Valley Boys – We Have Arrived

“Welcome aboard flight 387 with service to Denver International…”

I’m forgetting something. I know I am. I should have left work earlier, and then I would have been able to check my bags once more before rushing out the door. “We’ll have a full flight this evening folks so…” Ugh! What is it? Alright let’s go over the list. Harness, check. Shoes, check. Rope, rack, sleeping bag… Nope got all that. Maybe it’s something I forgot at work. Timesheet, check. Tell my boss I’m leaving for nine days, check. Dammit! I forgot to turn on my out of office reply. I’m so lame.

“Before we take off folks, we have some important safety announcements…”

What an inconsequential worry for a 28 year old to have. It seems, though, that the further I get into my career, the harder is it to completely leave work behind for these escapes. I’m really going to enjoy this week away. And just like that, the plane leaves the security of the earth’s surface, but this time the weight of my “other” life doesn’t leave with it.

The flight to Denver is almost as automatic as the drive anymore. Board plane, stewardess safety speech, 20 minutes later cruising altitude, quick snack, and 20 minutes later you’re breathing the crisp, pine-laced air of the mile high city – at least as much as can sneak into through the doors of Anywhere, America, also known as Blank International Airport. My travel mate, Rusty, and I leisurely make our way to our connector, gorging on Chinese fast food in preparation for tomorrow’s kick-off climbing fest. We discuss beta, gear, and are excited to see old friends again, knowing that each bite of insipid, imitation Chinese gets us closer to nine days in the Valley. Thirty minutes to take off.

Are we lost? We must be. There’s no way San Jose is this far away. Either that or we’re flying in circles because the pilot and copilot are going shot for shot with a handle of Popov up there. And whose idea was it to fly into San Jose anyway? Was Fresno just too close to the Valley? And just like that, all the burdens, all the tension, and all the aggression melt away. Why? Well it could be that I joined our flight crew in the last round of shots, but more likely it is because our pilot has graciously landed us in sunny (or in this case starry) California.

All of a sudden, I’m reveling in the impending four-hour drive to the Valley. The wave of anticipation is too much. I have to forget where I’m planning to lay my head tonight or my adrenal glands will surely short circuit my central nervous system. This week is mine. It’s mine to spend how I like. The Rostrum, Cathedral Spires, El Cap, Cookie, Camp 4 are no longer daydreams to be had while surfing Mountain Project. By morning’s light they will be at arm’s reach, and that brings a smile to my face. For me, the next nine days are freedom.

“We’d like to be the first to welcome you to San Jose. We know you have many choices in airlines…”

We have arrived.

After a gluttonous nine days in Yosemite Valley, I have returned with sore (but healing) tips, stories, and meditations that I just can’t seem to do justice in one post. Consequently, look for a handful of posts in a series over the next week, or so. These posts will, in as timely a manner as possible, will culminate in a new ClimbingHouse recurring interview thread. This interview, appropriately, will be with one of the great Yosemite Bums you’ve never heard of. Can’t wait to share the week with ya’ll. Stay tuned… Photo Credit goes to Andy Chasteen. Check him out. Not only is the the sadistic mind behind 24HHH, but he’s one helluva photographer.