Getting After Some Pheasant

So Dave Ford and I headed up to Frankenstein with Kevin Mahoney these last two days to get tuned up for what promises to be very exciting ice season. We have a trip planned out to the Canadian Rockies with Jimmy and Dunbar in March, so we're trying to get ready for it. We got kind of wrecked by an embarrassingly small number of pitches, so I guess we're not quite ready yet. Yesterday we headed up the Bragg-Pheasant (NEI 5), a rarely formed route at the north end of the cliff. (See pic1, which is not of us, but other climbers recently.) It was in really great shape and it was an awesome time. Today we did Welcome to the Machine and Dropline (pic2, both NEI 5, but Dropline is harder). Dropline was as fat as I've ever seen it, but it was still ridiculously pumpy. I was just barely keeping it together on its relentlessly steep, weirdly candled crux column. So evidently I'm pretty out of shape and need a bit (i.e., a lot) of practice. (Side ad: I was also struggling with blunt picks that had been filed down past the first tooth (don't do this) and dull crampons. Anyone interested in a pair of worn Petzl Darts for $50, MRSP $200? If the club is interested, it has first dibs.) Dave climbed as well as I've ever seen him. Afterwards, we were chatting with Kevin and he suggested that we go to the Flume and do, say, 5 sets of 4 laps on the grade 5 pillars in there. I guess now we have to go do that. Heh. Tomorrow we're off to Cannon to do some skiing. It snowed all day, so it should be in good shape! In fact, it was hovering around 30 all day, but I found myself doing the ice climbing jig constantly--windmilling my arms like a crazy man, stomping my feet to an invisible tune, and other general fidgeting, all to stay warm. So have a nice Christmas and see you in the Daks!

Whitney-Gilman in the Winter

Dave and a gaggle of HMC hangers-on went up to Mt. Washington this past weekend, thereby beating me to the start of the ice season. Not to be outdone, I headed out of bed very early this morning to go climb the Whitney-Gilman Ridge with Kevin Mahoney. Now, it may not look much like winter here in Boston, but it's full on winter in the Notch. It was snowing all day and I could barely see the road from up on the climb until around 3 pm. It was cold, too...around 15 F all day. So winter's here!

The hike up to the cliff was pretty tricky today. I've seen it worse, but this was no joke. There was enough snow to make everything slippery and hide the boulders from view, but not enough to actually provide any support. I'd put my foot down on a promising patch of snow, sink into a hole between boulders, and have to get up again. I cursed a lot. I guess that's the early season for you.

We made our way up there by 9. The Ridge is a fairly moderate summer outing at 5.7. In the winter, however, it's a different story. It was totally covered in rime today and the climbing was desperate. I had done this route with Kevin two years ago, and since then, I've become a lot stronger and more experienced, so I thought I would see what it was like. I even foolishly thought I would want to lead it this season. But unfortunately, I'm still nowhere near good enough to do it yet.

There was enough snow to necessitate the use of crampons, which is bad news, because the climb is filled with downward sloping surfaces, none of which are useful for feet. The snow also covered all the holds, so I'd be locked off on a tool, alternately brushing snow off or raking wildly for tiny rounded edges above me. I found myself holstering a tool and holding pinches and slopers for all I was worth with one hand, and torquing with a tool in my other. There'd be super steep bits like the pipe pitch where I'd be doing fully 5.10 moves, and then once again I'd grovel belly first onto a 45 degree slab with no handholds or feet. In the summer, you'd whistle and smear up in your rock shoes without a second thought, but good luck doing that on rime! It was very Scottish.

I fell about half a dozen times and was honestly scared for the whole thing. I don't know what it was exactly. I've done a fair bit of hard winter climbing, even on the lead, and normally I'm pretty well put together mentally for them. It didn't help that there was a bunch of rope drag in places, so I didn't really have a very tight belay. At one point I did ten feet of what I thought were desperate drytool moves on a steep section, only to slide off the slab at the top of it, and right back to where I started! I don't like falling in crampons. This isn't Kevin's fault though...he did a great job, and I shouldn't need the rope to babysit me! (Actually, before I did that part, Kevin told me "oh, hey, this part's kinda hard...but just pull up and if you reach up way back, there's a blind open hook somewhere...yeah, heh, good luck." That certainly bolstered my confidence(!). But seriously, Kevin's a great guide, he's just much, much better than I am at this sort of thing.)

Just before I started the last pitch I looked up at it and thought: "Shit. That looks ridiculous. I'm not sure if I can follow that, let alone lead it!" But it was either drytool for all I was worth for 60 m, or suffer the undignified consequences. I was forced to take a deep breath, dig deep, and make it happen. So the climb kicked my ass, I'm covered in scrapes and bruises, and I may have had to cheat by drytooling on pitons, but I made it up there. Usually, I don't care about getting to the top, but this time, it was worth it.

The Dike and Fafnir look very thin at the moment. Kevin says they're "in but tricky," which for the rest of us means "not in." I think I'll wait till January for those...

A Good Season

Every year, well before the actual end of the rock season, I erroneously think that it's going to be way too cold to keep climbing, and I claim to throw in the towel, only to bring it back out when an "unexpected" bit of nice weather shows up. Well, this year I'm being slightly smarter and making the more restrictive statement that it's mostly over, and more importantly, it was awesome. It started out with a trip or two to Rumney. I don't remember much, except that I did Niki's Crack first try. It's weird, because, by technical grade, it was by far the hardest thing I led all season, but by sheer subjective difficulty, the easiest. But I knew I was sick of sport climbing. So I picked up trad instead.

I hadn't really done trad in any serious way before this season. Oh, sure, I had plugged in some gear, followed some routes, and even led a thing or two before, I always viewed it as a sort of mysterious adventure where I really didn't want to fall, never really knew where I was going, and felt I would turn into a pumpkin if I got caught out after dark. Most of that is still true. But what changed for me, oddly enough, is that I learned how to aid climb. Mark "Scrappy" Synnott showed me how to do it last year, and he made me bounce test every single piece. Vigorously. If I gave the piece what I felt was a violent tug, he would shake his head sadly, give my bounce test a 2 out of 5, and probably make some remark about my grandmother being able to do better than that. So I learned a lot about gear placements and when to trust them. In fact, when we went out to Yosemite in June, I was leading on the South Face of Washington Column and really failed to test a piece (a blue Metolius) properly, and it pulled out and I took a whip!

I started with small steps. I thought maybe, just maybe, I'd get to do one 5.10 or something at the end of the season. In April, I went to the Gunks with Dave (pre-injury; I'm trying to forget that particular misadventure) and we did some "easy" climbing that was nonetheless hard enough. I was pretty slow, and I felt pretty pleased with myself when I did Son of Easy O, which was, I think, my first real Gunks roof. Well, later, I went to Acadia with the Engberg crew and associated acts, and climbed a bit with Mike and Sarah. I remember being at the Precipice and one of their friends told us they had bailed off Fear of Flying (10a) 'cause it was scary and hard. So naturally I decided I had to climb up there and find out if it was actually scary and hard. Well, they were right. I plugged in a nice green C3, went for a move, and took a huge whip. I climbed back up there, whipped again, and finally got it. After that I felt good. I guess I found out why the route got that name!

I went to Yosemite for a few weeks, and learned about crack climbing. I learned about how awesome but scary it is to be up high on a wall. I found out that pro-climbers are grimy dirtbags who live in the Caf even if they're rich (and most of them aren't). I learned to be a grimy dirtbag myself. We ducked the bears (and lineups) to seek the "alternative accommodations" in the talus fields behind Camp 4. When I came back, I practically moved to the Gunks. I started on Retribution and Bird Cage and moved from there. Sometimes I'd have a target in mind. But then, I'd wander up and down the carriage road, squinting ineffectually at the rock, and cursing the "guidebook" for having pictures which were only slightly higher resolution than say, an Etch-a-Sketch. Most of the time I'd just abandon all pretense of having any plans or notions of where I was, and just try to climb whatever looked good where I was. Sometimes this would mean climbing something bad. I nearly squashed Jaclyn with a microwave-sized block I pulled off of Beetle Brow Bulge. (I don't really like that part of the cliff anymore. Or the area around Limelight. Everyone says it's awesome there, but I think it's really run out.)

Sometime over the summer, I got to take a break from the Gunks and meet up with Dunbar, Karen, Gil, and Rikka at the New River Gorge. I did sport the whole time. I even onsighted an 11c. I don't know what got into me. That's certainly unusual...maybe the grades are soft there or something. I also floated on a log in the lake at Kaymoor. The log was slimy, but the water was refreshing. It was bloody hot.

Last weekend was particularly good (and much colder). I wasn't sure if I was feeling that good, but it turned out I was on my game. The days are short now, so we didn't actually do that many routes, but Jaclyn and I got on Grim Ace Face. Allegedly "9+," this is kind of a scary, run-out thing that's more like 5.8 R on the first pitch and 5.10a or b on the third. I was told a hold broke, and now it's harder, so hopefully this isn't just my usual after-climb grade inflation. And anyways, everyone knows the 5.9+'s at the Gunks are top-heavy and probably harder than a lot of the easier 10s! As my belayers will undoubtedly tell you, I like to chalk up a zillion times and work the moves of tricky sections up and down before I commit to them. Well, there was a huge roof that involved me doing a pullup, plugging in a piece blind, then coming down, doing another pullup to check the piece out, and repeating this process a few times until I was satisfied I wasn't going to crater if I fell. I finally psyched myself up for it, and I gunned it over the roof with a cool little heel hook. That was a fun onsight. I tried Doubleissima on Sunday, but I hung on it. Guess the fire went out for that one. But I watched Dave and Lauren shoot up High E, which was awesome.

Well I've rambled enough. I'm lying low (doing a lot of work, actually) for a while, and then hoping for an amazing ice/mixed season. Come climb with me in the Daks! I mean, sure, you can go vacation like the rest of the dessicated-looking gasbags in tropical climes, or you can do some awesome ice climbing and skiing in the Daks. Rock climbing in the winter? What? But that's just me.

Gunks Madness

Dave, Taylor, Jaclyn, and I went to the Gunks this weekend. It was...more exciting than usual (although I seem to say that with alarming frequency). On Saturday, I took Jaclyn up Son of Easy O (5.8) first. It's a really great 5.8, with thin crack moves up to a short jug haul through a horizontal roof. Jaclyn was psyched and grinned at me as she came up to the belays. We met up with Dave and Taylor after eating some grapes (the finest summer climbing food ever invented), and did our usual "let's wander down the Trapps, go up a random trail, and thumb through the guidebook" approach. I found something called Beatle Brow Bulge (5.10) to do. It was easy climbing until a horizontal roof, after which I couldn't see very well. I fiddled in three pieces at the roof, chalked an excessive amount to stall, and then punched it through the roof. I made it, and fiddled in a good yellow C3. I couldn't see the exact line, so I shook out on a medium sized hold for a while and thought about things. After a while, it was clear to me it was time to go or fall, so I decided that I had good gear and went for it. I hit a few crimps and then what seemed like a great jug. Too bad the jug was attached to a block, which was attached to...nothing. Suddenly, I was flying backwards as a microwave sized block rained down terror on my belayer, Jaclyn, who fortunately was paying attention and had the presence of mind to dodge it. I felt pretty frazzled after that. I think Dave was telling me about doing some run out 5.5 called Blueberry Ledges, but to be honest, he could have been speaking in Japanese, and I wouldn't have noticed. I reluctantly pulled the roof again, finished the climb, and bid good riddance to the climb.

I felt better about myself on Sunday. We went up an excellent three pitch link-up called Oscar and Charlie (5.7), which takes the best pitches of: Oscar's variation to Strictly From Nowhere's P1, Strictly From Nowhere's P2, and Charlie's P3. I felt psyched again, and I had heard from Neal that MF was "the standard for 5.9" in the Gunks, so I went and checked it out. I looked the climb over in an inspection which was, in retrospect, overly cursory. There were some holds, some cracks, a roof...nothing to it, right? I headed up to the roof, and clipped a sketchy looking vertical angle, and a better looking horizontal angle. Then I got a case of tunnel vision, and instead of going around the roof like a normal person, punched it upwards, which is MF Direct, a 5.10. A 5.10 PG/R, but I didn't know that at the time. All I knew is that my body was horizontal through this roof, and I was making some wild moves on some pins of unknown quality. I cranked through it, and kept climbing up. But I didn't see any gear. Hmm. Oh well, I'm committed now! After a while, I got to a one of those goddamn thin horizontal cracks with all the pebbles in it. It would have taken a #6 or #7 BD nut, but I had already used mine. All I could get in was a bad #4 nut between two tiny pebbles, and a fairly marginal #0 C3. I shook out. I fiddle with gear. I swore. My heart pounded most inconveniently, as I was looking at taking a pretty big whip if I fell here. After a while I managed to fiddle in an even more marginal #00 C3. I wasn't sure if these things were even going to take body weight, but I didn't know what was coming up next. So it was a choice between possibly taking a probably OK but scary 30 foot whip now, or a certainly dangerous 50 or 60 foot whip higher up. Fortunately, all the aid climbing paid off, and I hung there, somewhat stunned, for a while. After that, I recovered enough and climbed to the top pretty easily. I kind of wish I had on-sighted it, but I'm trying not to paint myself into a corner, either. So it was a good time. I think.

This was Taylor's first trad adventure, and I think she was psyched. She said something about trad being cool, but being a sport climber at heart, but that's what I said a while back myself. Of course, you need to have a somewhat defective personality where you only remember the fun parts of climbing (and not the scary run out parts) to like it, but I have faith in her. I think Dave, who hurt his ankle a while back in a very unfortunate aid-climbing related misadventure, got some of his lead head back, which is really good. And Jaclyn led her second trad climb, Three Pines (5.3). That was actually my first. I remember doing it with Kevin and Caroline years ago, and thinking it was the scariest thing ever. And now it's no big deal...something we raced up an hour before dark. Cool. I also ran into "The English Party" of climbers who are attending Nika and Nick's wedding on Friday. On the trail, I asked them whether they were good at croquet. "Are we good at *what*?" They seemed very confused. I mumbled something about lawns, hoops, and balls, and the finally got it, but I think they're convinced I'm some sort of American lunatic. Everything in America, they say, is much bigger: the cliffs, the food, the people...perhaps they think the lunatics are crazier too. However, I'm not as crazy as Nika, who is getting her even crazier brother Zeb to perform the ceremony. I am worried he might bring a banjo instead of a bible. I'd say the move to have Zeb do it is perhaps PG...probably OK but could be interesting! So stay tuned.

Course Website

Not too many blog entries of late, as I've been making a lot of slides:

http://isites.harvard.edu/icb/icb.do?keyword=k71674

New River Gorge

Dunbar, Karen, Gil, Rikka, and I made a snap decision to go to the New this weekend. Gil and Rikka, being quite dedicated, drove up from Texas to surprise Dunbar and Karen, who came up from Virginia. I, being less dedicated and far more prone to carsickness, flew. We spent a day at Sandstonia in Bubba City, which is like a sandstone rock gym of climbs. Dunbar and I onsighted an 11c, which was pretty cool, even though I suspect it may have been quite a soft grade. We also spent some time by the lake climbing and swimming. At Kaymoor yesterday, Gil led a sweet 5.9 trad line and Karen and Rikka both led a classic 5.9, Flight of the Gumby. There were fireworks, stories told around camp, and mysterious sandstone cliffs in tropical-feeling forests of rhododendron and hemlock. It was magical.

Cathedral 5.9

Gil is perfectly correct: Yosemite is a zoo, but has awesome climbing. I can't confirm or deny any illegal camping on my part,
but I did enjoy being referred to as a ninja (sort of). I think the Valley would be an awesome place for a summer trip. There
are some seriously good free and big wall climbs there that make the Northeast feel pretty small by comparison.

I went to Cathedral this weekend with Sarah. Saturday we did Diedre, which is rated at 5.9+, which is probably one of the cruel
little jokes the guidebook authors like to play on you. I had a tough time on it when I tried it before the Valley, but I did
pretty well on it this time. There's some seriously steep moves on it. I'd show you some pictures, but after we hemmed and
hawed a lot bringing a camera, and finally brought one on a later climb, we didn't end up taking any. Bleh, whatever. Then we
got on Pine Tree Eliminate. Sarah took her first whip on it, which I think she was fairly stoked about.

Today we went to check out Recompense. I've been trying to get on it for months, but there have always been people on it. Of
course, today was no exception. So we went to do The Book instead, which is another one of these 5.9+s. I think it's
legitimately a 10. But whatever. Sarah linked up Funhouse very handily and then I led The Book. I had fallen on it before,
but I managed to lead it properly this time, which was nice. I even protected my second properly in the interests of "safety"
(I know, pshaw). We finished off on the last pitch of the Prow. I thought there were good fingerlocks, but they didn't feel as
"dreamy" as Mountain Project promised me. Then we went to the Barber Wall, which we'd never been to. People kept giving us
vague descriptions of where it was, so we just decided to go and try to find the trail. Of course, what happened was we got off
route, and then ended up hiking down and up in a big circle. Eventually I ran into Kayte, who gave me a big hug, and then told
me the proper way to get there.

We wanted to do Nutcracker and Chicken Delight, but both were occupied, so we got on something called Layton's Ascent (5.9). I
told Sarah she should try to lead it, and then if there were tears, then I would finish it. She got up to an awkward little pod,
got some pretty decent gear, and fussed around with the moves for a while. Finally she decided to go for it, and seemed to be
doing pretty well and then pitched off. I think she had kind of a heart attack, but was psyched about it, too. There weren't
any tears (thank god). There was this other guy on Nomad Crack nearby, and he took a tremendous whip. One of his pieces pulled
and he came pretty close to a groundfall. But that's not how we play it in the HMC, right? We're all about good gear and solid
climbing. Ostensibly. So she tried it a few more times, and then gave up after quite a good effort. I was certainly
impressed. I got up to the same spot, and then hand jammed really hard. In fact, my hand hurt so much I hung on a piece so I
could look at it. There was blood on it. But then I put my hand right back where it was and kept climbing, since there didn't
seem to be any better options. Yeah, I'm pretty much a wuss. But we had a good time. Trad climbing seems to be really fun. I
can work really hard on a 5.9 or a 5.10, not tweak myself, and still feel good. I've come around to the opinion that the trad
doesn't feel hard because the grades are sandbagged or the gear is weird to place. I have a perfectly good sense of what grade
means what now, and I'm fine placing good gear, even from weird uncomfortable positions. I think the climbing is just
different, and I'll just have to get used to it. One of the things I'm getting used to is crack climbing without gloves. It
rips up your hands, but it feels so good. (I've already made the obvious analogy, so don't bother.)

What kind of rad shit are the rest of you up to?

Yosemite

[Editorial Note: I wrote this on June 16th, so it's a bit delayed.]

I thought I knew something about climbing. Going up is good, and going up fast is better. Going sideways is OK if it means going up later. Going down fast is bad, but slowly is OK. I thought I pretty much had it covered. Then I spent a week in Yosemite.

This place is ridiculously busy. Campsite, let alone lodgings, are booked months in advance. A gaggle of tour buses, tourists with oversized cameras around their necks, and climbing monkeys mill about the valley floor gawking up at enormous waterfalls and cliffs like El Cap. It's virtually impossible to walk around without running into a famous climber. I said hello to some random European guy in the cafeteria and it turned out to be Uli Steck. Later, I sat awkwardly at a table with Jimmy Chin and Alex Honnold, feeling more than a little inadequate. I mean, what do you say to people who have skiied Everest or solo 5.12d? Alex told me he soloed some new overhanging 5.12 tips crack several thousand feet above the deck.
The climbing grades are severely sandbagged, at least to a sport climbing gumby like me. Or perhaps I should say the grades everywhere else are soft, given that this is where they were invented. We've been doing a mixture of free climbing and aid climbing. The first day we went the first four pitches of The Nose. I led a bit and jugged a lot. I got *whupped*. I got the rope stuck while jugging. I got confused by strange pin scars. I whined while hauling the bag. I got the rope stuck again. It was like I had never climbed before.

To rap down, we used someone else's fixed lines, which means three 60 m ropes tied together, and passing knots on a single-strand rappel over huge exposure, which was technically demanding and a bit scary. After that, I limed back to the car and decided wall climbing was the dumbest thing ever. So we went to do some free climbing. We did a pretty cool three pitch 5.8 route at the base of El Cap called Little John. There was a 5.8 wide fist crack as a little companion top-rope to the climb, which I totally fell on. It needs crazy techniques like stacked hand jams that I had never done before. Then we went and did a stellar but oddly named five pitch 5.9 called "Central Pillar of Frenzy" which features every kind of Valley crack, including a wild hand crack which goes out a horizontal roof. 5.9. Yeah. Finally, we did a nine pitch 5.10d linkup of Serenity/Sons of Tomorrow, which was once again every kind of crack, with the finger crux being a lot like Airation Buttress. It was awesome. I've never climbed that high before.

Between climbs we've been bivying in the talus slopes (it costs >$200 a night to stay in the lodge, and it's booked solid for months and months). Bears roam through camp randomly, sniffing at bear boxes and campers. At night, I keep my headlamp off so we can stay as invisible as possible. I've been wearing the same set of dirty pants the whole time. We're totally dirtbags. This was confirmed recently because a rich looking wealthy couple came over to us in the cafeteria and gave us the dregs of their wine before sauntering off to their no doubt feathery light bed. Bastards.
After a few days I forgot that big walls were stupid and decided to go back up. I skipped steps 1-29 on Chris Mac's 30 steps to the Nose or whatever, so we chose to do the South Face of Washington Column, which is an easier C1 grade V wall with a bit of mandatory 5.8 free climbing. We fixed the first pitch and ferried up our load on the first day, and then yesterday we climbed up to the third pitch, where Dinner Ledge is, and fixed pitches four and five. My brand new Patagonia approach shoes got trashed. The sole's ripping off. WTF?

The winds were ferocious. They're not even real winds; they're themral updrafts from the valley. Nonetheless, I felt like I was in a wind tunnel. As I pulled the Kor Roof, I swung comically, spreadeagled from my aiders like a crazed man. Today we punched it to the top. I took a whip on lead. I placed a blue Metolius in a pin scar (and I'm not super used to the Master Cams), thought it was a bit weird, and gave it a few good bounces. It held, so I eased on to it. Then I popped off and flew off onto a gray camalot before I new what had happened. Fuck. I blew a C1 crack. Fuck. That was a 10 foot whip. Why am I up here again? Fuck. Oh yeah. Climbing is rad.

So after a lot of rappelling and a lot more cursing, we're down. I just ate some ice cream from the caf, which is probably the square version of smoking weed. Gil & Rikka & Assorted are coming tomorrow so I'll try to meet up with them. It's been a good trip, but I think I'll be relieved to be back on solid ground for a while.

Gunks!

I'm here at the Gunks on a climbing roadtrip. This past weekend, I was helping out with the AMC's New Seconds weekend. They offer a great class on how to follow trad all fall, and this is the weekend where the graduates of the class get to go on their first big multipitch adventure. I had some very good seconds, Kerry and Greta. I think your first three pitch outing is always a bit...overwhelming, not just because you're really high up and exposed for the first time, but also because it's physically exhausting in an unfamiliar way. All the hanging belays, rope management, gear cleaning, rappelling, etc. do take a toll, I suppose. A lot of people wanted to head back to Boston early (those quitters), so I found myself climbing with Sarah near the end of the day. She's very cool. It's pretty rare to find girls who are psyched about every kind of climbing: bouldering, sport, trad, aid, ice, etc., so I'm suitably impressed. Anyways, I got psyched to lead my first Gunks 5.10, so I managed to convince her to belay me on Retribution, a 5.10b at the start of the West Trapps. Like a lot of the 10s here, it has a roof crux. I went up to the roof, placed a nice 0.3 C4, and tried the move. I could see I was doing it wrong, so I downclimbed a bit and took on the cam to check out the move. After a minute, I tried it again, and found it wasn't nearly as bad as I was making it out to be. There was a bit of a higher crux later on, but it wasn't too bad either. I got a great belay, and it was a fun lead. I also worked "No Solution," which is a 12a toprope next to it. It's thin, technical face climbing that reminded me of Eyeless in Gaza. I think I worked out all the moves, but I don't think I'd ever lead it. It's 5.12a R/X. I'm not really into dying. I did see some drunk hippies in flipflops solo by the GT ledge carrying cans of beer, binoculars, and bird watching guides, though. It kind of scared me, although I could see they were good climbers. I also suspect they weren't actually bird watchers, because when I pointed out two possible peregrine falcons to them, and asked them to verify their classification, they seemed uninterested. Of course, if I were soloing in my flipflops, I would be relatively uninterested in the finer points of taxonomy, too. I'm here for another week with Bayard, and then hopefully Dunbar and Karen. I'm sure we're going to be getting up to all sorts of cool stuff, so I'll send another report soon!

Book of Solemnity

I did the Book (10a) with Danny today. It was hard. "5.10" is a different beast in the gym or at Rumney, and at Cathedral or the Gunks. I took some small whips on gear (a pin and a red C3). I pushed my mouth into a tree root, which was like getting punched in the face (ow). I dealt with a lot of horrible rope drag (argh!) and tricky routefinding (argh! argh!). I'm sure if you're a seasoned veteran you would probably laugh at me, but it's going to take some time for me to get up to a seasoned veteran's level of experience, I'm afraid. Some other bad shit went down earlier this weekend but I can't talk about it here. All I can say is climbing is dangerous. Like life.

Gunks

Dave and I met up with Dunbar and Karen, along with a host of other HMC lookalikes. Actually, I quite like these lookalikes, but I'm too tired to list them off now. It was my first time doing anything hard there, and certainly my first time leading any horizontal roofs in gear. Today we found ourselves rapping in the dark due to a "uh oh, this pitch is too hard" moment (not my fault!). I hate rapping in the dark or even climbing anytime near dark, but evidently others don't consider this much of a restriction. Nonetheless, I would declare the weekend a success. I'm going to miss Dunbar and Karen as they make their way to one of those strange states I've haven't visited. Karen is leading pretty well these days. She's come a long way. We were remarking today that we were impressed she's led ice now. And what can I say about Dunbar? He got a haircut, but still has the straggly beard. I told him that was precisely the sort of unkempt personal hygiene that would get him placed on a security watchlist. However, he assured me he would shave before taking up his new job, in a misguided attempt to convince people that he is, not, in fact a climbing dirtbag who lives in his car. As we were chilling out between climbs today, Dave and I chatted with some nearby climbers, and they asked if one of us was Dunbar because some crazy person had been querying the skies for Dunbar periodically from the bottom of the cliff at a considerable volume. I convinced them he was our spiritual leader, which I think they half believed. Climbing is no fun without a considerable amount of bullshit, as long as it doesn't involve tangled ropes.

Start of the Season

Despite its unusually early appearance, Dunbar and I welcomed Spring in a decidedly non-hippie way by going trad climbing at Cathedral today. We went up the first two pitches of the Prow, which was...humbling. The first pitch (10a) was fine, but then when I tried to lead the second pitch, I took a bunch of small whips, gave myself some rope burn, and generally dogged it. After a few more attempts by both of us to free it, Dunbar aided up, and I followed free. I managed to get the bouldery moves going left off the ledge linked up, which was nice, but then I was shut down by this "10a" slab above the "11c" section. I was relieved, however, when I talked to Coz and he told me that the 11c might be an 11d or 12a, and that the 10a was a bit of a joke, given that 10a slabs should usually have some holds on them. I think I'm missing something there. The rest of the climb looked wet, so we bailed. I'm not about to climb 5.11+ in wet conditions. Yet.

We went off to the North End to do some crack climbing, which I'm absolutely atrocious at. 5.9 crack climbing feels like 5.11 face climbing to me. Dunbar, though, is really good. He led a bunch of stuff handily that I dogged on top-rope. Damnit. I think we have a very different philosophies on climbing (and possibly life). He wants to climb easier things on alpine terrain (hard things too, I guess). I want to climb harder things next to the road. He'll live in a cabin for months. I get fussy if I don't get to take a shower. He wants to climb easier trad things onsight, and I want to project sport things. Actually, I'm upgrading to projecting trad things, too, which apparently is objectionable, particularly if it's not a single pitch. "Pff. What's the point in projecting a five pitch route?" Well, touche. One could replace "a five pitch route" with "Ph.D. thesis," eh? Lucky for me, I'm adding those three precious letters to my name soon. After all, that is why I came to school here. It's all about wearing pretentious red hats and meaningless abbreviations on business cards. Well, there's a lot of jibber-jabbering about chemistry, a lot less actual chemistry, and a decent amount of climbing.

[Caution: I've probably grossly misrepresented Dunbar. Too bad he's not here to defend his good name. Yes, indeed. He's quite the ghoul, or so I can claim here. Mwahaha.]

More Training

It's been quiet lately because I've been writing my thesis and training for an upcoming June trip to Yosemite. I've learned a ton of stuff at my desk lately. It's reassuring that my brain still works after being marooned at the bench for five years. Occasionally, I've managed to escape and do a little climbing. Last weekend, I went to Rumney. It wasn't too exciting, but I did get on Nicky's Crack (5.11d) at the Hinterlands. I tried it a couple of times on top-rope and to my surprise, redpointed it on my first try. I think I'm definitely getting a lot stronger. I've been hitting up Metrorock two or three nights a week and I feel some power endurance I've never felt before. I think if I don't get hurt, I'll be feeling really strong in a month. I've been training on the campus board too. I'm not exactly where I was before in terms of power. I used to be able to ladder every other rung. But now I can ladder every rung on the intermediate-sized board, which I never used to be able to do. So I seem to have better contact strength and endurance than I used to, but less power. But I think the power will come back too. I think I've learned that I have to dial things back a bit when I'm feeling good. The time to rest is when things are going really well. In that vein, I'm taking three days off at the moment, and plan for a week soon. I do want to go back to Rumney and try and send Flesh in the next month though. I feel like that's been nagging at me for a while. I have my eye on Hope for Movement, too. There's also the Prow at Cathedral, too. I suppose there's a lot on the agenda for this season...including adding a few letters to my name!

Cathedral Linkup!

Last week, Kevin Mahoney and I did a whole bunch of stuff at Cathedral. One of the things we did was a linkup of Just Laughing (trad M6) and The Unicorn (WI 5). We also swung leads on Repentance (WI 5). So I called up Dunbar this week and suggested we try to repeat the linkup ourselves. Now, it’s one thing to follow a guide up something hard and thrash around, and quite another to be on the sharp end yourself. Neither Dunbar nor I had led anything quite so hard, nor quite so long before, but we got psyched to try it.

I started up Just Laughing, a 30 m granite crack which goes up to a roof at around 9:30. It was scary, pumpy, and fun. I placed a ton of gear on it—a double set of cams! I ended up hanging on the gear a few times, but I eventually pulled it off. I wasn’t sure if that was going to happen. I really thought I could whip off at some spots. It’s funny, because Kevin told me last weekend that he thought the climbing was “really secure,” and today I felt my feet skate and torques spin. I suppose that’s the difference between a gumby like me, and expert like him. For me, the climb was about big moves between a few hooks, and a lot of torques (where you put your pick in and twist with constant opposing pressure). For Dunbar, it seemed to involve a lot of having one hand out and one tool out. I tried to tell him that fingers were for picking your nose, but I guess my advice didn’t take. I can’t complain too much though, because he did it cleanly! It was impressive.

Dunbar went up a short mixed pitch, and then led up The Unicorn, which was steep and pumpy. I’m glad I didn’t lead that pitch because I was pretty tired. In fact, after we walked off, it was about 2:30 pm, and I was about ready to call it a day. But we walked over the Repentance “just to check it out.” There was a party there just doing the first pitch, so we decided to re-rack and go for it. I led up to the first belay station and continued up the crux to link up the first and second pitches. The crux was scary as all hell! It had the snowy appearance and soft feel that ice gets when it gets baked. I was scared enough to get a stubby in the column (an iffy proposition, at least if the column breaks) and clip a screamer to a V-thread that somebody else had put in. But then I looked at the V-thread, and I saw there was a nice white horizontal fracture line under it! Not psyched, and pumped silly, I shook out, and tried to get my breathing and pounding heart under control. I punched it past the crux, and sighed heavily in relief when I got a nice #2 camalot in.

The rest of the climb was way harder than last week’s lead. There were super good hooks last week that felt secure. This week, it felt like I was hooking on saucers, because the hooks had expanded from the warm temperatures in the valley this week. I felt myself panting and smelled the sharpness of burned rock (from tools and crampons on rock). Scared, but committed, I fought really hard and made it to the belay. I don’t think I’ve dug that deep before on a climb. I brought Dunbar up and he cruised past me to the third pitch. He sent the chockstone! The top of the climb is a wide chimney with an infamous chockstone in it. I managed to do the chockstone, too, surprisingly enough. I had been having trouble making the wide stem (I’m only 5’7”, gimme a break!) so this was the first time I actually did it properly.

Anyways, it was around 6:15 pm when we topped out, and night had fallen. We hiked down the road under a gleaming half moon and sparkling starlight. As we passed the slabs at the North End, the ice caught the moonlight just right, and there was a marvelous glow. We were both totally wiped, but we had made it! That was probably one of the most incredible days of climbing I’ve ever had. We were both at our limits, and we both needed each other to pull it off. That’s a good feeling. It’s been a damn good winter.

More Outdoorness

On Saturday night, Kevin Mahoney asked me where I wanted to go on Sunday. Vacillating spinelessly, I nixed Lake Willoughby because it's apparently kind of baked right now. I decided we should go back to Cathedral, suggesting we do some "single pitch mixed climbing," because that sounded like an easier day. Ha! In the morning, we started up Diagonal, a summer 5.6 rock route or "WI 5" in the winter. That rating is a filthy liar and is not to believed under any circumstances. Neither, in fact, should any of the other ratings at Cathedral Ledge. But I digress. We climbed with crampons on hands up to the ice, which was pretty baked, so we traversed back down and went up Standard Route ("5.7"). It was really hard! I had one tool and a hand out for a whole bunch of it. There are several roofs inside chimneys where the sides are either broken up rock or verglas. If you're leading it, you're supposed to chimney up to the roof, clip a sling (which is around a frozen in rock or something--I thought it was scary because it didn't look all that secure), and then shoot out onto some thin ice or turf. At the end, there was a bit of steep ice. It was quite the adventure. I am definitely not up to leading something like that. But Jimmy and I may try the Just Laughing/Unicorn deal next weekend. Am I up to leading M6 trad? We'll see. Now I'm at Sunday River. I did a double black diamond run today, my first! It went quite well, and it was actually on natural snow, which was new for me too. However, I got on some moguls early in the morning, and that went really badly. I don't know how to turn quickly enough to do them yet. I'm practicing doing some small fast turns with little hops, so that may help. I tried their night skiing today, but it wasn't very well lit and there weren't very many trails open because of grooming, so I just did a couple of runs and took off. It's been a great weekend!

Repentance, Take 2

Kevin Mahoney and I went out to Cathedral today. We rolled up at the extra early time of 8 AM (early if you consider that I had to drive up from Cambridge) but there were already three parties on or queued up for Repentance and another on Remission! We checked our Deidre, which was formed weirdly, but there wasn't much ice on the hand crack higher up, so we bailed after doing the first pitch and trying the second. Then we did Just Laughing, which is probably about M6 (too burly for me to lead right now, but I didn't fall following it) to The Last Unicorn (4? 5?). We thought about doing some ice-toproping, but I've had enough ice-toproping to last a lifetime (at least, for this season). We headed back to Repentance, and magically, everyone was gone! I linked up the first and second pitch. Everything was hooked out, which was nice. Things were going well...I chugged up past the first belay, hooked up the crux (a swiss cheese of ice screw and pick holes), and found a nice little V-thread someone had put in. I even got to stick some screws into old screw holes! Heh. I got higher up and then I realized there was trouble brewing...I was out of draws! I guess Kevin only normally carries 8, but that's a bit thin for a full 60 m pitch. I did all sorts of bullshit like clip things with the carabiners on cams. I even wanted to take the neutrino off my bullet pack and use that, but I was wearing the pack, and that would have been tricky. Because I couldn't extend any of the higher pieces, there was atrocious rope drag, but I grunted through it. I had to run it out (by my standards, not Kevin's) a bit to cut down on any further drag, but I punched it to the belay. Then Kevin led up to the top and I followed. I actually made some progress on this chockstone thing. I feel it's very mean to short people like me. Maybe Hannah can stem like crazy, but I can't. I bridged the wide chimney at full extension, with my toes pointed, and even with my gloved hand in a fist to get a little extra reach and I just barely made it. Higher up, the rock rippled a bit, and I couldn't quite make it happen. There's basically one or two moves in that extremely wide area that I need to work out. After that it's a hook, some turf shots, and a high step to the finish. I swear that it's waaay harder for short people like me. But then again, it might be easier in the chimney section for me. So who knows? I'm just psyched I got to lead one of the classic hard routes in New England...and it wasn't even a sketchfest! I heard Steve House soloed Repentance and Remission and found the chockstone the hardest part. In fact, I heard he nearly decked on it. Holy shit. Kevin said he threw away his glove in an effort to jam, but then found that his hand was too small! I'd be crapping my pants if that happened. Yikes! Oh well, I'm still impressed...

Repentance, Take 1

Dave, Jimmy, and I woke up at a fairly unwholesome hour to go try Repentance at Cathedral Ledge, a classic grade 5 ice climb. Unfortunately, when we got there, a Russian party of two was on it already! There was already a party starting up Remission, so we sat down and waited. We figured that if we gave them an hour, they'd be safely up the crux, and it would be OK to start. I was wrong. I was leading up the first pitch, and the second above me sent down a barrage of ice, which clunked me repeatedly on the head. I was definitely not very excited about this. The ice was brittle, but hooked out, so I was tapping in my hooks carefully. But of course, those placements aren't as secure as when you're actually swinging. I know I can climb grade 5 ice without falling under normal conditions, but no bets on whether I can do it if I get hit in the face with a big chunk of ice. I brought Dave and Jimmy up to the ledge and noticed that Jimmy had forgotten the rock rack. I lowered him on a redirected ATC and brought him back up. Then we waited for another hour. The team above us was crawling up. It was getting into the afternoon, so we decided to bail and do Goofer's. After some shenanigans, we got up and down that. Argh! This might have been the only chance I get this season! But maybe not. Maybe I can convince Jimmy to try it again. But if we do, we're driving before dawn to get on it. I can't understand these people. They show up from New York, have no clue what they're on, and just start up. You'd think they'd be super good or something to do that, but no! They look like they went to an ice climbing store, swept off a shelf into a loot bag, and made off like bandits! The leader had leashes and umbilicals! Talk about shooting yourself in the foot! Anyways, that's probably enough ranting and raving.

I took a cute girl out to dinner and a movie last night. She had a slightly wild and crazy look in her eyes. I think that's good, unless that means she's going to write plays where an ostensibly completely unrelated, but eponymous crazy woman chops me up into bits. That would be bad. She's good at skiing and doesn't mind roughing it in the outdoors, which is cool. We'll see where it goes...

Tonight is the Mt. Washington Ice Fest. I'm going go watch the drytooling competition.

Power Play

This week, we've been on the infamous annual HMC trip to the Adirondacks. On Tuesday, Bayard took me up Power Play, a classic grade 5 route at Chapel Pond. It was in pretty thin condition, but when I followed it, I took the opportunity to examine the gear and anchor placements. I talked to Dunbar about it, and he said it was too thin to do at the moment. But after taking a day off to learn how to downhill ski at Whiteface on Wednesday, I convinced Dunbar and Lauren to come check it out with me on Thursday. I admit I was pretty nervous Wednesday night. In these conditions, mistakes would have at least R-rated consequences. But still, I felt pretty solid when I followed it, and more the point, really psyched. Here's the route:


Although it has a direct variation (hard), the recent spate of warm weather hit it pretty hard and it probably isn't very well-bonded or safe to lead. We rambled up a series of ramps. There were small bits of ice on them that could be hooked, but I wouldn't call it secure by any means. Still, I tried to test every placement and climb very carefully. This was important, because I didn't get a good piece of gear until I got about 50 or 60 feet off the ground (#2 camalot). I got a sketchy tipped out stubby before that and a bad green C3 after that, but once I was on one of the higher ramps, I got decent yellow and blue screws every fifteen or twenty feet, which made me feel a lot better. Near the end of the first pitch, I basically ran out of rope, and Dunbar and Lauren had to simul-climb up first few moves (easy) to let me clip a cedar tree for an anchor.

Dunbar following the first pitch.

Dunbar led the short second pitch exit to the end, a steep curtain. I'm glad he led it, because I was feeling pretty tired. It's short, but no joke--an impressive lead. Lauren, amazingly enough, followed this with one old BD viper and something called a "humminbird," which looks like a hammer with a pick added as an afterthought. Still, it was marvelous:

Lauren styling it on the second pitch.

Well, after some double-rope management shenanigans and avoiding a huge rock on the way down, we made it. I'm pretty psyched. This is probably my hardest lead (of any sort) thus far.

Pictures From Cathedral

Bayard took some awesome photos. These are from Repentance, I think:

Another Few Days in New Hampshire

A few of us went up to the Flume yesterday. I've seen it colder there, but with little sun, it's definitely a chilly spot. Dunbar got beaned with a chunk of ice on his eyebrow and forehead. It looked like it hurt. He got a few stitches in Plymouth but didn't seem to need a priest. I think we all had a good time overall. I got to coach Karen a bit and that got me psyched. It's nice when you shout some advice and it actually helps someone instead of just annoying or confusing them. Dave Ford seemed to be having a good time. For only his second day on vertical ice, I thought he was doing rather well. (By comparison, my second day on the ice was atrocious. Let's not say any more!)

Bayard and I went to do Repentance at Cathedral Ledge today. Here is a picture below. I like the dark aspect of this picture. I think it captures it well.



Now, the guidebook gives this an ice grade of 5+ (accurate), a commitment grade of IV (also accurate), and an old-school mixed grade of 5.8 or so (can't remember exactly, but it's bullshit). I mean, OK, maybe it's 5.8 or 5.9 if you're an elite climber or a guide, but for us mere mortals, it's pretty hard. I think of 5.8 as something a gumby does on his or her first day at the gym or on top-rope. This was way harder.

This morning, I told somebody at the Frontside Grind coffee shop that I was going ice climbing on Cathedral Ledge and he explained to me that "ice is for gin and tonics." But I went anyways. The climb starts with about 80 feet of this "5.8" drytooling to get onto the ice (in the picture above, you can see the ice doesn't start right off the ground). When Bayard and I tried it last year, the ice didn't really touch down very far, so there was a big runout to get to the ice. This year, the ice started (thinly) after the good drytooling, so we were off to the races. Some pumpy, technical, and generally awesome climbing on good ice got us to a nasty sloping hanging belay for the second pitch. The second pitch was super hard, and probably the crux. A thin, horribly candled, and wet column (visible at a vertical white streak in the picture above) led to an awkward squeeze chimney. The column was really scary and I was only following it! There were very few good places to swing/tap, as almost every surface was convex. But I'm starting to get the sense, from climbing all these scary little pillars, that they're not impossible. If I get maybe twice as much endurance, then I'll be able to work for my tool placements, and actually do these things on lead. As it is, I'm desperately shaking out on every hold, which really pumps me out overall because it takes me a lot longer to climb the whole route. I can't swing too well when I'm pumped, either. The chimney was actually the crux of the route. Crazy sideways chimney moves and little taps/hooks on a thin, transparent smear of ice in the back of the chimney take you inside the climb to a roof. You get a hook in a crack just above the roof, swing out, and it's over. More or less. The third pitch was a wider chimney which was technical, but not quite as hard. Overall, it was a stellar route. I got pumped out of my gourd. My manubrium hurt in a weird way when I chimneyed. I got soaked on the second pitch. It was a good day.

Tuesday: We went to do Repentance today. It was thin and tricky conditions. The column off the first belay was way thinner than when I did it last year. In fact, it didn't even touch down--it was a dangler. The ice was brittle and fractured a lot. I'm sure it's not very nice on lead when you swing into the ice and white marks appear everywhere. Still, I climbed it like I was leading: solid sticks everywhere, every placement tested, every hook set, good footwork, etc. I kept looking around for gear. There are definitely some heady runouts involved, at least for a weenie like me. I had the whole route dialed except for the top where there's this massive chockstone. I kept switching positions for twenty minutes, trying to send it, but eventually I just took on the rope. Bayard kept telling me to stem onto the right somehow, but I couldn't really figure out how to do it. After a while, I just sort of powered my way through it in a sketchy way, but I wouldn't feel too good about doing that on lead. I think if I did eventually get up there, I'd consider just aiding through it. There's a great #3 cam, and then a fixed alien, and then another #1 placement above that. So that's all possible.

I'm totally worked now. Time for a nap.