Tuesday, July 6, 2010
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.
Monday, June 28, 2010
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?
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.
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.
Monday, May 17, 2010
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!
Monday, April 26, 2010
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.
Monday, April 12, 2010
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.
Friday, April 2, 2010
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.]
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.]
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