Angel's Fright on Tahquitz Rock

Oops, it's the end of July. Here is another installment in A june that dreams were made of.

I'd known of the Tahquitz since early in my climbing career when I still lived in Los Angeles, but as a beginning climber with only sport climbing gear and experience, I was intimidated by this classic granite multipitch crag. After having led on gear in Red Rocks, Joshua Tree, Indian Creek, Donner Pass, and even at Owens River Gorge, it felt silly that I had not yet climbed at this "local" crag.

I met Leslie of Dynamite Starfish in Bishop during the Women's Climbing Festival in 2016. In a recent interview, Leslie reminded me that we met for the first time when I walked up alone and crashed her and her friends' bouldering session in the Buttermilks.

We met again at the WCF in Bishop this year (though I didn't have a ticket because my clicking fingers weren't fast enough), and further bonded over Los Angeles, making stuff, and the desire to trad climb. I knew that I would be in Los Angeles for writing workshops, so I contacted Leslie about climbing together in Tahquitz.

We met for a session at Hollywood Boulders, our only indoor-climbing experience together, and she told me she was interested in Angel's Fright, a 400-foot route on the West Face. Not too hard, not too long, good belay ledges. Yes, yes, yes, yes.

While I'm wary of making long drives for day trips, and especially ones with what seem like small objectives in the age of 3,000-foot long free solos, it's all a matter of scale.

In the days before the climb, the carbon-footprint conscious (also: anxious) part of me wondered whether it was silly to drive from Garden Grove to Riverside and then on to the San Jacinto Mountains for just a day trip. Leslie assured me that "daytrips to Tahquitz happen!" And in fact, that is how most climbers do it. So, on a Thursday morning, I woke at 5:30am, made coffee, and got myself on the road.

Getting to the base of Tahquitz climbs requires a 45-minute uphill hike, known in climbing terms as an "approach." I felt prepared to haul our rack and food and water up the hill after my recent years working as a backpacking instructor, but I tend toward the slow-and-steady. Thankfully, Leslie did not rush us.

A party of three got there before we did and so there was a bit of waiting as they got on their way. Leslie linked the first two pitches, which my 70-meter rope did not quite give comfortably. I had to simul-climb about 15 feet off the ground in order to get her to the belay ledge. Others had said that a 70-meter rope could make it; perhaps I just wasn't heavy enough to create the necessary rope stretch?

Racking up at the top of the second pitch. Taken by Leslie.

I had a difficult time sorting out the next pitch; I found myself crawling through spiky, gnarled trees unnecessarily and having to backtrack to get back on-route. Route-reading is one of the main parts of multi-pitch climbing that intimidate me, much more than the exposure or height. I found a shadier belay just 50 feet or so from where I began, so Leslie encouraged me to lead the final section, which included a slabby finger crack that I had a great time on.

It was a long day, with a lot more hiking than climbing, but so things go when starting out with a new skillset (and maybe also when you're in your 30s while doing so).

Summit haikus. Always check out the summit register!

It was amazing to go climbing with someone with whom I had so many shared values and relatable life experiences. I felt particularly grateful for our day together because I had just had a night of feeling, once again, great sadness and frustration from the divide between me and my immigrant parents, between what they wish for me and what I wish for myself.

I was close to canceling on Leslie, but then-- what would the day have held? Just more wallowing in negativity, guilt, frustration. Might as well make the drive, hike in the heat, climb with the sun's glare reflecting off the bright granite, stand on a summit, spend time among the pine trees. Most importantly, if I had stayed home, I would have missed some incredible conversations about all the things.

I drove back to my parents' house incredibly grateful for the experience. Kind of euphoric, actually. Connection is the best drug.

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Since that day, I've made good on my promise to myself to get out and climb, with recent bouldering trips to Mt. Tamalpais, Castle Peak, and Tuolumne. Looking forward to the weather cooling down and to getting on ropes again.

Walking Past Rattlesnakes

The rattlesnake lay partially coiled on the right side of the trail, still making faint sounds of wariness and irritation when Miho started hiking again. "Do you want me to go first?" Elizabeth asked as I hesitated.  I looked up at her, then promptly turned and walked past the snake as it slowly slid around the small boulder and descended the hill, making its way out of sight.

We were about halfway through our 5-day backpacking trip along the Grand Canyon of the Tuolumne River. We had started from White Wolf and would finish at Tuolumne Meadows. It was late July. It was hot. It was rattlesnake season. The El Portal Fire was still burning through thousands of acres though we didn't see much evidence of it in the sky. We were a group of eleven women of color from age 22 to 53, brought together by Balanced Rock Foundation for this backcountry journey, on the tenth anniversary of these women of color trips. The claim is that it is the only trip of its kind in the country.

I know that there are women of color leading other women of color on trips in the backcountry in the United States, but it seems that the Balanced Rock trip is indeed the only institutionally-led and supported one.

Maybe it's because I grew up in an immigrant household-- not only an immigrant household, but a refugee household-- that I had not considered working in the outdoors, or even backpacking recreationally. It was never in my range of vision. I didn't see it as a possibility for me. From outdoor exploration camp in sixth grade to team-building high ropes courses through college and beyond, I cannot recall a single counselor or instructor who was a woman of color.

That's not unusual, of course. Everyone has different interests, different vocations, different ways that they recreate, different places they want to spend their leisure time. The practice of carrying 30-40% of your bodyweight across long distances in remote places is understandably not commonly appealing across any demographic. And taking such journeys is far from the only way to recreate outside, nor is it necessarily a more valid way of experiencing nature than to spend an afternoon in a regional park.

I don't think everyone should go backpacking. I don't think everyone needs to try rock climbing. But what I recognize now that I think about my journey into outdoor education is that these activities were on the edge of my subconscious. Like the students I watched walk back and forth in front of the LGBT Resource Center office at UC Irvine, apprehensive about walking in. But I knew that I could walk into the LGBTRC. I saw people like me in there. And for most of my life, I didn't see people like me backpacking, I didn't see people who looked like me climbing.

The journey to finding these things that are so important now (camping, climbing, outdoor education) happened in small increments. I could say it began with a roommate in college who instigated a camping trip. She was Vietnamese American, and really really into camping. Her excitement was contagious. A bunch of us went car camping somewhere south of Orange County, along a river. We slept under the stars, cooked over fire, and, because we were in college, drank quite a bit. And though I didn't do much camping until years after that, I think of that experience as the first time I realized that camping was not just a white american thing. (There's a lot to unpack there about growing up perceiving myself as not ah-khaing, not American, associated with this as well.)

Despite a lifetime of exposure to American ideals about individualism and following bliss and doing what the heart truly desires, I am coming to understand how the smallest spark of encouragement, the smallest invitation, has a profound effect on expanding what I believe is possible for myself.

(To be continued.)

Web Series Weekend

I have a guilty secret. I'm not an avid web series watcher. In fact, in the last 4 years since we formed Pearl Girls Productions and made Season 1 of That's What She Said, I can't recall actually watching any web series, except for the occasional episode of Awkward Black Girl.

Now that we're in the throes of producing season 2 of TWSS,  and since it turns out that there are so many web series to choose from featuring stories of queer people of color, I decided it was high time to finally sat down and watched some. We had a web series watching party last Saturday. Funny how watching media can be such a fun social affair. I should probably watch some of the episodes over again because I missed some dialogue due to our commentary and laughter.

These web series all excite me because they feature a variety of people of color, a variety of gender expressions, and high production value.

LESlieVILLE Web Series

Ah, a web series that, like Orange Is The New Black, you can binge on because they've already released their entire first season. And yes, yes we did watch all of the episodes in one sitting. This Toronto-based web series has delicious tension, fun writing, and a love triangle (which might be more of a square). Keep an eye out for their future crowdfunding campaign for a second season!



This Is Kelsey

Really enjoying this NYC-based show about hilariously awkward, newly on-the-prowl Kelsey as her friends help her negotiate dating. It's currently on episode two and I look forward to seeing where this goes. I really like their smart production- the series takes place primarily in about four locations. From my experience, affordable (or free, as in the case of TWSS) locations are tricky to come by. Also, the very handsome actor who plays Tyrone was almost on the cast of TWSS season one.



Dyke Central

Oakland-based Dyke Central released one delicious pilot episode in 2012 and is gearing up to start production on three more episodes. It's so great to see a longer format (20 minute) independent queer web series with such a broad representation of people of color and gender expression.  Support their Indie Go Go campaign (ends October 4) and/or sign up to be an extra.



And now, I twiddle my thumbs, anxiously awaiting the release of future episodes.

Opportunity: LA Wilderness Training Internship

How many nonprofit Executive Directors do this?

After I wrote about my relationship with rock climbing as a queer, Khmer American, woman, James Mills, a writer and independent producer, contacted me to dialogue further about people of color and the outdoors. James was the first African American sales executive for the The North Face back in the 1990s. I got to learn more about Expedition Denali, the National Outdoor Leadership School's effort "To inspire youth of color—and particularly African American youth—to get outside, get active, and become stewards of our wild places."

I mentioned to James that I was interested in learning traditional climbing, and he told me about Chelsea Griffie, one of the women who will also be on Expedition Denali and who recently moved to Los Angeles to start LA Wilderness Training, modeled after Bay Area Wilderness Training. She's also co-leading a Women of Color backpacking trip in Yosemite this summer with Elizabeth Sy, a Khmer American woman (yay!).  I got to meet Chelsea via Skype a couple of weeks ago and she mentioned that she's looking for interns to help get LAWT off the ground. (Funny that I met James, who lives in Madison, Wisconsin in person, and that due to hectic weekday schedules and LA traffic, Chelsea and I met via Skype.) 

So, those who are interested in getting some experience helping to build an organization from the ground up, get in touch with Chelsea! She's badass (as pictured). As of our conversation, she'd already trained 28 adults who work with youth to lead trips outdoors.