Traumzeit: Sandstone Dreamtime

I place a sling around a chicken head and clip a draw to it. By the time it’s attached to my rope, it’s below my feet. The fear cools, and I laugh to myself. Absurd. Just get to the first ring. It’s some fifteen meters above me still, and below, my belayer patiently stands on a small ledge.

Titanas im Elbtal

A women’s climbing workshop in the Elbe River Valley. We exist in a world full of doors; some are open, some closed, and some locked. Anyone can peer through an open door, gather up the strength, and step through. A Titana unlocks doors, opens them, and strides through. The aim of this workshop is not to open doors, but to practice lock picking together.


I left my draws on Le Poinçonneur des Lilas and have a dual project. I want to be able to both climb the route and pronounce its name. Laying in my tent this morning I went through the moves in my head, I haven’t tried that hard on anything since February… or maybe April. I have until 1pm to work, then I’ll head back to my tent to eat some lunch and prepare some snacks to bring up the hill. My hands are tingling with excitement.

Dreaming at Noon

I distinctly remember, in April 2002, standing on top of the rim facing Picnic Lunch Wall. My dad and I drove past Smith when I was 11 and watched spring snowfall in light flurries on the gorge. I don’t even think I climbed that trip, but I know I learned the names of a few routes… 5 Easy Pieces, Darkness at Noon, and I know I dreamt quiet little dreams of someday being a speck on that sheer wall.