The Line of the Week
Wine & Limestone – Rock Climbing in Espana
Bottom line is that I had to get outta town! Morale was low, town was dead and I figured that maybe I was the sacrifice that Ullr, the snow god needed to bring on the pow to the basin. I really had no plan except that I knew a crew in Spain; have camera, have time, have money, will travel!
The text came in a week or so back from Reuben Shelton and said that he and Matt were at the airport and that I should meet them in a town called Siurana in Spain. They said they figured that I was the type of dude who would hop a plane last second and join them. I bought a new pair of La Sportiva Miura’s, packed a backpack, grabbed my travel guitar and boarded flight 69 from LAX to Barcelona. I figured that this how life needs to be lived…you grip and rip it, that’s all.
I slept the entire way across the Atlantic, woke up, slammed a couple beers, babbled a few words in Espanol and worked my way through customs. My cousin who is abroad in Rome had a girlfriend from Barcelona and to make the story even better she snatched me from the airport, gave me a place to crash, a shower and asked me if I was tired. “Why, I kindly responded?” “It’s my friend’s birthday and a bunch of us are going out and it’s Saturday night. Oh yeah, she added. She is a twin.” All I could do was laugh at that point. The next thing I know I’m at a table at a restaurant in Barcelona, sitting down for dinner at midnight with eleven 22-year old girls. It was priceless. Fresh off the plane, confused, jet lagged with a giant smile on my face. I quickly opted not to try and understand anyone as it was too difficult and the sangria and wine were in abundance.
We finished dinner at 1:30 or so a.m and after making sure that I didn’t need sleep we hit the town. We stopped at a BP gas station bought a bottle of Ballantino’s whiskey, put it back and went to a night club. We danced till dawn (me and y las chicas). I woke up at 4pm, ate a meal and got on a train to some town I never heard of, got picked up by Matt, wound through the mountains and into Siurana. I never had a chance to blink.
Since then three days have gone by. The weather is perfect, the wine flows instinctively like the salmon of Capestrano, and the the climbing is out of this world. The rock that surrounds the town of Siurana as well as the other small villages is perfect, finger-pocketed limestone. We eat, sleep, drink and send. We trash talk one another until the sun goes down. Like the Peyton Manning of old, sometimes it’s those audibles called at the line that make the most perfect plays.
Stay tuned for volume two – next Wednesday…
To see more Climbing shots from Spain, check out:
The Line of the Week is a weekly photo piece by Ryan Salm featuring some of Tahoe’s finest athletes doing whatever we deem rad. We will be using the term “Line” loosely to describe anything resembling chutes, big airs, pointers or any general madness. All images are the property and copyright of Ryan Salm Photography. All images are only to be used in conjunction with the Line of the Week. Any other usage must be cleared in writing by Ryan Salm.