Synchronicity with a Side of Alphabet Soup; Indian Creek; Utah

B Climbing B Climbing 2 B Saggy Tape Glove C climbing Iphone pics 11-26-12 218 C climbing

“Kaci , I’m headed to Indian Creek today.  Call me if you are close.” –Text from C

No way!  I am headed to Indian Creek today!  I haven’t spoken with C for a couple of months, yet here we are going to the same place on the same day.  I call C.  We briefly discuss logistics since there is no cell service in Indian Creek.

Indian Creek is a Mecca for crack climbers.  C & her partner, B, are avid rock climbers who love this area.  It is a lovely experience to watch either of them talk about Indian Creek.  Their stoke is wild, free and highly contagious.

After a short game of note passing on the message board at Bridger Jacks, the four of us connect.  E is with C & B.  I’ve never met E before.  She no longer lives in Estes Park, but her memory does.  I’ve heard several fondly told stories of her general coolness.  E does not disappoint.  After a few minutes, I easily fall into a quiet appreciation for her presence.   As we talk, E’s two dogs lean their warm bodies against my cold legs.

After we exchange hellos and hugs, we throw chairs, beers and a hatchet into the back of B’s truck.  We hop in and ride to their campsite a mile away.  When we arrive, C jumps out of the truck and wanders over to the fire pit.  She shreds dried juniper bark and starts the tiniest fire I have ever seen.  C patiently shreds bark and adds it to the fire.  Fifteen minutes later, we pile on logs and the fire roars to life.

Once coals have formed, E sports vice grips like Edward Scissorhands to make veggie stir-fry over the fire.  We have a homegrown happy hour and then J and I walk back to our camp.

In the morning, E heads to Estes Park and the rest of us go climbing.  B leads the way up a 5.11+.  He shrugs off the tape gloves most wear here and cruises up the route.  C helps me tape on J’s gloves and then zips up the route after B.  I’m next.  I’m not much of a climber.  I get 1/3 of the way up the route.  I come down panting and pumped.  J climbs up next, liebacking his way up the thinnest part of the crack.

We hang out at the crag for a few more hours.  At the end of the day, B and C have to head back to their newfound home in Durango.  We hug and wish each other well.

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