Traveling so much, no time to write...

Man, I need to wake up from these weird day dreams about ladybugs...

I'm on my way to North Carolina in six hours for the bomber competition/slideshow event as a speaker (and MC) with ClimbUpSoKidsCanGrowUp.Org, which will take place in the hometown of the hospitable people and their racecars. There I will have a nice, relaxed week to prepare hard mentally for the Kranj Cup. For now I'm chilling with Christy Shoe, from the organization. (Take THAT surname and make crepes with it!)

So, on the topic of Siurana!

Siurana was like this: Parties. 7C+s in the sun. Fire-dancing. And the next morning, a coffee breakfast followed by the much-welcomed and slightly alarming, ritualistic "Who's a good dog? WHO'S A GOOD DOOOOOOG!?!!".

Over nine days I climbed in Siurana, Margalef and Montsant with really funny belay partners. We usually hopped in the back of someone's van or car, pfwat-pfwat-pfwatted to the chosen crag past thousands of potential routes, projects, and fisuras to the base of 20-meter bolt-lines.

I met some Icelandic dirtbags! Said hey to Chris and Daila, and Chax - their black labrador - and hooked up with the true bums: Bomby Domby, A-wax... the latter actually gave me a ride to Barcelona to catch my flight.

I realized, quickly after, that I'd forgotten to pay for the camp. ("Shizah!!!")

Sadly, my ass - er, buttocks, rather - was (were?) kicked on 7a the first day, 7c+ the next, and finally 8a. There was not much time for sends; not with the Petzel group rocking on epic projects. Sorry 8a. :-/

Hey - I also met Miha, Marco, and Toni (who owns the camping) during all this craziness!

Alright, the hotel kitchen is waking up. It's 4:35am and I need to grab a pair of shoes for the road. My hiking boots have fallen apart, and I've been walking in fuzzy green slippers for the past three days. They're quite comfortable. :)