I pulled a U-turn into the El Portal gas station, and my heart sank. Three simple words scribbled on the white paper sign covering the payphone spelled disaster for my weekend: Out of Service. No way to reach my climbing partner. From now on, I'd figure out the Where and When with my would-be partner before a pre-dawn start and driving a couple hundred miles.

It was an exceptionally beautiful morning, the first time I had seen Highway 140 in the daylight. Green rippled hills in the pastureland gave way to fiery orange slaterock in crisp straight lines, as the road slowly climbs alongside the river. Snowmelt tumbled over white polished riverstones, and light green buds were appearing at the tips of brush and trees. The morning sun played on all in the way that only a winter sun can do, making all look warm and cool at the same time. It was glorious. But I still didn't have a climbing partner for the weekend.

And then the gods of all religions joined forces, creating a circumstance of such divine providence that it rivaled celestial creation and the whisper of life. Just at that moment, with guidebook in hand and head half-craned out the window, I pulled into the parking lot at Arch rock for my first ever gander. And hey! that guy standing over by the restrooms is Steve! (aka supertopo SPYork) Not my partner for the weekend, but I've climbed with spyork twice he's a welcome site. Then out come Gary and Ed Hartouni, rounding out the off-width rat-pack. I've never seen them in person, but modern science and supertopo make that irrelevant. One minute later and I would have missed them. I can hardly believe my good fortune, and marvel at the mysterious ways in which cosmic serendipity places us exactly where and when we're supposed to be. I should remember that more often when things appear to be going badly.

I tag along with them to Cookie Cliff, happy to be heading toward whatever is on their mind. We pull up to Elevator Shaft, and the first lead is all about Steve. Unless you've watched a video of Steve posted over at WideFetish.com, most of you won't know what I'm talking about. But I can assure you that the first time watching him climb is shocking. So's the second and third. It's not something you should bring small children to witness unless you want them to become wizened and calloused to the world at a tender young age. He cusses something fierce. And my heart hurts from the adrenaline jolts every time he lets out that blood-curdling scream signaling his imminent peel and crash... but somehow he pulls through.

Meanwhile I'm over to the left sizing up Outer Limits, deciding if my cajones are big enough to on-site lead this one. Not yet. But after I get on toprope and cruise it, I realize that my cajones are the only missing ingredient. Next time I'll be bolder. This is a climb I can come back to again and again... absolutely awesome hand and finger crack, steep, but very doable with plenty of rests.

Another local guy named Gary shows up to solo on a traxion, and instead hops on our ready toprope. While we're all hanging out enjoying the day, along come Bob and Zander! So now it's turned into a full-blown NorCal Chapter of Supertopo offwidth hounds. Zander can't sit still long enough to wait for a route to open up, so he and Bob go around the corner for Meat Grinder. And after everyone else has been on Outer Limits, there's too much Offwidth Mojo in the air to avoid. I ask for takers on Vendetta, and get a whole lotta silence, and then someone reminds me that was supposed to be on Sunday according to my published agenda.

But Steve brought these damn Valley Giants that could keep a battlecruiser anchored in a Category 5 hurricane. We can't let that go to waste. So over to Left Side of Cookie we head. And it's all my lead. We skipped the 5.9 chimney first pitch and traversed across the 3rd class trail. That's a definite DFU traverse, makes you pay attention with a full pack on. So on to the gory details. Well, there's not much to tell that hasn't been told a thousand times. Grunting, moaning, panting chest, forehead plastered to the rock in sweaty defeat. And that was the first five feet. So I flailed about like that for a while, hung a coupla times on the valley giant six feet off the ground. Then I got it together, pushed that giant ahead of me through to the top of the pod. After some master ninja moves seldom seen, I heaved into the final lieback and topped out with a strong urge to vomit. It turned out to be a good OW day, everyone saw the top.

Evening saw us all assembled on the grass near the cars, downing beers (or Odwalla in my case), swapping snacks, and telling tall tales of old climbs. It was a beautiful end to a beautiful mellow day.

But it wouldn't be a nutjob story if there wasn't some element of poor planning or foolhardy thinking that leads to more adventure than I bargained for. As the gang piled into their cars for the trip back to the bay, my thoughts returned to something I noted on the morning drive in. Long about Manteca, I realized that I forgot my sleeping bag. So I'd be spending the night in my bivy sack wearing every bit of clothing in my car that would fit. Not a big deal in summer, but it was still pretty cold here. And then I'd have to stir up a partner for the next day, with no cellphone reception, no supertopo, no mobile gmail, no blackberry email. Oh, the horror!

Again fate saved me from myself. I took the civilized route and ate an expensive dinner at the motel in El Portal, and finally found a payphone. I called home to see how things were going, and turns out my daughter had a fever all day and my wife needed a break. I got enough grunts out of my system on Left Side of Cookie, so it wasn't the end of the world for me to head back early. By 11pm, I was putting a cool washcloth on my daughter's hot forehead and locking eyes with my beautiful smiling wife.

I definitely turn into a pain in the @ss if I don't log my hours outside. To borrow a line from the Shining, "All work and no play makes nutjob a dull boy." But heck it just takes a little bit of that Yosemite magic to make everything else in life seem better, make my wife more beautiful, make my kids funner to play with, and keep a smile on my face.

God bless y'all believers, may random chance happen to work in the favor of y'all atheists, and may the agnostics receive a bit of both.