Two days later, the weather finally let up, and I discovered that there is little on this earth better than a spring day in Boulder, which meant there was only one place to go - Eldo. Four letters that make my palms sweat. Four letters that spark the imagination of every climber. Eldo, which stands for Eldorado Canyon, has spawned some of the greatest climbers our sport has known. I’ve always had a special affinity for the Midwest masters such as Kor, Erickson, and Hersey. Like their Yosemite counterparts, these 10-foot giants pushed the standards of their eras and spurred the imaginations of climbers around the world. I would not be a climber if it wasn¹t for their stories, and I couldn’t wait to touch their stone. 

Without a guidebook, I arrived with the sun and finally got to taste the dawn of my dreams. My warm-up was a run on Layton Kor’s 1957 run around called The Bulge. I should have known this was going to be a wild ride when I found myself 20 feet off the ground and matching monos in a pin scar. Instead, I fooled myself with, “it’s 5.7, how hard can this be?” 200 feet later, I answered the question by stepping up over a bulge (hence, the name of the route) and onto delicate smears with a miserable undercling crimp in my right hand and a bolt close enough to bite down on deriding my lack of protection. My left hand blindly reached, and found, a sidepull and three bladder-tightening moves later I was through the crux. 

Another hour of mixed ratings finally warmed me up to the area before stumbling upon the first pitch of Jules Verne. This Eric Erickson classic was put up in the run-out days of old when bold was king. The opening overhanging jugs led to a series of underclings, ending with a fun stretch of crimps, and the amount of chalk showed me the popularity of the pitch. On top of the main ramp, I looked to the money pitches above, devoid of chalk and holds and shivered at the possibilities. Moving right, I could see all the classics of the area, including the most famous line, The Naked Edge.