House of the Devil Mountain
February 1, 2009
From the plane it was an incredible jumble of rocks, surrounded by sparse forest and remote dirt roads. As I climbed through the rocks, I realized why it was named as it was--the namer must have been trying to get to the top--or merely get from point A to point B. The oversize boulders made it hard to see, so that I couldn't see the right way to go until I was up close and personal with the wrong way. This made it take twice as long as I expected. Also, the size of everything made it take twice as much effort, so I had to stop more often to rest. There were no direct routes. All were roundabout ways--through that bush, under that rock, through that crack, over that rock. It made it very frustrating to make forward progress--especially for a goal-oriented person. Often, the best way--or the only way--was a route I'd never normally consider. Often involving bushes. Through a bush. Between a rock and a bush. Now I'm not quite sure how I'll get down... the way I came up is really not attractive at all. Did I mention the decomposing granite? Everything I touched crumbled. My hands were raw. And the dynamic moves--I was constantly having to do them to jump across or reach across some chasm. In fact, that is why the going was so painfully slow at first, because until I realized I had to constantly do dynos, there were a lot less options and all were very slow and roundabout. Difficult country. Exhausting travel. The way down was easy--only 30 minutes to the car. I followed my path up almost exactly--but the path up took three times as long. Got away from that devil!
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