Webster Art

James and I drove down in early November arriving in two long days. Unlike previous years there was no snow. After shopping we drove in past the dead cows (free range land) and stopped at a new crag or crack called Y Crack simulator, which we led with many hangs. Later in the trip we came back and I got it with just one hang at the top. It’s a lovely blue splitter crack with a few fours at the top

Half a mile further is Blue Gamma, where we also climbed that day. The Creek is brutal in week one. If I were ever to get serious I’d focus on pull-ups or a crack machine before leaving home. James taught me a cool trick that I’d never paid much attention to. For each crag, the book gives you exact mileage from Newspaper Rock.

We camped with Wenatchee Dave and his friends Will and Abby. Later Anita and Collin joined the group on a trip to Pistol Whipped. Colin led this very friendly 9, or maybe an easy 10 right at the top of the trail. He leads 12 off widths, so it was super nice of him to hang this up for us. On TR I realized I could have led it with some aid at the top. There is a 10 called Jolly Rancher at the far right at Pistol. I need to get on that. Need two ropes and up to 8 each of yellows and blues.

Collin also put up a double fist 5.11 route, making it look easy. Both James and I suffered our way up that. Offwidth is a struggle bus but I am making progress on the learning curve. Anita, Collin and Abby got a cam stuck on a 5.12 offwidth and were up there with headlamps long after Will, James and I were safely down at the car. Those girls don’t stop climbing just because it’s getting dark. It became a pattern.

I played a few songs most nights. As usual I hesitate to “inflict” my out of tune singing on my new friends. But they seemed to enjoy it.

November 15, 2025. 

Dave had been there a week and got sick a few days after our arrival. We’d all been staying on BLM land at Hamburger rock. It’s a mile to a restroom and there are no picnic tables. When Dave left I decided I was done with roughing it and got a spot at our regular campground at the pasture.

We started hitting all the eights and nines, leading what we could and aiding the rest. I’d play every other night or so. One night I was playing Piano Man at our picnic table: guitar, voice and harmonica. James was already asleep in his Coleman popup tent. I had just finished the last verse when a young lady ( Maja 33 ) walked up out of the darkness to my table. This is her:

https://www.instagram.com/reels/DKNH4L8Oqmz

“Hello the campfire?”

“Hi.”

“Do I know you?”

“Probably not, I don’t know anyone here.”

“Was that you playing Piano Man?”

“Uh, maybe?”

“Well it sounded really good!”

“Ok, that was me. Oh, you brought a flute!”

“Yes, I’m not very good though, but I love to play.”

“Well shoot, let’s play something!”

“I would love that. I’m taking a break from working. I was walking to the rest room and heard you and had to come over, you sounded great!”

“Oh, thank you so much for saying that!”

She saw I had the music for In Spite of Ourselves, by John Prine and asked if we could play it.

The conversation continued along with several other songs she picked from my iPad collection. I told her how I thought  my voice was bad and she said I was wrong and had a lovely voice. Boy, I really needed to hear that. Sue, Craig and a few others have said my voice was bad. In my heart I thought my voice was at least OK. Or maybe it’s just that it feels so good to sing that I assumed my voice couldn’t be all bad. Dad was a choir director so you would think I’d inherit a little of his skill?

She had some wonderful advice about how I needed to believe in myself and not listen to what others had to say about my talent.

“I just got out of a long term relationship because he didn’t believe in my dreams. He would constantly criticize me and tell me my plans wouldn’t work. So screw those people, listen to your heart!”

 These were very philosophical thoughts for a dark and windy night around the campfire. I played a few more of my standards, letting my voice and harp ring out as best I could. Later when I got back to town I told Brian ( musician climber ).

“Mark, none of us has a professionally trained voice. I wouldn’t say you have a great voice, but you do have an ok voice that has a lot of character. Johnny Cash had an ok voice, but it had character”

Back to Utah: Turns out she knows meatloaf the cat and climbs at Squamish and Index with Maria, the cat’s owner. Small world!

At 12 days in I sent Y crack simulator and Mexican Unicorn with just one hang at top. That is not bad. James is still learning blues. He onsighted Batteries not included today. I flailed on TR. Ate sardines and sent (unsent) Unky Mark. It seems that unsending will be a thing as I age.

Anita, Colin, Will and Abby were very kind to hang lines for us that first week. She led this 9 at Trick or Treat crag and put in a directional so I could TR this 11 off width. I got to within 8 feet of the top, passing some very awkward double fist flares. Other than the 9 on the right, there is only one or two other routes there I can lead. One of them is off around the corner to the left and starts dead vertical up over a wedged block. I’ve top roped it a few times and could maybe get up cleanly. But really, Trick or Treat is not worth the hike for me. Small and or strong handed people like it.

We spent a couple days at Donnelly. I hung dog Chocolate again. I’d borrowed some fives from friends back home and felt duty bound to take them for a spin. This was supposed to be a demonstration of my hand stacking prowess. Instead, I pulled on cams most of the way.

Unlike some previous attempts I got up Generic Crack but ran out of gas more times than I can count. My rack for Generic was 10 yellow number twos, two blue number threes, and one 4. A 70 just barely gets you off. In a way, climbs like this are simply endurance training. I show up to the creek out of shape and get on routes over my head to train. Like if you want to get better at climbing hills, you go climb hills. Gradually you will get stronger. What doesn’t hurt you makes you stronger…blah, blah, blah.

Will and Abby had left so Anita came by looking for friends. It was predicted to rain but the clouds were slow to arrive. We hiked up to Cat Wall. She put up Tom Cat for us. I considered leading it but it looked like reds. Turns out I would have been fine, it was awesome hands, and where it was reds there were chimney moves. Gotta’ get on it next trip.

The rains rolled in for about 5 days so we bailed to City of Rocks where it was cloudy and cold! We got a few days of climbing in before I got tired of cold fingers. Turns out, the sun came back and it was 58 degrees at Indian Creek for a week as soon as I got home. We should have gone hiking and painting down there and waited it out.

Since I’ve been home I’ve stepped back into our routine of ping pong 3 days a week, plus climbing gym plus unicycle every other day for aerobics. I’m getting so I can launch off the fence and ride reliably. I can’t go farther than about a block before my thighs cramp up. But if there is something to lean on to start I can go half a mile.

After 34 years I finally painted my daughter. Why it took so long I have no idea. I think it may be my best portrait ever, and maybe my best painting too. It’s nice to have a hobby where you can keep getting better as you get older. Seems like all my other hobbies are on the downward slide with age.

We have a routine in our family where I walk into the kitchen (best lighting) with a new painting face down. They all know I paint, but I never tell them who I’m painting next. She knew she was the last immediate family member not painted, so it wasn’t a huge surprise, still, there was something tender in her voice:

“Oh, you painted me!” This was followed by a long pause while she studied it. Like her mother, she calls bullshit when she sees it. But what she said next was telling:

“It’s good, I think it’s good.”

After she left I took a photo and brought it in on a layer in Affinity Photo (Photoshop). When layered over the photo I saw that her chin was too tall and her forehead needed trimming. I’d used a 54 year old tube of Vandyke Brown mixed with white for the background. It was easy to make a few small adjustments and now I’m calling it done. I could tinker forever on things like the over done dramatic lighting and blonde hair, but it is so so touchy. Mixing skin tones is such a headache. To change even one shadow you have to feather in the change across half the face, which may alter the entire color scheme.

I started with vine charcoal because it erases easy. Once I had a reasonably close likeness I fixed it then painted her in blue. Picasso had a famous “blue period” where he did some lovely portraits in shades of blue. Look it up. He wasn’t always a crazy man.

I tried to segue into green shadows but it bombed. I wiped it down to charcoal and tried palette knife, which bombed. I was sorely temped to break the damn board in half. Instead I scraped off the knife work down to charcoal and started again. This was over several days and I was getting really frustrated. Finally something started to work. I was working mostly in monotone browns. No red, yellows or blues. Gradually I eased in some Cobalt blue into my Transparent Oxide brown and Transparent Oxide red, which is a brown but warmer. I used some Naples Yellow for the lights.

My mechanic sent me an email reminder that my Tundra was due for its 90,000 mile service. I looked it up and those can run up to $2700 if it also needs a brake job.

I drained and filled all three transmission components with the appropriate gear oil. I changed 8 spark plugs, they were original. I replaced the original pads and rotors on the rear, and the air filter. The brakes were done during one of those heavy rain storms we’ve been having lately. That was not fun.