Out with Joe...

Out with Joe…  by Scott A. Lewis

Went and did Chimney Rock with Joe Lind last Friday, tough young guy. Wants to climb everything in sight. Oh, to be young again; I can finally say that. But I am still young, when I'm out there...I want to climb everything in sight as well. It's just that I can't, or so it seems. I wonder if my climbing partners feel the same pains as I? Do their lungs ache? Do their limbs, joints, and muscles refuse at times to even function properly? Yet I push on; we push on, because they surely feel it; the pain, physical and mental. Surely they deal with the wonder of even reaching the objective, part of what it's all about. They must contemplate the unknown about the ascent, the descent, the vagrancies of the weather, the condition of the rock, snow, or ice. And the bears, always the bears.

     
 So we do it together, out of need; we become partners. Striving, or so it would seem, toward that big adventure. The Big Trip. According to Patrick McManus, "... a Big Trip is defined by its hardships." McManus goes on to say, "The basic formula for creating hardships is to take no non-essentials and only a few of the essentials." Huh?!... has my desire to suffer been preceded by another? Yes. Greater men before me have striven to suffer, and mightily I might add. Since the beginning of time men, and women, have crossed oceans, explored continents, wandering the realms of the unknown. Yes fearless, and fearful men have fought wars, each other, animals, always striving to cheat death, are we not? But don't we all have to...do something? Oh, that urge to go. What simple yet complex urges and desires drive us on; to test ourselves. But, to understand the suffering, one must partake of the pain.

     
 So I'm out with Joe. He and I go back a ways; 1987 I believe. He worked with Steve York at Mountain Outfitters down on Sherman Ave in Coeur d' Alene. We met at Posty (Q'emiln Park), started climbing together. Have managed over the years to get out on a few adventures, actually summit a couple things. Bergman-Miller was a memorable outing. Huddleson's Bluff on the S. fork of the Clearwater river was edifying. One of the most memorable was our "attempt" of Silver Dollar Pk. about '93 or '94. I say attempt because we failed to even find the mountain in the fog.

     


 But don't go out with Joe unless you're willing to suffer. One time he was jonesing for ice; I think it was around mid-July. I convinced him we should wait until the temperature dropped a bit. Mid-November, at the earliest possible moment, I got dragged out to climb the 400’ Rainbow Falls over by Plains, Montana. At the base of the route I was skeptical of the lack of ice. Luckily, the temps had dropped enough to freeze what little moisture that was draining from above. The climbing was delicate and required precision. The protection was, at times, less than adequate. Hours later as we rappelled down the route, in the dark, I felt such a sense of accomplishment... and admiration for Joe. He has become a good climber, a smart and sensible climber. A true Northwest mountaineer. An alpinist in the classic sense...but so much more. Bringing a modern attitude to the fray, he's capable of harder and more intense suffering. Yes, Joe is willing to partake in the pain, it just that he seems to enjoy it so much.

      So I'm out with Joe. Have we become all we wanted? Is it doing it for us? Can we ever track down that animal, come to some sort of agreement with it? Joe trots on up ahead; well, he usually does. Having been out lately with a few older guys, this time he sets his paceometer on "older guy" and shuffles along the trail, pausing now and again to point out various peaks and landmarks...kneeling down at times to "tie" his shoe for the 40th time. I see what he's up to and will have none of it, and go storming past him. Young punk. Why, I've been hiking these trails...well, let's see now...almost 35 years. Been out here in the sun and snow, rain and fog; lots of fog. The 'Kirks, like any decent mountain range, generate their own weather. Sun will be shining all over the rest of the earth and the Crest is roiling in a windy moss of grey. I've sat for a long time, wanting a photograph, waiting for Chimney Rock to clear, white fragments of torn cotton endlessly rending from its form... I got cold first. Ah, the weather. I've read that if the weather never changed, 9 out of 10 people couldn't start a conversation. I catch up with Joe on the Roothaan Ridge... "tying" his shoe.

We discuss our situation. Weather looks like it'll hold, but don't hold your breath. We're both feeling ok...well, I'm ok, Joe's just great. Smile on his face, barely breathing. Wants to climb something hard. I knew it. All morning long I've heard him hinting at this. I on the other hand, really just want to take it easy. Y'know, I've never climbed the classic route up Chimney, the original 5.3, the walk-up. We go back and forth as we descend into the basin below the West face. We're not committed to a West face route, mind you, though there are some very difficult and scary routes on that side. No, we can still rap down to below the awesome East face where Joe will commence to scaring the very poo-poo out of me. And how about some of the hard routes just on the other side of the Prow? Very accessible from here. He's gonna make me beg, isn't he? Joe is so fit he can climb anything, or try anything. He has no limits yet, still on his way up. I on the other hand, have not only peaked, but have slipped and fallen off the other side, dropping at an alarming rate. I haven't hit bottom yet, but it's only a matter of time.

     
 In the end he gives in. We did have a look at some route graded 5.11b, (looked alright to me, I told him; heck, I can belay up to .14c!) I think the weather or time became a factor and we decided to zip up the standard route. I don't even know why I ro sham bo with Joe anymore, he always wins. And since he's got the mega long cord, I get to lead about 10 whole feet of the last pitch. We enjoy the views from a windy summit and rap practically to the ground with Joe's rope. I'm surprised it didn't come on a spool or something!

Written July ‘02

Wallace, Id.

Quotations from Patrick McManus’,The Big Trip