Tuesday, December 4th: Tom and I woke up to a beautifully sunny day, anxious to experience what Joshua Tree had to offer. We had spent the night on BLM land and were still a few hours north of the park. After making breakfast and packing up, we headed out, nearly getting the truck stuck in the ground’s loose sand. That afternoon, we wandered around several rock formations, struggling to find the routes we were looking for. Eventually spotting an area that looked within our ability level, we set up for our first climb. The rock felt like course sandpaper and was mostly void of positive holds. We had been unaware, but quickly found out that the majority of Joshua Tree Climbing is slab. Slab, meaning less than vertical and bare, is Tom and my least preferred and most uncomfortable style of climbing. The body tension and trusting of your feet that it requires, not only feeds our fear, but also presents the potential for falls in which your body scrapes along the rock. Our first route was an easy grade, giving us false confidence for how the rest of the day would go. On our second route, I sat teary eyed, paralyzed by my self doubt and concern over the distance up to the second clip. Tom held me as I rested on the rope, trying to muster the courage that I needed to start moving. Finally facing my fears, I stood up and stepped with intention, pushing the thought of myself slipping, out of my head. Relieved to clip the second bolt, I continued up the route. It took multiple attempts at making it to the third bolt before my stubbornness yielded and I bailed off. I had already eaten up so much of our time and wanted to give Tom the chance to take an honest stab at it. For the sake of getting our gear back, we were lucky that he was able to reach the third clip without completing the move that was shutting both of us down. With the draw on the wall, he was able to pull that in order to get through the impossibly bare section. Both believing that he was through the worst of it, we assumed that the rest of the climb would be tolerable. Little did we know, that the steepest, most thin climbing was yet to come. Tom’s bravery to the fourth clip was inspiring. Working through his discomfort, he stayed mentally present and denied his instinctual hesitation. With a single clip sitting in between him and the anchors, he pressed on. After taking a big fall, he attached himself to our gear and let down rope for me to give him the stick clip. With that, he was able to clip the next bolt and protect the sketchiest portion. It was all quite an ordeal, but worth each of our safety. With the route completed, I lowered him off with the opportunity to climb it on top rope. It was a much more enjoyable experience being fully protected and unafraid to fall, giving me further appreciation for Tom’s confidence and perseverance. That night, we slept in a public land area not far from the park.
We returned to Joshua Tree on Wednesday, knowing that we had a limited amount of time before expected rain. With rock formations in every direction, it is difficult to navigate them, or even decipher one from another. After finally reaching Oyster Bar, our intended destination, we were able to complete two routes before the sky opened up. The first route started with a technically complex bouldering move, then finished on easy terrain. The second gave each of us a run for our money and stripped the skin from our fingertips. Sustained, thin holds that were difficult to find, shot our muscles and poked at our pride. Feeling content and needing to escape the advancing weather, we headed to the truck’s shelter. Our timing was less than perfect, with rain falling on us for most of the walk back. As our down coats became saturated Tom joked at our lack of forethought; “When you have limited clothing, make sure that when it’s supposed to rain, you where your warmest layer and leave your rain jacket in the car”. We both laughed, accepting the reality of our negligence. After reaching the camper and preparing lunch, we returned to camp, knowing that the rain would keep us from climbing.
We woke up on Thursday to continued rain and increased wind. Hoping that it wouldn’t persist, we checked the forecast to find a prevalence of wet and cold. Although we would have preferred to climb, we had been meaning to spend some time doing research making decisions regarding our winter plans. Throughout the day, we made food, cleaned the camper, cut both of our hair and contacted several landlords around Salt Lake City. After hours of being sedentary, I got out to stretch my legs and take a pause from our little nest. When I returned, Tom was in the middle of cooking peanut noodles for dinner. Since being on the road, he has developed the competency and strong appreciation for preparing a meal. I have enjoyed being a witness and assistant in the development of his culinary confidence and comfortability. While making meals alongside me, he would diligently take notes and ask questions, eventually taking it upon himself to attempt our staples independently. Seven months of traveling has not only taught the two of us valuable skills, but also matured us in ways that we couldn’t have predicted. The beautiful people and places we’ve experiened, along with our freedom to live unbound, has loosened our tight grip and simplified our needs. These evolutions were not always easy and often resulted from the illumination of our less attractive qualities. Although accompanied by growing pains, each transformation healed more than they hurt. These personal and mutual experiences have made us better individuals and strengthened our relationship. After 11 years together, we learned how to truly be a team and acknowledged the thin fissures that required delicate and intentional mending. Neither of us are certain where to go from here, or how to best live out our journey, but we feel prepared to take the days as they come and cultivate a life of gratitude.
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