I think most everything about American living is pretty snazzy, to tell the unfashionable truth. Having lived overseas for a number of years, I feel a certain efficiency when considering the merits of American life. This is especially true for a climber. With a car. Traveling to the yankee crags is a matter of time and weather attitude, but little more. Affordable chalk abounds and Mad Rock climbing gear does not strangle the market like a Rockefeller monopoly, as in many foreign lands. I drink fine Colorado micro-brews after sessions here in the Rockies, a used book in my lap, my dog at my side, sitting on my stoop and nodding my head contentedly at the bloody red evening sky. In a phrase, it’s all good being a climber here in the almost-West.
But not always, I suppose. I am reminded of the little irksome gauntlets thrown in my face a couple days ago in Vedauwoo, Wyoming. Now, the place is breathtaking, no doubt about it. I arrived at Medicine Bow National Forest around sunset, set up the bed in the back of my little rig, and popped a PBR to enjoy the bruising sky over the cancerous blobs we climbers so much enjoy. The land of the “earth born,” which when anglicized from Arapaho is exactly what Vedauwoo means, is an outdoor playground in the full sense of the words, with plenty of pastoral beauty to spare.
Vedauwoo
I woke up at 6am for a rare alpine start, brewed a bit of coffee, and drove off to the first area on my hit list. I found the boulders easily enough through neon green brambles and a wispy field of grasses, but the blocks stood tall and imposing and lacked a walk-off I could discern. The top of the egg-like boulder I scoped looked the crux, and as I arrived alone and have already broken one leg on a highball I opted to move on to the next area, not disappointed at all but more thrilled to get back there someday with mates.
The next area sucked, in the parlance of our times, my ass. Apparently boulderers eschew stellar trad climbing for these crystalline amoebas, but I couldn’t wrap my head around it. Not that I’m a crack junkie, but I’ve plugged my share of gear, and this stuff looked world class. On the boulders I couldn’t find an edge or a lip or a decent starting foothold on any of the rigs I massaged, the frustration metastasizing into some sort of deep welled fear. Would I find something I could get on and actually climb and then get down from?
Well, no I wouldn’t. After a half hour humping though the woods at Coyote Rocks I still hadn’t found any of the boulders in the guide. Mosquitoes rented out summer homes in every gaping orifice in my face. Spitting sweat caused the sandals to slip from my feet and the pad grew a heavy burden on my shoulders. Basically, I wanted to kill someone. Mostly a homicide/suicide sort of deal, but I didn’t know where the guidebook author lived. I’m pretty certain I passed the boulders in question a number of times, which made the shame all the more irksome, and perhaps saved the author an uncomfortable visit. And then it started to rain. Big wet drops at first and then basically the bottom dropped out of the sky and I was walking along the floor of a muddy ocean. I padded back to the car a self-aware moron while lightning split the prairie about a mile away. I hustled my pad and sopping dog into the car and slammed the driver’s side door with such unmerciful violence that my side-view mirror snapped right off and then just limply hung there by two silly wires. Pretty awesome day at the crag, wouldn’t you agree!
You know, that sounds pretty terrible, a wasted five day road trip that saw me retreating after less than 24 hours, defeated and homicidal and face pulsating red and teeth gritted like an iron-shop vice. The only saving grace of this debacle is that it almost never happens. When bad luck combines with some spiteful kismet to bring about a cosmic ass-kicking, it’s normally enough to put one in one’s place. And then back to reigning princely and marvelous in all facets of life, like usual.
Overseas, however, as a climber/writer/expat, kismet and bad luck nagged my back like Yoda on Luke. Crazed drivers, park rangers disallowing shirtless bouldering, crowded public transit cars reeking of pickled cabbage and rotten alcohol…ah, the life. The Wyoming travails brought it all back in such kodachrome lucidity. Korea had a way of latching onto a horrid motif and running berserk with it until you felt you must bash your head against a wall for the virus to escape out of some gnarled, lacerated, and gaping wound… I loved it, I must admit, but Korea was a country of Vedauwoo Collisions.
Let’s recall the following day of collisions in present time, as that always seems to afford a bit more reality, and really, we all need a little more reality. Well, in this case, no. No, we don’t.
A muddy day outside from my Korean apartment window...
I woke up to a pounding headache sometime in 2008, wincing as my eyes opened. Seems I had been grinding my teeth throughout the night. My head felt like the business end of a two-by-four after a mini-mall tae kwon do showcase. I rolled over and grimaced as what sounded like rain pounded the streets 13 stories below, the whoosh-charging-electricity sound of cars and trucks slicing across the wet pavement sidling through my cracked windows. I rolled over in a great heap of aches and blankets and told myself I would take a cab to the climbing gym, that I would not skip the climbing gym, that cabs are good for the climbing gym. And then I was back to sleep. Rain has a way of turning grown men into gurgling and napping babies.
I woke up for the final time after slapping the snooze button on my cherry bomb of an alarm clock with its banshee shrieking howl, around 9:20. The street below unfolded dry as a desert, the cars and trucks motoring along with the rubber thrum of the morning commute. The smog, however, had certainly looked like rain. Did it rain at all? Do gnashing teeth sound like falling rain?
I dressed quickly and thought about popping some Ibuprofen, but knew that to be a foolish idea before a gym session. With my recent health luck I would snap a tendon and blow my ACL in one smashing display of self-destruction. Besides, I always walk away bloody and tip-tingling when I pre-pop vitamin I, so I packed the bag, skipped the coffee, jumped on the bike and pedaled to SK Wall, my semi-local basement gym.
My local basement gym.
Almost all gyms in Korea are located in basements. They are dark places full of mutant prodigies that twirl about the apartment sized gym, up and down and traversing and dynoing for hours and hours, making me feel like a fat American gum drop that only sticks to the holds when the sweat co-efficient in the gym rests at the perfect barometric reading. But, the morning air was fondled by light humidity and the chill of late October certainly dulled my thickness, which made for a nice bike ride. It also meant my gum drop hands might stick for two to five holds longer than normal.
After pedaling without drama to the gym I plugged in my iPod to the ancient ghetto blaster stuffed in the corner, jumped on the wall at 10 am, and climbed medium to shitty for an hour and 20 minutes. My first Vedauwoo Collision, however, occurred half-way through the session, right after a cigarette break that left me guilty and clutching my chest like one desperately searching for a precious but misplaced locket.
The route in question was tricky, in a way similar to those outdoors on which you know a fall will be painful and horrific, causing a bloody wound or pulled muscle in exactly the same place every time. For example, you know your foot will slip on precisely the same nubbin every single time, smashing your knee into a chicken head on your speedy sojourn to the granite earth. Or the crimp so small that your fingers snap off the credit card edge in such an explosion that consistently shreds the backs of your knuckles, leaving flaps of skin, hair, and red, red blood to instantly coagulate into the granite.
Sometimes, this is what happens on projects, this particular disaster taking place outdoors...
Problem is, if one gets the fear indoors, one could be a pussy. I don’t think I’m a pussy, but I’m not altogether certain. I’ve been told otherwise. Here’s what I think. The evil sloper that pulverizes my knee, just under the cap and right above the shin, is enough to send me pirouetting about the gym like a dervish and grunting and guffawing and squeezing my eyes so tight. It hurts really damn bad, and on the first day of attempting this crux sequence, some time ago, I must have slammed into that sloper four or five times, with stupefying inertia and force, until the thought of even touching the starting holds made me swoon into a nauseous physical rebellion.
I knew I had to get back on the problem, though, as getting through this belligerent section would almost assure a send. I felt strong on the overhang and roof, and as the second crux of this particular line ascended a steep slant on relatively workable holds, I thought if I could just scoot past the Nancy Kerrigan-knee-bashing-sequence, the problem would fall. But confidence is a funny thing when sharing the starting crimps with knee-bashing terror. Though the mind receives the orders of movement in orderly electrical pulses, the body refuses to open the synapses, causing a paralyzing or supine or dim-witted attempt. The body simply will not cooperate. It’s as if a dog knows that the collar around its neck will shock the ever-loving shit out of it when crossing the sidewalk and trying to escape into the excitement of the bustling street. Though the mind commands the dog to chase the Passat, the body will not heed these mandates. The dog learns its lesson, sprawling despondent in the yard and dreaming of interesting ways in which to introduce mayhem upon your possessions and person.
So it was on my sequence today. High stepping onto the treacherous hold, the one that causes my inelegant foot glissade and my knee to become pulp, my body ejected me, wholesale, off the wall, as if I had been electrocuted. I landed heavily on a Mad Rock mat, maybe two centuries old and stiff as a slab of gneiss, directly onto my hip-bone/ass region, instantly pulling every muscle from my lower rib cage to mid-thigh. Mainly, my ass seized and coughed and then simply decided to knot itself into a fine iron ball. My first Vedauwoo Collision of the day, though I thankfully steered clear of that line’s true physical dread with the wary-eyed fear of our dog with the shock collar.
I packed up, unlocked the bike in the upstairs lobby, and cruised out into the network of alleys which accompany any major Korean thoroughfare. The labyrinthine alleys of Seoul are really something to behold, especially when trying to decipher hangul street signs, or, if you’re lucky, peering over the shoulder of a townie cabbie. Really, they form a lawless maze wherein many a foreigner finds himself host to a number of awesome calamities leading to medical internment or worse. The serpentine alleys bustle with men in suits – smoking, always smoking – lugging random household devices, young men in vests darting about delivering breakfasts and lunches and dinners on powerful scooters, ancient grandmothers fiddling with vegetables just at the edge of the pavement, young women in white medical face-masks holding umbrellas atop their person on the cloudiest of days, a light breeze always a danger to whisk their umbrellas and tiny frames right up into the clouds and into, say, North Korea or Mongolia. These alleys are no place for the meek.
I turned the first corner in the alley system making up the busy neighborhood around SK Wall, feeling leisurely in the mild temps. No hurry. I didn’t stay in the gym long enough to warrant a speedy trip home, so I opted on taking my time. Slowly pedaling into the next turn and staying close to my side of the road, I suffered my second Vedauwoo Collision of the day.
The view of the streets and alleys from the roof of my 15 floor apartment.
Tearing down the middle of the alley, at maybe three or four times the lawfully required speed, a small black car with tinted windows zipped directly towards me. Time didn’t so much slow down, but rather my actions seemed a blur, lighting out frantic and shaking from deep inside the evolutionary gifts that have so far barely kept me walking the earth. With everything I had I wrenched my front tire into a full 90 degree turn to the right, unlatching both feet from the toe clips in fear I’d have to kick myself off the car’s side door. And that is exactly what I did, karate kicking the sedan with all the might I had left in my tortured left leg, leaving a dent in the driver side door. Miraculously, I maintained just enough control of my bike to kick the car out of my way by two inches, though I nearly smashed into a parked minivan on my side of the alley. In two, maybe two and a half feet, I had avoided a head-on collision that could well have killed me and most certainly would have mangled me to shreds of broken and bleeding extremities.
Across the alley a man smoked a cigarette as he lazily unloaded light fixtures out of his rusty Bongo truck, barely noticing the near disaster. I screamed to the receding death machine, “Slow down! What if I had been a child?!” as loud as I could muster, in English, and the man with the chandelier nearly dropped it and his cigarette. He blinked. Then he blinked again and remembered the chandelier and continued on with his business. The killer car slowed a bit and rounded a corner. I was left to catch my breath and reign in the bursting surge of adrenalin pulsing through my body. I couldn’t much feel anger, as this happens on a regular basis. After all, this was the third time I’d been accosted by a car, knocked off my scooter, or been dashed across the hood of a speeding lunatic’s vehicle, in just under two years in Korea.
But this incident, this black speeding bumper, was so close that I did feel fear, and the thought that I could be lying on the ground in a heap of broken body parts and snapped bike accessories if the temperature had been 10 degrees cooler (remember, I had been pedaling leisurely to enjoy the mild morning, thus maintaining a tortoise’s pace)… I had a hard time shaking it. Call it luck, or providence, or whatever, I’m just glad I survived that closest of all calls in Korea. I rode the rest of the way home with overstressed arms and unsure commitments to action, like a child just learning to trust himself on a bike taken off the sidewalk for the first time. It was bad…but I made it home safe, and decided not to accidentally smash my apartment’s closet glass with my bike’s handlebars, again. You know, just to celebrate continued survival.
The last Vedauwoo Collision was with my boss, Mr. Kim, later in the afternoon. I was in a fine mood upon arriving at work, after a long shower and big roll of tuna kimbap, with the previous collisions melted into an oily dull puddle in my memory. But I guess I wasn’t in the mood to deal with someone wasting my time (which is often more painful than both bashed knees and the victim end of vehicular assault), and that’s exactly what Mr. Kim did when I asked him the first question of the day. Little annoyances, they blossom bright and loud and terrible.
My desk in the office (notice the baseball game playing in the bottom right of the computer screen).
First of all, he said he wouldn’t be in the office at all, which is a bright notion worthy of great celebration. I also thought I was first to Oego Bagsa, the publishing company I worked for, since the lights were off. I set down my bag outside the glass doors and was about to fish out my security card when Mr. Kim swung open the doors. He had been sitting in the darkened office, alone, silent, specter-like. Freakish. I was already irritated, as he’d been taken aghast when I told him I hadn’t finished the logic test editing project he’d given me with 50 minutes left last night.
“But Dave, I told you to-night. We need it tonight!” he’d said, with much extremity locution.
There had been some bickering and he’d exited the evening frowning and muttering and shaking his head. But 50 minutes for 40 logic questions, editing and rewriting and figuring the damn things out for myself? Christ, I suck doing the most simpleton of logic riddles, let alone editing the very wording and logic of a logic question. Probably the wrong man for the job, admittedly. Anyway, I busted through the rest of the editing, and finished up just before he lit out for the sister Bundang office an hour after I’d arrived. The last question to the logic problems, however, I didn’t understand and couldn’t find the answer for. It seemed as though information were missing in the question, so I spun in my chair in order to talk to Mr. Kim face-to-face.
“Done,” I said.
“Really? Already…” he asked.
“Yup. But I don’t know the answer to the last one.”
He flipped to the appropriate page of his own copy and pointed at the last question, number 40.
“This one?” he asked.
“The last one,” I said, a pulsating irritation growing like a tumor in my soul. “That’s the last one, so…”
“This one….?” He asked again, pointing.
“Mr. Kim, is that the last one?” I asked, my head in my hands, voice slow as if talking to a plant. But I wasn’t. I was talking to Mr. Kim, or rather syntactically sparring with him, he of a Master’s Degree from the University of Oklahoma in some language related field.
“Yes.”
“Then yes, the last one. That one.”
He nodded thoughtfully, rubbed his chin, and stood up from his desk, lashed his computer bag, and walked out of the office. “This is no problem, it’s really very simple,” he said. “We’ll finish it tomorrow. There is no hurry now.” No hurry… No hurry?!
And then he left, likely on his way to Vedauwoo, where he would locate every hidden boulder, latch every desperate sloper, and drive over every tourist on the road. I spun back to my computer, alone in the office for the next seven hours, fresh off collisions and liberated at last. I clicked to the previous night’s Rockies game and opened the next booklet of logic questions, kicking my feet to the desk top and placing the booklet in my lap. And then I directly fell into a deep, peaceful, wholly undisturbed sleep.
number of view: 81
A Word from the Cryptochild, Himalayan Bound
I’m too damn busy with life and what-have-you to walk a nice intro around the block, which likely leaves many sighing pleasantly over their humming laptops. The climbing life has a way of just being the “life,” lacking that whole rock-scaling component, often. Unfurling a Gordian knot seems a bit less complicated than stacking the cards of one’s days in such a way as to allow a quick sojourn out to the crags, or even the gym, god forbid. That’s life, and she swings when she swings. So, let’s just get down and gritty.
Mike Brooks and I had Jason Kehl (along with Abbey Smith and Mike Auldridge) in the ClimbTalk studio last Friday, fresh (and I mean his rig’s engine must have still been pinging and cooling down) off another OR show, where he was busy with his sponsors, his own company, and spinning some commentary at the annual comp on top of the Shilo Inn. As most of you know, Jason has been crushing highball boulders for years (Evilution in Bishop, bouldering The Fly in Rumney, bouldering Straight Out of Squampton in Squamish…this list goes on and on). He’s starred in just about every climbing film ever made, showing off those spooky-ass stilts, horrifying contact lenses, and the now archetypal dread-skullet, which you totally forget he’s got nested on his dome after about two minutes chatting with him. He’s also a gifted artist (perhaps you’ll note some work with toddler appendages), hold shaper (check out this video), graphic designer, and social mix-master, amongst a slew of other hats he wears off and on.
He stopped by to wax a bit about his upcoming adventure to the Himalayas, highball bouldering, what got him into the sport, his image… He also gave us a unique insight into the genesis of a bouldering trip to an exotic location, in more of a logistical manner than we’re usually privy to. It ain’t all peaches and cream pulling one of these expeditions together, as Jason alludes to.
Finally, let me just say, in all my years in this industry (’98 was the beginning), Jason is the most down-to-earth pro climber I’ve yet to meet. He speaks softly, comports himself affably, and smiles a lot (likely because it’s a helluva lot more fun to smile than hold the mug in any other contortion…). I’d bumped into him before at Mt. Evans during a session, and my impressions were the same there. I say the following with all the sincerity my skeptical heart can muster: I wish that guy the best of luck in all the endeavors for which he works so damn hard. He deserves it.
So much for objectionable media!
Enjoy the interview, ya’ll. It was definitely a pleasure for us. Thanks to Travis T-Bag for the photos, once again.
Mr. Kehl
Mike Brooks: Welcome to ClimbTalk on KVCU 1190 AM. My name is Mike Brooks. With me as usual is Dave McAllister of pumpfactoryroad.com and Squirrel.
Smokey/Squirrel: Hello. How’s it going tonight?
MB: Dave, who do we have in the studio tonight?
Dave McAllister: We have Jason Kehl in the studio tonight…and a small posse. Abbey Smith and Mike Auldridge are also here.
MB: Mike is filming it for Jason. Jason, thanks for joining us.
Jason Kehl: Thanks for having me.
MB: Jason, you’re going to the Himalayas. I can’t wait. Tell us about that trip.
JK: Yes, I am going to the Himalayas, to northern India, basically on a mountaineering expedition. We’re going up into the mountains – 15/16,000 feet – and instead of going to climb a peak we’re just going to stop in the valleys and we’re going to explore the bouldering. Do something a little different. A lot of the climbers that have been out there spend a lot of time bouldering while they’re waiting to climb the mountains.
S: That’s an excellent idea. And who have you talked to about this place that you’re going?
JK: I’ve talked to many people. Originally, our two friends Johnny Copp and Micah Dash had shown us a lot of photos from their trip to the Shaffat Fortress. There’s [sic] amazing boulders everywhere and it’s these crazy green fields, huge mountains behind you. Just looks really comfortable to be hanging out there and climbing, but still at a really high elevation. So, it’s pretty messed up.
DM: Talk about the inception of the trip.
JK: We’ve always liked high-alpine bouldering and we wanted to take it a little farther. And there’s never really been a trip as extreme as a mountaineering trip where they have porters…we have a cook, horses to get all of our stuff out there. We’re going to drive as far as we can and then we’re going to hike for two more days and set up base camp at that point. So, it’s kind of like what a lot of people do all the time for mountaineering, but it’s never been taken to the bouldering aspect of the sport.
MB: Whoa…sounds fun. Who are you doing that with?
Jason and Abbey
JK: Abbey Smith, Pete Takeda, and Mick Follari. Pete is our point man; he’s been out to the Himalayas, like, seven times. So, we’re really trusting him with a lot of the information of getting us out there safe and getting us back.
MB: Sounds like a great trip. Do you have any photos that you’re going to be picking things from?
JK: Well…we’re going to have photos after and we’re going to be doing a five-part series on the Men’s Journal website about the trip – a video series. And we’re also going to have a Facebook page. The trip is called the Zanskar Odyssey. If you search that on Facebook you’ll find our page. We’re going to have updates. We have a satellite phone. We’re going to be updating it as much as we can, just with texts, just letting people know what’s going on…“We’ve lost the maps,” all that sort of thing. “Esteban’s dead. He got bitten,” you know. [laughter] We’ll keep you informed. Check it out, Zanskar Oddysey.
MB: And you’re going with Pete Takeda. Now, he wrote “Eye at the Top of the World.” I read that; that was interesting. We interviewed Jim McCarthy and he talked a little bit about his days with the CIA and what he did…or didn’t do.
JK: Nice. Have you had Pete in here?
MB: No…we tried.
JK: He’s very elusive.
MB: He can be. So, you’re just back from the OR [Outdoor Retailer] show in Salt Lake City.
JK: Yeah…I just got back a half an hour ago. Woke up this morning, did the last of the OR thing, and then got in the car and drove here.
MB: What did you see that you liked at the OR show?
JK: [laughing] I didn’t see that much, really, because I was focusing on my own gig. You know, it’s a lot of time spent waiting for people to show up. I definitely put some time in at my sponsors and made my rounds, but…I don’t even know. There was nothing that crazy. If you’ve been to, like, eight or ten different trade shows, after awhile it’s all the same stuff.
DM: What are your responsibilities with your sponsors? What do they slave you away for?
JK: Like…popping champagne bottles, hanging out…[laughter] No, nothing really. It’s more of what I want to do; they don’t really require anything. But, if you go out down there and you hang out with your friends and you’re meeting people, they’re super-psyched. Just talking to different people that are there. A lot of people haven’t been there before and they’ve seen a lot of the professional climbers in videos and magazines, but it’s their one chance to get to talk to them. So, it’s nice just to hang out and meet everyone and just see what’s going on.
MB: Who did you meet at the show, Jason?
JK: Chris Sharma. That was my highlight, I think.
Sometimes ya gotta yuk it up...
MB: Have you ever looked at his hands?
JK: You like his hands?
MB: Most people you can’t see the muscles in their hands, but with his hands you can see the muscles.
JK: Yeah…he’s got crazy hands…crazy fingers.
[laughter]
MB: Strong. So, was there a competition at the OR show?
JK: Yes, there was a competition on top of the rooftop at the Shilo [Inn Suites Hotel]; bouldering competition. I helped with the commentation, so I kind of sat in a little booth like this and talked about what was going on. It was a good comp.
MB: Who won? I heard Chris came in 4th, right?
JK: I think so. Daniel Woods won for the men and Alex Puccio for the women.
MB: Daniel’s climbing strong. Have you been up in Wolverineland?
JK: Oh, Lincoln Lake. Yeah, I have been up there, actually. Just once, and we happened to get rained out, but it’s pretty overwhelming the amount of rock that’s up there. People have been climbing there for a long time, but this resurgence…you go down there and you’re just like, “Wow, what should I get on?” So much down there…
MB: Interesting concept, when you said “resurgence” of people re-visiting an old place and making it become more.
JK: Yeah, and definitely more development. I know the first people that went down there, they did a couple things. But the new development has been pretty out of control.
MB: Nice. Dave Graham’s been there, developing…
JK: Yeah, I met him at the trade show, too.
MB: Oh, that’s where he’s been. So, tell us about the competition.
JK: Yeah, me and Jason Danforth, he’s one of the ones along with Pete Ward, that run the NA2C, and they had a couple commentators. Obe Carrion was one of those.
MB: Obe’s back.
JK: Yeah. We just kind of sat down and we each had our own problems, so I watched the second problem for the men and women. I have a lot of information on route setting; I’ve been route setting for a long time and I’ve been shaping holds. I’ve competed in those types of competitions. Just talking about stuff like that, the whole range of what goes into putting on a competition.
DM: Speaking of shaping holds. You’re an artist, obviously, so it’s a good segue into hold shaping for you. It seems natural. Talk about how that journey began for you. How did you start shaping holds and where are you at now in that career?
JK: I think I started shaping holds because I didn’t have a lot of money to buy holds when I was a kid. What we first did, we just found rocks in the river and drilled them out and that was the first step. [laughter] And when I traveled around the country I would take a rock from each area, drill it out, put it on my roof at home… So, it was always kind of either making them out of stone, making them out of wood… I made a hang board when I first started climbing, in ’94, and since then I’ve made, like, six hang boards. Actual resin hang boards. But yeah, I just always kind of found a way to make something, not having access to things. It just kind of evolved from there.
If this mic were a hold...
DM: And who are you making holds for now? Is it So Ill…and another company?
JK: I shape for a lot of companies, but just lately it’s So Ill and Crytochild, which is my company. That’s kind of a branch off So Ill. And I’m also doing stuff for Revolution, and now Pusher has just come back. Great company from back in the day that just kind of dropped off and everyone was missing it and now it’s back and I’m psyched to be a part of it.
MB: So, you must have an insider’s point of view on the Pusher issue. Why were they gone? Why are they back now?
JK: Why were they gone? Well, I guess things got a little crazy down there and…I don’t know…they couldn’t handle it. But, the guy who kept it all going was Clark Shelk, who was the original guy who developed Cordless. Basically, when everything went down, he kept that all and over the past years he’s been working to bring that back, paying off the old debt, fixing things. And now the time has come for him to bring it back and everything’s legit.
MB: I can’t wait for Pusher to come back.
JK: Pusher’s great. We’ll get you a Pusher tee shirt, man.
MB: Thank you. And Dave wants one…
DM: I want one, too…
MB: And Squirrel wants one.
DM: I have another question; this is going to be totally divergent. This is a question that I want to know about, and I’m sure a lot of other people do. You’ve been in a ton of climbing movies. People know you through that, like you were saying before. Talk about that process. You were in Dosage II, right…many Dosages?
JK: I think all the Dosages…
DM: All of them? Alright, I haven’t seen them in awhile. But talk about that process and what it’s like to work in front of a camera crew. Does that heighten your stoke or does that add nerves?
JK: Sometimes it does, for sure. Usually when I got with those guys, the Big Up crew, Josh Lowell and Brett, I’m really good friends with them. We started climbing on the East Coast in the Gunks together.
MB: You did?
JK: Yeah. So, when I go out with those guys it’s like hanging out with friends, you know. But sure, if someone’s like, “I want to make a video of you” and they just come out really weird and they’re following you around with the camera, I’m sure you’d feel a lot more pressure. Like, “I don’t know this guy. He wants me to perform.” But, if you’re going out with your friends…a lot of times it’s good. You know, go out with a couple people. Me and Mike have done it all the time and put up a new problem and shoot video while we’re there. It’s not that difficult.
MB: Wow, you’ve had kind of a dream career. A lot of folks want to emulate…
JK: It’s a lot of hard work.
MB: I know it is.
JK: I do…all kinds of stuff. I mean, there’s [sic] different types of professional climbers. Climbers who just climb and they take what they get from the companies and there’s not a lot back and forth. But I’m just trying to create something all the time. If it’s video, if it’s photo, I kind of want to have my hand in it, even though I’m working with other photographers, to make sure that that is what I want the image to be perceived as. So, it’s fun working with people and really getting your message across.
MB: Wow, cool gig. I want one!
DM: I have a question about image. Your style can…the hair, the contact lenses, the stilts, I think in Dosage I…spooky…
JK: Yeah, I got some stilts.
DM: It’s definitely unique, and I wonder, do you think that is polarizing to some people, or have you ever taken flak for it?
Image...no problem.
JK: Some flak, maybe, but the funny thing is, this is the way I was before I started climbing. I didn’t become a professional climber and decide, “Hey, I’m going to want to do this just so someone’s going to want to look at me.” I was like, “Look at me” before. [laughter] You know, this is weird; I want you to notice this. I want to make people be like, “What is going on with that guy?” I’ve just always been involved in that kind of theatric style my whole life. And it was fun, because now climbing kind of gave me an audience for that, even though the audience…this wasn’t what they wanted to see. [laughter] I’m sure. But, it still gave me an audience and I think some people who do enjoy it, they respect it for being what it is. It’s my own thing. I’m trying to keep that going. Again, if I wasn’t climbing I’d be doing this in another style or another sport.
DM: In an office somewhere…cruising in.
JK: Yeah, crazy office.
DM: So, let’s go back to the beginning. You started climbing in Baltimore in ’93. Talk about your beginning in climbing and also the moment where you thought to yourself, “Whoa, I want to live this lifestyle. I want to do this forever.”
JK: It was kind of weird when I started climbing because it wasn’t as accessible. It kind of had this edge to it that it was like, “Oh, these crazy mountain men are going out.” The people I climbed with, we climbed trad, and they were older guys and we’d do it a couple times a month. It was really hard to find partners. And then the gyms started popping up and all that. I don’t think I ever really realized that this is what was going to happen because it was such a slow progression. It’s like, you take your first road trip, you go wherever; I would go to Rifle in the summer for a month. Drive out there from Maryland. Do that every year. Each year it kept getting longer and I was like, “Okay, I’m going to take a three month road trip this winter. I’m going to try and make that work. And now I’m going to take a six month road trip next year and I’m going to see how I can make that work out.” So, I think it was such a slow progression; it was never something I jumped into. And, I’m so distracted by figuring it out that I’m not just like, “Wow, this is great.” I stop to think about it and it’s gone, you know?
MB: Interesting answer, thanks for that. When are you going to the Himalayas?
JK: Next Sunday, August 15th. Soon. This is crunch time, this week.
DM: What are you guys doing to prepare?
JK: We’re doing a lot to prepare.
MB: Same thing as Pete?
JK: Yes, yes. Mike’s referencing our trailer for the trip, which is going to be out this week. So, if you guys go to my website, www.crytochild.com, or if you check out the Zanskar Odyssey Facebook, the trailer’s going to be on there. It’ll tell you all about the preparation.
MB: So, tell me about your clothing line. I have one of your tee shirts.
JK: My company is called Cryptochild; kind of spawned off of the So Ill holds company that I work for. I was always doing design work for them, actually for a lot of companies, Blurr… But I wanted to do my own thing, have my own style, and the guys at So Ill totally opened up that door for me to get that stuff going. It’s kind of nice, too, because I feel like you work with a lot of companies and they’re like, “We want this, but we want you to really keep it chill.” But these guys don’t mind if I make holds that have baby heads coming out of them or gigantic monster holds. They’re up for whatever, basically. It’s that creative freedom that’s really nice, allows you to express yourself.
MB: Dare I ask, why baby heads?
JK: I mean, what other kinds of heads would you use?
DM: Good answer. I mean really, Mike, that’s not a rhetorical question.
JK: I don’t really see any other heads working…
MB: So, you guys are leaving in a week. What are you doing to prepare?
JK: Actually, it’s a lot of work, and Abbey and Pete have been doing a lot of that. Just the preparation, getting visas, securing the agency… We got a pallet shipped out there with all our crash pads and all our tents on, so that’s there already. So, just a lot of stuff like that. We’re trying to figure out the technology because I’m going to be editing video up there, shooting video. We just got to make sure all that’s figured out. So, we’ll be busy. It’s not like we’re just going up there to mess around and climb. We’re going to be shooting video and photos, Abbey and Pete are going to be writing… It’ll be nice. It’ll be a new place to get some creativity from.
MB: But you said you have to walk in for two days?
JK: Yeah, walking for two days. I’m hoping to just wear flip-flops, but…
DM: The bouldering better be good. Two days is a long time.
JK: I know. I say that when I walk up to the park or to Evans. I’m like, “Is this really worth it?” [laughter]
DM: Right. “I better send hard today.”
JK: I’m going to try to block that out, listen to some music…yeah…
MB: Whose doing the media?
JK: I’m doing the video media. We’re all kind of working as a team, but I’ll be focusing on the video and everyone will be helping out with the shots we need. Pete and Abbey are going to help with some of the scripting and the basic storyline. We’re trying to make it story-heavy and character-heavy so people really understand what’s going on and really have something to relate to.
MB: I already asked once, but maybe you can be specific. Who thought up the project? Because I think it’s brilliant.
JK: We’ve always dreamt about it, you know? I’ve always seen photos from our friends who are mountaineers, even back in the day. That was what inspired me to go to Peru. When I went to Peru, everyone I worked with in Maryland, they were going there to do the mountains and they come back and they show me these photos. I’m like, “Why didn’t you guys stop and boulder? This looks better than some of the stuff around here.” And the same thing with Johnny and Micah – showed us the photos – we were instantly psyched. And Pete has been out there, and it was just kind of a brainstorming thing. Every time we got together we were like, “Hey, let’s put this trip together. Let’s get this going.” Then we slowly worked it out and wrote up a proposal – this is what we want to do, this is where we want to go – and now we’re going.
MB: Jason, you made that happen.
JK: It wasn’t just me, by any means. Marmot is a huge sponsor for us, and Men’s Journal, and they’re the ones really making it happen.
MB: Marmot’s been really active in supporting climbers…they definitely help a lot of people in their projects.
JK: Yeah, and it’s great that they’re open to a trip like this that’s not a traditional type of trip. You know, that’s what they’re known for, sponsoring trips like that. Not a crazy bouldering trip. I mean, who goes all the way up there to just climb on these little rocks?
DM: You guys… [laughter]
MB: One point you made, people have been climbing/bouldering up there when the weather’s bad, so it definitely has an attraction.
JK: Yeah. And a lot of times they don’t have crash pads; they’re using a Therm-a-rest. Therefore, they’re not able to protect things well and I don’t think you can get extreme if you don’t have the protection. It’s just not set up as well. But we’re going for that and we’ll be psyched. We’ll have a good set-up. Revolution crash pads – all those are out there.
MB: Revolution’s sponsoring you guys on your trip?
JK: Yeah, they’re totally hooking us up with all the pads.
DM: Getting away from the Himalayan trip again. To quote your website, “Climbing always interested me because it is a great way to express yourself using your body. In that way I see climbing as a good artistic outlet.” Extrapolate on that…climbing as art.
Abbey was wearing a "Climbing Is Art" tee shirt, strangely enough.
JK: Yeah. Especially, for instance, the competition. You watch three people try the same thing and each person has their own interpretation of that. It’s the person that can really put that together and make it smooth, that’s appealing to watch. I like to think about that, you know, when I climb. You see someone shaking a lot and you’re like, “Oh man, that’s just not pretty.” Perfect that. Try that again and so next time you do it you’re like, “That felt better. I didn’t feel like I was panicking the whole time.” That type of thing, or just being in control. I think that’s really cool to watch.
DM: But you have, at least in the past, a pretty violent climbing style sometimes.
JK: Yeah…you got to. You got to mix it up. Sometimes be soft and sometimes be hard.
DM: [whispering] That’s what she said…
MB: And why do you say that, Dave? I don’t know of any material that I’ve seen Jason climbing violently, per se.
DM: Dosage II…in So Ill…I don’t know what it was. The arête…where you’re dynoing out to the arête. That’s violent.
JK: Yes. KEE-OSK! You have to yell that.
DM: I yell that all the time. First thing when I wake up. [laughter] You’re known as a highball aficionado…Evilution and The Fly. What drew you to highballing?
JK: I always climbed like that when I was younger. That was the thing. First, you top-rope something, then you lead it, and then you solo it. That was what we did back then, that was the progression. We would just go out and try stuff without pads; there weren’t pads back then. My first pad was a piece of foam from the couch that I drew a little bulls-eye on. We would just do stuff like that and then I think what really attracted me to it was once I started traveling around the states and I started going to really well-established areas like Bishop or Yosemite and being really surprised that there’s all these lines that people haven’t done because they’re a little tall. I mean, some are taller than others, but they’re gems, you know? People are just like, “I don’t know about that one.” But then you climb it and you’re like, “Wow, that’s one of the nicest looking things that I’ve seen here.”
I think that’s still available now when you travel around. You can go to the main area and then you can go around the corner and it’s like some really cool, tall arête thing. And it’s like, “No one’s tried this?” And they’re like, “No, the landing’s a little crazy,” or whatever. But, it just makes for amazing climbing. I think that was the addiction, because then you’d go to another place and you’re like, “Well, what about this? People haven’t tried this.”
DM: But that progression, “first I top-roped, then I led it…” That’s all good and well. That was my progression, too. But then you said, “Then I solo it.” That’s not everybody’s progression…
JK: But back in the day it was, for sure.
DM: You need to have a head for that, though. Talk about that a little bit.
JK: Well, that’s the thing. We didn’t even think about it. I go back there… I looked at this one face that I climbed once and we didn’t have pads at all and we didn’t scope it out or anything. We were just like, “Let’s climb up this face!” Sketchy landing, climbed up the face, and didn’t fall. It was slowly getting into that pattern. Yeah, it was weird. I don’t know why. I don’t know if it was the climbers I looked up to…but I don’t feel like I looked up to any soloers, really. I don’t really promote soloing at all. I don’t know; it was just what we did. But I look at it differently, too, because even though there’s a lot of things that maybe some people consider a solo, but it’s not really a solo. It’s like, you can fall and not die.
MB: Would you say it was the social environment that you were raised in when you started in your climbing that predicated your mindset? Which I thought was really interesting where you said: work it, lead it, solo it. Was that the mindset where you came from at the time?
JK: Yeah, but that was just me. I would go climb by myself a lot of times. So, I’d do some things with an ascender around my chest…work it like that and then do it. A lot of time away from people and just out there…and becoming comfortable with it. You know, you go out every day and you mess around at this one location, you’re going to be really comfortable.
MB: I can understand that. So, you’ve been listening to Jason Kehl, professional climber, here on ClimbTalk, on radio 1190. It’s almost 11:30, now what do you think, Dave? We were going to have maybe Dave Graham, Jamie Emerson…
JK: Oh! Here he isn’t! [laughter]
MB: …Chad Greedy, call us in at 11:30 on ClimbTalk, but it’s not going to happen.
DM: No man, that’s strike two.
JK: Facebook them real quick.
DM: Yeah, let’s Twitter something nasty, or Tweet, or whatever it is…
MB: No. Don’t. So, tell me one more time about where you’re going on your trip, Jason.
JK: We are going to the Zanskar region…
MB: What is that?
JK: Well, we’re flying into Delhi and then we’re taking a van up to Manali. And then we’re going up farther from there, another day or two. That’s basically where the roads stop and that’s where we have to get out and walk two more days. We’ll be at base camp for 38 days.
MB: You’re going to get some good climbing in.
JK: For sure. Hopefully we’ll find some rocks. [laughter] I’ve seen photos of them, so…
DM: I got another question. I’ve been to like ten trade shows, so I know the soul-sucking fluorescent trade floor.
JK: Yes.
DM: The first time I saw you at the trade show – I didn’t know you, of course – you were in a wheelchair, I think. Like, 2003, 2002.
JK: Wheelchair or crutches?
DM: Maybe you were in a wheelchair, with your right or left leg out.
JK: Yeah, that was from the PCA competition. I blew out my ACL falling on the pads weird.
DM: I thought you might have got that highball bouldering.
JK: No, I’ve never hurt myself highball bouldering, which is funny.
MB: So, you’ve never taken bad falls out of control?
JK: I mean, I assume so. I don’t know what’s happening, but it seems like when I injure myself I’m doing something stupid or I’m doing something in the gym and not thinking about it and just kind of relaxed. You’re just in there having fun and something goes wrong.
MB: So, good point you make; in climbing, it’s better if you’re attentive.
JK: Oh, yeah. When you’re in danger you’re more attentive. It kind of heightens your senses.
MB: Your trip to India…not that dangerous, very dangerous? What do you think?
JK: As far as the travel?
MB: All of it.
JK: Medium-dangerous. I’m psyched. I do not know what to expect. I’ve never been anywhere like that and I’ve never been up that high in the mountains. It’s going to be a trip, for sure. It’s going to be an adventure.
DM: When is the media going to start hitting? When will we have access to it?
JK: You’ll have access to the text updates while we’re there, and then immediately after there’ll be a slow progression of the videos releasing every month, maybe. Maybe quicker, once every couple weeks.
DM: Work hard.
JK: Yeah, I’m going to be working on it out there. I’m actually taking another trip afterwards to Spain. I’m flying from Delhi to Barcelona. There’s a new high alpine area in Spain, Hoya Moros. There’re a lot of videos of it online right now.
MB: Where at?
JK: I have no clue. I’m being taken there. He’s psyched [Jason’s friend who lives there], he’s been there, he’s like, “Let’s go.” He can take some time off, end of October. Going to just check it out. There is a pdf online I’ve seen.
MB: Well, thank you for that information. We were talking to Jason Kehl, professional climber, here on ClimbTalk on radio 1190. Smokey…I mean, Squirrel…talk us out!
S: Thank you very much. Enjoy the trip to India. And all you ClimbTalk listeners, have a great night.
JK: Thank you.
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