Instead of getting insanely drunk and partying in the city, three of us decided to go on a quick climbing trip to Shelf Road above Cañon City. We drove up New Years Eve to an empty campsite prepared for the 9 degree low. We started a big fire, heated up homemade posole, (which I later learned is a Mexican tradition for NYE, to bring good luck!) and the fixings for some very strong margaritas. I did take photos of our camp set up, but it was so cold that my memory card decided not to write the information; yeah, it was that cold. With our bellies full, and the fire dying down, we all agreed that we didn't need to wait until midnight to celebrate, so we all tucked into our sleeping bags at 9:00pm.

We all woke up around 7:00am, throwing on all the layers we had, and started another fire. Patiently waiting for the coffee to percolate, we whipped up a breakfast with left over tortillas, eggs, and one very frozen avocado. We had a lazy morning waiting for the sun to warm the canyon walls and defrost our water. Once we took off a layer, we loaded up the packs with gear, beer, all the snacks, and began our approach. The base of the canyon was surprisingly warm and in no time we spread out all of our gear and hopped on the wall.

Everyone that we told we were going camping for New Years laughed at us, reminding us of the predicted temperature. Though we had to wear a lot of clothes and bring extra blankets and bags, it was the best New Years I've had to date. Instead of being hungover for the 1st, I woke up smelling like a fire, dirt everywhere, climbing limestone with two incredible friends (and Fitz the dog.)

The only downside to climbing in January is how short the days are. We climbed all afternoon and were forced to start packing up at 4:00pm as the sun dipped behind the canyon wall, taking the warm temperature along with it. A slow hike back to the cars, and an exchange of bear hugs were made before we went our separate ways once again. We couldn't help but feel thankful for the holiday we shared, and the lack of traffic on I-25 home.

The first week of November, my climbing partner Jordan and I ventured to Spain to meet up with one of our good friends from Argentina. We had all worked together at one point or another at a small ski resort in Colorado. Juan (our Argentinian) was living in Barcelona with his lovely girlfriend, Natalia. On a quiet Sunday we all packed up into our dirtbag mobile, an Audi A3, and headed into the Catalan Pre-Coastal Range. We zoomed through windy roads and weaved between cyclists, who apparently had a giant race to the top of Montserrat, our destination. We gathered all of our gear and started our approach up to our climb which consisted of way too many stairs through the forest, above the monastery.

We chose to climb Via del Carles, a 5.9 five pitch that went up one of the tallest monoliths in the Montserrat area. The weather wasn't quite ideal for a multi-pitch climb. It was real chilly with some powerful winds. Not a lot of photos were taken on the climb itself because we all tried to save our warm hands for the climbing.

From the top of the climb, we could see everything all the way to Barcelona. There were a few parties of climbers on other monoliths dancing around, partially for warmth and partially for the excitement of summiting. We ate our late lunch on our summit and rappelled off the back. Our decent was full of laughing and content as we watched the sun set and turn the sky orange right before a small rain storm.

Recently I had a conversation with a few friends about the concept of type II fun. Basically, type II fun is when you're miserable while it's happening, but it's fun in retrospect. I feel like I've experienced this exclusively in outdoor adventures. The weather can be against you, you could be struggling up mountain trails, or trying to get up a really difficult climb, cursing the gods for putting you in such a shitty situation. But... when you get to the summit of that hike, or to the anchors of that climb, you can't help but yell out, "Fuck yeah! That was amazing."