The Hazard Chronicles

The dappled light filters through the trees as we stroll along the riverbank, hand in hand, basking in the senses of the brisk early morning. Conversation comes easily, rising and falling to a natural rhythm that allows for both expression as well as reflection. By and by, savory smells of breakfast waft through the air as the town behind us begins to wake up to a bright new day. The reverent dawn having come to a close, we turn back on our tracks with reluctant enthusiasm to synchronize the opening of our favorite local restaurant with our arrival. Walking ever faster with nervous impatience in our steps, we feel compelled onward by the rising sun toward adventures that had been planned just hours before.

*****

The previous day had been a whirlwind of activity with band practice, church, and a family trip to the beach in the headlong pursuit of "rest" that has come to typify our Sundays. In the middle of all of this Rachel and I looked at each other, a thought passed silently between us, and we and nodded our heads.

Phone calls were made.
Meals were prepared.
The car was packed.

Three and a half hours later we were sitting on an outdoor porch, drinks in hand, enjoying the clean acoustic vibes of a Leavenworth folk duo as the day expired its last, sweet breaths into the cool night air. We both had extremely busy weeks coming up, and the kids only had four days left until the relentless march of Summer Vacation overtook us, laying waste in the process to our carefully and precariously balanced lives. In other words, we needed this.

*****

Which brings us back to the beginning of our post. After relishing our meal (eggs benedict and potatoes) and paying our tip, we were off for the real destination of the trip: Castle Rock.

Leavenworth is a town of two faces, really. The first, and most common image that arises in the public mind is that of a cute, if somewhat contrived, Bavarian village. The streets bustle with tourists almost constantly and a person is assaulted on all sides by the savory smells of cured meats as well as images depicting giant, menacing nutcrackers. It is a unique place, and offers more nightlife than would be expected for a town of just two thousand inhabitants.

The other, more wild side of Leavenworth is what keeps us going back though. Hidden closely behind the carefully manicured image of quaintness and whimsy, a person can find a set of mountains, rivers, and canyons that are almost unsurpassed in their potential for outdoor recreation. To get an idea of the climbing alone, consider for a moment that there are at least three different guidebooks that are needed in order to read, with very few repetitions, of all the established routs in the region. Besides this, there are hundreds of miles of trails offering access to some of the most dramatic landscapes in the country, not to mention easily accessed rivers which satisfy a broad range of whitewater enthusiasts

This wasn't always the case, of course, and the history is a little bit relevant to our purpose here on this weekend. In 1948 Fred Beckey walked up to Castle Rock, and with the help of two friends, established the very first multi-pitch route in the entire state of Washington- a state which now is known as the home and stomping grounds of some of the best climbers in the world. By either coincidence, or more likely, a keen eye for quality, the route lives on today as one of the best in the area, and it seems appropriate that it would be featured as Rachel's inauguration into the world of traditional rock climbing.

*****

How is one supposed to describe a climb? This question, rhetorical in nature, is meant more as an acknowledgement than anything of the limitations of human language. The answer is that you can't. It is ineffable, requiring the use of words and ideas that only have meaning to those of a similar mindset. It is like trying to describe your favorite meal, or a particularly moving piece of music. It is more of a feeling than an event, making it much more significant, even in the moment, than what could ever be described thereafter.

Suffice it to say that we climbed six pitches of beautifully clean granite, reveling in the physical movement as well as in the extraordinary vertical world we had become a part of. We took our time, often pausing at ledges to take in the view, share private moments, or continue our constant stream of conversation. Life's demands were vanquished for a moment, swallowed up by our circumstances, and time itself took on the curious quality of both standing still and rushing by all at once.

In short, it was magical.

Pulling over a roof on P2

Clean slabs on p5

Summit!

*****

After a celebratory meal back in town we returned home, refreshed and ready for our return to normal adult responsibilities. It had only been twenty four hours, but the time meant so much more than that. These little respites from life- intermissions in the hustle and bustle that typify our normal operations- are absolutely indispensable to our happiness and well-being. We are so fortunate to live in such a spectacular place, and to have the resources to take advantage of it on such a regular basis.

Have a good week!