Of Mice and Maple

Furry creatures and big falls.

Some people find mice to be horrifying: Conjuring up images of satan and death. Other find them benign and even somewhat cute. After all, they are nature's vacuum cleaner. Previous to last night, I was always of the mindset of the latter. So they run around you stuff when you camp. So they may even run across my toes when I'm sleeping. Yeah.. they have huanta (sp?) virus, but just don't go sticking your head in mouse's poop and you'll be o.k.. Well, that was before I owned a small r.v. with lots cool places for mice to hide.

Let me go back to the days previous to catch you up on where I am. Skip this part if you don't really care about climbing.
On Saturday, I returned from Sacramento, hopes high that I'll be able to pick up the van and have no more car troubles. The pick up when flawlessly. Rather than go directly down to maple canyon, I decided I could use one more city night before heading off into the land with such names of towns as Mt. Pleasant, Nephi, Moroni, and Manti. I called my friend Dan Morris who is the brother of Josh Morris, the super cool guy who lives in Chiang Mai and has done most of the development of the climbing there. Rather responsibly, I might add, but more on that later.
Dan and I went out to his friend's converted warehouse space to a little party, drank 3.2 beer all night, never really got drunk and talked to some interesting people.
The next day found us in Maple where we climbed for 2 days. We spent the end of the second day at a place called the compound (sure wish I had a photo of it, but that will have to wait until megan returns). We both got worked on a pretty cool 12c called GunTower. It has a meaningful crux right at the end after pulling out what must be a 45 degree overhanging wall for about 8 or 9 bolts. Pretty stout but fun. The second day was spent futzing around on 11's of some sort or another and then ended up at the minimum crag where I got on a 12b called afterburner or something. On my second go, I got to the anchors without falling but then somehow just didn't see the finish jug and ended up pumping myself to oblivion trying to clip the anchors. I even tried grabbing the anchors, but by that point, I was too pumped to hand onto draws. I took the whip, and it was a pretty big one. The last piece was a good 6 feet below my feet. However, the route is long and overhanging, so the fall was fun and squishy. I suppose I could say I redpointed the climb and just decided to take the whip in celebration, but I feel like I'll need to go back and do it again soon.
Well... the night that Dan and Ryan stayed at the campsite, we made a fire, drank thai whiskey and stayed up a little too late. I had spaced out and left the van open for hours and hours while we joked away the evening. Additionally, I had opened the compartment next to the fridge to see into the inner working of the fridge to try to fix the damn thing and left it open. This grants access to any small fury creature to the unmentionable parts of the van. Places where only small critters can go (and perhaps die). I get the bed all ready, climb up and relax for a long peaceful slumber. Then I hear the little fellow (i was naive and thought there was just one). So, I think, I'll lure him out of the van's hiding spots with cheese curds. Then, and this is where the plan seemed to make sense at the time, will wait in the loft and when I see him, I'll throw my flip-flop at him and push him out the open side door and then my troubles will be over. I even brought a couple of flip flops up in the loft with me just in case I missed the first time. So there I am, 3 in the morning, headlamp pointing on the floor, my arm hanging out of the loft and I'm ready as I can be to push that little sucker right out the door. 15 minutes goes by and I finally see the champ, but he won't run over to the open door to get the cheese. 30 minutes in he runs to the cheese but I miss him. 45 minutes in, no sign of a mouse. 60 minutes in, I'm furious and have to finally give up. So, I think, I'll leave the side door open because maybe he'll want to go back to his family in the morning and just leave the van.
the next day dawns, I climb all day, say goodbye to Dan and Ryan and go back to the van to make a delicious meal of sausage, bell pepper and pace picante sauce all reduced and put over pasta. Yummy. It starts to get dark, and then I hear the mouse. He's still in the car, dammit. O.k. I can outsmart the mouse. I set up a large cutting board with the lid of my Dutch oven propped up with a rock attached to a string. I slide some peanut butter under the lid, crawl on the seat with my headlamp on and wait ever so quietly. After about a half hour he pokes his little head out of the refrigerator exit. My adrenaline starts to pump, he slowly makes his way under the lid, my muscles tighten and I pull the rock out swiftly catching the bugger under the lid. I let out a loud "Yes!" and dance a celebratory jig. I take the cutting board and lid, walk down the road some and release my rascally rodent into the wild (presumably to go off and be with his family- cute little guy).
Time for bed. No more mice. Life is good. Then... at about 3 in the morning I am woken to the sound of scratching around the car. There are more! I crawl out of the loft, set up the trap and crawl back up waiting for him to come around. Only five minutes this time and I pull out the rock and catch another one. No sooner do I release this one do I hear another one. O.k.- whatever, there are some mice in my car. The might leave some poop, they may even eat some food, but what happens if they die in the depths of the car, or have babies or never decide to leave. I start to explore various parts of the car and find a nest made of various packagings of my food. I go to the "secure" food compartment and find little holes in all the packaging. I've got to get these guys, no matter how many there are. I set the trap, climb back up and after 45 minutes of staring at the ground, I catch another one. I'm done for the night now. I don't care if there is another mouse, because tomorrow, I'm buying 10 mouse traps and setting them all around the car. I don't care about catching them live anymore. I want them gone!
For the rest of the night, I keep waking up to the sounds of scratching but choose to ignore it. I will kill them all tomorrow. They can only do so much damage in one night. Marshall: 3, Mice: 4 hours of my life.
I get up this morning to poop all around the van and drive to Mt Pleasant to buy mouse traps. However, once I'm at the store, my heart turns soft and I buy live traps. I sure hope they work. Wish me luck!

Love, Marshall