It's Sunday!

Rocktober Fest is still alive and well in Squamish. Just when I think bouldering can’t be any more fun, the rock gets stickier and you begin to wonder why you ever fell off that V3 back in August. ha ha. We climbed until sundown yesterday and it has never felt so good to feel so tired. The forecast is looking great through the week, so we all gotz our fingers crossed for more velcro days. Addiction to friction. The funny thing about Squamish is that there is so much rock here, I can’t even begin to keep up.

Today is a busy one, so I’m going to leave you with an article I wrote for patagonia recently. They have this great blog called “the cleanest line” it’s about everything and anything involving mountain and ocean culture, art, music, environmental issues, climbing, fishing, skiing and product development, or simply a fun trip report. I was asked to write something about the 24 Hours of Hell event in Arkansas and it was fun to do. If you feel up to a bit of reading this morning, check it out and until next time, have a wicked ass weekend…

“24 hours of what?” I cried into my cell phone.

“24 hours of HELL,” Kristo repeated.

“Well, okay then, sign me up.” He had answered my question and we left it at that.

Two months later, I still didn’t fully comprehend the meaning or significance of the event’s name. I thought it might have something to do with an early Halloween themed party and I could not have been further from the truth. I simply shrugged my shoulders and carried on with my day to day. About once a week, I’d get some informative e-mails from the event organizer Andy Chasteen, followed by a few witty replies from some of our team members at Patagonia. Kristo Torgersen was our ring leader, and besides being a climber/surfer, his job was to make sure we all had tickets to the place they call the Horseshoe Canyon Ranch in central Arkansas. It was his decision to sponsor the event and it was with great pleasure that the rest of us arrived to see what all this “HELL” talk was all about. I mean, for Pete’s sake, how bad could it be?

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