I am a huge fan of Internet for a variety of reasons but one of the most gratifying is the capability to meet new people with similar interests and friendship potential. On two previous occasions I got to know my electronic pen-pals so well that I committed to climbing major structures (the Diamond on Long's Peak and Sentinel Rock in Yosemite) with them having never met them in person, let alone climbed a single pitch with them. Strangely, both climbs were fabulously successful. Hence, it should come as no surprise that I was putting this formula to a third test.

The goal this time was the desert classic Primrose Dihedrals route on Moses Spire in the Colorado Plateau of southern Utah within the boundaries of Canyonland National Park. My partner was none other than Bob "The Alien Englishman" Sinclair. We had done some corresponding via the net and then via snail mail and the blower. He graciously invited me along on the adventure. The plan was for Bob to pick me up in SLC on Thursday night, drive into the desert that night, climb the spire on Friday, climb at Indian Creek on Saturday, and wing it on Sunday.

I knew from previous conversations that Bob was a vastly superior climb to myself as he had freeclimbed into the 5.12 range...a mere 8 letter grades above myself. I relished the opportunity to climb with him for I knew he would lead the hardest pitches. It is certainly great to have a local contact when visiting a new area to climb. Bob had the vehicle, knew the complex, 4WD approach, and provided all the gear. What a deal!

My first impression upon seeing "The Alien", as his resident ID card called him, was that he was of small stature (5'8" or so) but quite muscular. His hair was blonde and short which revealed his most distinguishing feature: tiny ears that stuck out from his head at almost right angles. Each ear appeared to be about the size of a quarter. They seemed to function okay though as we exchanged greetings and hopped into his truck.

Our first stop was the Black Diamond store where we would meet the third member of our team: Jim. Jim was an older guy who was even smaller and leaner than Bob. I felt like a fat giant around these two guys, like the chubby kid at a neighborhood football game who is always picked last. We shopped around the store for awhile, and I decided I wanted one of everything in the store, but my wallet forced me to settle for a new guidebook. Then we were off on the four hour drive to the desert.

We reached the rim of the canyon in total darkness and started driving down the White Rim Trail. My companions assured me that this road was most remarkable and that there was a thousand foot drop just off the side of the road. Later, when we returned on this road, I was shocked that a road could actually breach the seemingly impenetrable cliffs. This country is so wild, so incredible, so unusual that I can begin to understand Edward Abbey's fascination with this area. We slept at the bottom of the canyon, right next to the Colorado River (Green River?).

The Taylor boys from Arizona like to refer to the "California crack of noon start", but this isn't my style at all. I know I am slow on hard routes and want to give myself all the time possible. On popular easier routes I don't want to be behind anyone. Hence I am known for my early starts. With Primrose Dihedrals my start would have been massively early since it is both hard and popular. But alas, I wasn't running the show. To Bob, the route wasn't that hard, and he wasn't in the habit of starting early to go climbing. We got up around 8 a.m., sat around and had some coffee and ate some breakfast. We would pay for this later in the day...continually.

When we arrived at the end of the dirt road leading to Moses Spire it was predictably swarming with people. The spire struck the sky above us and looked regal. Adrenaline surged through me. Damn! What a hunk of rock! It must be climbed. A ranger checked our permit and told us that a party was already on Primrose Dihedrals and that another one was queued up. Ugh! Maybe we would have to choose another route. About six or seven vehicles were already here, and we started the usual cautious probing of the people around us. A woman asked up what route we were going to do.

"Well, we wanted to do Primrose Dihedrals, but it sounds like it is queued up already. Maybe we will try another route. What about yourselves?"

"We," she said nodding her head toward a tall guy, "are going to do Primrose Dihedrals."

"Wow," I said, "does that make you the third party on the route? There are two parties ahead of you, right?"

"No, only one party is up there now and they left an hour or two ago."

Bing! That means no one is queued up. The only party ahead of us had a two hour head start. I looked over at Bob, and he was thinking the exact same thing. Without another word about our plans we packed up and were off for the route. The chick and her partner could figure out where we were headed and now felt in danger of getting behind us, with good reason. The guy took off after us immediately and the common, unannounced race to the base of the route was on! Most of us have been in such a race before and I have been in a lot of them. I have never lost one once in front and I wasn't about to lose one now. If necessary, I would run.

Jim led us along the wash and then up the steep, faint trail that led to the base of the tower which is poised on a loose ridge that branches off from the canyon walls. Our competitor was right behind us as we headed up, but we increased our pace. Thirty minutes into the race he knew he wasn't fit enough to beat us and pulled up panting. The route was ours.

We decided to speed things up by taking the variation start that bypasses the first 5.11 pitch and traverses in from the notch. This would also allow the party behind us to start up quicker. As we prepared to start the route, our competitor, a French Canadian, finally caught up to us. He stood around fuming for awhile and then stated that he thought we were real assholes for cutting in front of him and taking his route. Excuse me? Either this guy has rocks for brains or is just an asshole. Maybe things are done differently in Quebec, but in my experience you don't queue up for a route 45 minutes away in the parking lot; you do it at the base of the route. The asshole stormed off, and we left a bit mad about the confrontation but firmly believed ourselves to be in the right. Besides, we would be atop the first pitch before his partner even arrived. Not an ideal way to start, but moments later Bob led out along the 5.8 traverse that started the route.

A few moments later, he returned. He said that he got out to the first belay and was setting up a belay when he looked up. Only twenty feet above him was the first party and they were moving very slowly as they were aiding the whole route. After a brief conversation we decided that the gods weren't with us on this route at this time. We would go climb the nearby Zeus and return a few hours later to hopefully better conditions. This turned out to be a very good decision.

With lots of time to kill, Zeus is only a two pitch route (5.7 and a bolt ladder), we watched Greg Epperson taking photos of Scott Cosgrove trying to free Pale Fire (5.12b). Scott failed on the flash attempt and didn't even get the redpoint, but he did make a yo-yo ascent of the crux pitch. His girlfriend was jugging along behind and in tears by the summit. Greg utilized an interesting pair of telescoping stilts 10 or 15 feet long to push himself far enough away from the wall to get the optimum angle for the photos. Quite cool!

We packed up everything and hiked over to the Zeus tower where the guidebook described a 5.7 A1 route to the top. Upon reaching the base of the route and after an appropriate period of time staring in awe at the thin tower we started to look for the bolts...in vain! All the bolts, which is most of the route, had been chopped! The only way to the summit now was a 5.11+ runout route. We passed on that option.

I delved into the guidebook once again and came up with another route, but it involved unprotected 5.10 face climbing and no one wanted to take that risk on this crumbly sandstone. So my next suggestion was the Dunne Route on Moses Spire. Heck, at least we would attempt the spire we came to climb. It was no pushover either. The crux pitch was a 5.11c fist pitch. Thankfully, for me, that was the only 5.11 pitch and we quickly agreed to give it a go.

The first pitch was only 5.9 and I grabbed the lead since it would be one of the few pitches I would be capable of leading. It started with an unprotected, overhanging, bouldery start that gave me a bit of trouble. Later that day when we returned to the base, Jim would boulder up the start and back down in his tennis shoes. I fought through the start and was soon grappling with the fist and offwidth above. The pitch ended on a good ledge with a fixed anchor and Bob and Jim quickly followed the pitch.

The second pitch is simply rated 5.10 in the guidebook. This is a huge range to people like me. I usually flash 5.10a but usually won't even attempt a 5.10d unless the pro is close enough for the super-dog effort I usually turn in on such beasts. After a brief discussion, Bob took the lead and swarmed up it. Jim followed easily carrying the pack and even I battled my way up without falling. It is probably a 510a.

The third pitch was a super long, devious pitch that was mostly 5.8 with some 5.9 and maybe a touch of 5.10. I hung out way to the right on a big flat platform in the sun. Then we did a short pitch to the real belay. This short pitch was very steep and probably 5.10a/b. The next pitch was the crux and, of course, Bob's lead.

The crux pitch was a 5.11c fist crack. Bob powered up the corner to a roof. Here he had to traverse underneath it and around the right edge to continue up the dihedral. Getting around the proof proved too much and off he came in a short fall. After a brief rest he boxed his way up to the top of the crack in a great display of endurance. Now he was faced with a choice. Either he could move right underneath a monstrous bombay chimney or tunnel through the rock via a tight squeeze. The bombay looked insane--it was an upside down flare that looked extremely difficult. Bob gave it a half hearted try and didn't think it would go, so he bailed and burrowed straight into the tower.

I went next and handled the overhang below by liebacking around it as quickly as possible since I knew my arms could only last a couple of minutes. Sure enough, they gave out thirty feet below the squeeze. From here on up I only moved in short bursts of a few feet between hangs. I was right in the midst of the 5.11 fist section, and I can't climb 5.11 fist. I proved this thoroughly to Bob and Jim. At the belay I found myself twenty feet deep inside the tower standing on a five inch ledge in a fissure that was no more than a foot wide - I couldn't even turn around.

I led the summit pitch which tunneled back to the outside, where I passed up the slow party that turned us away from the Primrose Dihedrals route so long ago. They were just reaching the summit now. Obviously we made a good decision in aborting that route. We also learned that the French-Canadian dude and his partner had backed off the first pitch. In a strange way that satisfied me. I turned the final difficult 5.9+ face move over a bulge. This was very reminiscent of Pinnacles climbing for me. Everything in the Pinnacles goes over a bulge.

The summit is quite striking. The summit block itself doesn't look like it is too firmly attached and it hangs far off center. We took the obligatory summit photos and got in line for the descent. A couple of parties, including Cosgrove and his tearful girlfriend, had just finished the Pale Fire route. They were a bit of assholes in that they insisted on rappelling first even though we had made the summit first and were ready to go down. We didn't push the issue and waited patiently on the ledge. Once we got our turn it was quite exciting descending a wall we didn't ascend via four double rope rappels that overhang slightly. At times it was tricky getting back into the wall to clip into the belays, all of which were hanging ones.

As we hiked out we could hear the party behind us, the Primrose team having trouble with their rope. It had jammed and they had to reascend to free it. We asked if they needed any help, but it wasn't required. Driving up the awesome road which led into White Rim Canyon was worth the trip in itself. The road is only one lane wide in some spots. Flanked on one side by a steep wall and the other side by a hundred foot drop to the Green River, this drive can get your adrenaline going. Jim is a very experienced river runner and he regaled us with stories of great river trips. I really want to do one. It seems like a great way to experience the canyon country. We dined on the rim of the canyon. It was incredibly beautiful, and I felt like I was living inside an Edward Abbey book.

The next day we drove to the Indian Creek area. I had wanted to climb Supercrack from the first time I had ever seen it. Probably every climber has. It is simply the most perfect crack in the universe. In fact, I had seen numerous photos of lots of incredible looking climbs from this area, each looking more perfect than the one before: Incredible Hand Crack, Supercorner, Perfect Crack, Super Ideal You Won't Believe It Crack, etc. Well, forget whatever you think from viewing these photographs. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, compares to Supercrack for simple awesome purity. It is the one feature, the one route, that immediately grabs your eye from the road below. So much so that you don't even notice that there could be other climbs up there. It is the most visually stunning one pitch route on the planet.

I was trying to decide whether I wanted to attempt leading Supercrack. It was rated 5.10+ which was stretching my leading ability probably beyond my coverage, but it might have been my only chance since there were plans pending to close this area to climbing. Bob's suggestion was to try and lead the first pitch of Amaretto first and see how that goes. Amaretto's first pitch was rated 5.9, but Bob thought it was harder. It started off as a perfect hand crack in a near vertical corner. I cranked up the first moves and quickly got myself into a substantial groundfall potential, and Bob notified me of the situation. I knew what I was doing though. I was trying to conserve my very limited strength. I slipped in a friend and quickly clipped it before moving on. The upper section turns into an awkward and then strenuous offwidth section, but I was just barely able to pull off the flash lead. Unfortunately the effort involved was so great that I decided against leading Supercrack - it would have been an ugly dog-fest and I didn't think my two companions had the stomach to watch such an event.

Supercrack consists of three pitches in the Desert Rock guidebook. Hardly anyone does the last pitch because the rock quality seriously deteriorates. The super clean crack section is the 5.10+ second pitch. Bob combined the first two pitches into one long one. He ran up this pitch with such ease that I didn't have much time to study his technique. Before I knew it was my turn.

I made it up to the first ledge okay. This involves some awkward climbing to a difficult 5.10 face move. Right off the ledge the crack splits the face upwards. Twenty feet up it cleaves its way through a one foot roof. Not much of a roof but enough to put you heavily onto your arms. At first the crack is tight hands and soon goes to perfect hands before gradually getting bigger. It never gets to fist size but is wide hands. My technique was bad, and I didn't work my feet very well. My arms started to cramp, but worse, my hands started to cramp. I started to hit the wall, and Bob urged me to leave the pro behind in an effort to reach the belay without hanging. What would that prove, I thought? Only that I could toprope the route. These sort of distinctions are meaningless to me, but I did as I was told. It wasn't enough as I burned out and hung limply at the end of the rope. My hands weren't obeying my brain's commands. I got back on and finished the pitch.

The next climb we wanted to try was the Incredible Hand Crack but by this time the mob had descended. We didn't realize it since this climb was around the corner from Supercrack. It came as quite a surprise to see a huge group of twelve at the base with another climber butchering the hell out of the lead. We decided to come back later and retreated to Fingers in a Light Socket. Bob had led this Fingers before and Jim wanted a shot at the lead. At 5.11d I thought I would just be watching, but they coaxed me into a dogging up it on toprope. A more fitting name for this climb would be the Incredible Lieback as it is a perfectly brutal fingertip lieback.

We checked again on the availability of the Incredible Hand Crack but found a rope dangling off it. We asked if the people were done with route since no one was climbing it. "No," they said, "we're just taking a break for lunch." This seemed a bit unreasonable to me--monopolizing a climb for an entire day even when you aren't climbing it. Keyhole Crack was our last climb, and it was extremely diverse and one of the coolest pitches we did. It had everything: face moves, a fingertip traverse, a perfect hand section, a fist section and more all on very steep rock. It was probably 5.10+. I managed the TR flash after Bob led it.

The Indian Creek area is the climbing gym version of the desert. While the climbs are striking, naturally protected cracks, the atmosphere isn't one of adventure. All the climbs are done as one pitch, and the base is mobbed with groups. Queues form at the base of the best routes. I am really glad that I got to climb Supercrack and hope to return here to test myself on the classics, but I view it more of a training ground than destination. By now the Supercrack Buttress is more than likely closed to climbers. Having been there once, I don't mourn this loss as deeply.

We returned to Salt Lake City later that evening. Jim took off for Logan while we crashed at Blaze's place. Blaze was a climbing friend of Bob's. The next day it rained and even snowed some so Bob just gave me a driving tour of the Little Cottonwood Canyon climbs. I left that evening on a plane bound for San Jose and home. Not a bad first adventure with my new climbing friend: The Alien Crackmaster! I also learned some new climbing rules: