Over the course of about three weeks I’ve managed to climb outside 6 days, show my parents around Barcelona for two weekends, and, by strategically using national holidays and one absence, miss only two classes. Pretty good for being a full time student!!
My decision to come to Barcelona was somewhat hasty. About two years ago I was considering about studying abroad but after a bit of searching and talking with friends I was convinced that a semester abroad would not give me the that freedom I wanted. I pretty much put it out of my mind until last spring when a couple of friends were going to be studying abroad and I ended up looking into my own options. I found a program that seemed to offer me what I was looking for, and with a couple weeks until the application deadline I figured I would give it some thought. I knew that I wanted to go abroad for spring so that I could travel the following summer, but I wasn’t sure about the whole year. At the same time I was attempting to secure my housing plans for the next year, and that same night I got a call from a friend whom I had been planning to live with.
“Hey, we found a great house and we’re going down tomorrow morning to put down the deposit, I need to know if you’re in on it.”
Decision time... Since I hadn’t told my parents (after all I had been thinking about going abroad for half of a day), I gave them a call. Usually we talk for a while, but this conversation was to the point. I asked if it was ok to study abroad for a year, and they said, “of course, go for it!”
Done deal. One day I was thinking about my next year in Boulder, the next day I was going to Barcelona for the year. I called my parents back and told them I was going, and not surprisingly they answered “well, I guess we’ll be taking a trip to Spain”
Over the next few months Mom and Dad planned a full Spain tour, beginning and ending in Barcelona. Three weeks ago the usual mix of excitement, uncertainty, and jet-lag the Jorde parents arrived in Barcelona. The first day I decided to introduce them to the city the same way I was introduced to the city – walking for miles and miles. We pretty much saw it all on foot. Cuitadella Park, Arc de Triomf, Olympic Village, Barrio Gótico, and the Borne District, it was the whirlwind walking tour. At the end of the day I welcomed them to Spanish cuisine by choosing a Japanese-Peruvian fusion restaurant, after all they would be eating Spanish food for a few weeks so why not start with something different?
On Saturday and Sunday Mom and Dad finished up the sightseeing tour with visits to the Picasso Museum and the Sagrada Familia, and I joined them for an afternoon in Park Guell and a trip to the Joan Miró museum. Park Guell is an incredible display of Gaudí’s genius and while I’m not sure he would be happy about the plethora of squeaky-mouth-toy vendors, he would certainly be honored that his park brings so many people together to enjoy each other’s company and the beauty of nature. If you don’t know what a squeaky-mouth-toy is then you have something to be thankful for on Thanksgiving. Unfortunately I can’t be thankful for that, so I’ll settle for having two amazing and supportive parents that are passionate about life and always looking forward to the next adventure.
After Mom and Dad jumped on train to continue their Spain adventure, I met up with a friend and drove up to Margalef to skip school for a day and enjoy Spain Day with two days of climbing. We decided to risk the uncertain weather forecast, and I’m glad we did because we ended up getting a great day on Monday and a rainy day on Tuesday. We arrived late morning and since I had yet to pick up a guidebook, I took us straight back to the crag where I had climbed on my previous visit. I was happy to head back to the same crag because it meant that I could have another shot at the climb that had sent me ground-wards last time. After a couple tufa-pinching warmups, I tied in beneath P.G.B (12c). Swinging my arms, focusing my breath, I tried to visualize executing the delicate crux moves perfectly. Lowering off of the climb last time I remembered thinking “as long as I stick the crux, I’ll hang on to the top” and so I focused all of my attention on the four hard moves that would determine success or failure. Or so I thought.
Starting up the climb, I quickly pulled through steep and powerful moves and arrived at the rest before the crux feeling fresh and focused. A few chalk dips later, and riding a deep exhalation I launched into the small edges with precision. I executed the moves flawlessly, and soon found myself on the sustained moves that make up the final 50 feet to the anchors. It was here, on terrain that had felt secure on the previous try, that I started flailing. I grabbed the wrong pockets and used the worse footholds. At one point I was hanging onto small edges when my feet cut loose after choosing the smallest pockets as footholds. I was sure I was off, and that I had failed. Somehow I still held on, managed to get my feet back on, and keep climbing. Unfortunately, since I had wasted so much energy my forearms and back were pumping out just as I was entering the bulk of the sustained climbing. Thinking failure was imminent, I did what any panicked animal does and I started motoring. “Just go man, just go” I kept telling myself, and somehow move after move I was still clinging to the rock. Before long I was staring down the last long move to the final jug. Out of juice, I wasn’t going to make it. Fall now or fall later, so I went for it. One yell (well, more of a scream) later and I felt the thud of my fingers catching the jug. Surprised and exhausted, I quickly clipped the chains and slumped into my harness. Despite the fact that I climbed terribly for the majority of the route, I finished victorious, barely.
Tuesday it rained.
Not tuesday
After a whopping two days of class, and two days of motivated gym training I jumped back in the car and went straight back to Margalef for round three. Friday I was still a little tired from the week, so I enjoyed the incredible moderate routes of Can Verdures. Looking over my shoulder as the day ended, the crown of Margalef, Racó de les Espadelles, seemed to glow golden long after the sun had set, and I was filled with excitement for the next day.
Saturday we drove up the steep and winding road to Racó de les Espadelles, all the while wondering if the rental car was going to make it. The short approach passed quickly as we were captivated by the view of the valley cut by the Montsant river. I warmed up slowly, incrementally increasing the intensity to be fresh for my goal climb of the day, “La Gomorra” a powerful and overhanging 12c. When I was ready, I tied in and spent a few minutes eyeing the moves. The climbing was very obvious for the first half: a few pockets linked together by big dynamic moves. About half-way a huge hole appeared to offer a good rest before the sequential small pocket stabbing that led to the anchors. I memorized the moves and committed to the powerful opening moves. I quickly found myself at the hole resting, but I blew the onsight a few moves later as the pocket I went for turned out to be shallow and useless. I lowered off, rested, and sent second go. Here are some photos.
Hard moves to start
Resting at the hole halfway up
A couple moves from the anchors
Feeling strong, I decided to have a go at the nearby route Sudoku 12d. The hard climbing comes right away. The crux move comes just after the first bolt: a huge move to a pocket. After that, a mono (which I used to clip the next quickdraw) and several tiny two finger pockets separated by small delicate moves end at a large pocket. A few long moves between small, but good, holds follow before the climbing eases for the last few bolts. After falling at the crux move, I worked the moves on rest of the route and saved my energy for a second try. It was a good thing I did, because as soon as I lowered I rested a few minutes and tied back in to finish the climb before I was left in total darkness. I knew that as long as I stuck the crux move I would finish the route, not because the next moves were easy, but because there was no way I was letting go. Luck was on my side and I quickly dispatched the crux move and soon found myself through the next hard moves and at the large pocket. Feeling surprisingly tired, the rest of the climb was a secure struggle, I wasn’t going to fall but I had to give it my full attention. The day ended up being my hardest day of climbing ever, as I had only every climbed two 12b’s in one day so doing a 12c and a 12d both second go was pretty good!
Sunday was a bit of a logistical disaster and despite feeling very strong and motivated I didn’t get a chance to get on anything difficult. Our first crag was too cold, our next crag was too hot, and by the time we got to the third crag we only had time for two routes before sunset. I basically spent the day warming up then re-warming up.
Back in Barcelona my parents came back for a second weekend after spending a couple weeks traveling around Spain, and it sounds like they had a great time. On Saturday we went up to Montserrat, a nearby mountain range with a monastery secluded high above the valley below. We spent a great day hiking around and enjoying the views.
Mom and Dad's Spain Adventure
Montserrat
Well Chris - I'm breathless! Your writing brings us in to your moments and they are - whew - edgy! Wonderful that you have this year and could share some with your folks! I know you will continue to enjoy and keep writing! Cindy
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