Remembering Owen Griffing

It's been awhile since I've put up an entry, mostly because life seems to just move from one adventure to another.  Sitting down to blog is time consuming.  But today I need to.  Today I need to remember a friend who is no longer with us.  A friend who was called home much too early in my estimation.  Owen Griffing.  Even as I type his name I'm still in disbelief.

Can't be him.

I misread that Facebook post.

It's really Owen talking about his father or something.  It can't be him...we just emailed a week or two ago.

I see Brian's post with a picture and his condolences...and I realize the worst.  Shock.  Utter shock.  This isn't happening.  I talk to Dave and Kelly and all of us realize what's happened.  Whisky-Tango-Foxtrot.

I flashback to when I first met up with him at a Carderock Wednesday.  I had just gotten back into climbing after a few years off.  Life was changing for me and for the better.  The Mountaineering Section of the PATC became a great source of friendship for me and Owen was one of the first people I met.  Being about 20 years my senior he seemed more like a father figure type to me.  Not that I have a bad relationship with my father or anything (love my dad:-), but Owen was more like a father figure I could climb with and hang out with.  Maybe he was more like how I pictured my dad would've been had he been into climbing.  I dunno.  All I know is that we quickly became friends and we shared our climbing expertise.

Owen never had any designs on climbing really hard lines or anything.  He climbed to just have fun and enjoy the route.  He carried these enormous tri-cams, the ones that are so big that the head-plates are riveted together.  I remember the first time he broke them out.  We were headed up Conn's West at Seneca Rocks and I asked him what the hell they were for. "In case we run into any bears!  Duh!"

Another Seneca trip had us camping at Seneca Shadows.  Owen preferred to sleep in the bed of his truck that weekend while I was in my tent.  No worries...we still drank some Old Chub Scotch Ale together and had a great time.  If not for us camping and climbing there that weekend I wouldn't have met my good friend Kelly, who was camping next door with two female friends.  Owen had gone to sleep early and I invited myself to their campfire.  The next day Owen led Roy Gap Chimneys (in some disgusting humidity I'll never forget) and then called it a day.  He needed to get back home and I understood.  I linked up with Kelly and have been climbing with him ever since.

Numerous other adventures blur together.  Buzzard Rocks, Seneca, Great Falls...a rescue class we did at Marty Comiskey's gymnastics gym while it poured down rain outside. 

The best way to learn

Owen and me both smirking for the camera

And then I remember him talking about his hikes and exploring.  He talked about a couple places he had checked out looking for undiscovered climbing but had so far come up empty.  He told me about going out to Big Schloss and how much he loved the place.  That struck a chord.  Over the years I'd been out there a zillion times, both hiking and on my mountain bike.  I'd soloed some climbs out there and just loved the thrill of the exposed rock with its impressive views in all directions.  Anyone who loved that place as I did was a kindred spirit.

I told Owen about a little place outside Winchester that my friends own; a campground called The Cove.  I knew there was some rock there but I'd never really gone exploring.  What we found blew us away.  So much rock to be explored.  All the years I'd been right there by it and yet never found this little gem.  And so it was that day when I took Owen out there that we had that "eureka!" moment.  The look on his face when we first found The Easter Wall was priceless.  We kept walking, kept staring up at the cliff walls.  Shocked.  Dumbfounded.  The hardest thing to do that day was to stop looking and actually climb something.  We did what we could that day and then let some others in on the secret.  We called ourselves The Old Man's Climbing Society (OMCS).  We cut some trails and then cleared out other climbs.  Collectively we put in hundreds of hours of work.  Owen recognized the area as having great potential for working with new climbers, particularly new lead climbers who want to learn to place gear, build anchors and climb easy routes.  His lines "Barking Spiders" and "Weasels" were exactly what he wanted: fun, easy, and good for novices.  He'd follow me on a harder line sometimes only to look at me 3/4 of the way up and say, "I'm good.  It's beer-30."

Pondering how to move the block

Owen's "solution"

We worked hard at that place to get some trails in, clear out the brush, clean rock, bolt lines and establish climbs.  And afterwards we'd sit on the tailgate of his truck for a bit and shoot the shit.  Owen was never one to hang around too long though...too much to get done back home.  I understood and never game him any crap about it.  The past year though has seen all of us take a break from it.  I'll spare you the details but suffice it to say that it's a pay-for-access place.  Still, Owen saw the potential with me.  He realized that it's a great place to learn to climb with a lot of cool stuff (camping, swimming, etc) nearby.  He knew that there is so much more out there to be done and that we couldn't possibly keep this to ourselves...it just isn't right.  He often told me that people will decide if they want to pay the entrance fee or not, just let them decide.  He also impressed on me that we need the help developing it.  So we'll put it out there.  It's truly what I know Owen wanted for this place.  How do I know that for sure?  I'll tell ya...

I was climbing in Boulder Canyon, Colorado last week...the day Owen left us.  For absolutely no reason at all the names of those climbs Owen put up at The Cove came into my head.  I was laughing at the names, remembering when and how he came up with them.  The thoughts stuck with me all day and I kept coming back to it.  But for the life of me I couldn't figure out why I was thinking about them.  Only later did I realize what that was all about.  When I later realized he was gone, I knew it had been him.  His goodbye.  Getting the last laugh on me and I believe telling me to revisit The Cove, keep pushing it and not to let all our hard work fade away.  Let others enjoy the beauty of the place we "found" and explore it for themselves.

He was the real Weasel...with his Barking Spiders.  The Old Man's Climbing Society is down one member, but we're not done there.  Mountain Project, here we come.  And yes Owen, we'll certainly name a new route, "Pot Smoking Hippies".

Rest in Peace my friend...see you 'round that crag in the sky.