Better late than never!

You might wonder what could possibly have taken nearly 3 months to write a single blog post about this trip?

Well, the truth is this; If you long for a simple life of travelling / climbing, then go sport-climbing (or bouldering if you like being cold). Trad climbing, especially long trad-climbing, is anything but simple. Rest days are filled with scheming, plotting and planning the next route and how one should best approach it to guarantee success. This, when teamed with a level of physical and mental exhaustion experienced after a short while of doing such routes, leaves little time or inclination to write a blog. So there.

Before we left for this trip one word I'd often here (sometimes bitterly, often flippantly) was "luck" or "lucky". The fact is however, that luck didn't really play a great role in the planning of this trip which was first concieved on a Dover bound ferry, signalling the end of our previous Euro-tour. We sat on the rear deck of the boat, looking back fondly at France and discussed how much we'd both enjoyed the last 6 months of absolute freedom. It's worth noting at this time that Natalie had barely tied on before the last trip which was initially meant to consist of bouldering, which swiftly became sport, until we both became captivated by the blank imposing walls of the Verdon gorge which ultimately led us both to where we are today, typing this in Curry Village, Yosemite.

Wind forward to around 9 months ago and I was sat, having just passed my Viva a month or so ago and having failed to get the research position I dearly wanted. It was to be perfect you see, Natalie was due to sit her professional review, a pass securing her a greater employability on her return and I would have helped us save up a little more before being able to leave a 6 month contract guilt free. However, that wasn't to be. As I previously stated I was pipped to the post for the RA position (annoyingly by another climber) and Nat received a somewhat crushing blow that she hadn't been successful. The trip seemed doomed or at least to me. Natalie on the other hand was not accepting of that fact and set herself the enormous task of resitting in just 6 months time. I took a job at the Foundry and begin anally planning everything from routes to rack and everything in-between.

A month before we were set to depart Nat had typed her resignation letter and was preparing to hand it in when a brief suggestion from a colleague yielded a surprise offering from high up in the management chain, a sabbatical (maybe just a little luck then). Having sat her review again (all very quietly this time) and assuring me that she was confident of failure, we booked a flight to Denver, Colorado and crossed our fingers. After all, you only live once.

Arriving we set about researching (Craigslist) available conversion vans and driving around like lunatics viewing, testing and generally trying to purchase and insure a vehicle in the US of A.

We settled for a Ford E-150, V8 engined monster, promptly converted to a liveable campervan through the wonders of Ikea and thus we were able to begin our journey.