The trip we made to the Santa Monicas...

For those of you who dont know, I love to rock climb. I picked it up after working at a summer camp on and off during my college career and I cant seem to get enough of it now. I've always been a bit of a monkey, climbing trees, lightposts, telephone poles and what have you since I can remember. But in climbing the rocky face of a wall, crack or slab so that my fingers pinch and sweat -- my chalk-stained hands slipping from the contoured surface until they find some niche to hold my weight-- I feel a sense of freedom and fear that I cannot experience anywhere else. Climbing teaches me about myself and stretches me beyond what I would ordinarily experience.
That said, my climbing buddy April and I decided to climb at an area in the Santa Monica mountains known as Echo Cliffs. Pre-dawn, we packed our gear into her Honda Civic, stopped for snacks and water, and were well on our way from Fullerton to Thousand Oaks. It was a Saturday morning and we drove with the sun rising at our backs, saluting our trip. We hit traffic on the 101, growing weary of the concrete and skyscrapers, desperately hoping to be rid of the city-scape. An hour and a half later, we pulled off the freeway at Westlake Road, made a left, and headed into the hills.
The Santa Monicas are located between the beach at Santa Monica (where the 10 meets Pacific Coast Highway) all the way up to Thousand Oaks and contains some of the best climbing in Southern California. The rock is a volcanic conglomerate called brecchia and doesn't trash your hands. The especially nice perks though, are three-fold: 1. The climbing area is large enough that we don't run into a lot of people, 2. There is shade all-day and we don't get run out by the scorching sun and, 3. There is a multitude of water holes close by, should you feel the need to swim.
The approach is about 2.1 miles over a well-worn path, so that you climb upward half of the time, then dip into the valley and skirt its farthest border, where the feet of the hills meet the wide ravine-like stretch. A mile and a half into the hike, we made a right and scrambled down a gully filled with boulders and tipsy choc-stones. Navigating the bends in the road, we came to the valley floor and were happy at the shade and sound of running water.
We couldn't have asked for a better area. Sycamore trees abound in the grotto -- the area we were climbing -- and provide enough shade and root-work to have a place to set our gear, find a comfortable position and take a nap if need be. We immediately worked out a route, April leading it and I belaying her. The bolts shone in the din of the sunlight, her quickdraws slipping over an end, and the rope following quickly. After about an hour and a half, some cursing, a cramped neck and a lot of work, she made it to the top of Gameboy, the 5.8 that climbed like a 5.10. She celebrated above me while I removed my camera from its pouch, snapped off a few shots and knocked back a gulp from my Nalgene bottle. We did this back and forth throughout the day, taking turns. After climbing a bit at the head of the grotto, we moved into the nook under the trees to avoid the sunlight that nearly burned our necks. The climbing there, too, couldn't have been better.
By the time we left, we had each ticked off three new climbs and were none the worse for wear. The drive home was nice -- I took a nap after sticking my head out the window at 70 mph -- and the sunlight found its way to our backs, quietly and alone.