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Twenty four (and a half) weeks.

I’ve emerged from first trimester shock and am finally feeling human again- and could not be more thrilled to be starting a mini family. It took a little while to let the shock wear off- that I would not be going to Patagonia or the Waddington Range or Pakistan this year- instead I’d be nesting and nursing and working my butt off in a coffee shop. It might seem like a pill to swallow- finally finishing my IFMGA training, then finding it necessary to become a barista- but I couldn’t be more grateful. I am a resident of Canada now- which allows me to qualify for maternity leave (providing I put in those coffee slinging hours at the Zephyr cafe). Go Canada. I have the most supportive fiance one could imagine- I think he’s made for this (don’t tell him I told you that). And to top it all off, I have a little man growing inside of me who kicks and rolls and has all his fingers and toes. Its a pretty fun adventure. Not without its tribulations of course. You have to manage to navigate around all of the pregnancy “experts” who love to tell you about all of the horrible things you are subjecting your fetus too- like moving your bed and camomile tea and (the timid should now stop reading) forgetting a day of prenatal vitamins. The horror. And there is some truth to the whole swelling legs for pregnant women on their feet all day. Oh, to be guiding again and actually have some blood flowing through my veins. But, there are some definite pluses. Like excuses- the pregnancy excuse is awesome. Try crossing the street with a pregnant belly- all of the cars stop- and don’t even yell at you for j-walking. People bring flowers for your birthday party instead of wine that disappears that very night, and you get to eat more. Be careful about this one though- its a trap.

But truly we’re having a blast and psyched to see ourselves and the world through the eyes of our child. There is nothing like it so far and he hasn’t even popped out yet.

Kalymnos is pretty cool I guess. If you like the warm mediterranean ocean and climbing on huge jugs in overhanging terrain. The living is easy when you are not busy hanging off of stalactites. This simple town of Massouri could not be a more pleasant basecamp.

That said, there are some inconveniences. There are killer mosquitoes that barely make a noise and bite! It causes skin to well up into poison ivy like blisters that last up to a week. (Apparently they do not have the same effect on everyone.)

And the goats. Tim almost got rammed early in the trip. He slapped it on the ass as he was fed up with the raunchy smell and threat to human food. This, we learned, is not the proper tactic. The goat turned, bowed his head, and charged Tim’s gonads. Luckily, Tim’s cat-like reflexes allowed him to grab the projected horns and show the cud chewing beast who’s boss. But, it was a good lesson. From then on, we simply humored the goats with the odd banana peel and stayed away.

And then there’s the weather. Apparently this November has been the coldest in eight years. Poor Sean takes his first vacation in a year only to visit an island across the seas with only a little less rain than our home in Squamish.

Now this may sound like complaining. But as Dawn declared early on in our adventure, “anyone who complains here is a jerk.” So from then on nobody complained. We simply “stated facts.”

I would say that the crescendo of our trip came three days ago. When I on-sighted Ivi (7b), and thus inflated, hopped on the epic Priapus (7c). Sadly, this was an epic journey on a fabulous route, with only one problem- me. Somehow, Gravity chose this moment to flex its (very large) muscle, and I morphed from monkey into bird- flight can be just as fun as climbing sometimes. But my timing sucked. After Sean rescued me and put the rope up there, I got to top-rope it. Which felt easy! Not only because of his merciful belaying technique: it’s called “keep tension at all times because its getting dark and my girlfriend’s crazy.”

We awoke the next morning with all sorts of battle scars. As I’ve been saying, this island is brutal!
The climbing since then has been a bit rough. I tried a route I onsighted easily at the beginning of the trip and barely got up it. Somehow that Priapus gravity stuck. Or maybe it is all the cheese. The Greek eat a lot of cheese. A couple of our climber friends don’t eat cheese. This is not acceptable to the locals. You have to specify “please no cheese, and no feta” because they don’t consider feta to be cheese. This statement is about fifty percent effective.
But, I must say that it is hard to ignore the glaring fact that this place will make a sport climber out of anybody. Even Dawn, Sean, and I, three cold-weather, alpine loving fools, are beginning to rethink our specialty. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to just sport climb. Our destinations would shift from The Waddington, Patagonia, Pakistan, and Alaska to Sardinia, Mallorca, and at the extreme, Turkey. It might be a good prescription for health. The steep climbing feels like the best cross training ever. Instead of making the crimps smaller as you increase the grade, here the routes simply get steeper. My whole body gets pumped.

Despite all the hardship, I truly believe that we might have become better people and maybe even better climbers upon returning home. But if not, at least we’ll be fat and happy!

Rick and I headed up for a late August ascent of Mt Baker. The North side was not an option this year as the road has been destroyed by flood so we went South. I heard all sorts of rumors that the mountain was in unusually late season conditions due to the warm and dry conditions this summer. I was excited to see this part of the mountain that I hadn’t seen since my days of slogging for AAI in 2002. I could not believe how far we could ascend on rock. We did not touch snow until 6700′. And then there were not too many ways around the crevasses. The upper mountain was particularly broken up. For a couple crossings- I placed ice screws for a belay- and the upper headwall consisted of water pouring over ice.
It was incredible. But alas, the basic shape of the mountain remained familiar- and the long walk to the actual summit made me smile with memories.
Rick put up a good fight and thoroughly deserved the elation that came with standing on top.
He worked very hard to get there not just physically but by making time in his demanding schedule.
We topped off the trip with a lovely lunch in Bellingham before “real life” had to take over again . . .

I just joined this great campaign, Young Invincibles, that is all about mobilizing young Americans between the ages of 18 and 34 to stand up for health care reform.

I think you should join, too. http://www.younginvincibles.org/takeaction.html

The health care crisis in America is our crisis. We represent the largest group of uninsured in the country. And we are the ones most at risk of losing our coverage on account of layoffs, moving across state lines or just deciding to do that thing we always wanted to do.

I believe that mountain guides and outdoor workers in our society are some of those who most easily fall through the cracks. When I was first getting sick with a lung tumor- I knew that I needed a CAT scan- and did not go because I could not afford it without better insurance. I have also had Blue Shield of Idaho do everything in their power to drop me from their plan. We can stand up and make a difference in our country.

The debate in Washington is happening without us. It’s time we make ourselves heard.

Join me.

Climbing is important me as is making a positive difference in the world. Together we have an incredible opportunity to help save women’s lives.

Every foot I climb, every dollar I raise at the 8th HERA Ovarian Cancer Climb for Life Salt Lake City, UT will go to find a cure for ovarian cancer. This event takes place September 17-20, 2009. I am doing it for my mom, my girlfriends and all the women I know. Won’t you donate to honor your the women and girls in your life?

Ovarian cancer is the 4th leading cause of cancer death among women and kills more women than all the other gyn cancer combined. Money raised from this event will go to fund cutting edge Ovarian Cancer Research Grants at major institutions like Johns Hopkins and M D Anderson Cancer Center.

Can you help me fight this deadly disease by making a donation to my efforts? No amount is too small. Together we can make a difference and not only potentially save our mothers - but all women.

The HERA Women’s Cancer Foundation is a 501(c)(3) non-profit with tax ID # 71-0879772. All contributions are tax deductible to the full extent allowed by law.

Thank you for your support!

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