LOCALadk Magazine

LOCALadk 30 dirt lot in a small desert town with a car that wouldn't start and that I couldn't lock (because I would have had no way of unlocking it). I started to wonder how I would make it back to L . A . for my son's wedding. Then came the kicker: when I opened one of the doors, the theft alarm went off. Thoroughly dejected, I wandered into Nomad Ventures, a climbing shop, and asked the clerk if he knew anyone who would drive me to Geolo- gy Tour Road and help me look for the fob. I'd pay the person $50. The clerk said he'd call his friend Matt. "Do you think fifty bucks is enough? " I asked. "Probably, since until recently he was living in his car." In a few minutes Matt showed up in a beat-up Outback. He drove to Geology Tour Road at a fright- ful speed, one hand on the wheel. Again, I failed to find the fob where I had changed clothes. We started walking up the road. I dragged a rake, while Matt went on ahead. Our assumption was that I had removed the fob from my pants pocket and placed it on the fender or hood of the car. Matt walked more than a half-mile before turning around. I figured the fob would have rattled off long before then as the road was quite bumpy. When Matt caught up with me, I suggested we try searching the area where I had parked to climb the rock pile. "What kind of car did you say it was? " he asked. "A Jeep Wrangler." Grinning, Matt raised his hand and dangled the key fob. I could have kissed him. Instead, I Venmoed him $50, gave him an extra $20 for gas, and bought him dinner at the funky Joshua Tree Saloon. As we ate, he told me a little of his story. Now 24 years old, he had traveled around the country living the life of a dirtbag climber, doing odd jobs and sometimes eating out of garbage cans. He liked Joshua Tree and planned to stay. He worked at Nomad Ventures and as a rock-climbing guide. I had two days left in Joshua Tree, so I asked Matt if he could guide me. Unfortunately, he had to work in the shop both days, but he knew some- one who was available. The next afternoon I met Tiowa Reynolds of Summit Climbing Guides at Quail Springs, a picnic area in the park. We drove through a downpour to get there, and it looked like more rain was coming. To escape the storm threat, Tiowa suggested we drive farther into the park to place called Stirrup Tanks. It proved to be a good choice. Above: The author enjoys some top-roping at last Left: Guide Tiowa Reynolds and the authoratop Hid- den Tower after a day of climbing. Opposite: One of the crack climbs from the trip. Opposite Bottom: The author made it to the wedding of his son and new daughter-in-law, Nathan and Megan.

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