The dirt on the Dirty Dirty South
Mainly I love the South for two reasons, fried food and southern rap. Outside those staples I don’t know much about this fantasy land that people call the dirty dirty. So, I called up my good friend and southern gentleman, Les Warnock
yesterday to shoot me the grit on Southeast climbing. Here it is…
Let’s talk about the dirty-dirty. While the weather is getting frigid in Colorado and your hands are too damn cold to even think about holding onto rock, the season is just now beginning in the good-old southeastern US of A. That’s right boys and girls, the temps are getting right, and I am getting psyched!
There are only two things that really matter here in Alabama, Natural Light and college football. Luckily I don’t really care about either, so I go climbing. For those of you that have never been around these parts before, good. Don’t visit. I think you’d be pretty disappointed at our endless amounts of glorious, beautiful, and may I say world-class, sandstone. Ok, well maybe not, but the rednecks suck. You never know when your going to get chased off a boulder field with shotgun pellets whizzing by your head at mach 3. Tell you the truth, the rock down here is shite, no-one likes it; its bullet hard nature makes your hands bleed, and that’s no good. So keep out of the South! Your upper-class climber attitudes aren’t welcome here… The movie Deliverance wasn’t fictional, just remind yourself of that. And for those of you that have been here, well, I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.
My schedule here is pretty grueling, I wake up and eat, go to class, eat some more, study, and maybe throw in a little training before I slip in between the sheets with a fine southern bell….wink, wink. The weekend comes and I am ready, the temps have been good all week while walking to class, and all I’ve been thinking about is pulling down. My redneck friends and I load up the car and split, two to three hours to one of the many fine destinations outside the plains where I live.
This weekend is the Triple Crown Bouldering competition at Horse Pens 40, and it should be a blasty blast. Big names and locals alike are dropping in and testing their skills on the BEST slopers in America. After parties with funnel cakes, deep-fried Oreos, corn dogs, plenty of Georgia beer, and Tennessee whiskey will only add to the fun. You might be thinking, “Well hell’s bells! Why ain’t you in the car heading that way right now?” Oh, I’ve got different plans this weekend. A few hombres and I are splitting to northern Georgia to a little boulder field called Rocktown. High prices and insane crowds are pushing us away from the competition at HP40. I’ve got two goals in mind: (1) Get drunk. (2) Send badass boulder problems. If that doesn’t sound like a good time you might as well never climb again, because you’re heading in the wrong direction.
So don’t worry Coloradites (or whatever you call yourselves), once the snow melts off in six months you too will be able to climb again. Have fun skiing down those little hills, breaking wrists, and screwing your self for the summer season. I’ll be enjoying the southern sun, crisp temperatures, and endless boulders in the heaven that is the dirty-dirty.
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