No rooms so we crash at the rest area in the Virgin River Gorge. Really cold!

Day 2: We catch breakfast in St. George and head for Zion. Grab a campsite and head for Angel's Landing. The kids whine, but we start hiking anyway. All goes well - the kids love the wiggles. The hairy part of the trail (carved steps and chains to hold onto over 1000 foot cliffs) is tough for Marti: she has to watch me holding onto Jay at the edge of the drop. I tried to get Alastair and Marti interested in going all the way up to the rim but they were too mellow.

We found my folks at dinner - they had hoped to meet us on the trail but we were too far ahead. My three brothers were in the Grand Canyon and arrived back that evening.

Day 3: We went to the visitor center and I had a look at the notebooks about backcountry hikes. I didn't find any easy slot canyons but there was a nice looking hike up one of the mountains overlooking the main canyon: Mountain of the Sun.

Jay went with Grandma and Grandpa to have a mellow day while everyone else drove up through the tunnel to the start of the hike. We start about a mile past the tunnel. The hiking is mostly slickrock and very pretty. Eric found a small slot canyon so he's happy. We get off route for a while but eventually enter a narrow canyon behind the peak and have lunch. Everyone but Alastair and I are ready to bail - the rest of the gang play in a snowbank just past the lunch site while Alastair and I plug on. After following the narrow valley a while, a really nice ramp system leads up to the saddle between our peak and the one just south of it (Twin Brothers). The last 600' has some exposed scrambling but nothing technical. I'm rather glad Eric isn't there, though. Summit views are stunning - we look over to Angel's Landing and the Zion Lodge and across to the Patriarchs. Great peak! Back down to the campground.

My folks and Jay ran into friends of ours - the Bonomos, Fran and Margie. They live just a little way from my folks and I used to work in the same building as Fran. They are in the same motel as my folks and we visit that evening.

Day 4: The plan is to catch Little Wild Horse canyon, a slot canyon near Goblin Valley. Fran and Margie are with us but my Dad and my brothers all ran off to Vegas. We have breakfast at the Checkerboard Mesa pullout and watch the parade of tourons. Lots of driving - we take the back roads from I-70 instead of going through Escalante. We arrive at the trailhead at 4.

Everyone thinks the hike is great. It's getting harder to get Mom over small rock scrambles such as the one at the start of the canyon but everyone made it into the narrows. Alastair and Eric race ahead while I stay with the rest of the gang. Jay has big fun hiding in the potholes. Everyone is impressed with the hike but we turn back before the end since it's late. We all stay in Green River that night.

Day 5: The plan of the day is to leave the kids with Grandma and run to Colorado Natl Monument to bag Otto's Route. Marti and Alastair have never done it and it's big fun. Sadly, as we arrive huge signs proclaim the rock `off limits' due to falcon nesting. Rats! Nothing to do but head back to Moab. Marti and Alastair decide to run the Daily on the Colorado River in the inflatable kayak while I look for the boys and Mark Abbott. The boys are at the motel so we head to the Potash road to climb and look for Mark.

No sign of the Ab - might as well climb a little. Eric leads a 5.7 sport route (one he had tried 3 years ago) and runs right up it. To the right I see an easy looking dihedral - might as well try one more route. Eric belays. Easy to the 3rd bolt - oops, need cams! I downclimb and grab a few. Back up to the last bolt. This must be the crux! So far, it's been nice 5.7 or so; no way I would fall on Eric's belay. But here, the crack closed down and the walls are smooth. What to do? Eric holds me while I hang. No obvious buckets but the top is just another 10 feet. I don't want to fall so I weenie out and grab the biner. Hmmm - still not over the crux! No final bucket! Rats! I yo-yo up and down; Eric holds me while I rest. Grandma holds Eric to keep him from flying up (no available ground anchors!). Finally, inspiration hits. I step in the sling on the bolt and get high enough to grab the anchor. What sort of technique am I teaching my son? With the top rope, I drop back and work the move. Definitely 5.9 or so. As Eric lowers me Grandma holds him down - his feet are a few inches off the ground the whole time. (I also have a hand ready to grab the belay rope - no need to take chances!). Everyone thinks the whole situation is hilarious. Getting late - gotta rescue Marti and Alastair!

Driving upriver, who is standing by the road but Mark! He's been climbing with a friend, Keith, and didn't know exactly where to meet. All is well - I leave Eric with Dorie (Mark's dog) and find Marti and Alastair waiting by the road.

At dinner, we develop a plan: Mark and I have done Castleton but Keith and Alastair are keen so we split up. Keith thinks he can take all the cruxes on Castleton and we would rather not do the nasty hike up there. Mark will join Marti and I for a mellow day sportclimbing back at the Potash road while Alastair and Keith go for the tower.

Day 6: The kids are with Grandma and Grandpa - a peaceful day. We start with the climb I did with Eric - lot's easier with a real belayer! Mark leads a nice 5.9 layback to the right. We bag a 5.8 crack and then run into town for lunch. After that we grab the local classic, Nervous in Suberbia (5.9+) and I lead Flakes of Wrath (5.9), a way cool route. Mark and I have no clue how to finish a 5.11 TR off the Flakes anchor. The grand finale is Bad Moki Roof (5.8) - way easier for me than for Mark. All great climbs.

We worry a little about the Castleton climbers but find them driving back as we start our rescue effort. No problem! They have triumphed and all is well. The kids had a good time in Canyonlands, too.

Day 7: Marti decided to hang with the kids while the rest of us flail around in Indian Creek. Gotta do Supercrack (5.10)! Mark has been here before and has a score to settle. Can he get up without a hang? I take the first short pitch - a brief but desparate layback move to a large ledge. Mark gets racked and ready - we have enough cams to climb anything! Based on Trout's guidebook gear list, Mark takes all the #2 camalots and leaves a lot of the #3's on the ground. Off he goes, jamming for glory! Above the roof, the crack widens. Oops! Gotta have those #3's. There goes the no-hang ascent. Mark ties off and Santa places a bunch of #3 camalots under the tree. Back to work, Mark races on up, placing almost nothing but #3s. Wow - he's on top! I lower him off the chains and it's my turn.

Unlike sane folks, I choose to climb without tape or Spider Mitts. It's smooth rock, after all. The lower part is super-secure hands. No problem through the small roof. Hmm - can a tall person bag a rest by stepping over to the pillar way on the right? You bet!! What a deal - a tall-folks-only rest ledge. I pause and laugh at the genetically inferior weenies below. Back to the crack. It widens and my jams become less secure. Damn - gotta rest again! I'm past the pillar so I destroy my ethical ascent and hang on the rope. Boo! Hiss! Back to it, huff puff, one hand over the other. No rests at all. Finally I'm at the top and lower down. The backs of my hands are red and swollen - shoulda used tape or something!

Alastair is next. At least he has sense enough to use the mitts. He has a hard time at first - a bunch of rests get him over the roof. He wants to back down but we cheer him on. The crack widens a bit and the mitts start to work perfectly. He races for the top with no effort at all!

Finally, it's Keith. Will he bag the only ethical ascent? Past the roof he's going strong. Wait - he asks for a rest! The crowd cheers - no ethics here!!! On to the top - now we've all bagged it.

Our next objective is `The Wave' (10+). A pair of honed-looking dudettes is just finishing up - they make it look easy. Mark says it's my lead. Oh well, at least this one appears to have some rest stances. This climb features lots of laybacking (yuk) and shallow jamming. At least the pro is good. I put in tons of cams - can't weenie out when I have this much pro. There are rests between the cruxes. I hang a couple of times but make steady progress. Just below the final crux is an inviting ledge - why not belay here, I'm wasted!

Mark makes quick work of my lead except for one nut buried deep in the crack. On to the chains! The crux is an overhanging layback. Mark rests on the pro a bit and eventually hits the chains and lowers down. I follow, totally desperate. Wasted, I reach the anchor and lower. I fish for the stuck nut but need a longer tool.

Next up is Keith. But before he goes up we need to find the right instrument to extract the stuck nut. Alastair gathers sticks but I reach into my pack and pull out it's huge white plastic back support. Over two feet long and is shaped like a shark fin - obviously the right thing to surf the "wave" with!

With this monstrous nut tool dangling from his harness, Keith climbs while the rest of us roll with laughter at the white surfboard he's carrying. He cruises up to the stuck nut and vanquishes it with one blow from the incredible shark fin. Every climber should carry one! He proceeds to the top without hangs, much to our disappointment. Alastair tries the shallow hand jams and decides this isn't his idea of fun.

Two routes is enough for us. We're all wasted and decide to drive to Canyonlands to find the others. We meet them right away and find out that Jay Lepreau is driving down from Salt Lake to meet us for a river trip. Keith heads to Salt Lake, Mark to Boulder, Grandma and Grandpa take Jay for a couple of days, and Marti, Eric, Alastair, and I head for the river.

Day 8: We drive into the night and eventually find a campsite near the San Rafael river. Our meeting is at the "Wedge Overlook" where we find Jay and his son Frank. We eat breakfast while looking into the canyon below. At the put-in we spend hours packing the boats. Jay brought a canoe and we have two inflatable kayaks. Jay has a bunch of river bags and we slowly crammed everything in and packed the boats.

Once all was packed we send Marti and Alastair down with kids in the IK's while Jay and I shuttle. We didn't hit the river until after 1pm - so much for an early start! The river was quite low and we were worried about dragging bottom (only about 50 cfs). Turned out just fine, though. We were able to stay in the boats the whole time without portaging any shallow areas.

We caught up with everyone around 3:15 and had lunch. The canyon is much busier than it used to be - we saw horse packers, hikers, and other canoes the whole time. Continuing through the best part of the canyon, we started looking for a camp. We eventually found a nice beach just before Virgin Spring canyon and settled down. This was a new experience for Eric: his first overnight river trip.

Alastair and I hiked up the ridge overlooking Virgin Spring canyon while the others set up camp. Frank and Eric spend much of their time skipping rocks. We had a roaring fire and Eric got to roast hotdogs and marshmallows for dinner. We took the seat out of the new kayak (an Aire Lynx II we bought for this trip) and let Eric use it as a bed.

Day 9: We got a very slow start in the morning - between playing with the kids, eating, and packing we didn't push off till 11 or so. We let Eric and Frank be captains of the blue kayak. Just downstream was Virgin Spring canyon - a tributary of the San Rafael. At its mouth was an area of deep, squishy black mud. We convinced the boys to take off their suits and go for a wallow. Marti and Alastair (suits on) joined them and soon all of them were covered from head to toe with black mud. Alastair compared it to the rugby games of his youth and tackled the kids. This was the highlight of the whole trip for Eric - when we got back he wrote a story about his mud bath for his teacher. We took lots of pictures of muddy dudes and then rinsed everyone off. Unfortunately, the mud was a real chore to rinse off (lots of clay) and the kids were chilled by the cold river water. It was getting late in the day and we pushed off again.

After that it was a typical San Rafael float: great scenery, small rapids, slow current. We didn't get to the takeout until 6 or so. We crammed everyone in Jay's van and rolled. Eric and Frank played while we picked up our jeep then we split up and started our drive to Escalante to meet Grandma and Grandpa. Everyone was wasted and we stopped at a motel in Salina for the night.

Day 10: We didn't pull into Escalante until noon. No sign of Jay or Grandma and Grandpa. We hang out and do laundry. After that, a mad dash out to the closest slot canyons: Peek-a-boo, Spooky, and Dry Fork Coyote. Eric and Alastair have big fun even though the wind is blowing sand all over the place. Back in town we find everyone else - they had taken Jay to Bryce when we didn't arrive by 10.

Day 11: This is the big family adventure: backpacking to Coyote Gulch. The plan is for Grandma and Grandpa to join us for the hike down and then head back to town that night. The rest of us will camp by Jacob Hamlin arch. Another late start: it's after noon when we finally hit the trail. Eric carries his bag and clothes; Jay has a small pack with a jacket. Marti, Alastair, and I all have huge packs.

The hike in is easy but needs routefinding. We take a compass bearing - the arch is pretty much due north - and we start out on a path across the desert. We pass a small mesa on the left, adding a few more cairns to the path, and then follow drainages to the canyon. We lose signs of a trail while wondering over the slickrock. I run ahead and find we're a little east of our goal: a finger of rock that drops all the way down into the canyon. Only one of the fingers allows entry and we need to find the right one. I run back and point everyone on the correct path. We see some cairns and soon get to the steep part.

Eric and Jay have no problems with the friction slab descent but Grandma and Grandpa need some help. I have a rope and harness: I put Grandpa in the harness and lower him over the worst bit. He's nervous but does just fine. Grandma has done this before and we're all down. A large party of high school age kids is coming out - I speculate this is a "hoods in the woods" program or something. They have lost some kids but there are other groups in the canyon.

It's almost three - we eat lunch and Marti and Alastair start hiking to the Escalante river, about 7 miles downstream. Grandma and Grandpa are impressed by the arch and we meet some folks they had seen earlier in the trip, accompanied by a large black dog named Magic. I ask the kids to play while I take Grandma and Grandpa back up. Grandma has no problems with me behind her but Grandpa wants the rope again. I guess my dad is secretly a rock climber at heart! One the rope is on he has no problems and gets much more cheerful now that there's no more rock climbing to be done.

While we were working with the rope, our friends with the dog started up. It was soon obvious that this wasn't a climbing dog - he was gripped out! Once I was done with my dad we tied the rope onto Magic and I did my first dog belay. We eventually got everyone out and I gave them our car keys so they could drive to their car at the other trailhead. In return, they agreed to stay with Mom and Dad and make sure they made it out OK. This all worked out perfectly and they enjoyed each other's company on the hike out.

Meanwhile, I started setting up camp with the boys. They had kindly avoided fighting and getting in trouble while I was up on the rock but now they were bored playing in the water. We camped on the bend of the river at the end of the finger containing the arch. The guidebook says that the river has cut almost 200 feet inward from the canyon rim. We were camped in a huge chamber next to the stream with a relatively small hole in top. There would be no problem if it rained! Sounds echoed loudly in the chamber - we could easily hear other parties camped by the opening of the arch. The beach was a perfect campsite and we soon had the packs unpacked and the tents set up.

As we cooked dinner, some bozos were making tons of noise, rolling rocks, and shouting over in the arch. Turns out these bozos were missing `hoods in the woods' (or whatever). Just as I was about to give them a piece of my mind, they left us to eat in peace. We cooked dinner and then Jay crawled in bed while Eric and I played cribbage. It was almost dark when Marti and Alastair returned. They had made it to with a couple miles of the Escalante before turning back - too bad we had gotten such a late start. They were peeved with me for telling them they could do it without getting their feet wet - both of them had soaked their feet. But I really had made it with dry feet a few years ago! They were tired and hungry; they ate and sacked out for the night.

Day 12: The day was gray and cool. Eric, Jay, and I were the first up. After breakfast, I decided to see if I could climb the finger over Jacob Hamlin arch with Jay. This was harder than the finger we hiked down on but not that bad - Jay and I had a great view of the camp and the canyon. I just had to keep him away from the edge! Eric wanted to join us but decided not to do the climb without a spot.

After our adventure on the arch, the boys and I decided to hike down to Coyote Natural Bridge while Marti and Alastair rested. We were really slow because the boys wanted to hike barefoot in the stream. In a few places, the stream leaves it's sandy bottom to fall over short slickrock steps, often cutting miniature canyons in the rock. The kids loved these places and we wasted a lot of time playing in the water. We found a great pothole that could hide a kid almost completely. After getting to the bridge, we put the shoes back on and hiked back to camp.

It was already past noon when we arrived. Marti and Alastair had climbed on the arch and been taking photos - a very lazy morning! The climb up the slickrock was no problem for the kids but when we got out of the canyon the weather turned worse - wind and rain. The hike back to the car was a bit of an ordeal for the boys (although doing it in afternoon heat would probably have been just as bad!) but we eventually made it back to the car. That night we stayed at the motel next to Grandma and Grandpa; Eric enjoyed a game of Hearts with Grandpa and shot the moon on the first hand!

Day 13: Rain clouds hung over the desert. We decided to do a mellow day: Alastair and Eric would hike to upper Calf Creek falls while I take the rest on the Burr Trail in the Jeep. We left Alastair and Eric behind and drove through Boulder to the Burr Trail. The weather was getting worse - snow was in the air. We stopped the Jeep in Long Canyon to look around; when we got back there was the other car: Eric had refused to hike in this weather! Now all together again, we crossed the Circle Cliffs and I decided to look for a petrified wood area to the south of the Burr Trail I had never been to. Although this part of the Burr Trail is paved, the road we turned onto wasn't. A few miles later, a tire on the Jeep blew out. We stopped and it was totally shredded! It took a while to dig out the jack and change the tire but we were soon on the road again.

The petrified wood area (Wolverine Gulch) turned out to be really cool. We were greeted by a fence and a sign saying that no wood gathering was permitted in the protected area. Eric was bummed out but we hiked in and looked around. After a short hike we found an area littered with log-sized chunks of petrified wood. We were all impressed with both the quantity and quality of the wood. After a while, Eric and I went back to the car to see if there was any wood outside the protected area. Although there were no full size tree trunks outside the fence, there were many smaller pieces to be found. We gathered a handful of souvineers and headed back. Alastair also went souvineer hunting when he saw what we had found.

Grandpa and Grandma needed to head back to Denver, so we drove back to Boulder and said goodbye. The spare tire had a warning not to drive over 50 on it so we drove back to Escalante at a rather leisurely pace. As we neared town we started smelling burning rubber - turns out the spare tire is a little smaller than the other wheels and it was rubbing on the pavement and heating up. We definitely had to get a real tire soon!

There's only one place to get a tire in Escalante and fortunately they had one the right size. After a full hour on the phone with the rental company, we finally learned that we needed to take the dead tire back to Vegas with us to be credited for the new tire. One more thing to haul around! By 3 we were ready to roll again.

The next stop was a slot canyon: Bull Valley Gorge, near Bryce. This is the one with the crushed truck in it (an old bridge collapsed). We hiked up along the rim to the entrance. It was much wetter than last time we had been there and we turned back before getting to the deep part because of the mud.

We had just enough time left to make a dash for Bryce before sunset. We hiked the Navaho loop (even though part of the trail was closed! We're bad role models for our kids!) and had a great time on the hike.

We ate dinner in Red Canyon. It was nearly freezing and we were glad to be cooking a hot meal. The comet was bright in the sky and we heard coyotes and owls. We decided that it was too cold to camp so we hit a motel in Panguitch.

Day 14: We rolled into Zion around 11. Alastair was keen to do some climbing. Although I didn't know much about it, I suggested CHeckerboard Mesa.

Most of the climbs on my spring vacation were the usual "follow the guidebook / follow the beta / follow the chalk / follow the crowds" routine. While that's fine enough, there's always something to be said for getting back to the roots of the sport: climbing as an adventure. While this climb wasn't all that hard or noteworthy it stood out from the others.

Many years ago I had leafed through the notebooks in the visitor center at Zion. I don't remember much but I do recall one thing: they used to suggest `Checkerboard Mesa' as an introductory route to climbing in Zion and said it was about 5.7. Armed with this miniscule bit of information, we decided to give it a shot as we drove past.

Checkerboard Mesa is an appealing (to photographers) tower of soft, white Navajo sandstone near the east entrance to Zion. This is `real' sandstone: the bedding of the dunes which hardened to create this mesa is obvious: horizontal cracks, ripples, and ledges cut across the rock from bottom to top. Vertical cracks and grooves criss-cross these layers, forming the checkerboard appearance of the rock. It about 500' high, rising directly over the road, wide at the base and narrow at the top. The angle is fairly low at the bottom, similar to the Flatirons in Boulder, but near the top it steepens somewhat.

The regularity of the cracks makes it possible to climb nearly anywhere. Even with a guidebook, it would be almost impossible to know exactly which crack or groove you are in. Some of the cracks are deep enough to accept nuts and cams; many bottom out and provide no protection at all.

We start climbing as two teams: Alastair and my wife, Marti, and I am with my son Eric who is 9 years old. We choose two vertical crack systems that appear to afford good protection, although we can't really tell what happens after the first pitch. Eric and I are in a relatively easy crack: it's about 5.5 or 5.6 and takes cams. Eric takes the first lead and does a great job. He stops about 50 feet up when he runs out of cams.

Meanwhile Alastair and Marti are in a slightly harder crack. The protection is bad and Marti backs off. The rock is so soft that a fine sand is loosened with every scrape of the foot. Very nerve-racking compared to the harder sandstone we had climbed on by Moab and Indian Creek. As I finish the second lead, Alastair asks for help: he has run out of cams and would like a rope. Eric belays me over to his crack system and I climb down to him. He ties in with us while Marti decides to stay on the ground.

A couple of easy pitches with somewhat dubious protection take us to where the wall steepens. Many of the vertical cracks have petered out and above the line looks obvious: a prominent vertical crack that separates a smooth wall on the right from a more textured one on the left. This leads to an interruption in the crack and, near the top, a tree. This crack proves to be the best lead of the route: about 5.7 with OK but not great protection. Since the belay has a good ledge but not a good anchor, I bring Eric up second. He cleans the a nut that will fit in the crack so I can strengthen the belay for Alastair.

Except for some bail gear near the ground, there is no sign of previous ascents. No pin scars, bolts, chalk, or any other sign of climbers. Maybe it's all been eroded away over the winters!

Above, things begin to look dubious. The crack continues up 40 feet or so then bends left and peters out. The tree is about a rope length up. Nothing to do but go have a look. I get a couple of good nuts and then decide to climb right and up on fairly easy friction. So far so good! Strange - the rock has changed. It seems softer and the bedding of the dunes has shifted. Now, every hold slants down at 30 degrees or so. The cracks are all bottomed out - no chance for gear. Nothing to do but go for it: I top-toe up on friction through the sandy rock. I'm about 50' over my piece when I loose my nerve. No sign of pro anywhere. I don't want to take this fall! I slowly downclimb to where the rock strata changed. There's some indistinct ledges leading right - I start traversing. It's easy but there's no pro at all. I run out of rope just as I reach a sandy `ledge' with a bush on it. The trunk is 2 or 3 inches across - hope it's good wood! This is absolutely the only possible anchor so I have to use it. In spite of the tremendous pendulum potential, Eric and Alastair make it up to me without complaint. Eric's in a good mood, which is fortunate since there's no way down without rapping off poor anchors and probably losing a whole set of camalots!

What now? The group votes to have me take the next lead. Things don't look any better here than they did before the traverse. There's a small bush about 50' up and the tree is now way left and still much higher. Nothing to do but have a look!

I'm getting in pro every 20 or 30 feet but's it's mostly worthless. The bush above turns out to be an inch thick and is probably the best pro I get. I alternate between up and left. This is scaring the hell out of me - there are no handholds anywhere, just sandy sloping ledges for the feet. I console myself that it's not that steep - I probably wouldn't slide that fast if I lose it. There's also some loose rock - we worry about rolling boulders down on the road (god forbid we smash a bago full of tourists!) but everything we roll turns to dust long before it reaches the base.

The tree is my promised land: can I keep myself together long enough? I'm 50 or 60 feet over my last OK pro and my belayer is tied to a bush that's smaller than my son's arm. Definitely an adventure! Wait: a crack opens up! A good camalot! I'm saved!! Fortified, I make a run for the tree. Alastair has to unanchor to stretch it but I make it! What a relief! Eric and Alastair follow without problems.

The tree is growing at a change in the bedding - now the holds are incut instead of slopers. The last pitch is no problem - we made it. We're not sure we would ever do the climb again, but it's a great one to have done. We can see all the way to the main canyon: West Temple is on the far horizon. The hike down is relatively easy and we're back! Marti and Jay meet us with water. They have been having a mellow day watching us.

This pretty well shot the day - no time for slot canyons or kayaking. We ate in St. George and then rolled into the Virgin River Gorge. Crossing the river, Alastair hopped out for a look. Water! The storm had raised the water level and Eric was keen to kayak so we stayed at the rest area, hoping to yak the next day.

Day 15: Alastair and I grab the first run - we want to see what's there before Eric gets a turn. Marti and the kids go for breakfast while we put in. The water's low but runnable. No sand waves, though. Some of the drops are pretty steep - the run feels very adventurous although everything turns out to be fairly easy (except that we hit lots of rocks and scrape through bushes!). Nothing even remotely dangerous. The canyon is quite pretty - the highway is up and out of sight.

No sign of the gang at the takout in the rest area - we wait a while and a newly washed Jeep drives up - they have been busy! It's too low to put the other inflatable in so Alastair and Eric take the next run. Knowing there's nothing nasty down there, things seem much more mellow. Eric doesn't contribute much to the paddling, though, and they hit more rocks than the first run.

We put Jay in the boat for the last small rapid - he hates it. I guess he's not ready to be a hard-core boater. We pack up the boat and are off for Vegas.

We pull in to Desert Rock Sports after 4pm. Are we stupid enough to do one of the longer routes this late in the day? You bet! I check the guidebook for beta and then we haul ass to Cat in the Hat (5.6+). We're at the parking lot by 5 and set off as fast as we can. Marti and the boys go to play in Pine Creek. Half an hour later we're at the base of the route. First pitch is fun 5.5 or so - I zoom up. Alastair takes the next pitch up easy ledges. Another party is rapping and they point out the general line of the route. Pitch three is also a stroll - we're really moving! The next pitch is classic - up a crack to an overhang, traverse left and up a crack on black, varnished rock. Alastair cruises it. Getting late! I combine the next two pitches by getting Alastair to move the belay. Steep exposed varnish with great exposure and good pro. What more could you want? The crack peters out and there's some friction to a bolt. I'm out of gear and the rope drag is getting bad but I go for it and hit the top. The sun has set and we have four raps to do!

I'm ready to start down almost as soon as Alastair arrives. We rap at warp speed and are down before total darkness. We arrive at the car at 8:45, before the ranger patrol finds the car, even! Great route. We can't find the overflow campground and crash on a random parking lot for the night.

Day 16: I really wanted to get Eric and Marti out for a big climb so we decided to do Olive Oil (5.7). Alastair had done this before and agreed to watch Jay. After that, Alastair and I would try something else.

The usual slow start puts us at the trailhead after 10. This is all for the better, though, since it lets other parties get ahead and puts the route in the shade for us.

Although the approach is short by Vegas standards, it's long by Eric standards and by the time we're ready to climb all of the other parties on the route are far above. The first pitch is easy wide chimney and a short but hard 5.7 crux. Eric has problems with the wide part and the crux but eventually makes it. I lead all the pitches on two ropes and belay both Eric and Marti at the same time so he's always got someone nearby for advice.

The belay alcove is super and although he had problems on the first pitch he's ready to charge. The next pitch is a crack just right of a huge dihedral. It starts easy but soon gets harder and more sustained. I'm not sure where to stop and do an awkard hanging belay. Eric has no problems with the climbing and Marti finds a small ledge for him to hang out on while I lead the next pitch.

The third pitch is much easier but the ropes are totally tangled up and it takes Marti a while to get everything sorted out. She requests that I do a better job of rope management at the next belay! Fortunately, that belay is a big ledge and we can all stretch out a bit. Two easier pitches take us to an even larger ledge - Eric celebrates by doing the `cha-cha' for the camera. It's getting late - we're moving slow - not like the previous evening.

The next pitch is a nice 5.7 chimney leading to another hanging belay. I get wedged in the back of the chimney at the crux, clogged by my tennis shoes dangling from the back of my harness. Eventually I sort myself out and set the belay. Eric does a great job - he waltzes through the crux with no problem. Another easy pitch and we're on top. After the victory photos, we descend by a gully on the right. Marti is far more gripped seeing Eric walk the exposed ridge out to the gulley than about anything on the climb up! No problems on the descent. Alastair and Jay had hiked in to watch us but had left since we were not getting down in time for any more climbing.

That evening we crashed in a Motel 6 on the strip. Eric and I walked around the weirdness for a while but he was too tired to appreciate the bizarrity of it all. We stayed up late into the night trying to pack everything for the flight in the morning. Day 17: Between a late start and the worlds slowest agent at the checkin, I get to the gate 2 minutes before scheduled departure. Good thing they are running late! No problem returning our well-travelled Jeep. Fortunately they don't suspect what we've been doing with it for the last two weeks. Lal has guarded our Subaru well and picks us up in Newark (all praise to Lal!!). We roll back home totally wasted, as usual.

That's it - you can see Eric's view of the trip at http://haskell.org/jcp/eric.html - far shorter than mine!