Check out of hostel early and go to pick up car. It's a Chevrolet. And fucking massive.
Sack it over the Bay Bridge to Oakland. Thankfully driving in San Francisco isn't too bad. Reach Si and Jackie's without incident.
Go shopping with Si and Robin, their (sort of) landlady. Trader Joes = Aldi. Wholefoods Market = Waitrose. They go to the latter for their 'bits.'
Off to Mortar Rock with Si and Will, their (sort of) landlord. Warm up on a board in Berkeley called the Dungeon. It's OK, but probably not worth travelling 5,000 miles for.
Mortar Rock is steep, sharp and suburban. And hard. And also not worth travelling 5,000 miles for. This opinion could be because I fail on pretty much everything I try. Including a V9, a V8, a V6 and a V5. Bo.
Si is trying a V12 of Greg Loh's called Chinese Connection. Until I check the guide I think he's talking about Greg Lowe, backpack innovator and apparent V12 beast. Si does OK but no cigar this time.
Eat a sausage and some courgette (referred to in these parts as zucchini) back at Si's. Try to watch Nalle crushing Rockalnds, Switzerland and Font into piles of dust. Can't stay awake and nod off. But not before Jackie goes on a (rather clumsy) rampage with an antique folding screen. Oh dear.
2 comments:
how dare you refer to me as a landlord. I think good friend would be more appropriate. At least I hope fuking so.
Oh yea, many a world class climber have travelled 10's of thousands of miles to sharpen there skills at the dungeon board on their way to pissing on some of the finest blocs the U.S has to offer.
My eye now firmly planted on the musings of this blogs fine author.
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