Glossing over a lot of miles here… we drove from Lake Powell down to Phoenix in one day. Stayed a night at the Purple RV Resort then went farther south past Tucson to a little town called Benson where we spent a few nights waiting for the Dingus family to join us for a week at the Cochise Stronghold about ten miles outside Tombstone, AZ. Once they arrived, we made our way to an epic BLM campground where on one side was the sun setting in all it’s colors (California was on fire and smoke had filled the entire area so the sunsets were especially impressive with their fiery reds and oranges.) On the other side was the rock formation at the foot of the Dragoon Mountains that appeared to glow orange from within while the sun set opposite. There were strong mesquite trees to hang our hammocks, and tons of rock climbing (for the mobile) to explore.
The first climbing that was to be done was at the –Peanut Wall–. When they returned to the camp I was regaled with stories about how very, very wrong the climbing ratings had been for that wall. What Ken calls “sandbagged”.
Sandbagged is a phrase that is used a lot in sales, when end of month, quarter or fiscal year projections are requested of the sales force it is common for the sales teams to “sandbag” the numbers. This is where much lower estimates are given than what the reality might dictate. There are two really good reasons for this; first, if the shit hits the fan, you kinda predicted it and are a little protected from numbers not coming in as expected. This happens when a shady liquor store has promised to buy a half a palate of some close out crap that will help you hit goal, but then the store gets shut down for selling to minors, so no sale. Super lame, but at least those numbers might not have been in the projections, leaving a sales rep scrambling to ensure every single other case comes in to they do hit their projected number. Second, is to promise small and deliver big! This is my favorite method, because I always got the be the hero that came in at the last minute to help hit the team numbers. Way to go Lex. In climbing it’s similar to the second version, where the person who put up the route says “oh, gosh! This was super easy!” but really it was insanely hard and is intended to make the person who climbed it first look like a stud (and all subsequent parties to look like Dweebs!!)
The second day of climbing was apparently more of the same, but with desert bushwhacking involved which lead to two phrases. The first “Fuck you Cochise” is courtesy of Dingus who looked like he had spent hours being attacked by cats with all the bloody scratches on his legs. Fun side note about cactus scratches, they itch and burn like crazy. How else would they not be eaten up in such arid places? The second phrase came from the climbing guide book “Cochise Bushwhacking” which basically means “WTF kind of asshole decided that we could walk across this shit without a machete? Everything is trying to kill me!!!” It turns out the climbs were just as sandbagged, and what Ken, Chrissy and Dingus all kept repeating was “it was different.”
Then it was Thanksgiving! Or something, I’m missing a few days in here. But how I tell it is there is finally a rock a very short hike away, so with my walkin’ boot and my trekking poles (finally free of the cursed crutches) I joined them to watch as they all climbed yet another “different” and sandbagged group of climbs. I can now tell you first hand the plants at Cochise are out for blood. All of them have spikes or spines. All of them! That night we made a whole mess of food and Ken busted out the 2000 Taylor Fladgate vintage Port that got 100 points from someone or another. I did taste a little of it, and it’s funny how fast your palate falls away if you don’t drink wine all the time.
Friday was a slow day to start, but we managed to load ourselves into the truck and head to Tombstone to see some sights, look at the funny tourist trap shops, and have lunch at Big Nose Kates. After, I drove the crew around to a bunch of different wineries super close to the Mexican border. The next day was more climbing for the crew.
It was mostly warm, we had camp fires and good laughs. Still…
Fuck you Cochise. ❤
Schaefer Haus 