Since then, I have been to Cleburn about 10 times. There is usually never more than a couple of people there at one time. I usually recognize the people from different climbing areas I’ve been to or the gym. I’ve run into Karen and Russell Rand, and many other bad ass climbers over the years. I always feel like a poser since I can only dream of climbing 95% of the routes. I usually flail at two or three climbs and then I’m so exhausted that I can’t climb anymore. I’ve never left Cleburn without feeling that I’ve just had my ass thoroughly kicked. It normally takes about a year for the memory of the last ass-kicking to wear off before I am willing to give it another try. I really think that one day I am going to show up at Cleburn and realize that I am worthy.
It had been a couple of years since I had made my last appearance at Cleburn. I had my current climbing partners with me, Steven, Katie, John, and Leana, who was going back to Finland in a week or so. Things had changed a little bit since the last time. Jeff Jackson had included Cleburn in his new version of Texas Limestone so we knew what the routes were rated. The General no longer owned the land so it wasn’t as scary as all the times before. I walked down the length of the cliff and stopped at the Mariner wall. I paid my homage to Jack and his master work. I thought about the time I walked up to Mainstay, tied in, put my finger into the nicely chiseled one finger pocket, leaned back and realized that it was impossible. I stood under the Mariner and imagined Karen pink-pointing it as I had many times before. I let myself think about Jack, and the tragic way that he left this world and I thanked him for developing Cleburn and for being such a great person. Then I went back to my friends and started climbing ...
CLEBURN: A Tribute to Jack Mileski
 assholes | the blessed event | contact toprope | hallucinations | interviews links | lettrés | sojurns | what's hot |
A few months ago, Steve McReynolds, John Hogge and I were sitting in the Flying Saucer having a beer, when Steven says, "Hey did you know that guy, Jack Mileski?" I said, "Yeah, he’s an awesome climber. He moved to Colorado about a year ago." Steven says, "He was killed by his girlfriend a few days ago. He was supposed to meet Mack Hargrave and Phil Hontz in Mexico." It was like the world just stopped. I was in shock. I couldn’t believe that he would die like that. I just sat there and cried while my climbing partners looked confused and embarrassed. They didn’t know that Jack was my idol. He came to this barren wasteland called Dallas and made the best of it. He developed Cleburn and helped to develop many other areas, like Belton, that Texas climbers are benefiting from today. He was a climbing God who treated all climbers like equals. It always amazed me how charismatic and motivating he was in person. He made you feel like you could climb anything. I made up my mind that night to go back to Cleburn as a tribute to Jack.