Journal — Raja Hamid

I was greeted in Las Vegas with heavy rains. At the airport, there wasn’t much to hide under while I waited for the midnight rental car shuttle to arrive. The shuttle driver told me it rarely rains, and I just missed quite a dry spell. I gritted my teeth and tried to stay optimistic. I wasn’t going to so easily accept that my two weeks alone was off to an unlucky start. My plan was to climb as much as possible, but I’d have to wait til the porous desert rock was dry enough. Wet sandstone crumbles like chalk, too dangerous to play on.

Even though it was Las Vegas, I noticed the air was unusually fragrant. I had just learned about petrichor and wondered if that’s what i was experiencing because of the rain. As I drove to a cheap hotel on the edge of town, I kept the window open just enough to not sever my connection to that air just a little longer.
When I pushed through the hotel doors, I was smacked with a heavy wave of old cigarette smoke. I dragged my bags of gear over the dusty carpet, squinting my eyes to find signs for a check-in counter. A maze of virtual poker tables and bright, flashy slot machines separated me from my room key.
The machines didn’t care that it was 2am, nor that it was a Tuesday. Neither did the handful of people sunken into plush leather seats, hoping to get lucky with each pull of the lever.

Fire Wave Trail

The next morning when I pulled back the blinds in my room, it was only more of the same steady rainfall. I had planned to explore Valley of Fire State Park on my way to Zion. I heard it was a beautiful drive and it seemed well worth the detour, even in these conditions.
After loading up on supplies at a Walmart, I entered the park and caught a break in the rain. That gap was long enough for me to get to the end of the popular Fire Wave Trail and back.

My timing couldn’t have been better. I shut the car door just as the first heavy drops of rain obscured the windshield. I checked my phone, still no service. I looked around at the paper map given by the park staff, taking guesses at where I’d be able to get a view of the sunset despite the storm clouds. I could see couples who I had passed on my way out, all rushing back to their cars, all soaked and kicking steps into the wet, sandy trail.

I wasn’t looking at my map for too long. An orange beam of light broke through the clouds from low in the sky, drawing us out of the parking lot a second time. That second wind of the storm was short-lived and we all enjoyed a quiet sunset.

As I drove out, I thought my trip maybe wasn’t off to a bad start. I took advantage of the place I was in rather than sulking about the weather, and it worked out just fine. Unfortunately, my plan the next day of driving to camp at the base of Signal Peak in Utah (10,365ft /3159m) didn’t like it was going to pan out.

There was already snow at the summit of Signal Peak, which I knew before arriving and that excited me. I packed my crampons and winter layers, ready to brace myself for below freezing temps.
Over dinner, I checked the latest forecast which warned of a major winter storm that would hit that night.
Still, I figured I’d get to the base of the mountain, Oak Grove campground, and see how far I could hike in the morning. As I drove higher into the woods along the single-lane dirt road, I felt more confident, until just half a mile before the campground/trailhead.
The snow was falling thick now and coated what I could make of the ground with my headlights. I could see the parking lot would be just above this last hill, but the slip indicator began flashing on the dashboard. I was slowly losing control and decided to quit while I was ahead, opting to turn around and park on a dirt pullout I had passed on my way up.

I reclined the passenger seat and called it a bed for the night. I knew Signal Peak was out of the question for tomorrow. On a good day, I’d need a pre-dawn start and hustle to make it back in time for what else I had planned. With over two feet of fresh snow, I’d be lucky if I made it a mile without snowshoes. I went to bed thinking that a day out here is better than a day in the office. I checked my phone again to set an alarm, grateful that there wasn’t any service here either.

After hearing about the damage and vandalism in Joshua Tree NP during the government shutdown, I was interested in supporting the Friends of Joshua Tree Climb Smart Festival. Ben and I both signed up as soon as tickets were available. It’d be my first time seeing Joshua Tree with the eyes of a climber, so I was really excited to get on some routes. The four-day weekend for me started off with a 5-hour flight delay on a red-eye. Not long afterward, I spilled a bunch of water on my camera. Despite all that, I was grateful to be in Joshua Tree doing what I love most.

It was clear that there's a lifetime of adventure in Joshua Tree. We didn't even scratch the surface. Here’s a window into what those four days were like.

Chillin, but tired from our lack of sleep. Ben arrived at around midnight, and I landed six hours later. We drove the three hours immediately after to arrive to this point.

This was one of the guides running clinics. I disagreed with some of the things he said about dyneema being a pain, but didn't want to be a smart-ass so I kept quiet!
Ben and I bailed on the clinic and led some easy routes nearby. He later came over to us and kept insisting that we should free-solo the routes to experience a different state of mind. I passed on the suggestion, but I know what he's talkin about. Later noted that his IG bio read "Born nekid! Living free! Will die young!"

Fun fact about monzogranite (the rock that makes up most of J-tree). It's quite rough and abrasive. Expect to lose some skin. Popular routes that get climbed on smooth out, but apparently if you were to leave a route untouched for about a year, the sun and wind would end up making it rough again.

This was our second lap at a really fun route: Fote Hog. It was so good that we decided to do it twice (each of us getting a lead). I'd highly recommend trying a route again after finishing it. I had more fun on the second climb than I did on the first. It really gets you out of the 'tick list' mindset and instead focuses you on the joy of the movement.

Lots of Joshua Tree routes have walk-offs over mounds of rocks, which made me nervous. I was worried about getting lost since there's no clear 'trail'. We did get lost, but only for two mintues. I thought about how embarrassing it'd be to activate my rescue beacon only to realize we were 20 feet off trail.

We hung out at the summit for a bit, and I got just enough service for a call (only if I stood at the very top). I Facetime'd Leah so she could check out the scene too.

We weren't planning to do any bouldering, but while waiting for Joe to show up, we found some rocks to play on. I was hesitant to top out because we didn't have a crash pad, so I down-climbed by reversing my moves.

We found two guys from San Diego (Justin and Austin) who were new to climbing but coming out often to try their hand at some J-tree bouldering.

So apparently this is a game. Looks bizarre but it was quite fun. Teams are pairs of two, and ideally you're comfortable touching each other (as you can see from the photo). The first person has to have at least one 'body part' behind the line and at most two body parts in front of it.
The second person 'climbs' over their partner to set a water bottle as far as possible. Afterward, they climb back to their starting position behind the line. At no point can the second partner make contact with the ground. Then, the first partner needs to 'reset' themselves behind the line without fallling.

It's an extremely exciting game to watch. Oftentimes, a team will completely collapse.

Ben and I looking back at the climb we just did to warm up. No matter what the grade, the first pitch of the day is always one that makes me nervous.

Relationship troubles

The right-most diagonal is a 5.3 climb that Ben and I warmed up on the day before. It starts about halfway up on the ledge after some easy scrambling.

From another route, I could see a couple was climbing it; the leader had just gotten to the top, built an anchor and yelled that he was off belay. His follower couldn't hear him well, so that back and forth went on for a few more exchanges. I focused back on the route I had ahead, and my partner Cody said he wanted to head back to the car and grab some climbing tape for his hands.
A half hour later, just before I'm about to start climbing, I hear some more yelling....
**Guy**: Are you climbing!?
**Girl**: No I'm on the ground!

The leader had extended himself out quite a ways and was hanging over the lip of the rock, probably to get better audio communication. I looked for his partner on the ledge that she was on earlier. I didn't see her. Then I noticed that she had completely walked off and was on the ground, yelling back up to him.
**Guy**: What do you mean you're on the ground!?
**Girl**: I'm on the ground!
**Guy**: Are you tied into the rope?
**Girl**: No, I'm on the ground!
**Guy**: Why are you on the ground? I'm hanging off the edge of a cliff!
**Girl**: Why are you hanging off the edge of a cliff!?
**Guy**: ...
Cody and I looked at each other and realized this couple was going to have an awkward ride home.
An hour later I looked over to the route and could see the leader halfway down, rappelling and cleaning gear, about 20 or more feet from the fall line of the rappel.

Joe doing his best impression of a Joshua Tree. He said his goal for this year was to hold a handstand for 10 seconds. This attempt lasted 6 seconds. I was impressed, but he insisted he's usually better.

Joe took us into the Chasm of Doom in Joshua Tree, a tight squeeze cave that cuts through the center of a huge pile of rocks. It was close to sunset when we started, but fortunately he knew the way through.

This was a traverse where we'd shimmy across, while holding our breath to become as 'small' as possible. Underneath our heels there were drops of about 20 feet, but it'd be impossible to fall through. You're more likely to get stuck in place. This wasn't even the smallest cavity that we pushed through. There was another spot called “The Birth Canal”

On the other end of that traverse we popped out onto a comfortable ledge, the kind of ledge where we'd be tethered into if we were climbing.

One of the many squeezes of the evening. Joe told us not to wear anything delicate (e.g., a puffy). I wore a slick windbreaker, which I think may have helped me 'slide' through some of the constrictions better.

This was one of the more impressive views, but only from afar. If you take a few steps forward, like Ben did, you'll be greeted with a parking lot. Sometimes ignorance is bliss.

That rock will fall someday. Geologic time includes now. Hopefully it happens when no one's in the cave. Joe mentioned that some of the local guides try to 'hike' through the Chasm of Doom at night without headlamps, relying only on feel and memory.

Sometimes the timing works out perfectly, without prior planning. Any earlier and we would've missed the desert glow. Any later and we would've been caught in the dark (an idea for next time maybe!).

We met Joe at the climbing festival and he offered to drive Ben back to LAX on Sunday night, since he was headed that way. My flight was on Monday, so this meant I could stay an extra day.
Joe had been doing the clinics and after that was all done, he was eager to do some "real climbing" as he called it. We made ourselves a rope team of three and found a route.

The last hour of sunlight in Joshua Tree is my favorite. No one else is around and it seems unreal to have this playground all to yourself.

Ben climbing up Mike's Books. I took advantage of the fact that Joe was there: I asked him to belay so I could wander around and get a better look at the route.

I hadn't climbed with a stranger before, but on Monday I needed a partner and went to the local Facebook group.
Cody was also looking for a partner, and had been to Joshua Tree several times this year. In his post, he claimed to be a 5.9 trad leader.
We paired up and met Monday morning. I would later realize that he couldn't climb any of the 5.7 routes I led without falling several times. I could not at all figure out how he came to the conclusion that he was climbing at 5.9.

When we stepped out of Cody's car, I noticed he was in flip flops. I figured he knew what he was doing, but within five minutes, his flip flop ripped and he had to hike with a mix of climbing shoes and bare feet.

Before we left the car, I asked if he was going to take his helmet, which he left in the back seat. He said no, but I could use it if I wanted to. He later asked me why I climb with a helmet and if I've found it useful.

He didn't seem to know how to coil a rope properly, so he ended up carrying it like a baby, sprawled across his arms. Pair that with a to-go coffee cup that he held in his mouth, and a gallon water jug in his hands and I was starting to realize this dude was a bit of a mess.

To top it off, when we got to the bottom of the first route of the day, I asked him to flake out the rope. After doing so on a precariously placed boulder over a 30ft drop, he accidentally kicked the rope pile over into the gap below us. Fortunately, he was able to crawl down to get it [pictured].

My concerns over whether he could belay started when he didn't understand why I was checking the system before climbing. "I just go for it" he said. He couldn't understand why I asked him to tie into the end of the rope, but did it anyway. Later on in a different route, we noticed that he loaded his belay device incorrectly. This is why we do checks...

Cody took the first photo of me while I was leading up Double Cross (5.7+). The first 20 feet are unprotected. Someone died a few years ago falling off from that unprotected section. I think he didn't have a helmet. I was able to find a clever way to clean and back clean the start (#4 on the big undercling and a #3 in the crack), but it sure did stress me out. Once I got into the crack it was smooth sailing.

I onsighted what was my hardest climbs to date by grade, but it was exactly my style: hand and fist jams. Usually there's a line to get on the route, but we had no wait because we were the only people willing to climb it at high noon with the sun shining directly on us. After coming to a nice rest and placing a piece, I thought it'd be fun to look back and take a photo at what I'd done so far.

When I look out on these rocks, I see playgrounds similar to what I played on as a kid. Endless routes and adventures in the crevices between these boulders.

All the tools needed for a sweet adventure. After returning the car, I laid out everything and tried to figure out the best way to pack my things for the flight. At the climbing festival, I won a pair of shoes, two hats, a shirt, a a backpack, and several other items so I was coming home with more than I started.

So glad I went to the Joshua Tree Climb Smart festival. It was my first climbing festival and my first time immersing myself in a climbing community. We have festivals out in the east coast but they all feel way too crowded. If you’re newer to climbing, you’d get a lot out of the clinics in a festival.

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Valley of Fire State Park

Joshua Tree - Climb Smart Festival