Some climbing tales follow such a natural progression of challenge, suspense, victory, and conclusion that it seems more like they were following the script of a TR rather than providing the source material for one. My last trip to Joshua Tree was not one of those trips.

The climaxes in both the climbing achievement storyline and the romantic subplot happened right away with no chance to get involved in the main characters' personal struggles.

The conflict in the climbing achievement storyline came next and was never resolved. There was no conflict in the romantic subplot.

On the third and final day, the main characters get lost and almost nothing happens besides a relaxing, pleasant trek through some funky corridors.

If you don't mind the poor story form of this past weekend's episode of reality usenet, read on...

Saturday:

4 a.m. My alarm goes off. I decide that I hate climbing. What I really like is sleeping.

6 a.m. My hair is in matted wet wads. They are holding the plane for us. Mike is 100 yards away carefully pulling out the gear that he forgot to put in checked baggage so as not to reveal the chock pick with which he secretly intends to menace the flight attendants.

11 a.m. I am going to lead Nurn's Romp (5.8). I realize that I have forgotten my helmet when I'm a foot off of the ground. OK, I am not going to lead Nurn's Romp just yet. I am unreasonably grouchy about this mistake. I need a nap, a nap or a helmet. I have a bad lead head on a good day. I know that starting the day out tweaked is a bad sign. Mike knows it is too. He escapes to the car to get the helmet.

11:05 a.m. I am lizard on a hot rock. Leave me alone.

11:30 a.m. I have a helmet and 30 minutes of rest. I am ready. In spite of the fact that I run out much of the route, I still get hosed by rope drag. I guess I need to get over my fear of extending my potential fall over bulges and roofs. Even though I have to haul up a bunch of rope before each move, I stay calm and enjoy the route as much as rope drag allows.

12:30 p.m. I belay Mike on the Exorcist (10a***). He cruises it. He says I've gotta try leading it. Caroline says that I've gotta try leading it. So I try leading it.

Never mind that J. Tree rock scares me to shivers, and my lead head here sucks. Never mind that I always climb terribly here. Never mind that the hardest crack that I've lead here is 5.8.

The climbing starts with sweet finger jams with a touch of laybacking through the lower crux. I get above it and pop off a foot or two above my last piece. I do this a couple more times, completely focused on getting the move. When I get to the ledge before the upper bolt-protected face crux, I realize that I forgot to be afraid down below. I am prouder of my foray into new mental territory than I would have been of climbing the route cleanly.

I'm not nearly so calm at the upper crux though. It takes a few false starts before I am willing to trust the friction and step up to the juggy horn that will deliver me to the 5.4 top-out section. Even with my hand safely clutching the gigundo horn, I am terrified. But with one deep breath and a few quick steps it's over. And I am psyched that I tried the route on lead.

3:00 p.m. Caroline's turn. We're in no hurry here. She climbs it in a style that resembles mine. We are both happy with our climbs for the same reasons. We'll both be back for the same reasons too.

4:45 p.m. After Alex and Tisha give the route their best shot, I decide to give it another try on TR to see if the problem was in my head or my body. It was in my head.

5:30 p.m. More people meet up with us to head to our rendezvous point at the Gunsmoke Traverse. A couple of friends are waiting for us there. We bring cold beer. A toast will probably be in order.

6:30 p.m. The sparkling diamond on Rose's hand is visible from a hundred yards away.

All morning Dave teased Jim..."This move looks a little, uh, committing."

Three years ago Jim and Rose took their first climbing trip together here. For the past three months he had been searching for the right diamond, planning the right moment at the right place to make his commitment to her official.

Although I have only recently come to know them through Mike, it was an enormous privilege to see how nervously ecstatic they both were and share in their celebration.

9:00 p.m. Caroline, Tisha, and Christie cook up an awesome veggie dinner. I brought some disposable champagne glasses to toast the fiancés in style.

As we hang out around the fire, I squat down by Jim to get a little warmer. I blow the entire seat out of my pants. Thinking that I just let out an earth-shattering fart, he makes a face and then pretends not to hear. God, it was funny.

Sunday:

7:00 a.m. Dave, Mike, and I head over to Headstone to try the 5.8 route. I don't feel like leading. Dave says it's buckets. I still don't feel like leading. I try doing it on TR. I can't find the feet and end up peeling and going for a big swing out over the void around the east face. They hear my screams in China.

I go back to camp and fall asleep on a rock. I wake up and realize that I fell asleep on a rock in someone else's campsite. I guess I needed the sleep.

11:00 a.m. Everyone returns to the Bay Area leaving Mike and I alone for the rest of the weekend. We head up to the Dairy Queen Wall in the Lost Horse Area to try to massage my lead head with some easy cracks.

12:30 p.m. After much screwing around in the parking lot we get to the DQ Wall. There are at least 5 ropes up and about 8 people hanging out having lunch. The most experienced climber and acting guide for the crew says that we can climb whatever we want.

I pull their rope on Mr. Misty Kiss (5.7). I climb OK, but I'm feeling so wound up that I over protect and run out of gear 2/3 of the way up the route. The climbing is the type of hand crack that I'm normally willing to run-out, but nothing doing in my present freaky state. Mike finishes my lead. I clean it and feel like a huge loser.

The group climbing near us is quite nice. They share their band-aids and use their stick clip to get the first bolt of Airy Scene (5.11b) for Mike. They even cheer him on, boulderer-style. Climbing near them makes me feel like I am crashing their climbing party though. Part of the reason why I prefer trad over sport climbing or bouldering is that I like to find myself in quiet places alone or just with my partner. The social scene here is making me nervous. We stay most of the day anyway.

5:30 p.m. We decide to cram a few climbs in before dinner. We stop at Trashcan Rock on the way out of the park. Mike gets his first aid experience on the first few moves of an 11c tip crack on the front side of the formation. The top is much easier, and soon enough there is a lovely TR begging me to give it a shot. In the worst possible style, I frig my way up this thing, but, Lordy, is it ever fun trying. We also do the double cracks and a cool friction climb on the backside before it gets dark.

8:00 p.m. Time for chow. "Do you have the keys?" "I don't have the keys. I thought you had the keys." No keys in the trunk. No keys at the base. Shit. The keys must be on or in the rock somewhere.

8:30 p.m. I catch a ride into town with some Chinese women who had stopped by Trashcan for no discernable reason. Mike stays with the gear-filled car since I had the foresight to roll down the power windows before loosing the keys.

9:15 p.m. AAA: "No locksmith can make a new key for you since it is a rental car."

9:30 p.m. Alamo: "There be a spare hidden in the triple secret location within your rental car."

9:35 p.m. Yucca Valley Yellow Cab: "The driver will be there in 20 minutes."

10:00 p.m. Yucca Valley Yellow Cab: "Is this Melissa? Sorry, the driver (yes, the only one) had an appointment. He's on his way now."

11:00 p.m. I arrive at Trashcan to find Mike asleep in the front seat with the window rolled up. He either found the keys we lost or found the triple secret hidden keys.

The keys were at the base of our climb. Tikkas are lightweight, but they kind of suck.

Monday:

11:00 a.m. We arrive at the Outback area to do a couple classic cracks. I am not feeling very bold, but the climbing is fun. The area is quiet and peaceful. The sun is warm. There are no other climbers. Utterly pleasant.

3:00 p.m. We arrive at the turnout across from Jumbo Campground to climb at Conan's Corridor. We think that this is a good choice for our final stop due to its high density of good routes and its proximity to the road.

We get very lost, but it's hard to care. The narrow corridors are truly awesome. The stair-like dikes make me want to run to the top of every formation. I succumb to the urge and find them less stair-like on the way down.

We come upon an absolutely perfect handcrack on a formation that is not in our guide and climb it. The rock is a lot rougher and the crystals much looser when it has seen little or no traffic.

We try to un-lose ourselves so that we can get a bite and not miss our plane.

5:00 p.m. There is just enough time for one roadside route. We stop by the Lower Right Ski Track and have a look at it. Then we look at each other and, in a sort of telepathic agreement, have a beer instead.