Finding the noses in Yosemite - USA

The nose of El Capitan stands tall; dominating Yosemite Valley. One day we were hiking around and a couple who had got to within 100 metres of the nose asked us if there was anything more to see? Should we go any further they asked? We've already walked 6 miles!

Well, what did they expect?! A circus? The granite rock to dance? the nose to start sniffing them up? Why wasn't admiring El Cap enough? Why was an extra hundred metres so tough? This is El Cap, I though?! EL CAP in all its majesty! Why didn't they want to stand right underneath it, to tilt their heads back and breath in its enormity, to wonder at its history revealed in its colourful layers, to hear the trees repecting it with each brush of their leaves, to touch the cool refreshing granite and to smell the "nose" right back.... or even just get a closer look at the sexy climbers ;)

Soaking up a place and being generous with your time I think is the only way to appreciate it. To sit in Yosemite Valley and watch a bluejay cock his proud head. To wait for a squirrel to cheekily jump on your table. To stare at the changing colours of half dome until your eyes glaze over. To discover each of the hidden noses in El Cap... So we spent an amazing time in Yosemite, and after two weeks had already decided we would come back for more.

We were having a rest day, and preparing for the big east buttress of El Cap by doing a few climbs along the base of the nose. Our climbing was in top form. We had done the Middle Cathedral the previous day, which had perfect views across the whole of El Cap. We were truly tempted by the nose, but spending nights on the wall would have to wait for another time, we had come to free climb.

But how quickly your future can change; how suddenly plans need to be rethought and remade! One small mistake; one tiny distraction can cause a lot of pain, a lot of frustration. After climbing Little John Left, as I was lowering Nic down after he removed the last piece of gear, the rope flew through my hands and belay, and I watched the love of my life start to fall, and keep falling (7 metres in all), folding over and onto his side, and lying in agony on the ground.

How strange that people come into our lives at points when we need them. Max and Mayan. Not only brilliant climbers, but also brilliant people. At the scene they straight away started putting things back together; Nic's broken back, my broken ego. So this is only Part I of Something Vertical. Now Nic can walk with a back brace, he'll be swimming soon and will climbg again, and one day we will climb big walls together, all the way to the top of El Cap.

Smith Rock - USA

The name is so mundane ... millions of people are called it, probably thousands of places too; but there is only one Smith Rock. it can be found in Oregon USA, and it certainly stands out after driving through endless desert roads. there are a few stories about why the rock was called Smith. The trust itself of course is as boring as any old Smith, but the legend is interesting, and speaks of a man called Smith who was trying to escape from some Indians, so climbed to the top of one of the pinnacles then threw himself off....

Anyway, whatever the reason behind its naming, Smith Rock made its international name in the 70s when it became the first destination in the US for sports climbing. As bolting was a new and challenging, there are some rather interesting lines. Some frustratingly head up beside perfect cracks, and others have the first bolt so high on the route that even a stick clip wont reach. You need to do a highball boulder problem just to get there! ( I later learnt that these high first bolts were due to the erosion of the soil, and weren't just a ballsy test for future climbers).

Smith rock is renown for its knobby holds. Most of the rock is of a stuff called "tuff" which is as tough as sandstone on your fingers, but not as tuff as granite to hold, so often hard to trust. None of th eknobs came off for us, but the guidebook warned us... even holds that have been used for 10 years have suddenly come off under people's feet.

Each year Smith has a little festival where representatives from each of the climbing companies come and set up their stalls. Its fun and they set up some bouldering walls, slack lines, and leave around hoola hoops, and diablos for you to play with. They even let you try out climbing shoes for a day on the real rock if you want! And you can get free stickers and buy cute shirts that say things like "climb like a girl" ..... I've got one :)

The drive thru and the cup holder - North America

You can drive through to buy anything in North America... drive through to get a coffee in the morning, drive through to get a burger at lunch, drive through to get a pizza for dinner, drive through to get an icecream for dessert, drive through to watch a movie, drive through to get your cash, drive through to get your beer. You can even drive through to get your drugs (pharmaceuticals that is).... Legs are redundant, retired; whats the point when you have wheels! Highways are an American institution. Drive in, order, pick up, pay, drive away. Everyone is on their way somewhere fast, but noone is moving. Bums are superglued to GM motor and Chevy seats. The cafe and a good gossip is no part of this life ... a drawn out dinner over glasses of wine is history.

The American is a breed without legs and with a cupped hand. Babies are born with their right hand in a cupping shape, thumb on one side and fingers clasped together, glued to each other on the other. There are cup holders on prams, so babies learn early what their cupped hand is for. Then, when the babies get big enough to sit in the shopping trolleys, there are cup holders in the shopping trolleys. There are cup holders in all cars, and cup holders in trains. Cup holders on chairs and cupholders in buses. And there are cup holders so big they fit a 2 litre bottle.

It is a cheap joke to laugh at the fat American, but here heavyweights abound. Even today, it seems that it is a constant concern that American’s do not starve; either that or someone has a very sick sense of humour in the roads and traffic authority. Every 2 miles, another sign alerts us to a food stop where there is not just McDonalds, but Subway, Dennys, Sheris, KFC, Tacobell, Sizzler, Wendys; Starbucks, Happy Teriyaki, Dominos and plenty of other mutations that are just as tacky and popular. Whilst fastfood is more available than drinking water, a supermarket with fresh fruit and vegetables is a rare highway phenomenon. So it was for miles and miles and miles that we drove through Washington and Oregon before there was a convenient highway side Safeway - a grocery store to stock up. Even Safeway had a takeaway section incase you arrived there, and decided that, after all, grocery shopping and cooking was not really your thing.

As if the food signs weren't enough though, there are also signs for pharmaceuticals, that to an Ozzie scream of a drug culture. You're now in Pill country they shout, and London Drugs! for all those in need. So where do we start to taste the American cultcha, do we try it out at every fastfood outlet to experience the American life and doing so end up hauling up bags of lard on our thighs up the next mountain we climb... I think not. Do we spend bigtime at the malls epecially as the Ozzie dollar continues to climb and we seem richer by the day.... I think not. Do we experience the pills and drugs that Americans are addicted to... climbing is addiction enough... We are I think experiencing the American way of life by driving for miles and miles, by spending up big on gallons of gas, and buying "small" coffees which being supersize are enough for the two of us. But, most of all, and the reason why we are here is to experiencing the best thing I think that Americans have came up with... the national park, and we are not just going to drive through.