Tiffany Hensley

Tiffany Hensley

Alive 18 years, she's been competing over a decade in youth and big dog competitions. She likes yoga, parcour, and shouting hello to people on the road, where she feels at home with just a climbing bag, two medicine balls and a bar of 87% cacao (chocolate is the evil twin of white magnesium). She blogs prolifically from a traumatic overdose of literature as a child, mumbling things like where she's headed, who she's tackled, and what she sees on the surface of the world - nothing barred (but mostly climbing-obsessed). Loves roaring, circus trickery, and culinary iconoclasm (curry yogurt with goji berries?). But mostly, quietly focusing on the crux of 30-foot boulder problem. Back from a car roll-over on the way from one crag to another, newly broiled from the World Games in Kaohsiung in Taiwan, she's lately been hidden among sumo wrestlers, international sky-divers, dragon boat racers, and even the US Frisbee team (well, technically, it's flying disc). Now, you can fully stalk her on her blog - wherever she is, what's she eating (her culinary iconoclasm) and what she thinks about your problems.

boulder problems.

Her sponsors are family, her friends the best spotters, and climbing, her life. ROAR?!

Blog#3 October

Hello from Céuse!

I'm bouncing around Céuse for another week before I take the train to Spain (if there are funds enough!) to join forces with the Petzel Roc Trip in Siurana before my flight out. Fecking awesome! The Polish girls and a German belay boy filled me in on Siurana before they left.

Then a Canadian Orc who played in one of the LOTR movies (you can see his foot for a half-second in one shot!!) gave us the download on places in the Rockies and Squamish. We conjoined our brains to make a map for bouncing from crag to fabulous and bum-filled crag.

The other day I was accosted by some farm animals on the way up to the crag. There was a really scary cow. His eyes were red. I kinda squirmed and then took a path to the right that would let me sprint back to the safety of the tents. There are some wolves here in Céuse that ate seven sheep too. Man, Céuse is a freaking scary place!

After a month here in the camping I'm still a total noob in French - strangely I've heard a larger collective of: German (Das cun ish nisht feirstaen), Spanish (chido; gringo, and some YouTubes of Killer Pollo), Polish (Divai! Divai!), Hebrew (from the Israelis), Arabic (Gibal=Montanya, and "I love bananas"), Czech (ehm, I think Dorbie=Ok), and some Dutch. These languages usually come in a clusterfunk of excited cries when it's raining and all the climbers are mashed into the barn where they share space with kittens, two horses, a pony, a woody, and the well-abused international ping-pong table where I learned many crucial and highly send-crucial swear words.

We've also been making tons of pancrèpes, which are an important part of our daily nutrition to crush harder! :)






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