Motivação, Metas, e Confiança em Deus!
A motivação é um requisito essencial no caminho para a meta. Boa parte dos nossos resultados dependerá dela. A motivação está dentro de você. Olhe ao seu redor, veja o quanto Deus ja tem feito por você, e ele quer continuar fazendo. Isto é tudo o que você precisa para motivar-se.
Deus te equipou com tudo o que você precisa para alcançar as teus objetivos. Se os seus objetivos e sonhos forem claros, a motivação crescerá, o fará agir e se aproximar dos melhores resultados.
Se você é daqueles que aspiram a resultados fantásticos, não vai simplesmente esperar que as coisas aconteçam. Você vai buscar oportunidades e sabe que elas são astutas, entram pela porta dos fundos. Portanto, esteja motivado e preparado.
Sua dedicação e perseverança também te aproximam dos resultados. Pensar sai barato, não custa nada e você acaba compreendendo que o mais importante é essa “liberdade mental”.
Nada muda se a sua mente não mudar. Você nunca será livre se a sua mente e o seu espírito estiverem presos à carências, a pensamentos errados, à crenças infundadas, a histórias de fracassos e frustrações.
Você é fruto de suas escolhas. Sua motivação e suas metas serão a sua realidade. Não vai acertar o alvo se não puder vê-lo. Nunca irá realizar seus sonhos se não enxergá-lo.
Antes de conquistar um sonho, você precisa ter um forte desejo de vê-lo realizado, confiar que Deus pode levá-lo até lá, e deixar ele conduzir você até LÁ...
Pense nisso, um forte abraço e esteja com Deus!
Texto de Gilcler Regina, Adaptado por Maiquel Hellwig
a spoonful of bravery
Back-to-School Sundaes 2012 can be seen here.
tomorrow we send him out into the world.
in his pocket will be:
bravery
obedience
kindness
happiness
and all of our love.
today i found myself on my knees.
several times throughout the day.
a heavy day. a heavy heart.
my list of heartache is long.
+++
over lunch lucas said to me:
how does heavenly father see everybody?
i just can't believe it... isn't it just so awesome?
did you know that jesus blessed all those kids?
they didn't think that he would
but he said, yeah, come on over here.
the answer to my prayers, my boy.
am thinking: he's going to be just fine.
+++
tomorrow we send him out into the world.
in my pocket will be:
that entire jar of hot fudge.
grow with me
charlie grey : month ten
back in month two of baby charlie,
i found a brown paper package in my mailbox from my dear friend, susan.
a tiny pair of gray moccasins for for my teensy-tiny baby boy.
she'd made them herself.
the leather, so smooth. the fringe, oh my goodness. the gift, such a treasure.
+++
we're in the last few days of our gray baby moccs.
his little charlie feets can barely slip in anymore.
his toes are squished.
i've snuck them on all this week saying, just one more time...
+++
they'll go in his save box.
my secret collection.
so i can peek in on the quiet days.
reminders of the first few months of my charlie boy.
when his wisps of baby hair still held a hint of red.
and his grin - just one little tooth.
my oldest nephew just had his twelfth birthday.
and in a quick moment last sunday
his mother whispered to me, that happened so fast...
his mother whispered to me, that happened so fast...
+++
Don't know of any better birth preparation than yoga
The practice involves not just exercise but mindfulness as well, opening both your body and mind to what lies ahead. A study of 74 first-time mothers in Thailand found that those who did prenatal yoga experienced less pain and a shorter labour.
Estudo Bíblico com o Pastor Adilson Schünke
Na Terça Feira 20 de agosto de 2011, estivemos reunidos na congregação São Lucas jntamente com o Pastor Adilson Schünke, conversando sobre "A igreja em grupos", onde através do estudo apresentado pudemos ver a importância da igreja estar se reunindo em peqenos grupos, tanto para a comunhão entre os irmãos, quanto para a missão e o crescimento pessoal de cada um dos que se envolvem neste tipo de estudo em pequenos grupos.
Com certeza m momento especial, de onde vamoas guardar as palavras do Pr Adilson em nossa memória e em nosso coração, para que melhor possamos dedicar nossas vidas ao serviço do Senhor.
Whether you believed in his politics, or not...
This past Saturday (less than 48 hours before he died), Jack Layton penned a very moving two page letter to Canadians. The letter can be found here.
Politics aside here are a just a couple of excerpts:
“Unfortunately, my treatment has not worked out as I hoped,” he wrote. “So I am giving this letter to my partner Olivia to share with you in the circumstance in which I cannot continue.”
To other Canadians who are on journeys to defeat cancer and to live their lives, I say this: please don’t be discouraged that my own journey hasn’t gone as well as I had hoped. You must not lose your own hope. Treatments and therapies have never been better in the face of this disease. You have every reason to be optimistic, determined, and focused on the future. My only other advice is to cherish every moment with those you love at every stage of your journey, as I have done this summer.
My friends, love is better than anger. Hope is better than fear. Optimism is better than despair. So let us be loving, hopeful and optimistic. And we’ll change the world." -August 20 2011-Jack Layton 1950-2011
“In meditation, effort must be applied in a direction opposite to what we are used to. Our ‘effort’ must be to relax ever more deeply. We must ultimately release the tension from both our muscles and our thoughts. When we relax so deeply that we are able to internalize the energy of the senses, the mind becomes focused and a tremendous flow of energy is awakened. Meditation is a continuous process, and can be said to have three stages: relaxation, interiorization, and expansion.” – John Novak, Lessons in Meditation.
golden
make new friends
but keep the old
one is silver
the other gold.
+++
wishing i could go collecting.
+++
old friends and new friends.
old loves and true loves.
gather them up.
put them all in one place.
+++
wishing for just a minute -
to connect again with each path that's ever crossed with mine.
+++
wanting to pull in my kite strings.
every single one.
BORA
Stylist & Hair RAÚL REDONDO
Model ANA BORAO
Clothes from LAURA RUBIO
Special thanks to ISABEL ROMO and her tighs from Wolford
Chá Distrital de Servas LSLB-DIGRA
Ocorreu no dia 06 de agosto de 2011 em nossa congregação, o chá distrital de servas. Com grande alegria recebemos um grande numero de servas em nossa congregação, as quais tiveram agradáveis momentos de conversa, além de saborear um delicioso chá, acompanhando de bolos e salgados.iniciou-se o momento com um devocional baseado no Salmo 51, baseado no tema: "O amor de Deus nos conduz ao arrependimento" o qual foi dirigido pelo Pastor local, Maiquel Hellwig, que nos levou a refletir sobre nossas falhas e a necessidade de arrependimento que temos. O pastor também apresentou o trabalho que é realizado pela congregação São Lucas nas Comunidades Terapêuticas Recomeçar e Casa D'angelis, que atendem dependentes quimicos que estão em busca de recuperação. na sequencia da apresentação os residentes(pacientes) das comunidades terapêuticas que são atingidos pelo trabalho da congregação nos brindaram com hinos de louvor que são cantados juntamente com o pastor nos momentos de reflexão ocorridos dentro das Comunidades Terapêuticas.
Bomb Flow TV Episode #2 "Pacific Northwest"
Well once again I have been really slack at updating the blog.When I find sometime and all the pictures of our amazing cali trip,I will then try post one big update of all the amazing rivers we got to paddle there!!!-(Dinky Creek,Fantasy Falls,Upper Cherry-Gracelands slide)
The boys have been killing it with there Bomb Flow Edit,Episode #2 Pacific Northwest just drop a few days and I thought I would post it up on the blog as I feature in it and its so epic,enjoy!!!!
Well we are heading to BC canada for a shit running stout mission in the next few days,I will try keep you updated with the BC stoutness!!! PEACE
Here is my fall schedule and the time to register is now :)
You don't need to bring a thing, just yourself! And registering not only ensures that a class will run, but saves you $3 per class. This is affordable yoga! (just as it should be)
The Roundhouse Community Center
located at the corner of Davie @ Pacific across from the "Roundhouse" Canada Line Skytrain
Prenatal Yoga
Tues and/or Thurs evening from 545pm-715pm
Sept 6-Oct 25/Nov 1-Dec 20
Sept 8-Oct 27/Nov 3-Dec 22
Baby and Me Yoga
Thurs afternoon from 1230pm-2pm
Sept 8-Oct 27/Nov 3-Dec 22
Mixed levels Hatha (always with a little yin and vinyasa thrown in)
Tues evening from 730pm-9pm
Sept 6-Oct 25/Nov 1-Dec 20
**NEW**
Yoga for Limited Mobility
Thurs evening from 730pm-830pm
Sept 8-Oct 20/Oct 27/Dec 8
To register for my Roundhouse classes call 604-713-1800 or click here
Mount Pleasant Community Centre
located at #1 Kingsway @ 7th (corner of Main St and 7th Ave at Kingsway)
Daytime Hatha
Mon and/or Wed afternoon from 1230pm-2pm
Sept 12-Oct 31 (no class oct 10) / Nov 7-Dec 19
Prenatal Yoga
Wed evening from 630pm-745pm
Sept 14-Oct 26/Nov 2-Dec 21
Baby and Me Yoga
Mon morning/afternoon from 1045am-1215pm
Sept 12-Oct 31 (no class oct 10) / Nov 7-Dec 19
To register for classes at Mount Pleasant call 604-257-3080 or click here
*All classes/costs are prorated as well and it is much cheaper to register than to drop in at both places.*
a nest.
i'm busy making nests.
a get-ready-for-kindergarten one for lucas.
think: robot lunch box + orange shoe laces
a big boy one for gavin.
think: toddler bed and lot's of his favorite color.
green.
+++
when i made this little nest for charlie - i didn't know him yet.
didn't know his name. or that he'd have a magic hint of red fox in his baby hair.
i collected treasures for him and made him a little baby space next to my bed.
charlie grey: keeps growing.
we're going on ten months already, folks.
he's standing on his own.
nearly walking.
we've changed his bassinet to crib and moved it into the other room.
and he sleeps in it!
and now i'm ready to make him a new space.
there is some rearranging to be done.
some de-junking of the junk room.
some walls to be painted - i'm thinking the color of linen.
or oatmeal. thoughts?
+++
i love building little boy nests.
such a happy mama bird.
Colorado Love
I woke up in a casino parking lot. A dome light dangled above my head. The electric wires spun in and out of view. I was somewhere in Nevada in the back of a station wagon.
My red Saturn Station Wagon. My beat down, gear laden, Saturn Station Wagon.
I fell out of the back and into the driver’s seat. I drove towards the sun rise. Behind me was a Yosemite season of disappointment. The eastern sun rise promised something new, at least something different. I was skeptical tho.
“Now let me welcome everybody to the wild, wild west- A state that's untouchable like Elliot Ness.” Dr. Dre and Tupac rap in California Love. “Cali got gun play, models on the runway,”sings Notorious BIG in Going back to Cali. Snoop Dogg sings “I’m all up on ya- cause you’re representin California” in the pop hit California Girls. Who’s famous for singing about Colorado? John Denver. He strums a guitar and sings about a rocky mountain high. That is not gangster. California 1 Colorado 0. I drove east anyway.
I arrived in Rifle with the goal of getting stronger so I set an appropriate goal- clip the anchors of 100 pitches and send 20 of them. The steep limestone requires serious technique- drop your right knee, drop your left knee, now shit yourself cause you can’t move. My first 3 weeks there were awesome. I climbed well, flashing and onsighting a few easy 5.12s and then flashing a 12c. I got lots of mileage on the soapy limestone.
This is me flashing Cardinal Sin. This route is 12a but in the gym it would be 13c.
For the better part of two weeks, Hayden’s house in Carbondale was empty. Think parents gone. Think huge mansion. Think kegs, cocaine and a house full of raging party. I commuted from Hayden’s house to Rifle for a few days, while I met people camping out there and got used to the scene. Hayden had to handle the dozens of Carbondale hotties himself.
Hayden on Pump-A-Rama at the Arsenal
Supposedly Michael Kennedy, Hayden’s dad, is a good climber. He’s climbed a lot of rock routes across the world. He’s done some serious alpine climbing. He owned Climbing Magazine and now works as the editor for Alpinist. Supposedly he’s a bad ass. I don’t know about all that- what I do know is that Hayden’s dad can drink some scotch. Part of my reasoning behind making the big drive to Colorado was to meet some of the talking heads I’ve conversed with via the interweb but never met. Michael Kennedy exceeded my expectations. After a few glasses of scotch, MK was able to discuss the effects the internet had on print media using eight letter words. I could only nod and watch the room swim. Professional. Point Colorado.
Hayden and Julie Kennedy stretching it out after too much Scotch and wine
Dan Mirsky, Jen Vennon, Wendy Williams, Andrew Bisharat, and a dozen other Rifle climbers, all crush steep limestone on the western slope. They also all wear tank tops. From plain white Target style Man-tanks to surf inspired Volcom hipster sleeveless shirts, tank tops are the hippest piece of climbing apparel in the canyon. To fit into the scene at Rifle, I bought one at the Glenwood Springs Mall. The 16 year old girl at Pacific Sun told me the turquoise shirt with the navy piping looked best so I wore it to the crag the next day. The warm-ups felt easier. I crushed the first pitch of my project and headed into the extension. I felt strong in my tank. The freedom that my arms had seemed to make all the difference. Just a few feet from the anchor, I threw for a crimp, hit the hold and promptly flew off.
“FFFFUUUUCCCKKK!!” I screamed. My belayer yearded 20 feet off the ground to the first bolt. I finished the route and lowered. What had gone wrong? I looked good. I had my tank top. I had the appearance of a Rifle crusher.
“Nice farmer’s tan,” said one of the sport wankers at the Project Wall. Something snapped inside of me. That was the answer- that was the reason why I had fallen. I wasn’t tan. Not only did the Rifle climbers wear tanks but they also had tans. Despite climbing in the shade all day, the climbers managed to be tan. Coloradians tan in the shade. Point Colorado.
Jen Vennon's birthday party. Andrew and Jen were having dinner at this sushi place once when the sushi chef started belting out "Take my hand, we'll make it I swear Oh oh, livin' on a prayer Livin' on a prayer!" Apparently Bon Jovi was sitting right next to them at this Aspen restaurant. He was wearing a turtleneck. CRAZY!
My blog wouldn't be complete without a picture of Max- the scardest dog I've ever met.
The Austrailian kid came running over to the Wasteland. “Rednecks are stealing draws from the Arsenal,” he panted.
Kenny Barker ripped his Cookie Monster t-shirt off, exposing a sinewy 6 foot 3 inch frame, and transforming into a beast. He owns a pug named GusGus, coaches for a youth climbing team in Vail, but grew up in the South East. The redneck in Kenny emerged as he marched across the street with four other climbers to confront the family of thieves. The family of four was waddling in and out of limestone cave on the other side of the canyon. The father was fat and had a tripod. The 20 year old son was fat and had a face full of metal. The 10 year old son was fat and had a walking stick. The mom was fat and had a frump so big she probably hadn’t seen her vagina in a decade.
“Did you guys take a draw off a route?” Kenny asked politely. We stood behind him. We must have looked like a group of maneroxic body builders.
“I’m actually a Yosemite trad climber,” I thought, “I’ve battled the wide.” I folded my arms, pushing my fists into my biceps so they would look bigger.” If there was a brawl…
“I climbed up the route unclipped it, and then dropped the car-biner slingee. I don’t know what happened to it,” the thug son said.
“Why do you need those things up there anyway?” The fat dad’s jowls shook. “If you were real climbers, you would hang your own car-biners every time,” The redneck had a point.
He held up a keychain carabiner, “How much do those things cost? 1 or 2 bucks? What do you care anyway? They’re not your car-biners. Who cares if we’re taking someone else’s stuff- that’s none of your concern.”
The mom’s fat cheeks, her stomache, and her frump all bounced in time as she nodded in furious agreement.
“They’re part of the climbing community,” Kenny said diplomatically. “These are expensive pieces of equipment and we all use them for our own safety. When one is worn or goes missing, the climbing community replaces it. They’re expected to be there and essential to our safety. Do you really want someone to die?”
The family looked at Kenny and grimaced. Thoughts like these caused boig pains between their ears. They didn’t look happy with having to think so hard.
“Why don’t you ask your brother what happened to it? I looked- it’s not there anymore,” said the Aussie.
“You want some of this?” At the subtle accusation that the rednecks had stolen the draw, the 20 year old threw his arms in the air. The flab of his biceps swung around. “I’m from Denver.”
I had no clue where Denver was but from the looks of the fat ass it couldn’t be that tough. Things were heading to fisticuffs. Colorado was exciting after all.
“I’m just gonna be honest,” the ten year old boy squealed. He ran around the corner and returned with a $25 Petzl Quickdraw, the bottom fixed draw on Pump-A-Rama.
“Thanks a lot,” Kenny said. “Thanks for helping keep the climbing community safe and for your honesty.”
The father nodded. It was about safety after all. The young son looked at the ground.
The older one looked disappointed and pissed. He mumbled than spoke.
“Whatever,I don’t need these things,” he held up a keychain carabiner, trying to save face. “I free climb.” Point Redneck Freehander. I wish California had redneck freehanders like that.
Jed got to ride a Segway at one of his office parties for the bank he works at in Rifle. Jed's a classic Rifle character. Just check out that wolf shirt.
I’ve met Lynn Hill a few times. In Hueco. In Yosemite. This time in Rifle. Every time she asks me what my name is. I say, “James.” There’s a pause while I wait for her to say, ”I’m Lynn.” She never does and it makes me mad. Who doesn’t introduce themselves? A few years ago, her son was at the crag and threw a rock through a climbers’ window. Lynn got the guy compensation for the window and then wrote him an apology note. In with the note, Lynn added an autographed photo of herself sending the Nose on El Capitan. “Hey, so sorry my kid broke your window. Here’s a picture of me climbing harder than you ever will.” Point California for having people who keep it more real than people who live in Colorado.
The normal junk show at the Project Wall
“Are those Oreos?” My mouth watered slightly. It’d been days since I had a cookie. The backlight of the Rifle Campground fire made the tasty little treats glisten a little. I wanted one or two or eighteen.
“Actually, they’re organic Belgian chocolate crackers with a Peruvian vanilla bean filling. They’re fair trade,” she responded.
My hand shot out and stole a cookie. “Are you from Boulder?” I asked as crumbs fell out of my mouth.
“OMG! How’d you guess?” She said nearly laughing her $300 LuLuLemon Yoga Pants off.
“Like everyone in the world is from Rifle,” she said with the conviction of a religious zealot.
Danny laughed at her. He was from Atlanta.His girlfriend was from Delaware. I was from California. No one around the campfire except the girl from Boulder was from Colorado. The Austrailian kid and his Canadian girlfriend weren’t even from the States. No point for Colorado on that one. Actually Colorado loses a point.
Hanging at the Arsenal- Photo by Lukas Hill
Laos. Vietnam never felt this muggy. Sweat pours down my body. It’d be better if it was raining on the Project Wall. It would be less humid. The conditions suck. I shouldn’t care but I do. Instead of not getting attached to anything in Rifle, I started projecting. Bad Idea. I one hung 3 different 12ds in the same day and couldn’t manage to send any of them. I’m starting to wobble. I decide to take my fitness to the next level.
Rifle attracts all sorts of weirdos
At the end of the month, I was ready. Honed. Conditioned. I went into the comp with high expectations. There would be a cash prize. If I won the contest, the award would pay for my entire month of climbing. I’d done some prepping with Kenny Barker the week before.
The 40th annual Mountain Fair Festival in Carbondale attracted hoards of hippies, carnies who set up booths to hawk glass vases, do angel readings and make a few bucks from fat locals. I stopped by the pie baking booth as early as I could on Saturday morning. “You’re fruit number 1,” the official told me when I dropped off my lattice butter crust organic Granny Smith apple pie. I knew the competition would be stiff. The Olympic Sprinters of pie baking come out to the Mountain Fair festival for the contest. Over a dozen contestants enter into each of the three categories- fruit, crème and exotic. This year was no different.
Some of the other contestants at the bake off
“Randy has no sense of direction. He can’t find anything and has no clue what’s going on around him. Oof!” That’s when Beth ran into three people walking the other way at the summer fair. Andrew, Randy Puro, Beth and I cruised through the fair, scoping out the scene and stopping by to see Jen Vennon;’s origami earring booth (which was rad)
My bad ass pie
With a couple of cherry pies made with Kenny in Aspen under my belt, and a slew of other pies this year in Bishop, I knew I stood a fair chance. I spent 4 hours baking at Andrew’s house. Sunday morning was a great big disappointment to me. Carbondale resident Judy Harvey destroyed the competition, winning the fruit section with a marian berry, raspberry, blackberry pie. She also placed third in exotic. She’s won over 20 ribbons in the past few years for her baking expertise. Sandbagging locals. Point Colorado.
This is the part where I talk a little bit more about climbing. I do climb a lot. Blah blah blah fall fall fall send send send. It’s just about all the same but this time I went somewhere new. I’ll wrap things up now.
Put yourself out there. Try something new. Fail. Fail. Succeed. Grow as a person. It’s not easy but it’ll make you a better person and a better climber. Being willing to push yourself is a requirement of success. I don’t know how many points Colorado had in the end. I can’t count to twenty with my shoes on. I do know that I went out there, tried something new, failed, succeeded, grew, and mostly importantly had a good time with lots of great people. My trip to Rifle was fun, the way climbing trips should be.
My red Saturn Station Wagon. My beat down, gear laden, Saturn Station Wagon.
I fell out of the back and into the driver’s seat. I drove towards the sun rise. Behind me was a Yosemite season of disappointment. The eastern sun rise promised something new, at least something different. I was skeptical tho.
“Now let me welcome everybody to the wild, wild west- A state that's untouchable like Elliot Ness.” Dr. Dre and Tupac rap in California Love. “Cali got gun play, models on the runway,”sings Notorious BIG in Going back to Cali. Snoop Dogg sings “I’m all up on ya- cause you’re representin California” in the pop hit California Girls. Who’s famous for singing about Colorado? John Denver. He strums a guitar and sings about a rocky mountain high. That is not gangster. California 1 Colorado 0. I drove east anyway.
I arrived in Rifle with the goal of getting stronger so I set an appropriate goal- clip the anchors of 100 pitches and send 20 of them. The steep limestone requires serious technique- drop your right knee, drop your left knee, now shit yourself cause you can’t move. My first 3 weeks there were awesome. I climbed well, flashing and onsighting a few easy 5.12s and then flashing a 12c. I got lots of mileage on the soapy limestone.
This is me flashing Cardinal Sin. This route is 12a but in the gym it would be 13c.
For the better part of two weeks, Hayden’s house in Carbondale was empty. Think parents gone. Think huge mansion. Think kegs, cocaine and a house full of raging party. I commuted from Hayden’s house to Rifle for a few days, while I met people camping out there and got used to the scene. Hayden had to handle the dozens of Carbondale hotties himself.
Hayden on Pump-A-Rama at the Arsenal
Supposedly Michael Kennedy, Hayden’s dad, is a good climber. He’s climbed a lot of rock routes across the world. He’s done some serious alpine climbing. He owned Climbing Magazine and now works as the editor for Alpinist. Supposedly he’s a bad ass. I don’t know about all that- what I do know is that Hayden’s dad can drink some scotch. Part of my reasoning behind making the big drive to Colorado was to meet some of the talking heads I’ve conversed with via the interweb but never met. Michael Kennedy exceeded my expectations. After a few glasses of scotch, MK was able to discuss the effects the internet had on print media using eight letter words. I could only nod and watch the room swim. Professional. Point Colorado.
Hayden and Julie Kennedy stretching it out after too much Scotch and wine
Dan Mirsky, Jen Vennon, Wendy Williams, Andrew Bisharat, and a dozen other Rifle climbers, all crush steep limestone on the western slope. They also all wear tank tops. From plain white Target style Man-tanks to surf inspired Volcom hipster sleeveless shirts, tank tops are the hippest piece of climbing apparel in the canyon. To fit into the scene at Rifle, I bought one at the Glenwood Springs Mall. The 16 year old girl at Pacific Sun told me the turquoise shirt with the navy piping looked best so I wore it to the crag the next day. The warm-ups felt easier. I crushed the first pitch of my project and headed into the extension. I felt strong in my tank. The freedom that my arms had seemed to make all the difference. Just a few feet from the anchor, I threw for a crimp, hit the hold and promptly flew off.
“FFFFUUUUCCCKKK!!” I screamed. My belayer yearded 20 feet off the ground to the first bolt. I finished the route and lowered. What had gone wrong? I looked good. I had my tank top. I had the appearance of a Rifle crusher.
“Nice farmer’s tan,” said one of the sport wankers at the Project Wall. Something snapped inside of me. That was the answer- that was the reason why I had fallen. I wasn’t tan. Not only did the Rifle climbers wear tanks but they also had tans. Despite climbing in the shade all day, the climbers managed to be tan. Coloradians tan in the shade. Point Colorado.
Jen Vennon's birthday party. Andrew and Jen were having dinner at this sushi place once when the sushi chef started belting out "Take my hand, we'll make it I swear Oh oh, livin' on a prayer Livin' on a prayer!" Apparently Bon Jovi was sitting right next to them at this Aspen restaurant. He was wearing a turtleneck. CRAZY!
My blog wouldn't be complete without a picture of Max- the scardest dog I've ever met.
The Austrailian kid came running over to the Wasteland. “Rednecks are stealing draws from the Arsenal,” he panted.
Kenny Barker ripped his Cookie Monster t-shirt off, exposing a sinewy 6 foot 3 inch frame, and transforming into a beast. He owns a pug named GusGus, coaches for a youth climbing team in Vail, but grew up in the South East. The redneck in Kenny emerged as he marched across the street with four other climbers to confront the family of thieves. The family of four was waddling in and out of limestone cave on the other side of the canyon. The father was fat and had a tripod. The 20 year old son was fat and had a face full of metal. The 10 year old son was fat and had a walking stick. The mom was fat and had a frump so big she probably hadn’t seen her vagina in a decade.
“Did you guys take a draw off a route?” Kenny asked politely. We stood behind him. We must have looked like a group of maneroxic body builders.
“I’m actually a Yosemite trad climber,” I thought, “I’ve battled the wide.” I folded my arms, pushing my fists into my biceps so they would look bigger.” If there was a brawl…
“I climbed up the route unclipped it, and then dropped the car-biner slingee. I don’t know what happened to it,” the thug son said.
“Why do you need those things up there anyway?” The fat dad’s jowls shook. “If you were real climbers, you would hang your own car-biners every time,” The redneck had a point.
He held up a keychain carabiner, “How much do those things cost? 1 or 2 bucks? What do you care anyway? They’re not your car-biners. Who cares if we’re taking someone else’s stuff- that’s none of your concern.”
The mom’s fat cheeks, her stomache, and her frump all bounced in time as she nodded in furious agreement.
“They’re part of the climbing community,” Kenny said diplomatically. “These are expensive pieces of equipment and we all use them for our own safety. When one is worn or goes missing, the climbing community replaces it. They’re expected to be there and essential to our safety. Do you really want someone to die?”
The family looked at Kenny and grimaced. Thoughts like these caused boig pains between their ears. They didn’t look happy with having to think so hard.
“Why don’t you ask your brother what happened to it? I looked- it’s not there anymore,” said the Aussie.
“You want some of this?” At the subtle accusation that the rednecks had stolen the draw, the 20 year old threw his arms in the air. The flab of his biceps swung around. “I’m from Denver.”
I had no clue where Denver was but from the looks of the fat ass it couldn’t be that tough. Things were heading to fisticuffs. Colorado was exciting after all.
“I’m just gonna be honest,” the ten year old boy squealed. He ran around the corner and returned with a $25 Petzl Quickdraw, the bottom fixed draw on Pump-A-Rama.
“Thanks a lot,” Kenny said. “Thanks for helping keep the climbing community safe and for your honesty.”
The father nodded. It was about safety after all. The young son looked at the ground.
The older one looked disappointed and pissed. He mumbled than spoke.
“Whatever,I don’t need these things,” he held up a keychain carabiner, trying to save face. “I free climb.” Point Redneck Freehander. I wish California had redneck freehanders like that.
Jed got to ride a Segway at one of his office parties for the bank he works at in Rifle. Jed's a classic Rifle character. Just check out that wolf shirt.
I’ve met Lynn Hill a few times. In Hueco. In Yosemite. This time in Rifle. Every time she asks me what my name is. I say, “James.” There’s a pause while I wait for her to say, ”I’m Lynn.” She never does and it makes me mad. Who doesn’t introduce themselves? A few years ago, her son was at the crag and threw a rock through a climbers’ window. Lynn got the guy compensation for the window and then wrote him an apology note. In with the note, Lynn added an autographed photo of herself sending the Nose on El Capitan. “Hey, so sorry my kid broke your window. Here’s a picture of me climbing harder than you ever will.” Point California for having people who keep it more real than people who live in Colorado.
The normal junk show at the Project Wall
“Are those Oreos?” My mouth watered slightly. It’d been days since I had a cookie. The backlight of the Rifle Campground fire made the tasty little treats glisten a little. I wanted one or two or eighteen.
“Actually, they’re organic Belgian chocolate crackers with a Peruvian vanilla bean filling. They’re fair trade,” she responded.
My hand shot out and stole a cookie. “Are you from Boulder?” I asked as crumbs fell out of my mouth.
“OMG! How’d you guess?” She said nearly laughing her $300 LuLuLemon Yoga Pants off.
“Like everyone in the world is from Rifle,” she said with the conviction of a religious zealot.
Danny laughed at her. He was from Atlanta.His girlfriend was from Delaware. I was from California. No one around the campfire except the girl from Boulder was from Colorado. The Austrailian kid and his Canadian girlfriend weren’t even from the States. No point for Colorado on that one. Actually Colorado loses a point.
Hanging at the Arsenal- Photo by Lukas Hill
Laos. Vietnam never felt this muggy. Sweat pours down my body. It’d be better if it was raining on the Project Wall. It would be less humid. The conditions suck. I shouldn’t care but I do. Instead of not getting attached to anything in Rifle, I started projecting. Bad Idea. I one hung 3 different 12ds in the same day and couldn’t manage to send any of them. I’m starting to wobble. I decide to take my fitness to the next level.
Rifle attracts all sorts of weirdos
At the end of the month, I was ready. Honed. Conditioned. I went into the comp with high expectations. There would be a cash prize. If I won the contest, the award would pay for my entire month of climbing. I’d done some prepping with Kenny Barker the week before.
The 40th annual Mountain Fair Festival in Carbondale attracted hoards of hippies, carnies who set up booths to hawk glass vases, do angel readings and make a few bucks from fat locals. I stopped by the pie baking booth as early as I could on Saturday morning. “You’re fruit number 1,” the official told me when I dropped off my lattice butter crust organic Granny Smith apple pie. I knew the competition would be stiff. The Olympic Sprinters of pie baking come out to the Mountain Fair festival for the contest. Over a dozen contestants enter into each of the three categories- fruit, crème and exotic. This year was no different.
Some of the other contestants at the bake off
“Randy has no sense of direction. He can’t find anything and has no clue what’s going on around him. Oof!” That’s when Beth ran into three people walking the other way at the summer fair. Andrew, Randy Puro, Beth and I cruised through the fair, scoping out the scene and stopping by to see Jen Vennon;’s origami earring booth (which was rad)
My bad ass pie
With a couple of cherry pies made with Kenny in Aspen under my belt, and a slew of other pies this year in Bishop, I knew I stood a fair chance. I spent 4 hours baking at Andrew’s house. Sunday morning was a great big disappointment to me. Carbondale resident Judy Harvey destroyed the competition, winning the fruit section with a marian berry, raspberry, blackberry pie. She also placed third in exotic. She’s won over 20 ribbons in the past few years for her baking expertise. Sandbagging locals. Point Colorado.
This is the part where I talk a little bit more about climbing. I do climb a lot. Blah blah blah fall fall fall send send send. It’s just about all the same but this time I went somewhere new. I’ll wrap things up now.
Put yourself out there. Try something new. Fail. Fail. Succeed. Grow as a person. It’s not easy but it’ll make you a better person and a better climber. Being willing to push yourself is a requirement of success. I don’t know how many points Colorado had in the end. I can’t count to twenty with my shoes on. I do know that I went out there, tried something new, failed, succeeded, grew, and mostly importantly had a good time with lots of great people. My trip to Rifle was fun, the way climbing trips should be.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)