Twelve Days in the Northeast

Hi folks,

The most recent trip report is posted here on Climbing.com. I'm no poet, but I took a shot at writing a poem anyway. Because of the way the text wraps around the photos, it doesn't quite look as I submitted it, but that's OK. I really have no clue if it's any good or not. Here is the beginning to give you an idea:

Upon the passing of Hurricane Earl;
he flew in just before
we drove

Guidebook: Acadia - Wafer Step (5.5), Deep Blue Sea (5.7), Guillemot Crack (5.6), Story of O (5.6), Bartleby (5.8), Yellow Wall (5.8), Recollections of Pacifica (5.9), Brochure Crack (5.9+)

Acadia National Park

Descriptions of a few of the routes in Acadia National Park in Maine.




Click here for the rest of the Acadia guidebook posts.


Otter Cliffs

Approach: From the main parking area at Otter Cliffs, cross the street to the walled path that leads to cliffs. Take a sharp left at the end of that path to another well-worn path that parallels the road but goes in the opposite

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly - The Weird Season: Part 2

The Good



The Bubbles from Jordan Pond
(photo by Melanie Hall)
I waved good-bye to my four-year-old niece and my mom as they pulled out of the parking lot and headed to the airport and back to California. It had been a nice week with filled with lobster cookouts, skipping rocks, ice cream on the Village Green, gossip, and the laughter that comes after old ghosts are drawn out of closets long

The Weird Season: Part I

CCK (5.8)
If you're a regular reader then you'll remember my "retirement" post from a few weeks ago. It's silly to call it a retirement because I never was making a living as a climber, but that trip to Red Rocks did change things for me as a climber. It killed all ambition I had to challenge myself on routes, and it turned my attention to more serious matters such as writing and taking

A First Day Outside

Being home was never about climbing. I grew up on the water; on a sailboat and lobster boat to be specific. It was also about pulling a paddle's fin against the Frenchman's Bay tides and pushing pedals on Rockefeller's carriage trails. I was the first bike guide to bring tourists down Cadillac Mountain after they had just witnessed the opening rays of sunshine touch land on the continental United

Great Head - Acadia

I grew up in Bar Harbor, Maine and went climbing only once while growing up. It was during one of my summer day camp outings, when I was six or seven years old, and I cried like a baby because I was so afraid of letting go of the rock. Ten feet off the ground was a long way for me then (still is a bit today). My death grip may have left a permanent impression on the rock. It was a bit