Boosa pulled into Rumney, New Hampshire about mid-day last Tuesday. Stoked for some serious climbing and still cruising on all the positive vibes from Burlington, we headed straight for the crag. After a few good climbs we drove over to Plymouth, NH which is about 15 minutes from Rumney. Plymouth, unlike Rumney, has more than one restaurant and is even home to a few little stores!
After grabbing a burrito we hopped back into Boosa in order to find a nice dark place to hunker down for the night. Boosa seemed to have other plans. He stubbornly remained quiet while we turned the key in the ignition over and over.
Fortunately, we were about 100 feet from an auto shop where a young, weathered, pony tail sporting man emerged from the garage. This man, named Mike, happened to be the owner of the shop and assured us he could take a look at Boosa the next day.
That night we went to sleep with the faint green and yellow glow from the neon Subway sign peering through the windows.
Austin and I woke up eager to climb but had a tiny cloud over our heads. It had not even been a week and Boosa was already unhappy with us. Our only option to get back to the Rumney crags was to ride our bicycles. We loaded up our packs, grabbed our road bikes off the rack and set off through the New Hampshire hills toward Rumney. 40 minutes later we arrived at the crag, locked up our bikes, and climbed for a few hours.
One of the great features of the Rumney crags is the convenient swimming hole on Baker River. It was here where we ran into James, a climber and New Hampshire resident who we had met and conversed with the day before.
Tired from the day of biking and climbing Austin decided to ask James for a ride back to Plymouth. James enthusiastically agreed to give us a lift and en route asked if we wanted to grab a bite to eat. We stopped at the Common Cafe and Tavern (the lone restaurant/bar of Rumney) and split a delicious pizza. The three of us filled the tavern air with a wild range of discussion. Militarization of the police force, the hospitality industry, systemic racism, children, and climbing (duh) are just some of the issues that were covered.
When the pizza tray found itself clear of all debris, James surprised us by refusing to let us pay for any of the meal. He said something like: “Listen guys, I really respect what you two are doing. Also, you’re living off some powdered bull shit, so don’t worry- I got this.” Not only did James pay for our meal but he continued his generosity by offering a place to stay (and shower!!!) if we pass through Portsmouth, NH. After thanking James for everything multiple times, he dropped us off in front of our immobile home.
The remainder of the week involved Mike getting Boosa all fixed up (turns out he needed a new starter), Austin and I getting our asses kicked by some New Hampshire moutain biking, and an abundance of climbing with new friends!