Trip Log: Continental Ranch Roundup
Snapshots from a good weekend with a better crew.
Hannah, Sam, Brian, Ben, Ellen and I rolled out west for the semiannual Continental Ranch Roundup early Friday morning; armed with climbing and camping gear, not enough sleep, and a gallon-sized ziplock bag stuffed with king cake that we may or may not have eaten for breakfast.
Fiveish hours later, we turned onto the ranch’s dirt road and crawled along a line of other trucks, SUVs, and one very brave Prius down 15 miles of potholes and cactus spines to our home for the weekend; windows down and dust blowing and just extremely happy.
Continental is a privately-owned ranch of sprawling desert — that suddenly falls hundreds of feet down limestone cliff faces to the Pecos River below. The couple that owns the ranch now is the fourth generation in their family to run the place, and while they may not share climbers’ obsession with that limestone, they open it up twice a year for a small number of people and let us have the run of the walls. When my friends snagged tickets, it was an easy “I’m in.”
We crammed as much climbing as we could into two days. I couldn’t get over the height of the walls and the feel of the rock — it reminded me of Shelf Road, genuinely, though the majority of the routes were much slabbier than that. I haven’t gotten to be on real rock nearly as much as I’d like over the past six months, so my head game wasn’t great; but I was proud of the way I climbed through it. The hardest route I led was a 5.11 arete eerily similar to the one I injured my foot falling on in August, and while I didn’t send, it felt like a victory to get on it, push hard, take a couple big falls, and replace that injury memory with some positive experiences. (To be fair to myself re: my shaky mental state, I also kicked off my redpoint attempt by snapping a fantastic undercling off at draw three, which is always an unsettling way to find yourself flying through the air — and also such a comical disappointment. It was such a good undercling, guys. I miss that undercling so much.)
While my tendency is to get hung up on a hard climb and project it, our crew collectively opted to be driven by fun — we mostly stuck to lower grades and just drank in the movement. I led what felt like an unending 5.7 slab, meandering back and forth, smearing my way up an enormous crack system, balancing across crimps that felt like they were cut for a gym, and reveling in big, delicate mantel moves; then spent the whole time I was being lowered marveling at the length of the route and just how much was packed into it. No matter how easy the climb, it seemed like everything we got on had at least one sequence that was positively hypnotic.
When it got too hot to climb, we jumped in the river, whose color I absolutely never got over even for a second. We tucked into shady spots along the rocks and ate leftover sandwiches and sourdough crackers. We cheered each other on — or berated, whichever we kind of decided as a group the person on the wall most needed and deserved. I almost lost my life to a swarm of bees while belaying Hannah, which was the scariest moment of my life so far I think, and which I also definitely blame Brian for, even if he did also save me by taking over the belay so I could run away. We cooked breakfast and dinner off tailgates and ate around a fire and had really intense discussions about really pointless things and laughed so much. I learned how to operate a camp stove, belay with a prusik, and change a tire. Ellen, who was born in Pennsylvania, learned Deep in the Heart of Texas for the first time ever and spent the rest of the weekend asking everyone else we met at the crag if they knew it, too; and becoming increasingly delighted when every native Texan did, and also instinctively knew the four-clap thing. In short: good stuff.
The whole thing was a bit of a time warp, in the best way possible. Our group snuck out a bit early to get a head start on our weeks, and it took me until we hit Del Rio to remember to turn my phone back on and check in with the outside world. The sheer beauty of the place and the satisfaction of getting a few days to just do the thing I love — and with people so good — was a much-needed gift, and makes me hungry to get back out there soon.
(P.S. — Thanks to Ellen for getting some photos of me on the wall! I never have climbing photos of myself, and it was so fun to see. And thanks to Hannah for sneaking ones of me on the river so that I didn’t look horrifically awkward, that was nice.)
