With the incredible weather, beauty of the area, and even the amount of people, this place brings together a group of motivated pleasant people. Other than the occasional outburst at Iron Man, there was never a large gathering of yelling shirtless dudes anywhere at the Buttermilks. It probably has something to do with the delicate footwork, high top-outs, and small gritty crimps.
I've climbed on a lot of rock that is more solid, but I still don't know of anywhere that is better than Bishop. It's very easy to say this in retrospect though, with my ankles intact, and while I'm staring at a computer screen instead of shaking on some "easy" top-out.
I made Patrick take a picture of me 'for Mom.' "Continuing boldly" -per the description, to the top of Grandma Peabody on the north face direct.
Stormy evenings, but nothing ever materialized near us.
Patrick on the Hunk.
The wasteland that is the Happys.
This may be my last roll of film for a little while. I finally sucked it up and bought my first digital camera.