions, even though I stubbornly insisted on being a gung-ho knock doors 'till we bleed missionary. Sam had a lot better and broader view of what it meant to be a missionary in Guatemala, and made sure we didn't go crazy. We did however steal a dinosaur off the roof of the house next to ours. That was crazy.Hey Sam, you still wear those shorts . . . get some new shorts.

Sam and I pretty much lost contact until a few years after we'd both been home. When I got a job at Wall Machinery, I had oodles of time to google. I got in touch with a lot of people during that time that I hadn't talked to in quite some time. Sam just happened to be the best one. Summer of 2005 we ticked off more than a dozen slot canyon descents, usually accompanied by Sam's wife Masiel, Sam's Brother and his wife, Devan and Ginny, and Jason Summers rounded out the usual adventure team. Sadly, we lost Summers early in the year 2006. We'll get him back someday.

So it's Sam and Masiel, Devan and Ginny, and me. At the risk of making myself sound like a big loser, I have to say that if the Gregories weren't around, I don't know what I'd do with myself. This summer has turned into the summer of climbing, but we canyoneer, watch movies, swim, and laugh it up. Sam and Devan haven't convinced me to join them in their WOW escapades, but we pretty much do everything else together. Whether out of sympathy or love, the girls are always trying to find me dates and new girls to hang out with. All in all, I don't know if there's a finer pair of brothers and their wives to be had.

Sam is stone cold and usually lost in thought, no doubt planning his next brutal assasination. His wife Masiel is as kind as a saint, yet stunningly sexy.

Devan is high-strung and ready for anything at a moment's notice, as long as he's not tired and looking for a place to lie down for a while. His wife Ginny is a fox, but she fears lightning, submarines, and the wrath of God. She acts accordingly.

So if you meet a Gregory, trust that man with your life. I've done it many times and never regretted it yet.

Stacking Stones (AKA sticks and stones may break my bones)

2007-07-01T00:46:00.000-07:00

Therapy, it's something that everyone needs in varying degrees. My car got smashed, I can't seem to get a decent date (probably because of the car), and frankly, I'm a little lost in life. I need me a lot of therapy.

It seems like every Saturday I play hard, really hard. I wake up mid-morning Sunday with a mild headache and sore muscles. That's okay, because that means that Saturday's therapy worked. Saturday therapy usually consists of:

Climbing

Canyoneering

Biking

Hiking

And other notably draining activities.

Honestly, I don't have a ton of energy left for Sunday, but I have to take advantage of it as best I can. Those who think poorly of what I do on Saturdays can just quit reading now. I'm going to show you what I do on Sundays. Yes, I stand in the icy-cold water that flows out of Utah's beautiful canyons and I pile rocks on top of one another. It actually takes me quite a while and the tall stacks are very difficult. I like to use really big rocks.

Single stacks of rocks could get a little boring, so it's important to mix it up sometimes. Little Cottonwood Canyon is my favorite place to do this since I can usually find some solitude, but I've built them in Big Cottonwood Canyon, American Fork Canyon, and a couple other places. Besides balancing the rocks, I would say that standing in flowing water for an hour at a time is the most difficult part. I don't suppose that any of this is going to get me a scholarship, a job, or even a pat on the back, but I sure feel good when I get done and look with a smile on my green vandalism/artistic therapy.

Why Nascar is greater than you ever imagined.

2007-06-28T19:58:00.000-07:00

Well, It's a lot more entertaining than a hit and run . . . laugh a little.

Back in my day they used to hand you the chicken on a pole . . .

Beer Bratwurst

2007-06-28T19:14:00.001-07:00

I ate them for dinner last night, I ate them for dinner tonight, and I'll eat them again. Yum.

The real reason I'm posting tonight, my first double post, is that My car was smashed up and I'm a little pissed off about it. Hit and run measures right up there with DUI as far as the law is concerned. As far as I'm concerned, it's right up there with sleeping with your best friend's wife/gf, burning an orphanage, or selling your savior for 30 pieces of silver.

Okay, just a hit and run by itself is probably not enought to damn you to eternal darkness, but this hit and run was witnessed by a little 8-year-old who narrowly escaped getting run over by the culprit. You can't run over little kids. Like any 8-year-old who has nearly been run over, he was a little shy, but told me, and Deputy Jenson exactly what happened. It sounded a little exagerated, the black SUV backing into my car, swerving to hit the kid, and jumping the curb up onto the grass, but sure enough, there were the tire marks where the guy had driven over the curb.

Not only did the kid give great testimony of what happened to my car, but he is originally from South Africa. It seems like kids that grow up outside the United States still have a little gumption, and self suficiency. He had some great stories about how the monkeys would get in his room and crawl up on his bed. "What did you do?" I asked. Nochalantly he responded, "I got a fruit, and led him out of the house." No big deal, getting monkeys out of the house or dodging dangerous vehicles for this kid.

Anyway it was a black SUV, and it took place accross the street from Cafe Rio on 33rd in Salt Lake around 2pm on June 28. If any of the 4 people who read this blog have any info, please let me know.

Freedom Fires

2007-06-28T10:28:00.000-07:00

Determination - that's what it takes to get a fire started. (maybe all of my posts will touch on fire and climbing - wait and see) I was determined to have a fire last night. I was determined to sleep in a tent in the "woods" and you know, see if a bear wanted to have it's way with me. In a strange paradox, I searched the internet for campsites close to SLC with no cover. Well, let me tell you that in Utah, everything has a cover. It doesn't matter how much you plan to spend at the bar.

Around Rexburg, ID I can think of a quick 5 places to go camp where you'll never be bothered to pay.

1. Sand Dunes
2. Beaver Dick Park
3. Spillway
4. pretty much anywhere on the Idaho side of the Tetons
5. Do they charge for camping at Green Canyon? if so, it's totally worth it.
6. Kelly Canyon/Heise area (by the caves, not in developed campgrounds)
7. My parents' back yard.

Actually, the list goes on and on. The point is, Mormons and their derivatives are Jews. Or maybe I have that backwards. I found the cheapest looking site up Big Cottonwood canyon and drove up there. Yeah, $15. In all the time that I've spent in Central America, I never once paid that much for a hotel. Ouch. The upcoming trip to Idaho is looking better and better. Why is it that I can't go out in the woods in Utah and build a fire for free?

No matter, I'll make that $15 up somehow. Have you ever built a fire in a desserted campground and just sat and read a good book until 2 in the A.M.? Well, you should. It's liberating. You forget all your worries and responsibilities. All the things you were going to blog about the next day fade from your memory. Anyway, I highly recommend Princeton Tec headlamps. They're great, and they'll get me through the Darby Canyon Ice Caves again soon.

Friction Fire

2007-06-27T18:57:00.000-07:00

What a joke! Today my goal was to go out in the woods and start a fire. No matches, no lighter, just me and some sticks and some string. Good thing I didn't work today, so I could spend a good 5 hours rubbing wood together until it smoked.

Here's the wiki-how on friction fires.

Wiki-how is a completely worthless site where people try to tell you how to do things. There's one about wilderness survival that suggests you tell everyone where you're going and make sure you bring ample supplies. -duh Another personal favorites is this one How to survive a living hell. It says nothing about my last relationship. Like I said, worthless.

Everything makes full circle back to rock climbing so I may as well steer you clear of looking up how to rock climb on wiki-how. There are however some really good wiki-hows.

For all you 19-year old hotties: Dumping your Emo BF

Certainly this one is for everybody: How to smell nice

Last but not least, it's important to smell nice, but it's also important to be nice.

So be nice people, and don't try to start a fire with sticks. Use lots of gasoline and matches.*

*Jason Price will not be held responsible for persons lighting themselves on fire, singeing their eyebrows, going bald, or smelling bad.

Climbing Tuesdays

2007-06-26T22:48:00.000-07:00

I'm going to try. I'm going to try

Tuesdays have become climbing Tuesdays, and I'm fine with that. Usually it's just me and Sam and Devan and quite often their wives. Occasionally we're graced by the presence of someone else, but they never seem to come back. It's probably because I swear too much. :)

This week, I climbed Twist and Shout - 5.10a, Monkey Meet - 5.10d, and Vaporous Apparation - 5.9 See Mountain Project dot com.
- Sam on Nipples and Clits (5 min exposure)

I'm always intrigued by how climbs get their names. I've been on Nipples and Clits, Kibbles and Bits, Schoolboys, Flinstones, Big Time, The Coral Arete, Twisted, Pigeon Hole Crack, and a load of others with their own interesting names.

It's all good fun, but I think that what brings me back to climbing is the margin. I love approaching the limit of my physical ability. I love being pushed right to the edge. It's not the adrenaline rush that I'm after, it's that one molecular bond between my fingertip and the rock that keeps me from falling.

When I got home I was feeling a little grumpy . . . no reason, but I decided to go for a run. It was on this run that I decided I needed to start writing in the blogosphere again. It was also on this run that I decided a third of a marathon is not a smart idea when I haven't run in months. I'll be hurting tomorrow.

1st central america post

2007-02-28T14:18:00.001-08:00

Summers didn't get his passport in time to leave for Guatemala with me, so he drove me to the airport and I started the adventure alone. The airport was pretty straight forward. This was the first time that I was not marked for special security screening since 9/11, yet I think I look more like a dirty bomber than ever.

Upon arrival in Guatemala, my new drum-toting, dreadlocked airport friend invited me to share a cab to the hostel in Zone 10 he was going to stay in. In all my travel experience, I've generally noticed that dirty hippies who already have friends in country will usually take you to the cheap places, so I ditched my plans to go to Pension Meza. Zone 10 is where the Marriott and the Hyatt are, so it goes without saying that the hostel was the most expensive that I have ever stayed in. $12 for one night. I was too tired and too far from anything to look around, so I accepted my fate and crashed there for the night. At least they had internet access.

I walked down the street and begged a lady that was closing up shop to make me a quick meal. It was too quick, but undercooked chicken and beans hasn't killed me yet, and I didn't want to go to bed hungry.

After a few emails and some messenger, I learned very little about Summer's battle with American Airlines, and just figured that if I had to travel for the next 7 weeks by myself, It wouldn't be that bad. Feeling helpless in that regard, I sat down and watched "The Passion of the Christ"(who really does look a little like Jonny Damon) for the first time, and then went to bed. I was happy to be back in my Central American home. The smells trigger something in me that completely defies logical description. It's a drug.

Don't I look really messed up on "Guatemala"

Morning came around and I wandered my way down to Zone 1 and caught the 10:30 bus to Coban. I was on my way to Semuc Champey. It was a magical hippie and native filled land that I had heard about and wanted to check out. Summer's delay gave me the perfect opportunity for that. Five hours later I was in Coban being hassled by the local hotel recruiters. I ended up spending the night in Dona Victoria's spending Q50 for a dorm bed in a completely empty dorm. I had it all to myself, but I wouldn't go so far as to say that I took advantave of the situation.

Catholic Cathedral in Coban

In the morning I hopped on a minibus so full of locals I though it might pop. It could have been worse, but my brain lacks the mental capacity to understand how. An hour and a half later I was in Lanquin, almost there. A guy with a pickup said he was heading out to Semuc as soon as he put his brakes back together. "Okay," I thought and headed up to the market to find me a Guatemalan slingshot.

Guatemalan slingshots don't have a "Y" shape to them. When you release the tensioned sling, it is important to move the stick (and your hand) quickly out of the way. It's an art that I used to be pretty good at. As primitive as they are, you can use one to kill a bird "no problema".

Later, I'm not sure how much, The guy with the truck was ready to go. I told him that there were some other gringos up in the market, so we passed by there on our way out. Moments after they had gotten on board, a large minibus pulled up next to us and our driver decided it would be more profitable to sell us to them than drive all the way to Semuc. I decided that being brave was better than being suffocated and climbed up the ladders sitting on top with luggage and some locals. Here's the view from the top.
These are not highways either. Unpaved, steep, and in the middle of nowhere is more like it. A local told me that in the rainy season, the vans have a hard time getting around. "Oh really?" I thought.

I got to Las Marias, the only place to stay within walking distance of Semuch Champey. Mmost tourists stay in Lanquin, one hour away, or worse in Coban two and one half hours away. Las Marias is cool, relaxed and very rustic. The cheapest people are staying in the open attics on horribly thin mattresses for about US$2 a night. I was only going to be there one night so I decided to splurge and get a bed for another dollar.

There's the hammocks and the attic.

I walked down to the bridge and then on to the cascades. Semuc Champey is formed where the large river has cut a cave through the limestone. Above the cave is where the cascades are. They are fed by streams coming down from the surrounding mountains. It basically forms a bridge full of pools over the river and is very aesthetically pleasing.

Where the water goes in.

The cascades on the bridge

The bridge from far above.

Where it comes out.

After playing around at the falls and hiking up a very long steep trail to get the aerial view photo, I headed back to the man-made bridge and astonished the crowd with a very poor backflip.

Instead of getting out, I decided to just swim/float the kilometer or so back to where I was staying. I had given my camera and shirt to a German couple to take back to Las Marias and told them that if I died they could keep them. On my swim back, I just happened to pass three women and their innumerable children bathing in the river. I'm sure that I was more embarrased than they were . . . well, on second thought, they seemed pretty embarrased and I was just wishing that I had my camera.

That night, I met a lot of cool people. There were some Israeli girls, the Germans that I had given my camera and shirt to, and Josh, Magic and their French friend. Josh and crew had been traveling on about $10, not $10 per day, but basically $10 for their whole trip. They bummed everything and hitch hiked everywhere they went. I kept an eye on my stuff when they were around, but really they were cool. Magic seemed to really love it, so we played a lot of crazy 8s. I stayed up late talking to the Israilies.

2007-02-28T14:17:00.001-08:00

These are basically in reverse order once they are posted, so keep that in mind.

I woke up to a nice morning in Semuc Champey, but I the night before, I had read my book on a bench down by the river and the chiggers had eaten my legs. Hobbling around on my stumps, I went down to the reception area and joined up for the cave tour that would be starting at 10:30. Eventually my legs came back, but they were covered in itchy bites. Oh well.

The kid that walked us to the caves asked each person to pick up an innertube and carry it with us. I grabbed one and headed down the road behind the rest of the group with my headlamp in my pocket.

When we got to the little shack below the cave everyone dropped of his tube and we started to hike up the hill. The entrance to the cave is just 100 yards up, and we were soon in the cold water. The guide, Mauricio gave everyone a candle and asked me about a dozen times if my camera was waterproof. In we went.

The entrance to the caves was swarming with bats. I was giddy about caving in Guatemala, but being the only person in the tour with a headlamp I didn't expect to much. I was pleasantly surprised though. As we made our way through the cave I decided that it was a very "canyoneering" style cave. Most of the first kilometer involves wading through chest deep water and occasional swims of 30 or 40 meters. There are fixed ladders in a couple places to make it easier for tourists, but it's still a challenging cave. I was glad that I had my headlamp since most of the candles went out here and there and our guide's headlamp was incredibly dim. You can see him at the top of the ladder in this picture.

The physical features of this cave are amazing, but with such a tiny camera and all of the moisture in the air, it was hard to photograph anything. When we reached the one kilometer mark we turned around, but no one complained. It was actually pretty cold. When I go back to explore all 11 kilometers, I'll definitely bring a wetsuit.

When we got out of the cave, the owner of the property met us by the little shack and insisted that everyone try out the swing he had set up to go out over the river. I was a little disapointed that the river was too shallow to jump, but I tried to be gracious and show how enthused I really was. The rest of the group hiked upstream a little way and got in with their tubes to float back down to Las Marias. I stayed and told jokes with the owner of the land until he told me that I could come back anytime to explore the caves and stay in the shack for free. The farting joke always gets them.

I got on a bus and headed back to Coban for the night. I had figured out somewhere along the line that Summers would be arriving on Saturday and Today was Friday. I stayed in a different hotel/hostel this time and since there was a couple from Holland making out in the bed next to mine, I stayed up late reading A million little pieces. It's a good book, but didn't really draw me in like I had hoped it would. The love story seemed sappy, after Scout hung herself last year I hate hearing about people hanging themselves. It's like salt in the wound.

Anyway, my bus back to Guatemala City was early the next morning. Being courteous as always I packed in the dark and unfortunately left my only pair of shoes under the bed. I loved those shoes, but I was six hours away before I realized that I had left them. Back in the Cap(Guatemala City), I made my way to the airport and made friends with the police that were patroling there. They were all about my age, and they loved the farting joke. Summers' plane was taking forever, so I went and made friends with some people in the souveneir shops. They all liked the farting joke too.

Summers finnaly arrived and after a little haggling I spent the second largest sum of money that I would spend on my trip getting a taxi straight to Antigua. I was too tired to try to figure out another way. It was too late for busses anyway. The taxi driver ended up taking us to the hotel of his choice, not ours, but it was a fine place to crash for the night. We went out and found a couple cool clubs and bars to hang out in. By the end of the night we'd be invited to an afterparty with a bonfire.

Thats Summers in the main plaza.

Summers and the Volcan de Agua.

Antigua

The next morning we got up and wandered around the market for a while. We found out that there was going to be a soccer game, so we headed toward the stadium. It was a long walk. We went in on Antigua's side, so we were obliged to cheer for them. The other team had a lot bigger fan base than the home team. This was when I first realized that Summers was not going to enjoy this as much as me. About 10 minutes into the soccer game he was visibly bored, but I made him stick it out until the half. After that we went and got our stuff and hopped a bus for Panajachel.

It took a total of four busses to get us to the shores of the Lago Atitlan, but we made it and hopped one of the last boats crossing the lake to San Pedro, the infamous San Pedro.

San Pedro is a great little town on the shore of Lago Atitlan in the shadows of a dozen volcanoes. The hippies and travelers flock here because it is so cheap and well known as a backpacker's stop. There are dozens of language schools. The stores sell integral bread, and there is a little bar where they have reggae bands and fire dancing most nights. As long as you don't mention President Bush, you're generally safe on the streets until very late at night. It's definitely a cool place to just relax. The one thing you're not safe from is the little girls that sell banana and coconut bread.

Although it is very good, the pestering to buy it is a little much. I think I bought, and ate and enjoyed, at least 5 loaves in the 3 days that were were there.

Summers on the boat.

That night we wandered around until we found a cheap hotel, and then set out to have a good time and meet people. Umm . . . I did anyway. Summers wasn't too stoked on all the dread locks and hairy arm pits. I was having a blast just walking down the streets and seeing people when I happened to bump into the Israeli girls that I had met in Semuc Champey. For the next couple days we hung out off and on with them. They were friendly and had great stories about their 2-year obligitory service in Israel's army.

In the morning, I was desperately thinking of something to entertain Summers. We went to a hardware store and bought some fishing line and some little hooks. The hooks were tiny, but we should have bought even smaller ones. After some thinking, we decided that the San Pedro dock wouldn't be very fishing friendly. Two kilometers down the shore lies the even smaller, much quieter San Juan. The docks there seemed perfect, and when we arrived, we found a local kid with the same idea we had.

Summers on the trail around the lake.

Jose, our fishing buddy eating a snail that Summers found.

Fishing through a crack in the dock.

How were we going to get a fish through the crack in the dock even if we did hook one? Good question, but then again, we weren't looking to break any world records.

Yup, Summers managed to catch one.

The next day we introduced Summers to canchinflines, the Guatemalan equivalent of bottle rockets without a stick. Canchinflines can be lit simply by striking the fuse on a matchbox. Basically, you eliminate the need for fire and you have a good little rocket that you just throw from your hand. They're not super reliable though. We each had one explode in our hands. It stung a little, but was mostly just deafening. We definitely shot off a lot of canchinflines. I like to shoot them into the water personally.

That night was fun for me. I don't think Summers had the best time. He was a little sick Here are a couple more pictures of San Juan.

Boats on the San Juan Dock

Window of our hotel room. Chicky cookies and a can of tuna on the sill.

One of many volcanos around the lake.

Me

That's all for now. I'll try to get the next few days up in the next few days.

More Central America Trip

2007-02-28T14:15:00.000-08:00

Here we go.

Actually, right now as I write this, my stomach is killing me. Maybe it's time to take those parasite pills.

Summers and I got up on the first day of February and packed our bags. I actually didn't sleep in the hotel room that night, so I didn't have any of my stuff put together. We finally made it down to the docks in the late morning, and I figured that we'd have to make pretty good time to cross the border into Mexico before dark. The last time I had crossed that border in the dark, I was robbed at knife point. Getting robbed makes me really angry, and it's not something I really look forward to.

The bus ride was long, but very interesting. We only had to switch buses a couple times, and that's pretty good considering that we didn't really know where we were going. I had planned to go to Puerto Arista, a beach town on the Pacific Coast. I just didn't think that we'd have time to do all that we wanted though, so we decided that making it to Costa Rica would be more important to us in the long run. We headed for Talisman Bridge.

The roads in Guatemala and Mexico were ravaged by Hurricane Stan last year. The terrain in that part of the world makes mudslides inevitable, and we got to see some great examples of what a lot of rain and steep hills can do. In a lot of places the road was basically corniced over some steep ravines. There was machinery working in some areas, but obviously, the rains were pretty overwelming.

Summers snapped this photo out the window of the bus we were riding in.

I hate crossing border. That said, I need to make it clear that I HATE CROSSING BORDERS. The money changers, the taxi drivers, the immigration officials, the lines, and everything else about crossing borders just makes it a pain in the ass. I should have taken pictures at the crossing, but I was in such a mood. We got accross fairly painlessly, but with a lot of quetzales, Guatemala's currency, and very few pesos.

We paid a minibus way too much and made it all the way to Tapachula. That town was a bit of a dump, but we walked around the main square after dumping our bags in Hotel Fenix. Summers was still sick, so the first 3 hotels we checked out weren't to his liking. Hotel Fenix was clean, so I didn't complain. In the morning, we wanted to go see the "Lehi Stone". We left our stuff in the hotel and went out to the achaelogical site. Honestly, the ruins were less than impressive. I'm glad no one tried to charge us to be there. The site is in 3 different areas, so it took us a couple hours to find the stone we were looking for. It was hard to see the carving. It's definitely not like the drawings that you always see.
Like this one:

This is more like it, and I've even played with the contrast and color to make it a little more visible.

Since the ruins were pretty boring, and I include myself fully in that boredom, we sat under a huge tree for some shade. I saw a bird fly into one of the lower branches giving me the perfect opportunity to kill something wild with my onda. I drew back like I have a thousand times, but when I released the rock, something different happened. I heard the rock drop on the ground next to me and felt a funny sensation in my thumb. I couldn't really believe that I had shot myself in the thumb, but sure enough, I looked at it and the blood started to trickle up under the nail. Then the pain started to trickle up, but it wasn't just in my thumbnail. It grew and grew until it encompassed the entire universe. I have never felt physical pain like that before. I've never passed out for pain, but I think I was pretty close this time. I had to lay down.

Hiking back to the road, I tried to forget about it. The constant throbbing and immense pain didn't help. We ate some cacao, talked to some kids, and eventually made it back to the road. We caught the collectivo minibus heading back to Tapachula. Since the area is so close to the border, we had to stop at an immigration checkpoint. Some power struggling retard with a moustache decided that we must not be there legally, so he made us get off. I was pissed. It's nearly impossible for an American to be in Mexico illegallly, and we left our passports in the hotel. Eventually, we got a hold of the hotel, and the manager vouched for us, so the immigration official let us go. We were so happy to have to pay for that ride twice, no wait, we weren't.

We got on a bus that same day heading to San Cristobal de las Casas, the infamous hippie hangout. Our bus was nice, first class and airconditioned, but the roads were just like the ones in Guatemala. In fact, we saw the aftermath of some big mudslides, and I understand that the road had just opened the week before.
Here's one of the mudslides:

San Cristobal was cool but there wasn't much to do. I did take some photos.

Summers and the machine gun guy.

Some stairs.

A house and the moon.

I'd say that the coolest thing that happened in San Cristobal was me draining the blood out of my thumb. This was Summers' idea. It seems to have worked out. I took a syringe and drilled into the nail until the blood came out. It was pretty gruesome.

There was some homo in this hostel that didn't want to pay, so he made up some bs story about his bag getting stolen. That was drama. That's about it though. We walked around the markets about twenty times. I bought a bracelet and a little pouch thing for Mrs. Moss. On Friday night we went out to the bars and saw a few different bands. Nothing too important though. The rest was needed though, because our next stop was Palenque . . .

To be continued . . .

Random photos from this section:

Summers enjoying al pastor tacos and a little venado.

One of the bands.

My feet.

Some of the Guate-Mexico Trip last year

2007-02-28T13:22:00.000-08:00

I feel so bad that I haven't finished these blogs. Here it is, nearly 6 months since I got home and I haven't talked about Palenque and forward. The best parts are slipping into the void of forgotten memories.

So, on Saturday the 4th of February we left San Cristobal and headed to Palenque. Palenque is an interesting place. The town is a short taxi ride from the El Panchan where we stayed, and then it's about a 2 mile walk down the road (or the secret trail) to the ruins. I don't remember exactly what time we got there, but went and had decent al pastor tacos at Tropi Tacos and then caught a cab or a combi out to El Panchan. We found a place to stay, which was definitely not as nice as the one that Tyson and I stayed in, but it was good enough. We both hung up hammocks I think. Then we grabbed our headlights and went for a walk. We asked people about mushrooms that we passed on the road that leads to the ruins. No one seemed to have any, but we were offered LSD and Mezcalin. [sp?] We met a bunch of crazies and then cruised back to the jungle lodge.
Me looking bearded and bored-ed.

The next morning, we got up and headed toward the ruins. Just a few hundred yards down the road, a guy pokes his head out of the bushes, looks both ways and says, "Mushrooms?" We went back in the bushes with him and ended up spending $10 on some pretty crazy big mushrooms and a lot of them. Just enough for two trips we were told. It looked like a lot to me.

We took them back to the room, and I guess we were really paranoid, because we acted like it was some big deal that we had them. We hid them really well and then headed back to the ruins. We cut through the corner of one of the other camps, as we'd heard that there is a back trail to the ruins. We'd heard right. It put us in at the back trail near the waterfalls.

The Palenque ruins are my favorites. I really like Tikal, but Palenque feels so much more pure. All the hippies and the relatively small crowds are great. I also love that there are uncovered, unrestored ruins up in the hills. We wandered around the ruins for quite a while and then went and rediscovered the ones that Tyson and I had discovered. We hiked up one trail that I think was supposed to be closed and met this guy that had been trying to find weed back at el panchan that morning. He had obviously had success. He asked us if we'd been in the little temple back at the trail. We had. He asked us if we had looked up, and then he looked toward the sky and said one profound word: "Bats." That guy was weird.

Through the looking glass.

Nice red shorts. Are those Mayan?

This is why I love Palenque.

K, the shrooms deserve their own blog. It's not something that I'm proud of, but that was one of the funnest, craziest, weirdest nights of my life. I was sure that I could make bicycle shocks out of bread.

The next morning, my stomach was still very upset, but we hopped a bus and went to Agua Azul. We went and bought more shrooms first and I think we got our bus tickets for the night bus before we left too. We stored our backpacks at the store by the terminal and headed out. Agua Azul is pretty, but it doesn't compare to Semuc Champey.

I really didn't want to swim there, but the problem was, It was dangerous NOT to swim. Joe put it best when he said the the cardiovascular benefits of swimming really do make it dangerous not to swim. I just wish that more people paid attention to that sign.

We made it back and got on the bus to Merida. This was the bus ride that was near disaster level for me an Tyson, but it worked out welll enough for me and Summers. Problem was that we didn't really want to be in Merida. We just wanted hammock and to get out. We had to wait until 10:00 or so, but finally got our hammocks at a good price and cruised back to the bus terminal for the noonish ride to Valladolid. :)

The town hall in Merida.

The Catedral in Merida.

So we made it all the way to Valladolid that day. That's a lot of bus ridin'.

Valladolid is one of my most absolute favorite places in the whole wide world. Summers was not so impressed. I think he liked the Cenotes (who wouldn't), but he's not so stoked on the colonial uh . . . atmosphere. We went to the Cenote and dove and jumped for hours. It was so cool, but I wish we would have rented bikes. That place is so cool. I want to buy a house there. I was doing some super high backflips and such. I think that all of the tourists were impressed.

Those are the roots of an alamo tree that is growing outside. The roots are at least twice as tall as the tree.

Kinda makes you want to live in a cave, doesn't it.

I bought my chess set (which as I think of it is missing now) at the cenotes. I always like to barter them down super low and then give them a little more than the agreed price. Its fun. Summers got a fresh coconut.

After the Cenotes, we headed back to the hostel. That place is really cool too. It just fits perfectly with the rest of Valladolid. We tried putting the mushrooms on a tin roof, since they were going bad by then. It dried them out, but it killed them too. That night, we met Andrew and Lucy, a father/daughter team that would become our travel companions for the next few days.

Thats Andrew (the old man and the sea) and his daughter Lucy, who Summers wanted to hook up with so badly. He didnt quite talking about it for days. (just kidding, Summers)

Andrew and Lucy became our friends that night, and convinced us to go to the ruins of Copal. Those ruins were really not that impressive, and it was so hot that I wouldnt say I had a ton of fun there.
Theyre cool I guess.

We cruised from there to Tulum where we bought some supplies and headed out to the beach. Papaya playa wasnt as magical as I remember it. Most of the huts had been blown over in the hurricanes. Ours was one of the last ones standing, just barely. Still, it was cheap enough and right on the ocean.

You cant complain about this view

That place has its own charm. Andrew, Lucy, Summers and I picked up a bottle of Mezcal in town and had bonfire ..1. I dont remember that much of it. Apparently the fact that I had a good sized bottle of something else played into that. Im not a big fan of Mezcal. Andrew had a great joke though, and that one I remember well. Ask me about lemon entry anytime.

We went to the ruins the next day. We played chess, played in the water, went to town and burned a day. That was nice. Summers likes to travel really hard. Sometimes its a little too hard.

Tulum is right on the beach. Seriously.

This kid was playing the Mayan ruins apparently suck game on his gameboy. I found the situation quite comical.

We had bonfire ..2 and more jokes and more Andrew and Lucy the next night. That was fun enough, but I think we were about done with them. They took off the next morning anyway.

Somehow we managed to burn another day away and that night they were having a party at one of the other hotels down the road. Summers once again met the love of his life there. A different one, but still . . . she was strange.

Summers killed me at chess every time, but only because he did this for at least an hour every game.

This was at the party that night. That guy loved to beat on his drum.

DJ Sonny Warton was there that night. Apparently hes a pretty big deal. Seemed like good techno to me.

Next morning was a travel day. Off to Belize. Goodbye Mexico. Well be back in a year or two.

Grant Deton 9-12-06

2007-02-28T13:19:00.000-08:00

We were turned around by snow and wet rock about 600 feet from the top. Very disappointing.

Click on any of the pictures and it will take you to more.

Price

You tube? I tube too.

2007-02-28T13:11:00.000-08:00

Hey Hey Hey,

I'm just seeing if I can post a youtube video:

Sarah

2005-07-21T10:12:00.000-07:00

Sarah
Originally uploaded by price1869.

Bi as well.

Scout

2005-07-21T10:11:00.000-07:00

Scout
Originally uploaded by price1869.

Just seeing how the pictures are posted to the blog. I'll post my bi girls now.

2004-12-01T13:54:00.000-08:00

hip hop = life

Reposts from another site

2004-12-01T13:44:00.000-08:00

Posted early in November:

Why I will vote for Bush on Tuesday
In the election on Tuesday I will be voting for the Re-election of President Bush. I hope that everyone else will too. Here are the reasons why:1. Family - Family is the basic unit of society. I believe that the degradation of the family unit is the first step toward a failing society/culture. It's easy to see (Europe) that when family values are eroded, society becomes dirty and wicked.

2. Life - I believe that a woman has the right to do what she wants with her body before conception. As soon as that sperm and egg combine, it's no longer her body. I was once made of just two embryotic cells. So were you. and you and you. The same goes for a bunch of little cells in a petri dish. Just because you harvested the embryo doesn't make it right to kill it. Besides, from what I've read and seen, stem-cell research has some potential, but it's not saving any lives.

3. War - Bush is a stronger leader in the war on terror. This is a war that he didn't start. The war in Iraq may be questionably related to Osama and 911, but it was the right war. Sadaam was supporting other terrorists. His people were oppressed, and I think that it is sad that there are a select few trying to usurp power in the midst of the fallen regime. Bringing freedom to those people who wanted it was the correct thing to do. 4. God - There is eternal truth. There is right and wrong which is unalienable by any man, society, or reason. God has said that homosexuality is wrong. God has said that murder is wrong. Fornication is wrong. Adultery, lying, stealing, and oppression are all wrong. George Bush prays and I believe that God answers his prayers. I don't believe that John Kerry believes in God, and if he does, he doesn't give him a lot of respect.[Who am I to question someone's belief in God? Well, I'm an Elder in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I also know a thing or two about the Catholic church of which John Kerry is a member. Catholic doctrine has taken a stance against homosexuality, abortion, and a slew of other things that Kerry seems to support. Many Catholic leaders have asked for the ex-communication of Kerry because of his views. Also, I don't believe that campaining from the pulpit of churches to which he doesn't belong is even remotely respectful of God or religion. Quoting scripture in the hipocritical way that Kerry does is blasphemous. Bush doesn't have to campain from the pulpit because he is already doing what God would have him do and that speaks for itself.]

4. Economy - This one is a no brainer for anyone who has ever studied any kind of macro economics. Bush's policies are just right. Alan Greenspan has done an incredible job of pulling our country through a recession created by Osama bin Laden and Billy Clinton. If you want jobs to really dissappear, you raise taxes on the people who create those jobs. Corporations and small businesses create those jobs. The deficite is a mute issue, and the president (no matter what his policy) has little control over oil prices until the liberals start letting us drill the enormous resources in Alaska. Like I said, the economy is a no brainer.5. Foreign Policy - Bush has shown the world that the US doesn't wear knee pads. France, Russia, and Germany were making a load of money from the Oil for Food program in Iraq. Russia was storing weapons there. Why do people think that they didn't want to go to Iraq with us. No global tests. No asking permission. The United States of America is the greatest, most righteous, and freedom loving nation in the world. We bring freedom. We bring capitalism. We bring hope and light to the world, and Europe can go to hell if that's where it wants to go, but there is no shame in fighting for what's right. The soldiers in Iraq and Afganistan and Normandy, Vietnam, Lexington, Bull Run, they've died for freedom. I love them and respect them. I'm grateful every day for them.In conclusion, I wil vote for George Bush because he is the better man to lead this nation and the free world. I believe in loving people, but I don't believe in toleration of evil practices. We are all natural men and we should overcome our passions in order to do what is right. We should not hide them behind a society that says it's okay to do what is wrong. Please send feedback and know that this is my belief. God bless America.

Chile Journal number one
Okay, i´m going to try tokeep a journal of what I´m doing in Chile, more for me, but i suppose that others might want to know what the hell is up with me.
I spent the weekend in Las Vegas, supposedly doing some work, but mostly just hanging out with my friends Summers (Jason) and Libby. Libby took me to the airport on tuesday. I thought my flight left at two, but then i decided to look at the paper and discovered on the way to the airport that it didn´t leave until 4:00. So I sat in the airport forever.
My flight left to dallas, uneventful
From dallas, i boarded to go to chile. The plane was not very full. I had the whole middle row of seats to myself. There was a crying baby (two year old) next to me in the row of seats by the window. The only movie played on the 9.5 hour flight was "The Terminal" with tom hanks. I hadn´t ever even heard of it before. It was um..... Okay. I actually slept for about 5 hours while that damn baby was quiet. I can handle a kid who gets hurt and cries a little, but i hate the ones that just cry because they do. They just cry and cry and it´s that whiny kind of crying that is just half ass crying because they are too f-ing spoiled to put any effort into even crying. Okay, deep breath . . .
$100 dollars they charge people from the usa to enter chile. It´s in response to the visa charge that the usa puts on chileans. oh well. I found the hostel easy enough, and took a nap there to recover a bit of my energy.
I left the hostel a couple hours later and tried to get familiar with the layout of the city. I didn´t take any busses, but just walked around through the commercial districts. It´s a lot like mexico and guatemala here, except it seems exceptionally safe. I spent 2.5 hours at an internet cafe looking up people to visit, when I should have just gone home and looked in the phone book. Oh well. The night was pretty much the same. I went looking for the church to go to on sunday. It´s under construction.
I was the last one in the hostel to wake up this morning. How embarrasing. The day started off bad, but after I ate some lasagna it got a little better. It´s amazing what hunger does to me. I get so grumpy. Well, theres someone else waiting for the computer, I´ll cover the rest tomorrow.
Later peeps
Price