After dropping Marshal off at the greyhound, I drove through Tennessee into Alabama. Why Alabama you ask. Well, let me tell you, Alabama is host to some of the best and most unique bouldering in North America. Horse Pens 40 is on top of a “mountain”, 45 mins north of Birmingham. Huge rounded sandstone slopers the size of beach balls, and beautifully comfortable edges. It’s not only the style of climbing that makes HP40 what it is, but also the concentration of boulders. From one end of the boulder field to the other is a 15 min walk, and the whole thing is packed with blocs. Corridors between boulders are lined with classic problems, and everywhere you turn is another line that begs to be climbed.
I arrived on a Wednesday, it was about 10:30 PM local time, and I was tired from driving all day. I exited off the highway, and stopped at the gas station to fill up on gas and water (I didn’t know what amenities were available on the mountain). This particular gas station seemed to be the local Wednesday night hangout for all the guys with big trucks. I have never seen so much camo, or heard so many “Y’alls” in my life. Leaving the gas station I had to squeeze between 2 Ford F-9000s meanwhile being glared at by their bucktoothed owners. With a glimpse in to the local demographic, and a full tank of gas, I headed towards HP40. Down Hwy 35, right on county road 42, and up the “mountain”. As I made a couple switchbacks the air grew foggy and it became very difficult to see. I slowed to a crawl, and kept on driving. Ten minutes later I was at the HP40 gates. It wasn’t raining, but everything was soaked. Everything. As soon as I stepped outside, the humid air cut its way through my layers, and sent a chill through me I will not soon forget. I took a minute to glance around at my fellow campers in their nylon tents, and to thank my lucky stars that I wasn’t setting up a tent, but getting back in to a deliciously warm van.
The next morning, everything was still wet but a wind was doing its part to dry out the rock. Not unlike Squamish, the boulders in HP40 are a short jaunt from the camping. I spent an hour running around the forest touching holds here and there, scoping out the prime lines. After a pot of coffee, and some breaky, it was boulder time.
Now, 7 climbing days and 3 rest days later, I am sore. Holy crap am I sore. Climbing in the Red for 8 weeks did not get me into boulder shape. It certainly did not get me ready for the squeezy slopery nature of the HP40 rock.
Ciao for now,
AQ
