My pops and I have been working on cleaning up a huge slab of limestone on the property to be used as a bouldering rock. You can get an idea of the walls location in the above photo – it’s about where the valley ends and to the left of that last bush in the field. It seems like an extension of the house since it’s a short five minute walk and visible from the deck but it is definitely not. I was reminded of that yesterday.

Yesterday, as I was working on some bouldering problems I heard something moving around in the woods to the south, and very close, to me. At first I wasn’t readily concerned since I assumed it was just one of the coyotes that hunts in the field and figured s/he will just run away once he or she catches my scent. Or it could be a turkey, elk, or maybe the moose that was recently spotted. But then I heard some grunting sounds that came from the lungs of something rather large with, probably, sharp teeth. I quickly realized that we saw a black bear walk through the field the day before and spotted two of them on our driveway a few days before that. I simultaneously started making noise and assessing my climbing ability as a survival tool instead of a hobby. Luckily the bear did not approach me so I was allowed to climb in peace.

The incredible fact that I am able to walk a short distance from the house, basically staying on my extended backyard, to a huge bouldering wall (pictured above), and still have to deal with large predators does not escape me. It’s going to be very difficult for me to leave the CCR and move to Pullman.

It’s time to ramble. The past week or so was full of random events, goals, and adventures. It was all good but I feel as if I need to write about it with hopes to find some structure. I’ll start with the mountain bike trip near the Slocan, in British Columbia.

Paul Anderson, a man famous for his rock climbing accomplishments as one of the pioneers of the sport and the first person to climb a 5.11 in the U.S., has discovered the joys of the mountain bike. His goal is to sequence a series of trails, from east to west, that stretch from nearly the eastern side of British Columbia to the western side. The trails are derived from resurrected and modified train tracks that were purchased by the Canadian government and donated to local clubs for maintenance and general stewardship. Paul has plans of riding a 30 mile stretch of the trails once a week. To do this he needs a partner with another vehicle to ditch at one end of the trail and use the other to ferry back. Paul is actively recruiting and I was one of the fellas that he asked. I couldn’t turn the opportunity down so I went along. The ride was fairly easy but the scenery was breathtaking. The ride started at the southern end of Lake Slocan and paralleled the Slocan River with views of Valhalla Provincial Park and a unique and wonderful peak called Gimli Peak (which I will hike to or summit one day).

The next day I had plans to white water kayak but those failed to materialize so I went on a few nature hikes around the property where I picked up four more tick points and discovered a huge limestone bouldering rock with some kind of den underneath. The next day I went mountain biking with friends up a strenuous trail to the east of Sheep Creek Road. It was a good ride with a steep and fast descent. Following that I went to soccer practice. The next day I had a soccer game in Canada. We were able to field a full team so I wasn’t responsible for the entire midfield this time. I exhausted myself a couple of times but it wasn’t as bad as last week, the day after Bloomsday.

Tuesday my dad and I met up with a fella in Colville and we three headed to Leavenworth for a 4-H Challenge Instructor’s training in rock climbing. That was an incredible experience which I really should write a dedicated post for. The other attendees were fully supportive of my dad and my efforts to get a non-profit outdoor school started. The training was a great refresher for my climbing knowledge and incredibly valuable for methods of teaching kids new skills in a fun and safe manner. Leavenworth was amazing with warm weather and high water flow in the Wenatchee River (darn cold though), beautiful granite, and great climbs. I plan on going back.

I got back from the training a couple of days again but was sick with either the flu or heat exhaustion until today. So the past two days I sat around being unproductive and worthless which was nice (I played Dragon Quest VIII for like 16 hrs – which is odd for me because I’m not a big gamer) but has caused a great stir of renewed determination to get crap done again.

The temperature finally isn’t dipping down below 40 F so we can finish up the master bedroom and start building the library shelves, the tomato plants are ready to be transplanted and general planting is finally safe, the barb wire is ready to be stretched, kayak season is in full force, a huge snow ball effect has started with the non-profit which I need to roll with, I need to make up a bunch of hours for my ‘real’ job, and I need to start developing some climbing routes with my pops. No more Dragon Quest.

This post was the final catalyst. It’s zoom time.

The Palouse starts south of Spokane and is readily apparent. Small mountains vanish from the foreground and are replaced with rolling farmland, devoid of trees and covered in wheat. Upon entering the Palouse I was overcome with a strong urge to speak to myself in Spanish and yell things like “donde esta las montanas?” and “Ahhh… esta bonita, no?”. Perhaps it triggered something deeply embedded in me, something from the old west, of cowboys, and ranchers. Or it was just a result of driving for three hours without radio.

The view from Highway 195, south of Spokane, the Palouse Loess is nearly ubiquitous. A few road cuts expose ancient basalt with origins from a volcano near the corner of Washington, Oregon, and Idaho, called the Grande Ronde volcano, which was active during the late Miocene. The numerous eruptions make up the region in southestern Washington know as the Columbia Plateau. In the far eastern distance the foothills of the Rockie Mountains rise up above the flood basalt flows. One such hill, similar to those in the distance, is much closer. It is little over five miles from Highway 195 and is named Steptoe Butte.

Steptoe Butte is composed of rock much older than any other around. The rock was here before the basalt floods and before the loess was blown here from the glacial outwash plains. It stood tall before the conglomerate of exotic islands that compose Washington State were united, before the Kootani Arc was formed and even before life had evolved. Steptoe Butte is made up of Precambrian belt sedimentary rock and is over a billion years old.

There is a campground at the base of the butte and a road that spirals up to the peak. The road allows nearly everyone an easy way to the top but scars the hill’s facade. I, of course, had to reach the top. The road was narrow. Big trucks barreled down swerving into the middle of the road so I was forced to move inches from the edge just to avoid them. Large rocks sat in my path, marmots scurried all around me, and no guardrail was present. By the time I got to the top I felt as if I just drove through the gauntlet. It was worth it as I was rewarded with an amazing view of the Palouse and its huge sky rich with cumulus clouds. In less than three months I will be one of the many specks in these vast plains and I am nothing but excited about it.

Trombetta road is a humble drive made of compacted dirt. It stretches a mere two miles and outlines the partial base of Silvercrown Mountain. There is nothing intrinsically special to the road itself; its history is bland and it hosts no steep hills or sharp turns. However, the environment that the road passes through is rich and from it brings many great gifts to the traveler.

The road is placed in a forest dominated by ponderosa pine and douglas fir. In its brief two miles it rests near two ponds, a few open fields, one large cedar stand, and is filled with numerous animal tracks. The roads rural nature is exactly why I find it the perfect jogging route.

Todays jog took place early in the day when the sun was just peaking over the mountains. The road was heavily shadowed and pockets of frost remained. The sun was making quick work of burning the ice off the road as well as creating a cacophony of sound while it melted the ice off the field grass allowing the blades to spring back, with a snap, to their more vertical positions. I jogged slowly to absorb the scenery and to disturb the wildlife as little as possible.

As I made my way down the road four white-tailed deer stood watching me as I passed. There was one mature female and three old fawns, born the previous fall. Further down along my jog I approached an open field where a flock of wild turkey stood nearly hidden in the drab colors of the dead shoots from last years milk thistle and yellow sweet clover. The wild turkey congregated in the winter for protection while foraging. Now, in early spring, they are temporally extending the flock for easier courtship rituals.

Indeed, Trombetta road did not disappoint.