I’m really good at destroying my pants while climbing. Cracks aren’t terribly forgiving. You can find me awkwardly humping the rock to top out more often than not. 99% of the time I find myself scooting on my butt on an approach or descent. Add in my slob factor and it’s basically a recipe for disaster when it comes to ever looking socially acceptable after climbing. The Black Diamond Creek Pants were the answer to my prayers.
Friday afternoon, a week before Red Rock Rendezvous, I frantically dialed the number of the dude organizing the entire festival. In the span of an hour, en route to Joe’s Valley, I managed to completely freak out and convince myself that my measly trad skills were too measly for an advanced gear placement and anchors class. I anxiously rifled through the website, hoping for something, or anything, to tell me that I’d be okay. But somehow things looked a little different from when I bought my early bird ticket back in November. And this time around? There were skill levels associated with all the descriptions. Crap.
