Heroes of the Vertical

Getting to interview some all time heroes in the climbing world for this Climbing Mag feature  was certainly one of the highlights of my life! 

All the interviews held surprises: My conversations (and later getting to do a photo shoot at Owens) with the late John Bachar surprised me - just standing with him, his incredibly relaxed but paradoxically intensely focused demeanor was unique and powerful; Johnny Copp for his very deep, mystical musings; Steph Davis for her very thoughtful and thought-provoking responses; Lynn Hill for calling me out on my interview questions saying, "I don't like to think in absolutes..." Kennan for his ability to blend his passions for photography, family and verticality. Lauren and Paul for sharing their love of the lifestyle... 

Most of us know these people from photos, a few seconds of sound bites in a video, a memoir written in tandem with another author... To have a back and forth, as limited as it was, but on deeper topics offered a dimensionality and depth which helped me to understand some of the commonalities about what makes us human and what makes some of us a little bit more successful... 

Unfortunately, these too are are just soundbites, snippets to offer a glimpse. The original interviews were of course thousands of words longer... 

Tom Frost should have been included in this project. Thankfully I got a chance to interview him a year later. Click here to read Tom Frost prespective - Tom, without a doubt, is one of the most amazing human beings I have had the good fortune to spend a bit of time with. We talked and I shot a few pics of him as he made a set of Frost Sentinel Nuts in his garage. From being one of the first photographers to lug a camera up El Cap, to hearing his philosophy, stories and perspectives about life and the climbing life, the magical moments with Tom I will never forget.

You all continue to be incredible inspirations- thank you.

Weather the Storms...

Fall leaves in cyclonic spins rustle through the storied concrete cave, chasing strays and stray thoughts...
Anchored, while watching jets arc from the tarmac beyond - as if shot from some massive, modern Mongolian longbow. Cutting through the leading edge of black storms, the endless wet of dark waves crashing through my afternoons and evenings. A hundred giant arrows launched ceaselessly into the calling void, imagining they safely deliver my thoughts to distant realities.

Maybe a tiny piece of me with each one, to one day be gathered up again as I explore those obscured latitudes so impossibly far away... My life moves in a fractured perambulation suggesting something sacred slipped. A ghost in my own reality as my mind constantly flies past this constant crushing of steel and stormy sky.

A tight rope, a slacked line, a thread well frayed and blowing in the ceaseless wind... Those few hours recapture the light, the warmth, the fading glow... Seeking to braid the fray, numb fingers chasing the numb mind, remembering solid knots to sustain a mobile, fluid anchor far beyond this prison of reflected light...

Ninkrossi Cyclocross...

All images and text ©Bennett Barthelemy

Something to be said for serendipity and timing... Scanned the internet yesterday for local events and found that Washougal's 3M Park was hosting the Ninkrossi Cyclocross event... Men and women elite raced together...

The love of competition? The love of physical pain?

Dedication to a sport took on a whole new meaning for me yesterday in the rain and mud while watching these athletes spin for an hour. Cowbells and cheers from what sadly seemed like only a handful of spectators... Family members and those who had already ridden there event or were yet to ride seemed to make up the bulk of the crowd...

Super fun to shoot... psyched to go back.

Carl Decker was only one that never seemed to be tired and won for the men.

Beyond the Southeast Corner

My recent rediscovery of Beacon Rock, beyond the Southeast Corner, seems destined to be short lived with the rain finally making its way back. Discovered some steep and techy pure trad lines fulfilling the requisite needs for exposure, adrenaline, adventure jungleneering with scenery quotient satisfied. Jills Thrill, Fear of Flying, Dod's, Dastardly etc... Last year I had a slow start but managed an intriguingly mossy, runout and  quite loose adventure route via the original 1901 romp which includes looping railroad spikes from the 1901 FA. The history was its selling point but it is not something I would choose to do again. Call me spoiled but also found the Southeast Corner and save a few moves of Warrior was quite underwhelmed in terms of quality.

Last year in the blazing summer heat I also slithered my way up Windsurfer, perhaps the best pitch there so assumed there would be a few more gems lurking. If it weren't for the fees to park, the near 9 months of rain and the hour plus drive, falcon closures, the endless trains blasting past it would be a much easier destination. Bugling elk on the island offshore (thanks Kenny for clueing me in that Elk are such able swimmers) and kiteboarders wheeling around the windswept surf and dodging barges is pretty neat when you get  up high enough. When I feel charged enough to tackle the slicked-out 11s I am sure I will enjoy the place even more.

Kenneth Allen follows Dod's...

Beacon does have a unique charm... Lots of sketchy pitons, techy slick climbing and tricky gear while negotiating loose rock and grass hummocks mantles and grades that seem like they were pulled out of a hat... The positioning is stunning and the staunch stalwart crew of disciples it has bred over the years is also quite remarkable... Check out the new and improved and recenyly ramped up Beacon Rock Climbing Association... I hope to make it out for the next trail day...

Escape Velocity

All images and text ©Bennett Barthelemy

“Every year I pick fruit in California, Oregon, Washington and Montana.” That’s a big migration. “No its not. Not compared to the world.”

I remember hearing that it required speeds of 17,000 miles per hour, or roughly 2.5 miles traveled in a single second, to escape Earth’s gravity and make it into space. There are times when I feel so heavily anchored it feels it would take twice that inertia to make it beyond incorporated space and into wilderness. Staring at the clock, looking through a pane of sun-reflected glass and trying to avoid wishing I was somewhere else. It takes work to enjoy the moment no matter how fractured and disassociated I may feel from the vertical, from the unpaved sources of inspiration, the uncluttered and unspoiled vistas where sweat and sights are savored.

Ultimately, there is the yin and the yang of it all -  the realization that you must have the dark to appreciate the light. The hours of “the bread and butter work” as Carl Sanderg described it, help provide a solid juxtaposition to better appreciate the seemingly ever-truncated flights of fancy back into wonder, the creative, the inspiring, the sustaining… Ultimately one begets the other…

The trick, as the Dalia Lama proposes, is to find completion, contentment, in any task or reality that you inhabit. The $8.80 an hour job that keeps you in poverty and just barely fed, engaging an environment where physicality rules and there is no room for individual expression or creativity… How do we find sustenance, the kind that feeds and inspires the soul, in the day to day with few hours here and there to resurface and breath the air that keeps us dreaming?

Wisdom, inspiration, kindness  - can come from unlikely sources and in the most unlikely of places… Making the everyday, the mundane – magical again. Finding the ever-elusive escape velocity to realize that flight of fancy, whether it is through a serendipitous moment or a roadtrip, a calculated afternoon allocating several hours to the whimsy of adventurous possibility with an open eye and heart - traipsing through the sacred geography of the vertical or the unexplored corners of the extended backyard – This for me is the joie de vivre, the wanderlust of the spirit calling, the call that must always be answered, that expands both internal and external horizons.

It requires a smile, a laugh, an openness to engage a landscape or an individual, let the armor down for a moment and feel, relate, empathize - allow perspective to penetrate the way the light from a forest fire tinged sunset changes the usual textures and colors at dusk. Reality must be challenged, shaken up to be expanded, better appreciated, made special. It requires effort, stamina…

“Every year I pick fruit in California, Oregon, Washington and Montana.” That’s a big migration. “No its not, not compared to the world.”

“Come back and next time I will tell you the story about this hat. Its my grandfather's, he was buried with it.”