D A Y • N I N E • T H E • M O J A V E • D E S E R T
“Dude didn’t we just pass that bush?” Literally the most dead part of the country is right here near Death Valley. No service, unpaved roads, and lots of military radio dishes aren’t the only thing, but abandoned towns are quite popular. Just a note, if you do plan to go there bring lots of water.
Even when you don’t understand what God is doing. Even when you are about to throw in the towel on your journey of faith. I pray you stay the course. When it becomes too much to stand, kneel. God has you. If you reach for Him, He will reach back. God bless you all on this day.
My recent days have been trying but making lemonade from lemons is the only way...The wood-fired oven & I are becoming well aquatinted! From flatbreads to 19 hour slow-cooked Beef Short Ribs; I think we are warming up to the future relationship. -even when “it’s “ bad, “It’s” still really good-
@cyclinghouse#cheflife 🔪 #thedesert#sunsets
“At 40 I always thought
I would write something
I thought I would incite something
I thought I would enlighten someone,
But here I am
In Indian Creek
Just a writer
Just a climber
They say you gotta pick your battles
Now I know
Mine is finally here
Without this here
Just a dot on a rock
That can’t get all my rocks off
On the dot com ’Cause, here, and only here
Here, and only here
I see the way.
I see sea to shining sea
In This land that used to be the sea
Here, I see Me.
I see a world moving along at the speed of need and greed
And when we’re out here we move along at the speed of need
This land is the only way I’m thinking this way
The only reason I’m not heavily drinking today
Or in some jail cell, in some place so far away ◾️
From my poem Just a Climber, For Bears Ears, which will be published in The Desert. Link in bio to learn more about the book and pre-order a copy. ▪️
“One day, we were doing some filming on a Dean Potter climb called Salt Lake Special at the 4x4 Wall, and we met this character named Alan Carne. He just kind of came out of nowhere, and he was at the wall by himself. I love that about climbing—you never know what kind of character you’ll get to meet on any given day.
Alan was British but lived in France. He name-dropped some climbers, and of, course, we had friends in common. He was wiry and short and overly enthused, which he had written all over him. He ended up camping with us that night, and the next day my partner for climbing bailed, so he agreed to climb with me while Greg filmed.
Meeting Alan at this time was godsent. He had been climbing for forty years, starting when he was fifteen on the gritstone cliffs of England. The son of a poor single mother, he would bike forty miles to these cliffs that lie above Manchester. He learned to tie a bowline knot from a local library and climbed on a sailing rope, using hip belays. When he really got into climbing, he was living on the doll, which provided about twenty dollars a week. He and his comrades would sleep in caves and all other sorts of strange places—even bathrooms if it came to it. “They were dark times,” he told me. “The good ol’ days weren’t always that good.” 🔳
Words by @lukemehall from The Desert. We’ve got over 100 backers and still have a long hard climb ahead - link in bio to check it out.
Some Photos by @greg.cairns others courtesy of @carneycrankalot ◾️