summer of 1999

"So here it goes....

Just so you can picture me as I write this, I am a grown man, with an
unshaven beard (only two days worth of growth, but still) an am openly
sobbing as I write this.



the following story is about how amoo Moshen ended up in this unusual
video:

Sometime in the summer of 1999, I happened to con Amoo Mohsen to join me
for a rather unusual outing for a special project I had in mind. I had
proposed to him that it would be really cool that if he and I put up the
hardest technical aid climb in Iran....and why not? I had already picked
out a route and scouted the worse possible path way on this cliff, just
outside Tehran. It was going to be an adventure, but what was suprising
was Amoo decided that "YES" he was going to do it.

I can tell you he had let his guard down and even though I could see the
butterflies in his eyes, somewhere deep down he actually was excited to
get himself out there. And yes...there was that special light in his
eyes. The same light that you often saw when there was going to be
adventure, controlled chaos and that fine line between pushing the
enforcement associated with the laws of physics.

I had known Mohsen Mohsenin all of my life. He was a relative. He was a
friend...and he was a god like figure to all the little ones who he had
been in contact with him....by the way, a recurring theme though out his
life.
He had thought my mother how to play tennis. Was a friend of my fathers;
but his relationship with me was centered around the fact that he had
taken the little piece of inspiration brewing in me as a weekend skier
and developed it into "Reza acid" (another story for another time).
Since that day, I was out to impress him however I could.

So that summer day we drove. We drove and we drove. And we talked. We
talked and we talked. And we smoked. We smoked and we smoked.



We spoke about mountains, agriculture, politics, people, America, girls
and various other points. He had his window rolled down and took the
camera and filmed whatever he could. I was soaking up our conversation.
After all I had the legendary Mohsen Mohsenin all to myself for a day.

Finally, we got to the destination.



So we got there. First thing is first. We got out of the car to scout
the wall and the features I had spoken about. He turned to me and made
me promise him that I was not going to do anything dangerous. Dangarous!
Oh no....no danger today. I assured him that this was going to be pretty
easy and he had nothing to worry about. After all I was about to put up
a new route on the Pol-e Khab cliff which we later rated as 5.11 A4+
(whatever that means).

So we divided up the gear and headed up the gently sloping boulder field
to the base of the cliff. He pointed out geological features, weather
patterns, and the minute tiny flowers between the rocks. All of it
pointing to his love of life. As he spoke, my head was somewhere between
the fact that in no time I was about to receive my well awaited
adrenaline dose and demented perspective on life. He continued speaking
and I was not listening. But subconsciously he was hammering in the
"mohsen" standards: "Appreciate it man!"...a decade later things finally
fell into perspective....another story for another time.



Amoo scouted out the base and discussed my propose line. As you can
imagine I was intimidated by the size of the cliff, and the "belly of a
ship" perspective on the route. So in his usual way, he encouraged me to
not to think about it too much and quickly get started. Ay ay captain.
Off we go. Body weight placements stacked up lend themselves to a
ladder and quickly got me to the second pitch. Rope solo? Amoo decided
he was not going to come up. However he kept encouraging me from down
below.

Traffic on the road below had slowed to a crawl. People had spotted us.
Words of encouragement rang from the bottom of the valley: "She still
loves you...don't jump". I am sure we left a memorable impression on one
of those kids glancing up at us in one of those cars. We were the grand
show for the Chaloos tourists. Amoo was having a blast. I watched him
from above as he hiked the cliff and took refuge at the old castle at
the base of the cliff. It was built during the Mongol invasion and since
the color matched the cliff's, Mongols miss it. However it now had been
left bare and looted.



3:30pm.....POP. little bent rurp popped out of the crack. ...i am falling. As I passed the other pieces they also popped. 1, 2, 3, ...14, 15....took a 60 foot fall. The rope held. Life saved. I dangled upside down 300 feet up the cliff. Amoo was at the base of the cliff looking at me. He promised not to tell my parents and encouraged me to get back up and keep at it. Was I in lala land? Did he not see me fall and was simply hanging now by a single belay bolt that was hanging out half way
through it's hole?

I could not come down...I was with Amoo Mohsen and failure meant utter
defeat. I was out to impress him.

5:50 PM......4 pitches of A4+ behind me...solo. last pitch had to wait.
Was getting dark. I could not wait to get down and discuss the
intricacies of this madness. Had I measured up to Amoo Mohsen's
standards? Food for thought.



So that was the day Amoo and I spent on a cliff on the chaloos road. WE
put up the hardest technical aid climb in Iran. One of my hundreds of
memories with the guy.

My amoo was a special guy. He thought people to be outside not for the
sake of competition but for inspiration....that is what differentiated
Mohsen from all the others. His "anything is possible" attitude was
graciously passed on to anyone fortunate enough to have come in contact
with him. If you were even more fortunate, you would have had an
adventure with him, and those that did had a change in perspective
forever. They all ended up LOVING life for the sake of loving it....

No one left to impress. I miss you Mohsen...lots.

Reza