Kreibach not average retiree

Henry “Skip” Kreibach’s house sits on the edge of Highway 58, nestled next to two barns and an old grain silo. A driver in a passing car wouldn’t take a second glance at the home — it’s a panoramic scene typical of a Kansas postcard. But, a postcard wouldn’t give a hint as to what lies inside the Kreibach complex.
One of Skip’s barns is an art gallery of his personal work, along with his wood-working tools. The old grain silo, built in 1951, has a rock climbing wall built into the side of its interior. This is not your typical Kansas farm.
On a trip to see Skip, the motivation was to see his “silo climbing wall,” and give it a try. I would come to find that this place is much more than just a hidden climbing gym.
Skip met me outside of his house, walked up and shook my hand. His wife, Nancy, met me in the kitchen and introduced herself. Seated at the dining room table, Skip had pulled out an Iola Register article from July 23, 1997, and showed me that we had already written a piece about his unique climbing wall. Nevertheless, as a climber myself, I was determined to revisit the issue with Skip, as well as share his torment of climbers living in a flat land.
Skip and Nancy have been living in their home for 17 years, since 1995. It seems that the Kreibachs tend to have an effect on their environment.
When their son, Steve, went to the University of Kansas for his undergraduate degree, he became a member of the rock climbing club and fell in love with the sport. Skip and Nancy lived in Olathe at the time, and during some visits to the college, Skip became hooked on rock climbing as well. He retired from the Marines in 1990, so he had been accustomed to an active lifestyle. For fun, he mainly enjoyed backpacking and hiking.
Skip and Nancy became more and more involved in the sport, they even joined the Kansas City climbing club. He climbed Mount Elbrus, a Russian peak noted as the highest in Europe at 18,510 feet elevation, with the club in 1997. That same year, Skip was offered a job teaching computer science at Allen Community College.
“I wanted to find a job near a place with mountains, we’ve (he and Nancy) always loved the mountains,” Skip said. “But I heard from Allen that I had gotten the job, and I thought — where the heck is Iola?”
The opportunity seemed too good to pass up, however, and Skip accepted the job offer. From there he was determined to make the best of his situation. He began teaching one-hour P.E. courses to ACC students on rock climbing and mountain climbing.
“I wanted to share my interest,” Skip said.
As a requirement for the course, the students were asked to “climb something,” so he took them to Fall River, where they climbed cliffs near the railroad. Also, Skip spent some of his time making instructional videos on knot-tying and other climbing techniques. When his son suggested that Skip install a climbing wall in the gym for teaching his students, he jumped at the opportunity saying, “why not?”

ALLISON TINN, my co-worker at the Iola Register, agreed to accompany me the next day to take photos of the wall.
The 40-foot tall grain silo is inconspicuous, as silos go. The concrete walls and rebar jut out of the field, rising above the wood red barn located to the north. We climbed through a small window on the south side, and wedged our way into the silo.
The climbing wall was made out of manufactured plastic hand- and foot-holds, and he had also chiseled natural holds into the concrete of the silo. The numerous holds were scattered across one side of the wall, and led to a chain anchor that Skip had installed at the top — he said the installation of the anchor was precarious, he had to traverse around the top of the silo to install the chains.
Both Allison and I tried our hand at climbing. The day before Skip seemed adamant about not getting on the wall himself, but the unseasonably warm weather on Saturday had seemed to bolster his morale a bit. He put on his climbing shoes and pulled his way up the wall like a professional, putting Allison and me both in our place.
The 68-year-old man untied himself from the rope when he got back down from the ground, with an obvious excitement in his eyes.
“I haven’t done that in seven or eight years,” Skip said. “It’s really exhilarating.”
“I’ve spent more time sending college students and grandkids to the top of the wall than I have myself,” Skip had told me earlier in the day.
We spent an hour climbing and taking photos, and even more time talking about how cold the concrete had made our hands feel — Skip barely said a word.

SKIP had also mentioned that he was an “amateur” art enthusiast, so as we slid our way out of the silo window we suggested that we should take a look at some of his work.
After viewing his painting and sketches, both Allison and I decided that he had used the term “amateur” very loosely — his art was anything but that of a novice.
The workshop was littered with still-art, graphite pencil sketches, and different country scenes, not to mention photographs of Gannett Peak, a 13,800-foot peak in Wyoming that Skip had climbed with his son — which he said was one of their more memorable climbs. Skip said he had been taking art classes at ACC since he and his wife retired seven years ago.
It seemed apparent that Skip is a man of many talents, but also a man that is filling the free time of his retirement with almost everything life has to offer.
When Allison and I prepared to leave, Skip told us that he is planning to bicycle across Kansas with his daughter, Michelle, in June of 2013. He said he has made the trip multiple times, but is looking forward to doing it again.
He said he had “blown out” his knees by running in his younger days, so he picked up cycling and has been pedaling for years now. A door had closed, and Skip inevitably found another one open. If anything, the obstacles in life tend to direct Skip’s path, they definitely don’t slow him down.
“I mean, having fun is what it’s all about,” Skip said. “That’s what you’re supposed to do when you retire.”