He, the language keeper, medicine man and sweat leader, stopped my daughter as she exited the sweat lodge. “Take this tobacco and hold it up to your heart.” Looking towards me, he said, “Your daughter has a heavy heart.” Understanding his words, a piece of me ripped in half. “Yes, it’s the school, two weeks away. She misses it...” The mother, the wanderer, the dreamer. On this short trip of elation made out of necessity for my own survival and wellbeing. A mere taste of what feels right; to heal the heaviness of my own heart. A trip to the desert; a fling with the sun. Back again. For …
Random Writings
Chipped Off
It was one of those projects which I am sure you can relate. The kind that keeps you up at night as you imagine and feel yourself doing the moves. If given the chance, you would drop everything to travel across the world just to have another try. For Randy Puro and a few others, that line was the low start to Lesson Six. Randy recently made the voyage from California to Squamish, specifically to revisit this old project of his. He mentioned that the holds felt different, larger even. He thought it might have been chipped. Later confirmed by locals, the work is obvious as seen in the photo. So …
Life in a Box
Imagine living your life in a box. You wouldn’t be able to move around nor see outside. It’d be dark, narrow, and confining. The need to escape would be shooting from every cell in your body. Tightly bound with lock and key, pushing to escape proves futile. Fresh air quickly diminishing while your eyes focus on the small slivers of light beaming in from the outside world. It feels suffocating. Restricting. Being put in a box has the same sort of effect. Classified, square, predictable. And diminishing in every aspect. Coming with a label, your very own name highlighted right above the boxes …
Our Trip in Prose
Afterwords... buried in unwashed clothes the desert reminds us of its existence with a cactus spike like a thorn in ones side poking painful reminders of my absence proving it wasn’t a dream Drying sage fills my van collected when busyness subsided; Sand witnessed between floor cracks dragged in from days out skin bronzed from living under our sun gifting an extra wrinkle Bishop basking warmth, tired muscles each cell tinglesgiving reason to be alive Footprints of our four legged creatures off trail destroying without knowing, unlike us a soiled tampon lays at …
Quality Lost
My favorite pants disappeared. Its odd, really. Incomprehensible. I don’t quite understand how or why, nor do I remember taking them off at some random place and walking away pant less. My van doors remain closed when I undress giving them no chance to fall out. Yet perhaps, they are high spirited and decided to run off on their own accord. Given I found them at a thrift store some years ago, this could even be their second escape. They weren’t just any pants, they were wool pants, 100% wool in fact. High waisted, they caused a snugness above my belly button which was an unusually feeling …
The Slow-mo Road to Recovery
Sometimes people call me Slow-mo. Though only certain people… The nickname comes from my speed of doing things. Slow-mo rhymes with Thomo so it is sort of funny. But only sort of. My pace can be frustratingly slow for not only some route climbers who I'd only describe as bright eyed and bushy tailed, but also for myself. When it comes to injuries and their accompanying lessons, I feel incredibly slow, or perhaps a better choice of word is stubborn. I like doing things at my own pace but sometimes, that isn’t an option. It has been over a year and a half now of working alongside an injury …
A Squamish Summer
When it finally came, it was one of those summers you didn’t want to end. The days were of the sort that reminded me of childhood; the sun felt strong and the days were so long it seemed the moon would never show itself. It felt as close to normal summer weather as we can get these days; it wasn’t over the top hot and almost daily, the wind blew strong, bringing with it psyched people who came to share the same obsession as myself. For the observer, it wasn’t hard to tell from the crowded parking lots and a quick glance up the Stawamus Chief, that climbing happened daily and lasted long …
Freegan Milk
Based on a true story. Its 2015. We are in Magic Wood, Switzerland. Conor is in Magic Wood too. That’s how we met. Maybe you know him? Conor Houlihan…? It kind of rhymes with hooligan. He was one of a kind. IS one of a kind... As far as I know, he’s alive and well; perhaps walking across Mexico or something of the sort. You see, Conor does those really long walks that cover whole countries sides; the kind that can take weeks, even months to finish. He travels with a back pack smaller than the one I take climbing which is really quite impressive. It doesn’t take long before meeting or …
A taste of Spring
She stood on the green grass about to approach a forest which loomed with spiders, ticks and little critters that had teeth sharper than her kitchen knife. Looking deeper, the light appeared to disappear into the shadows of a thick green foliage. On her back she carried a crash pad; a piece of equipment used for the type of climbing she preferred, bouldering. It used to be part of her everyday attire but it had lain dormant on the shelf of her workplace; thrown on top of the highest shelf in a large room housed with hundreds of odd multicolored plastic holds of various sizes and shapes. It …
Bishop Air
The drive south was blistery and full of detours. The thought that we were approaching the California border seemed unreal. The view from the driver’s seat was that of the opening galaxy scene of Star Wars. Coming straight towards us were thousands of tiny white spots encompassed in a sea of darkness. As a kid, when my dad drove through snowstorms, this same view would mesmerize me. I’d struggle to find focus among the movement of a thousand tiny speckles. As tempting as it was, it took a lot to not drift back into that realm; if my focus didn’t stay on the road I’d end in the ditch alongside …
1 year, 3 weeks & 5 days
As if under a spell, the idea of staying anchored in one place for the duration of an entire year, attached itself to me like a starved leech. It was an idea that wouldn’t budge or compromise; leaving a strong sense of obligation before even starting. That if I didn’t follow through, something dire would happen… That if I left the said vicinity, some horrid curse would be laid down… Maybe it is the slight OCD in me but I followed through. Through thick and thin, the spell, felt curse at times, swallowed and bound me to a land which I both loved and despised. Through two cold and snowy …
Adventuring into the Unknown
There is a confession wanting to come forth. Holding onto the idea of van dweller of 20 plus years, there is currently a slight untruth to that. Exploration has taken hold into areas taken for granted to most western people but with my own free will and desire, I became unfamiliar with. The confession isn’t large. It is merely that our dwelling situation has expanded. To be clear, it is not a mansion in which we reside though it certainly feels like one. The place is more of a small box; bigger than the comforts of my van, but lacking the freedom of wheels. There are no amenities like a …
Breakthroughs, Part 3
To save the eyes of any weary reader, this will be the last of my series on breakthroughs simply because after this event, there were no breakthroughs, only realizations. For now, I’ll tell you a little story about the competition which took place at the end of January, the BC Provincials. Headed into the crowded zone of qualifiers, my goal was to bring the state of mind needed to do my best: that of relaxation and focus. For the past few years of my competition journey, I knew this was necessary but wasn’t sure of the how, let alone my capability. But in the qualifying round of the …
Cowboys and cowgirls. Breakthroughs. Part Two.
There was a bus that bobbed along the city streets, like a bottle in the ocean. It was crowded and filled with people who seemed to be minding their own affairs. The guy next to me was watching an Instagram video of a young girl dressed in a bikini, blowing kisses to the viewer. Across, a darker woman sat with sad eyes, staring out the window to a distant world. Though like any other, the bus ride felt odd, foreign like. Not foreign as in people speaking different tongues, but foreign because I was sitting on this bus with only one piece of luggage and, no child by my side. I often hear of …
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Breakthroughs. Part One
January was like this… a whirlwind of excitement, adventure, nervousness, and apprehension; emotional turmoil twisted itself into moments of empowerment and disbelief. Eye opening realizations and instants of complete disappointment wrestled with my core beliefs. While ancient hardwiring aimed themselves down pathways of comfort, something followed; challenging and provoking another way, showing other possibilities. It’s like this; you need to do something different to make progress. Usually it is something simple; like relaxing or taking conscious breaths. Yet, when found in a …
Inquiries of a climber
I have an old friend; a fellow climber I’ve been recently reunited with after years apart simply because of the sheer land mass and great seas which divided us. We first meet at the Belfast climbing wall at the university where he studied physics and where I was a mere nomad; exploring the city streets and troubles, learning about photography in the lightest of darkrooms, and simply allowing the beautiful accents to fill my thirsty ears. Not yet a full-fledged climber, my spare time was spent dabbling. Climbing with all its lightness was new to me. Gustau and his beautiful family came to …
Adventures of the Dark Side
You know those moments in your life of such clarity that make you question how you made it as far as you did; those moments that make you feel as if you’ve been living with a sheet over your head. It’s not the sort of spiritual awakening which I refer but more the real, sharp, in your face kind of clarity that unfortunately is called… reality. Reality… we have met before. For reasons within my own nature I often let you pass and continue on my way. Nothing is going to prove me wrong, especially you. Nothing will stand in my way, especially you. In fact, I kind of hate you. Life is too short …
Insights of Coaching
In front of me sat eight little people who looked up at me with a combination of eagerness and shyness. It was a scene oddly familiar from years back, yet completely anew. Here I was, about to coach gymnastics for the first time in years. Part of the job title was to display the gymnastics circuit for the kids later to mimic which made me feel slightly queasy. Let’s make a couple things clear, this is recreational gymnastic which means easy but I was never specifically any good at gymnastics and it has been years. Despite starting at an age considered ‘too old’, it was my first love and if …
the insides of a mind
Terry McColl photoMy mind steps in offering words of facts and mediocrity which in no way convey what I want to say. The only thing I care to write about is the very thing which helped, yet it is that very thing which seems to have no words. It conveys an overall sense of complete emptiness yet completely void of any loneliness. Coupled with contentment and ease, it gave a glimpse of what was possible, offering a taste of what could be.It may seem like confusing talk, though to me it is quite clear though not concrete. The only way I would allow myself to go to the Toronto and Vail World Cup …
Puzzles in action
I like puzzles. Logic puzzles, crossword puzzles, 2000 piece jigsaw puzzles… But most especially, climbing puzzles… Bouldering has always intrigued and stimulated me because of the difficulties of solving these puzzles. It seems impossible, to promising, to doable. It’s like working on a physical puzzle between only you and the rock.Then there are competitions. They too are a puzzle. I find them interesting as well; to the point that I haven’t been on rock much because I want to get better at figuring out this puzzle. But it isn’t so much the physical side that confuses me. Nowadays I can read …