It’s been two and a half months since my family entered lockdown for COVID-19. I pulled the kids out of school on March 11th, a week before we entered the Twilight Zone. At the time, things felt relatively normal, and I would get weird stares as I shopped for groceries wearing my N99 respirator. Everyone had heard about the novel coronavirus by that point, but it was a problem affecting China and Italy. Later that day, the WHO declared the virus to be a global pandemic, and things snowballed fast. Our governor issued the state lockdown order on the 19th (how appropriate) and the GTPFS was full steam ahead. That’s the Great Toilet Paper and Flour Shortage of 2020.
Eighty days later, and everyone is going stir-crazy at home. I’ve gotten out on some local hikes, we ride bikes and go for walks around the neighborhood, but this is barely cutting it to stave off the lockdown insanity. At the same time, my family is healthy and safe, we are financially stable, and I have nothing to complain about. I might whine a little, but I won’t complain.
Thankfully, I have a close-knit group of family and friends that are all taking things seriously. We’ve been practicing a fairly strict version of social distancing and are slowly experimenting with get-togethers in our driveways and backyards. We are young(ish) and healthy, and the odds that any of us have become infected is pretty low. As more information becomes available about how the virus spreads, who is at risk, and what the treatments options are, we are feeling more comfortable stepping outside our bubbles and mingling, as long as we take certain precautions. I’m an introvert and I don’t mind being alone, but I also love to spend time in the outdoors with the people that I care about, to share in the adventure and the experiences that make life so wonderful. If you peruse the trip reports on this site, the overwhelming theme is one of bonding and friendship.
All that being said, we are unquestionably in a gray area, right now. Our state’s shelter-at-home order is still in effect (though fewer and fewer people seem to be following it – myself included). Restaurants are opening back up, there is actually traffic on the roads, and people are getting back to work (if you are one of the lucky ones who still has a job). If you squint your eyes just right, things are almost starting to feel normal again. But, of course, this is not the case. We have 99,000 fatalities, Depression-level unemployment, and there is really no end to this in sight. At the time of the lockdown in California, there were roughly 15,000 confirmed cases across the country, and fewer than 200 deaths. Now, 2 months later, we are approaching 2 million confirmed cases and 100,000 deaths. By any ostensible measure, things are far, far worse today, than they were before. The virus is everywhere, percolating through our communities, yet we remain far from achieving herd immunity. The economy is in tatters, and people do not have the patience or the economic means to continue this mitigation strategy. The virus won’t magically disappear during the summer, despite what some may think. The only thing that will prevent this from becoming a far greater catastrophe is if people continue to practice social distancing and use masks religiously in public. This works, and has been shown to be an effective way to prevent the spread in other countries.
So, if this is going to be the new normal, we decided we’d test it out. Is climbing with a mask feasible? Just how good is liquid chalk? If you’re cruxing and need to pull rope to clip, can you resist biting it with your teeth? The two Jasons in this story will confirm that the risk of COVID was far from their minds when confronted with the reality of taking a whipper with a ton of slack out. One must keep risks in perspective, after all. Both Jasons can also confirm that the risk of rolling one’s truck takes precedence, as they drove down a staircase made of refrigerator-size boulders. One Jason ripped his mask off in an effort to see better, while the other Jason jumped out of the vehicle and offered to “walk the line” which really meant, “I’m getting out of here before I get crushed in a rollover.”
I hate writing in the third person, but I haven’t figured out how to retell these trip reports, when so many Jasons are involved.
On what was supposed to be Andy and Myia’s wedding weekend in Yosemite, three of us decided to drive out to the Valley of the Moon and camp for a night. It was definitely bittersweet that they wouldn’t be able to join us, but I have a feeling we will all celebrate sometime in the future, when things (hopefully) get back to normal. The anticipation of getting out of the house, touching some real rock, and a temporary escape from all the stress and weirdness of the last two months was incomparable.
I think we were all curious what sort of climbing shape we’d be in. The Majestic has been adhering to a rather dedicated workout regimen at home, and I remarked that I hadn’t seen such alluring biceps since I last perused Alex Puccio’s Instagram feed. Cy’s always in decent shape, it seems, but looks can sometimes be deceiving. I went into this trip in a poor state of fitness, having sustained a shoulder injury in the early days of the shut down, and I haven’t done much at all, other than eat and drink.
I usually discover something new about myself on climbing trips like these. On this trip, I learned that it is rather difficult (impossible) to solve the crux of an 11d face climb, especially when you thought you were starting up a 10, have not warmed up your injured shoulder, haven’t climbed in 3 months, and, oh, a group of yahoos below are firing their semi-automatic weapons in the immediate vicinity, while shouting casual threats that they may begin shooting in your general direction, if you don’t like it. It was all a bit distracting, I suppose. It’s a story best shared over drinks at a campfire.
One of the best parts of the weekend was just hanging out at camp. It was the first time any of us have been away from our kids for any extended period of time, and that was, quite frankly, MAGICAL. We love our kids and we are dedicated dads, but let’s face it, everyone needs some time away to clear their heads and relax. The Valley of the Moon is BLM land and it draws all sorts of interesting people (see above) and that’s one of the reasons it’s so nice. No campground reservations, few rules, and it’s usually fairly desolate. I don’t know if word got out about this area, but it was actually pretty crowded out there, which was disappointing.
We ate one of the finest camping meals in recent memory. Cy cooked up an appetizer of brussels sprouts tossed in hot sauce and we made some delicious steaks over my new Solo Stove. We did a reverse-sear using a cast iron pan and then flash-seared them over the campfire, which was registering over 900 degrees. Tossed them back in the pan with some rosemary, garlic, sage, and butter and then enjoyed those with some hand-cut fries courtesy of The Majestic. An absolutely amazing meal.
