Don't get me wrong, Butte is a nice place... but every once and a while getting the hell out of Dodge is essential. So inspired by a beautiful looking forecast I headed west to Missoula for some fine granite, beer and culture. Boy oh boy did the pilgrimage par off.
I had been itching to to return to Lost Horse for a while. On Saturday, after striking out looking for partners all morning long, I decided to head out solo with hopes of repeating as many classics as possible. It'd been a couple years since I'd climbed in the canyon, and it was a blast trying to remember old beta and reworking things I once had wired.
Highlight of the day was running into Ian "the tattooed gorilla" Carapoli, at John Wayne. After a year hiatus it was excellent to see Ian back outside, dispatching everything in a go or two. Ian happens to be the worlds best spotter which came in handy as I was pumped as shit by then, and was lobbing off problems with reckless abandon.
Thrutching.
I had originally been planning to follow some folks up Shoshone on Sunday been when Kevin Barnet Called to invite me down the Lochsa I immediatly flaked like a bum. Big spring run off, 75 degrees, and and a solid and mostly inebriated crew made for ideal conditions.
Props to captain Stu for the master navigation.
No flips + Schmidts + sunshine = victory.
You would bail on a multipitch.
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