Exotic Normalcy

Majka Burhardt at work, Spanish Style. Photo by Boone SpeedI’m sitting at a table under a grape vine, with a reverse pyramid of identical green fruit dripping from the vine. I’m in Spain. Even breakfast seems exotic. I’m here for work.

No one really believes me. Not even the gas station attendant. I walked inside his small shop to buy a Coke this afternoon and he asked me how my vacation was.

“Oh,” I said, “I’m here working.” It was 97-degrees outside in the sun. It’s summer, and everyone in Spain knows it.

“Trabajo?” he said, winking.

“Si,” I refused to wink back while I paid for my drink.

“Buen Viaje,” he said as I walked out the door.

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La Petite Epic: Whipped Installment

La Petite Epic: Learning the Ropes, French Style

(Part of an on-going series on my blog of posts from my column Whipped, for Climbing Magazine. October, 2004 Installment)

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It all began with an overhanging limestone pocket at Wild Iris. Actually there were two of them, and, due to their distance apart and the lack of other features surrounding them, I was supposed to be holding onto one and heel hooking in the other. The problem was, however, that I am unfamiliar with the art of heel hooking. The concept seemed simple enough but each time I tried to lift my left leg into the pocket, I felt like I was beginning an upside-down cartwheel.

“Try the Gaston!” yelled my partner Charlie.

“Who?” I screamed as my arms gave way and I launched into the space below.

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