Thanksgiving Climbing Memories & Stories: post it

Thanksgiving is a problematic holiday for many reasons. My own story take places on Sierra Miwok / Paiute land. Books like Braiding Sweetgrass and Tending the Wild are two ways I’m learning more. And supporting nonprofits that have projects and programs for indigenous communities in the park.

My story: 

Rainy Camp 4, November 2009. I was so hungry to climb in Yosemite that not even the grim weather forecast could keep me away. I had a week off from work in Sonora, what else was I going to do? I headed over the hill solo with no plan. Maybe you were there too? Like always in Camp 4, I met likeminded others dreaming of granite glory. We camped in the rain, hung in the boulders, drank coffee at the Lodge. I met this dude name Bronson who sat in his tent reading.

"Bronson"

"Yeah"

"Lets drive down the hill, I bet its dry enough for Short Circuit."

"What's that?"

"Its a rock climb. Lets go"

That's my Thanksgiving climbing story and the start of my friendship with the one and only Bronson.

What's yours?

My wife and I drove 14 hours each way, just to climb Devils Tower on Thanksgiving day. One other party on the opposite side is about all we saw. Had an apple and a protein bar for our T day feast and crack for dessert. The orange glow that lit up only half the tower on out walk out is a memory I’ll never forget. 

Rolled into Kingman Arizona after a couple of days in RR to meet up with some Americans (we're Euros) and invited for the legendary, world renowned and culinary highlight of Thanksgiving Dinner. 

Everything was shut except the truck-stop diner. Living proof you can make seven different ingredients the same colour; the same taste and serve them all lukewarm. 

No drinking while dining either.

Never again!

Zach Holtwrote:

....One other party on the opposite side is about all we saw....

Cool X-Ray vision!

Similar Thanksgiving experience on the Tower.  Great Group of friends.  Rapping in the dark under unbelievable starlit sky.  Could feel the magical energy thrumming all around us.  Felt one with the universe.  Completely understand why Native Americans considered it sacred.
experience I’ll never forget.  

Dude why do Euros love to hate Thanksgiving?

Its our least commercial holiday, it ain't all bad.

One of my memories: going to the climbing gym with my brother and watching someone z-clip and back clip on the same climb, 30 seconds apart. 

My favorite memory: staring out the window wondering if ski season or ice climbing season is gonna start first, as rock season is over before Halloween. I gotta move south (or north!) to get some turkey day climbing memories.

Ryan Kellywrote:

Dude why do Euros love to hate Thanksgiving?

Its our least commercial holiday, it ain't all bad.

Not sure if sarcastic or not... 

Fifteen years ago, the day after Thanksgiving (so may not officially count). While visiting my trans-planted in-laws in Mesa ,AZ.,I joined up with a few other visiting New Englanders and one former New Englander then residing in Phoenix for a trip into Lower Devil's Canyon. The former New Englander had a high clearance, 4WD drive vehicle of his own, but rented, what he obviously believed to be an expendable, one for the day. He took full advantage of this circumstance driving down the 'near vertical' talus field that pretended to be the approach road at quite 'impressive' speeds, and going back and forth through the mud puddles that occupied the few more level sections. Our adrenaline levels were likely off the charts by the time we reached the bottom. To our amazement, when we reached the parking area there were some other cars there, including one quite conventional sedan. The weather was fine and the climbing on the weathered tuff was great, but it was the ride in and out that has been seared in my memory. I'm glad I wasn't along when our friend returned the rental!!!

An even earlier Thanksgiving--1969, went into Katadhin, joining with a group mostly from the MIT Outing Club. Not much snow yet low, so we were able to drive in to the Roaring Brook parking lot, giving us a comparatively short hike, then ski, into the Chimney Pond cabins. We backpacked in with pre-cooked and carved turkey and the fixings enjoyed in the spartan comforts of the cabins, while spending the days hiking and Paul Ledoux and I trying out the then brand-new Chouinard ice tools (my memory is we had the hammers and crampons but no axes yet) for the first time on various bits of ice and immediately realizing that ice climbing was forever transformed. We got out just before the first big storm of the season hit, so avoided being trapped there for the winter!!!

Fine memories.  Alan Rubin

Last year tried to go to Bishop for Thanksgiving weekend, got about halfway up 395 and the fiance decided there'd be too much snow for her (shes a soft southern california girl). Turned around and got stuck for 13 hours on 15 south through Cajon Pass due to ice. I almost climbed out of my skin I was so pissed off but that's all the climbing that happened that weekend. 

My wife and I did eleven Thanksgiving camping/climbing/feasting trips in a row in Cochise Stronghold. The camping there is amazing, particularly on the West side. The weather was usually good but in two of the years it snowed - 2008 and I think 2010 or 2011? We still did some great climbing in those years. For all but the last year we were living in Tucson. It started with just us and two good friends from El Paso for the first one in 2008, though over time the numbers threatened to become unsustainable at times. Over the years we slowly transitioned from hair-raising Stronghold adventures while child-free and (relatively) young, to repeating the same 5.10s at Isle of You and Sweet Rock every year with a growing brood of babies and toddlers. The one constant was the food--a turkey cooked in the ground or in a crock-pot in the fire with bourbon and beer, an incredible variety of sides and pies, and good whiskey and crisp, clear stargazing walks to top the nights off and get the digestive track in gear. Quite possibly the best ten meals I've ever eaten.

After moving to Colorado in 2018 we managed to squeeze one more Thanksgiving trip in--number eleven. That trip was cut short when a rabid fox bit our two-year old in the campground. I guess that was a sign--sadly, we haven't made it back since. 

About a decade ago, I went to Red Rocks with my friend Trish (RIP) to join a big group. I made several new friends on that trip, as we shared a group site. Trish and I climbed a number of routes. She wanted to do a whole bunch in First Creek Canyon on those north facing walls (why?! but we did). We traded her knitted foot/ankle warmers at belays. I have those now as a keepsake, thanks to her brother (and they're functional, I use them). We had her dog and her cat with us on the trip, and the cat would stay in the car while we were out climbing. Every night we would leave the park and drive back in the dark to camp, and every night she had that cat her in her lap while driving, and she would be swerving around the road due to the cat. The first or second time this happened we got pulled over by a cop who obviously thought she was drinking. You could see in his face: "A cat? Yeah fucking right" but then he saw the cat and was like, ok, you get a warning. Don't drive with the cat in your lap. Next night: Trish puts the cat in her lap and we proceed to drive erratically again down the exact same stretch of highway....     

I met my friend Phil Bircheff during that trip as well; he and I would always be the last ones up at night, sitting around the fire. We had many far out conversations. 

My friend Irina came out from NYC that weekend too and stayed with us for a couple days before her boyfriend showed up. He was a Russian city boy and complained extensively about the smell of the porta potties. They then departed to a hotel where I got one free shower before going back to camp. :-) 

I met my friend Michael Ybarra on that trip too (RIP again). He was in the process of moving close to my home base at the time and we climbed many things in the year or two following before his untimely death.

Snowstorms, chilly pitches, rabid foxes biting two year olds, friends who have passed. All the classic holiday hijinks. Wait a minute. Rabid foxes?!? WTF? And I thought the Red Rocks Campground was rough...