It's hard to convey what makes these adventures worth the time and effort. To visit these places requires a Wind River Reservation fishing permit, a long windy drive up a potholed road, and a full day's effort with or without pack horses to get in, and another full day of hiking to get out. Jesse made the trip from Seattle. I drove up from Grand Junction, and we both did it twice. We did it because it is worth it. The exploratory aspect, the romance of heading into the mountains for days to see what you will find, the slightly hallucinatory effect that this much wilderness, nature, scale and solitude can have on you. The fun bouldering feels like an incredible bonus. If you're interested in seeing my packing list for an expedition like this, I put it at the end of this post.
Lloyd Climbing Blog
Tuesday, July 8, 2025
A Tale of Two Expeditions, and my packing list.
Saturday, June 28, 2025
Rocklands, South Africa 2021
The quartzite at Rocklands is so climbable! This one medium sized block has eleven steep problems on it. And the stone is so solid. Everything I tried was high quality fun!
We visited a lot of different zones and I got some photos I like. Here's Ilah climbing "The Roof is On Fire"
Thursday, August 8, 2024
Time in the Desert
It’s obvious that time, wind, and water cut through the landscape at different speeds. You can see it in the rocks. As a society, we’ve decided in advance that time is constant. That it ticks away at a constant rate just like a clock. But clocks are the only thing that change at a constant rate, they were artificially contrived to do so after centuries of tinkering, and even the most perfect clocks are subject to the effects of relativity. Time is a useful idea for science and capitalism, but not nearly as useful in the desert. Things change. Often in a predictable direction, but never at a constant rate out here. The canyon bottom will barely change for two years, then the rains suddenly wash in, all the sand and rocks get moved around, and for years there will be a new log stuck in place across the canyon gap thirty feet above the stream bed. Things don’t change at constant rate for people either. Children grow at different rates, a new wrinkle shows up as a surprise.
But change never completely stops for us, and we can imagine that if there was a place where the wind never stopped people would find it useful to think of the wind as a constant. They would design a sensitive windmill and count exactly how many revolutions it would take to push a sailboat a certain distance. Their experiments with a sensitive and standardized windmill would be repeatable and useful, but would say nothing about the underlying assumption the society had made about the wind. Only a traveller who visited a new place, a place where the wind was so weak as to be imperceptible could realize that their society’s assumption was just a useful illusion. That traveller would see that the wind isn’t constant. And as a desert traveller you can see that time is like the wind. Time blows us around like chaff, while the stone stands still.
Yes, the stone stands still from our perspective. But if we could be the wind itself, moving the sand from place to place, scouring the stones with our energy, seeing them shrink, collapse and turn into sand dunes over the eons, we would know that the rocks are ever changing. The wind is time to the stone. Time without the wind affects it not at all, and the wind has all the time in the world. Ann Zwinger said it best “The rock changes, the channel changes, the wind just carries air from one place to another, more constant than the rock. The rock is ephemeral, the wind, eternal.” We are so ridiculously ephemeral in comparison to this landscape. Ephemeral enough to see the boulders stand still, put up climbs on them, and watch another generation climb on them too.
Tuesday, September 26, 2023
Bouldering in the Wind River Range PDF is now available!
It's been bothering me that my guidebook to Sinks Canyon, Devil's Kitchen and Sweetwater is out of print. So I found a way to make a pdf available on Patreon for just $5.00 Have a great time out there!
Tuesday, February 21, 2023
Life on the Road (Late Summer 2022)
I miss bouldering blogs. And I think you should be the change you want to see in the world. So I've decided to start blogging again.
We had the plan for years. To sell the house in Fruita, and give nomadic life a shot once the girls were finished with high school. To find out first-hand if Ashley and I really could dramatically cut our costs, and spend years on the road, by selling our house and not buying a new one for a while. But I never could have envisioned how the plan would end up happening. That our marriage would fall apart before the plan could take effect, the two years stuck holding together broken pieces of what we'd built while working through the divorce, or that I would still end up following our original plan by traveling alone. I'll explain more in upcoming posts. But for now just know that I've been living with a truck, without a house, since mid-August, and that I'm enjoying it. There's a lot to write about, let's start with my first coupleThe first day felt really strange after leaving the house closing. Normally I'd just drive home after getting my errands done for the day, but I had no home to go to. It was hot in Grand Junction. Way too hot to hang out in my truck or sleep anywhere close to town. But I couldn't leave for Wyoming, or the mountains, quite yet. My adventure buddy Josephine was flying in the next day for a backpacking trip into the San Juans. We had planned it together before I knew when my house would close. "Who is Josephine?!" and "How did David become her adventure buddy?!" It's quite a story, too long for this post.
I needed elevation. So I decided to drive up into the Book Cliffs north of town. The air was cooler up there. But when I opened my food bin, everything in it was absolutely covered in melted chocolate. The first of many lessons I've learned living on the road. You can't keep chocolate bars in a food bin in summer. So pack Peanut M&M's instead.
Dramatic lightning surrounded me in the truck that first night in the Book Cliffs. But the storms all went around me. I took it all in. A beautiful moment, a good omen, an exciting start to the adventure.
The San Juans were absolutely gorgeous! Some of the most beautiful scenery I've ever seen. And it felt triple good to be up there. For one, I was backpacking with friends in one of the prettiest places on Earth. Two, I was starting a very large new adventure of undetermined duration. And three, I wasn't stuck in a classroom stressed out about the upcoming school year. These three conditions stacked up into a huge pile of gratitude deeply felt. It rained some, but we were never caught in it without shelter. Good times, a great trip!I made a couple trips deep into the Winds to get cooler conditions and do some exploration.