Snow Valley -- August 28th, 2004

For my final hurrah as a SoCal based Timber Bandit, we ventured high into the San Bernadino mountains to have a look-see at a place called Snow Valley. We didn't know anyone who had been there, but from the topos we found on the internet, it appeared to have merit.

This wall offered plenty of opportunities to choose your own destiny

Susan, Kip, myself, and the Doctor arrived at Snow Valley North around midday, and hopped out of the car, eager to see what this place was all about. Susan, of course, literally hopped, having not yet fully recovered from her broken ankle suffered in Joshua Tree, 3.06.04.

In what was to be typical of the weekend to come, the guides were initially of little use to our feeble minds. Due to the under-developed-ness of the place, it was difficult to find routes. We ended up doing a lot of exploring, and attempting to find things ourselves, only to later look back at the guidebook and exclaim, "aaaahhhh, so this must be"...

The nice wall pictured above made for a few nice climbs. The sad catch-22 about undeveloped areas is that many of the great routes are chossy and dirty. All weekend the hard granite seemed to either be ripping off our skin, or flaking and crumbling away, sending us skidding off the boulders. Not even the roadside spectacles I had been wearing all afternoon could help me see the way.

After more confusion about where we were and how to get to the other places on our maps, we happened upon Snow Valley West. There were more promising routes here for sure. Kip's friend Barry arrived, making the trek up from San Diego, and cementing himself as the newest Timber Bandit. We found a nicely overhanging juggy face on a fairly tall boulder near the turnout, which kept us entertained for a good 45 minutes. Everyone topped out, and there were enough variations (from static, to eliminates, to lunges, to super dynos) to keep everyone happy.

Orange Julius all jazzed up to attempt the dyno flake

As it was getting darker, we moved deeper into SV West and found some promising cracks and a scary, high, featureless face. A few of us sent the crack with the mossy, sloper topout, and then Barry nearly bailed high on another crack, unnerving his spotters who could barely see him at this point (not because he was that high, but because it was dark). The only thing more unnerving was his sketchy decent that involved lots of loose rock and a nearby tree.

We returned to the car, vacillating on our sleeping plans. After deciding to head to nearby Big Bear Lake for the evening, Barry soothed us all with his angelic voice, belting out a Sublime classic, "April 26th 1992", via walkie-talkie. Sadly the lake was packed and all of the campgrounds full, so we headed to higher ground and snagged one of the last spots at a nearby campground.

The carnage begins...

Here, we feasted on a Barry specialty, some sort of burrito-like object. Then, we capped the evening as all good boulderers do...with a rousing game of Scrabble!?! Barry put the argument of which dictionary was more official (American Heritage vs. The Official Scrabble Dictionary) to rest, when he essentially ended the game midway through by playing some ridiculous word that was worth over 100 points. I think it may have had a Z in it that got doubled, on a triple word score, using all his letters. Such things are best forgotten. Sheesh.

The temperature had been dropping rapidly, and much of dinner and Scrabble was spent with one or more members trekking back to the Sin Bin for more clothing. None of us seemed prepared for the temperature to drop into the 40's, but it did create some excuses for everyone to sleep a bit closer to one another than usual. We drifted off to sleep after what seemed like hours of playing a game that involved trying to stump people with movie titles and actors names.

We hoped our shreaded tips and shattered egos would sufficiently heal by morning.

the story continues...