Chalky Canyons

The second and final week in Red Rocks is done. The trip’s halfway marker. The desert is a diagnostic instrument. It measures me. It exposes my judgment, tolerances, and tenacity.

Week two was marked by deep hikes into the canyons—long approaches that make your calves burn and back ache hauling 60 lbs of gear. And still it is so worth it. I made every effort not to have the days blur even though it was a day of repeat boulders.

In the second week I noticed myself reveling in playing a support role to friends who are in town. Cheering them on their projects and living vicariously through their sends. Partnering in the problem solving and enjoying the luxury of a rest day.

When I was climbing as a weekend warrior—compressed between Mondays—every boulder felt urgent and zero sum. Send or fail. Extract value. Optimize the day. Out here, unmoored from the grammar of productivity, the mentality shifts in ways that is almost embarrassing to admit. I am willing to walk away from a line that doesn’t feel right, to save it for another season, even though that hold could always break before then. I am willing to slip into support mode and mean it. The desert does not care about your clip.

Achievement is loud but presence is more valuable. My days haven’t been centered on conquest; rather, my time is focused on just being.

Next stop Joshua Tree.