On the first day of 2012…

We hit the climbing gym right when it opened, correctly betting that everyone else would be too hungover to get started on their new year resolutions. It was so fun having the place to ourselves, being able to climb whatever route we fancied without having to stand in line.

Afterwards, we went to an Indian restaurant around the corner. You know it’s a great find when all the other tables are Indian. Mmm!

And in the evening, my ex-roommate/Jeff’s ex-coworker stopped by for a visit. It was a riot catching up with all the new adventures she’s been up to since moving from the city.

On a whim, we headed to the cinema across the street, and caught The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.

Great relaxing way to usher in the year.

Beautiful Fall Day of Climbing at Devils’ Lake

In S’s words: “Best climbing trip ever!” Haha, I don’t know if that was indeed the best trip, but it was a most excellent one! We had such a blast. The weather was PERFECT. Sunny and cool at 60 degrees. And even though the Eastern Flank of Devils’ Lake was crowded with groups of climbers, some of whom selfishly hogged dozens of routes, we were lucky and didn’t have to wait in line. Climbed some cool routes, and Jeff, under Eugene’s patient tutelage, successfully made his second ever trad lead!

Climbing, Red River Gorge

We stole away for a short weekend trip south, to Kentucky. Susan had organized a climbing trip down at the Red River Gorge.

Went to Left Flank, a new wall we had not previously been to. Good fun. I climbed five different routes, and scaled up the 5.8+ twice. If only the starts weren’t quite so hard, especially for someone with my limited reach!

That settles it…

I know trapezing has taken over climbing as my favorite hobby/sport, when I had to drag myself to the climbing wall this evening. The entire time – when I was doggedly hauling myself up the wall and when I was lethargically belaying Jeff below – I found myself wishing I was out on the lakefront, flying through the air in the cool evening breeze. Especially since I’d checked and found that there were only 2 people signed up for the 6pm class. Imagine how many turns I could have had!

In any case, I’m really sore from yesterday’s class, and perhaps also from climbing at the gym on Sunday. My left arm hurt just to pull in the slack while belaying. I barely even had the energy to drag myself home after too. Ayioh.

A rafting and climbing weekend

This was a weekend long in the making. Originally, we had planned to go last October, but at the last minute, the rafting company, Northwood Adventures, called to cancel the trip. Someone had vandalized their vehicles, they said, consequently, they couldn’t run until the next season. We then re-scheduled our trip for April, but Eugene tore his ligament coming off a climb in Vegas, so we had to reschedule yet again. Finally, on a gloriously warm July weekend, the four of us drove up to Michigan for the adventure.

I was the only one who’s gone rafting before; the others were all nervous but excited about their first experience. In the end, everyone had a blast – though our route was short, only 4.5 miles, but we did run a class 4 rapid twice. We had a great guide in Matt, who entertained us with tales of his rearing chickens and pigs on his land so that he’d have enough meat to see him through the winters.

We crashed overnight in a motel in Wisconsin Rapids, a small town of 18,000, which is pretty darn big compared to the tiny little town of 888 we passed on the way over. I always wonder – how does the census arrive at such a precise number to print on the sign? Is there a sort of purgatory where the old and infirm are delegated for every newborn that inches the number upwards? Anyway.

The next morning, we woke up early to shove down a quick breakfast at the only diner in Necedah, before making the short hike to a small collection of outcrops by the river for some climbing. Though the hour was still early, the heat was already oppressively muggy, and the swarm of mosquitoes didn’t quite help matters.

But the climbing was cool though – our first route was a long 95 feet climb called Air, from which we were afforded a great view of the river, which looked so inviting and far away.

We were out on the outcrop for the entire day, and quite nearly wilted in the heat. Even so, Eugene coached Jeff through his first trad climb; pretty cool stuff!

Well, at least the world isn’t about to end

Ok. Gotta keep things in perspective. The weather for my much anticipated Boundary Waters canoeing trip this weekend may be terrible, but we’d still be out in the wilderness. It’s a luxury that not many people can afford. Especially those that have been hard hit by the historical number of tornadoes in the south.

To be honest, I’d been toying with the idea of joining a one-week storm chasing tour, ala Twister. The idea had seemed all adventurous and exhilarating at the time – finding tornadoes on the radar screen and trying to drive directly into the heart of it. But now, it seems kinda callous… too many people have lost too much for me to desire making a sport of it.

Still, it’s been the worst spring in years. Not just in Chicago, but world-wide. So many storms, droughts, floods, earthquakes, eruptions… We have managed to make the most of it though, all things considered. Lucked out with a bit of dry window last weekend, when we got down to Kentucky for some climbing. Wasn’t the most rigorous and strenuous of our climbing trips; we only climbed 5 different routes over 2 days. But we were still thankful to be down in the warmth and sunshine, in spite of all the silliness and particularities of the friends who went down with us that, for a while, nearly threatened the trip.

Horseshoe Canyon

It was quite a spectacular drive down to Arkansas – we got dumped with rain and were treated to series after series of dazzling lightnings. At one point – this was around 130 am; Miles was driving, I was shotgun, and Susan and Jeff were dozing in the back – three lightnings simultaneously lit up the sky in front of us. For a whole minute after, the purple flash of lights was seared into my brain.

We knew we wouldn’t be able to escape the rain. Still, we held on stubbornly to some hope. And somewhat miraculously, we were able to put in a full day of climbing! Some of the rock was still damp, or had water running off, but for the most part, the brisk winds helped dry out enough of the rock. We managed to 9 climbs each on Friday.

I love Horseshoe. It’s the perfect place for beginners to learn to lead. We didn’t have to walk far for all the moderate climbs! And Jeff did an outstanding job leading 8 climbs, two of which I still don’t have the guts to lead. Yay! I’m stoked; we should now be able to go on climbing trips on our own!

The good weather window was short though. By Friday evening, the thunderstorms had closed in again. Series of tornadoes were sighted in St. Louis. We lounged around in our cosy wooden cabin and feasted on a super unhealthy diet of beer, nachos and cheese before we zonked off before 10pm.

Everyone awoke Saturday morning feeling fully rested after 11 hours of sleep. But climbing was not meant to be. The rains continued to lash down, relentless. So what does one do in the middle of a Hose Ranch then?

Plenty! As it turns out. Haha. We passed many hours away at the gym, playing:
1. PIG on the small basketball court
2. Add on on the bouldering wall
3. Slack-lining
4. Simulating spelunking in a speleo box
5. Milk crate climbing

Jeff trying to worm his way out of the Speleo Box, a cave-crawling simulator

Miles has the most trouble of all of us trying to crawl through the tight space

Milk crate climbing – don’t dig it till you try it. It’s unbelievably fun, and a scream… literally.

Right before the fall

We also passed the evening easily, downing 3 bottles of wine, more chips, and playing a variety of card games: Spade, Hearts, Euker, Good Morning M’am, Bluff…

By this time, we knew there wasn’t any shot of us doing any more climbs down at HCR on the trip. The rain continued unabated through the night through the morning. So we packed up, and drove the 10 hours back to Chicago. But I’m thankful for the great trip anyway! It was awesome company, tons of laughs, and the drive didn’t feel so painful with the streaming of different stand up comedians.

Upper Limits

The air was thick, wet, early Saturday morning, as we drove down Lake Shore Drive. The upper floors of the skyscrapers along the waterfront were shrouded in mist. It had been like that the day before too; I couldn’t see anything but an impenetrable fog of white out of my 26th floor office.

But as we drove westwards, away from the city and into the flat prairies of the Midwest, the fog started to thin out. Gradually, the scattered farmhouses in the middle of the fields became less indistinguishable. And in the soft morning light, everything took on gentle shades of pastel colors. It was like driving through Monet’s Rouen Cathedral sunrise series. Nowadays, when I have to drive through such flat, open lands, my first instinct is gah, get me out of the boring Midwest! But that morning, I remembered how, when in my teens, I’d been so taken with the notion of driving through such precisely open landscapes. Having thus far grown up in Singapore, the notion of such wide spaces had seemed so utterly foreign, romantic to me.

In any case, we were making the two hour drive to Upper Limits, a climbing gym converted from abandoned grain silos. We’d wanted, needed, a change of indoor climbing scenery, and the idea of scaling up the inside walls of 65-foot grain elevators was exciting. Susan met us at the gym, and we spent the next six hours trying out a total of 15 different routes each, nonstop. It was tiring, but gratifying.

And our spirits were lifted more when we finally emerged from the artificially lit depths of the silos to find that spring had finally descended upon the Midwest. In the span of a few hours, the clouds had completely lifted and for the first time in weeks, blue skies! And better yet, it was now a balmy 75 degrees – no need for a coat of any kind!

Of course we simply had to take advantage of this window of awesomeness. Nevermind that we were running slightly late for a dinner engagement back in the city. We squeezed in an hour’s walk along the old I&M Canal.

Happy year of the rabbit

Gone are the days where I would eagerly look forward to crazy road trips/weekend getaways. I’m either getting old or I need a change of scenery from the blah flat Midwest.

Anyway, at the last minute, J and I decided to scrap plans to go up to Munising to ice climb this past weekend. For one, J isn’t a big fan of the sport, having tried it once in Sandstone in sub-sub freezing conditions. For another, our car was still kinda stuck in the driveway after the crazy blizzard, and neither of us felt neighborly enough to shovel out the snow.

And road conditions was still kinda sketchy. We even cancelled plans for a hot pot dinner at home on Thursday because friends didn’t/couldn’t drive out and we couldn’t get groceries. Instead, at the last minute, we took the train to Chinatown and spent the evening with another merry group to herald in the new year.

Saturday, someone finally came through the alley with a snow plow. I really needed to be out and about, to enjoy the bonanza of snow instead of swearing under my breath every time I tried to navigate the sidewalks. So we made the short 2 hour drive to Berrien County Michigan, for a spot of cross country skiing.

Just what the doctor ordered. Our moods were high as we swished and slid our way across the pristine, fluffy white snow, exchanging smiles and pleasantries with everyone we passed. There is so something very relaxing and appealing about wandering around the snow covered trees, more so than a walk through the very same bit of woods in the summer.

We completed all 7.5 miles of the trails in good time, and headed back to Chicago to meet up with people for another new year dinner. Hoping to go out again this weekend, and we are now very sorely tempted to purchase our own skis. Just think – I would also then be able to ski to work in the next storm!

Sunday, we joined two of my coworkers at their bi-weekly Sunday exercise: two hours of yoga! Aye, I couldn’t help checking my watch every five minutes to see how much time was left. While I can see the benefits of the workout, I think I shall stick to activities that are actually fun. Heh. Like climbing, which J and I brought them to do after yoga. after four hours of that, we were ravenous enough to go to L&M’s for our third new year dinner of the year.

Time Warp Time Again

Thanks to daylight savings, the sun is setting at the depressingly early time of 430pm.

Still, it was nice to have that extra hour hour of sleep in this morning, particularly after the late night last night.

I tried my best to recuperate from that lingering cold during the day Saturday, but enforced rest makes me grumpy. I don’t know how some people can laze around all weekend every weekend; I need to be out and about!

Saturday evening, we headed down to Navy Pier to catch Conrad Anker’s Wildest Dream, a documentary which examined the possibility of George Mallory being the first person to ascent Everest. It was a somewhat slow moving film, but I relished the panoramas of Everest from the glacier moraines on the Tibetan side, for it reminded me of my trek to base camp back in the day. Ah. Those good old days where my knees hadn’t yet failed me! Now, I can barely walk down 5 flights of stairs before they start to groan in agony. Gah.

Afterwards, Joe, Ben, Jeff and I met up with Liguel in Chinatown, where we hurriedly wolfed down a filling but yummy dinner before we headed to Aloft, for the 10pm performance of El Circo Cheapo. Easily the highlight of my – and perhaps all of our – week.

Pictures courtesy of Joe, who is now also inspired to take up some classes on the trapeze.

From 11-06-10 El Circo Cheapo

From 11-06-10 El Circo Cheapo

From 11-06-10 El Circo Cheapo

From 11-06-10 El Circo Cheapo

Aren’t the pictures inspiring? Jeff and I got home and promptly tried to practice some sets on our pull up bar, but sadly we didn’t get very far…

This morning, after dim sum with some coworkers, we headed out to VE, where we spent the next few hours climbing with Joe. After a month’s hiatus on the wall, my stamina was nowhere to be found. And it was disheartening and frustrating to see the boys easily reach for holds that I had to make three/four extra moves to get to. There was one route especially, a 10c, that was next to a crack. While the route setter’s note didn’t exclude the use of the cracks, Joe thought that the climb wouldn’t have been a 10c with the use of the cracks. But how else was I to reach some of the reachier holds otherwise? And it was still a tough execution nonetheless! Anyway, at that moment, I suddenly found myself appreciating the trapeze more. On the bars, it doesn’t matter how tall you are – what matters is your strength, agility, and flexibility. Which can all be trained/built up. Whereas I can’t make myself grow taller.