Finding Inspiration at Poke-O Moonshine

(Photo: That's me on C-Tips (5.10c).)

I've been searching all year for my next big thing.

In 2015, my goal was simple. I wanted to attack every 5.10 climb in the Gunks that I'd ever been afraid to try. The choices were obvious, and they fell like dominoes over the course of the year. For me it was a dream season, including many ultra-classics, and I tacked on my first trad 5.11's to boot.

This year it hasn't been quite as easy to figure out "the way." There are still plenty of legendary targets left for me in the Gunks, of course, in the 5.10-5.11 range and beyond. I've continued to go after them, and I have managed a few 5.11 ticks so far this year. I knocked off Carbs and Caffeine (5.11a) back in March, and in June I got the send on a tricky face climb called Cars That Eat People (5.11a) out at Lost City.

But I don't want 2016 to be the year in which all I did was to climb the easiest 5.11's in the Gunks (as awesome as that is). I want to improve, to become a climber with broader range. And to do that I know I need to get out of the Trapps and the Nears and climb at other crags.

To that end, I've been trying to get around. I've climbed more at Lost City (it really is different!) and committed to doing more sport climbing. And recently I've made a concerted effort to climb in the Adirondacks.

One day in June I was to meet up with my longtime partner Adrian, who has been living in Montreal. He's made the long trip from Canada to the Gunks to meet me on many occasions, and once in a while I try to return the favor by heading north from Brooklyn to meet him on turf which is closer to him. The issue for me is that I can seldom take two days in a row, so for me to go the Dacks, even on a weekend, involves an "alpine start" very early in the morning and then a long drive home at night. If I get up early enough I can get in a reasonably full day of climbing, along with the nine or ten hours of driving.

When I was planning to meet with Adrian in June, the summer heat provided enough motivation for me to make the long drive. It is always at least a little bit cooler up in the Dacks. So Adrian and I planned to meet at Poke-O Moonshine, the big cliff which sits just off of the Northway at exit 33.

We'd both been there on several occasions, both separately and together, and we'd done a lot of the easier classics, like the FM (5.7+), Gamesmanship (5.8+), Bloody Mary (5.9+) and Fastest Gun (5.10a). I've enjoyed all of the climbing I've done at Poke-O. The routes tend to follow vertical crack systems but seldom involve pure crack climbing. The terrain is often steep, but slightly less than vertical, with technical, slabby moves and seemingly blank sections requiring commitment and creativity. The difficulties tend to be continuous and sustained. Especially on the multi-pitch routes, the climbs have an adventurous feel, with route-finding challenges and loose sections requiring a heads-up mentality.

Fastest Gun in particular really opened my eyes as to what the harder climbing at Poke-O is like. And I loved it. I also found it very challenging and I wanted to get better at it. I always felt sandbagged at Poke-O-- everything seemed hard. I thought that if I could learn the ways of the granite at Poke-O, I would feel more confident on my toes at other granite areas like Cathedral Ledges, Cannon Cliff, or Yosemite. 

On our hot day in June, I hoped to find other multi-pitch tens like Fastest Gun on which Adrian and I could struggle and find some adventure. We settled on Mayflower, a three pitch route that looked doable. The first pitch-- the hardest one, at 5.10c-- is entirely bolt-protected and we found it to be in the shade. How bad could it be? The second and third pitches were both 5.10 as well, but a little bit easier. I figured we'd be fine.

We got our butts kicked.

(Photo: Adrian confronting the blank, clean streak that is the first pitch of Mayflower (5.10c).)

Adrian tried leading pitch one and found the climbing extremely thin and tenuous, up a lonely clean streak on this dark, dirty wall. He worked his way up to the third or fourth bolt, but after several falls, he decided to take a break and offered me the lead, pronouncing this thing way harder than 5.10.

Upon taking over I sketched my way up to his high point with the security of the rope above me, and then proceeded to fall repeatedly where Adrian had given in. Finally I worked out a sequence and was able to lead up to the top of the pitch. This pitch is hard!

(Photo: I'm coming up pitch two (5.10a) of Mayflower.)

Our first pitch had taken a long time, and we still had two to go. Adrian resumed leading on the 5.10a pitch two and he got it cleanly. Following the pitch, I enjoyed the interesting face moves on clean rock. 

Now it was my turn to lead pitch three, which features an airy, hanging dihedral. This pitch, rated 5.10b, isn't the hardest one on the climb but the guidebook suggests it is the money pitch.

I was nervous and struggled in the early going, moving up and right off of the belay towards the open book looming above. After taking a hang I figured out how to get into the dihedral, and once I clipped a bolt on the left wall I breathed a sigh of relief.

(Photo: Heading up pitch three (5.10b) of Mayflower.)

But my stress was actually just beginning. I found as I moved above the bolt that the (dusty) rock at the back of the open book was crumbly. I managed to place a nut but I didn't have a lot of faith that it would hold if I tested it. As I continued to make the delicate moves up the open book, with plenty of air beneath my feet, the lone bolt started to feel very far away. By the time I got to the top I was well into do-not-fall territory.

I was psyched to reach the anchor. I was exhausted, but happy. This was a quality route in which (typical for Poke-O) the interesting challenges just kept on coming, one after another.

(Photo: Adrian emerging from the rope-eating Mayflower dihedral at the top of pitch three.)

I thought we'd finished with Mayflower but it wasn't finished with us. We rapped off of the route with my double ropes tied together. When we got down we found that the ropes were hopelessly stuck. Luckily we reached the ground in a single rap, so we weren't trapped on the wall.

We tried every which way to free the ropes but nothing worked. The struggle went on and on. At some point I looked at my watch and realized we'd spent our whole day on this one route. I had four or five hours of driving ahead of me and here we were, still dicking around with my ropes stuck on the cliff.

Adrian had a spare rope back in his car. We could go get it, and climb back up to free the ropes. Or we could ascend the stuck ropes with prussiks. Neither option seemed terribly appealing to me.

Eventually we left the ropes behind. I'm not proud of this decision. We didn't clean up our own mess. At the time, I was tired and I couldn't bring myself to make the effort to get the ropes down. I was willing to write them off. The ropes were in pretty good condition but they were at least nine years old. I was considering retiring them anyway. And Adrian thought he might be able to come back and get them the following weekend, though he didn't end up making it.

After a week or two a climber from Montreal retrieved the ropes and returned them to us. So the story has a happy ending. I got my ropes back and the good samaritan got some beer out of the bargain. But the ropes were hanging there for a while and they got quite bleached in the sun. They are definitely retired now!

Our misadventure on Mayflower made me hungry for more climbing at Poke-O. I felt like we'd been spanked, and I knew we could do better. I resolved to go back, but the opportunity didn't come for me until after Labor Day. I made the trek up there on a Sunday in early September, and liked the climbing we did so much that I took a day off from work and made the drive again on the following Thursday.

During these two September days I tried to figure out how to better climb these Poke-O tens. I made some progress. As always, for me I think the biggest challenge is psychological. I've found out out that I can do every move on these climbs, but I need to feel secure in the knowledge that my toes will stick or I fail in lots of ways: I rush, I over-grip, I refuse to commit.

(Photo: That's me in the early going on Cooney-Norton face (5.10b).)

I got things off to an inauspicious start with the Cooney-Norton Face (5.10b). This route has great climbing all the way, with cool moves up a shallow stem box followed by thin face climbing past two bolts. I felt insecure on my feet as a leader on this pitch, pressing the stems way too hard and clutching madly at whatever holds I could find. I wore myself out and, after hanging, offered Adrian the lead. He then led up through my gear and finished it.

Trying the route again on top rope, I thought it wasn't exactly easy but it was all there and it went fine. On TR I could easily stand in the stems, releasing both hands. If I'd relaxed like this on lead I would have been okay, I think. As I moved up on TR I found out that I'd given up on the lead one move from a jug and a good rest, which was infuriating. I will go back and send this route. It shouldn't even be a big deal.

(Photo: Adrian on Macho (5.11a).)

Adrian and I threw a top rope over Macho (5.11a) and while neither of us sent this one, either, I felt like this was where I finally started to find my way on Poke-O face climbing. I loved the moves on this pitch, and by the time we were done I started thinking this was a Poke-O 5.11 I could come back and send on the lead, though I might like to figure out my placements on top rope first. The positions are balancy and above the initial bolts the gear might be a real challenge to place.

(Photo: I'm stemming it out at the crux of pitch one (5.10a) of the Snatch.)

On our second September day we tried another ten called the Snatch (5.10b). This route ascends a left-facing corner for two pitches. It gets four stars in the guidebook but I wasn't expecting much, since I couldn't recall ever hearing anything about it.

It turned out to be an awesome route. Both pitches are really good. I led pitch one (5.10a), which wanders up a blocky face to the main corner system, and then ascends the super-cool technical stem corner until a ledge with an anchor appears on the left. I was happy to get the send, for once, as I led up the challenging corner to the belay without incident. Things were looking up.

(Photo: Adrian at the crux of pitch two (5.10b) of the Snatch.)

Adrian (who, it should be noted, was allegedly fighting a cold) started up the 5.10b pitch two, and got into the weeds pretty fast as he confronted the overhanging jam-crack crux on the right wall of the corner. After a couple of hangs he got through this section but then the difficulties continued with more thin moves up the corner. At one tough move Adrian decided he'd had enough and we did another hand-off of the lead. I lowered him back to the belay. Taking over, I too had to hang in the crux jam crack but then sent it the rest of the way. I felt okay about it. Like pitch one of Mayflower I thought this pitch was pretty darn tough for its grade.

(Photo: I'm doing some of the hardest bits on C-Tips (5.10c).)

We also took on C-Tips (5.10c), a bolt-protected line up a bulging, black face. From below it appears to be utterly blank. I took the lead again. I told myself to think of this as a 5.11 sport climb. No big deal. There are bolts!

But I was still a bit nervous after I clipped the second bolt. The third bolt seemed very far away, the slab beneath me was very close, and the next holds were so, so small. I was afraid I would hit the slab if I fell, so I called out "take" and took a hang.

Immediately I kicked myself for giving up. I resolved to go for it. And then everything went fine. This climb is full of beautiful sequences. After the hardest moves, around the third and fourth bolts, the angle of the wall kicks back a little and the climbing becomes a bit easier. I marvel at the vision of the first ascensionists, who saw a route here on this featureless face.

(Photo: Adrian leading Group Therapy (5.9).

Late in the afternoon of our weekday at Poke-O, Adrian and I decided to dial it back a little and do something more casual. We ended up picking out a link-up of the first pitch of Group Therapy (5.9) and the second pitch of Discord (5.8). It doesn't appear that these climbs get done all that often despite a recommendation in the guidebook and their convenient location right where the approach trail meets the cliff.

Neither of these pitches is fantastic but both are quite worthwhile. Adrian led Group Therapy, a route with some face moves over bulges which lead to a slab finish. The rock is good and all of the harder bits are well protected by bolts or solid gear placements. 

I took the lead for pitch two of Discord, and this pitch provided some full value Poke-O adventure. The crux came right away, after I stepped to the right from the belay and had to commit to pulling over a low roof and into a right-facing corner system.

(Photo: That's me fooling around past the initial roof on pitch two of Discord (5.8).)

Once I grunted my way past the (dirty, crumbling) overhang, I had to confront twenty feet of corner climbing with an off-width crack at the back. I'd just placed my largest cam beneath my feet, to protect the initial crux, and it looked like I'd have no gear big enough to place anything again until I reached the top of this corner. 

Luckily the climbing was pretty secure and easy. Cramming my foot and leg in the crack, I made sure there was no way I could fall out and inched my way up to the top of the corner, where I was relieved to find solid gear. Then a fun traverse under another roof and a final layback corner led to the belay.

(Photo: Adrian coming up the final bits of pitch two of Discord (5.8).)

Adrian got to the top of Discord and announced "that pitch was crazy!" I certainly thought it provided a bit of everything: route finding, questionable rock, fun moves, technical problems, spice....

In the end I think Group Therapy/Discord is a fun 5.9 linkup-- for the 5.10 leader.

The three days I've spent at Poke-O this year have been a challenge for me, and I've really enjoyed getting schooled on the routes at this big cliff. I've still only experienced a fraction of what the place has to offer and even as I sit here typing I'm racking my brain trying to figure out when I'll get another chance to go back.

By the end of the third day I started to feel like I was really getting the hang of the climbing there, which surely means I'm ready to have my butt kicked by another Poke-O multi-pitch route.

I can't wait.

Poke-O Moonshine Cliff: The FM (5.7+ R), Bloody Mary (5.9+) & More!

(Photo: Looking out on Poke-O Moonshine from the top of pitch two of Bloody Mary (5.9+). Photo by Adrian.)

A few weeks ago (as you'll surely recall!) I took a random tumble at the base of the Trapps in the Gunks, opening a gash in my knee and causing some worrisome swelling. The timing wasn't great, since I was planning to go to the Red River Gorge for four days in early October.

Because I had so little time to waste, I went to see a few doctors. After a tetanus booster and some antibiotics I'm happy to say the knee is pretty much back to normal. I lost about a week of my usual physical activities but I feel lucky it wasn't more serious.

This past weekend I got back to climbing outside. I made my second attempt of the season at climbing in the Adirondacks with Adrian. Our first effort of the year back in June was pretty much a washout, but this time we seemed well set for a good day. We had a cushion of several clear days in a row.

The plan was for Adrian and I to meet on Sunday at Poke-O Moonshine, the huge cliff close to the Northway at exit 33. I've been there twice before, but there is so much climbing to do at Poke-O I feel like I've barely scratched the surface of what the place has to offer.

Poke-O is just an hour and a half away from Adrian's current digs in Montreal. By contrast, it is five hours away from my home in Brooklyn. No one without a family would ever think of making the trip up there for just a single day. For people without children it wouldn't be worth it, but since I can rarely get away for a whole weekend I am occasionally willing to do a lot of driving for just one day's climbing.

Luckily, my wife and I have friends who own a place near Lake George and they offered their house to me for the night on Saturday. This made it possible for me to drive up Saturday night, crash, and then meet Adrian at the Poke-O at 8 a.m. on Sunday. It worked out well.

I had several ideas for us. I'd previously climbed some of the great Poke-O multi-pitch routes like Gamesmanship (5.8+) and Fastest Gun (5.10a). I wanted to do another full-length route up the 400 foot cliff-- something new. I was thinking about The FM (5.7+ R), a historical classic which was once very popular but which isn't as frequently done these days because it features some slightly scary traverses and run outs, as well as some sections with loose rock. I wasn't too worried about these challenges. I figured we'd be very comfortable with the climbing at that grade and that we'd be able to handle whatever else this climb threw at us.

Beyond that, I was thinking about leading Bloody Mary (5.9+), a testpiece which Adrian and I had attempted three years ago but which we had abandoned about halfway through.

And I thought I might like to try a 5.10. Poke-O has several single-pitch 5.10 face/crack climbs, many of which feature bolted cruxes. I thought I should be able to handle one of these climbs. I've always felt sandbagged and intimidated when I've climbed in the Dacks, but on my last trip to Poke-O, a year ago, I'd been able to on-sight lead the 5.10 pitch three of Fastest Gun. And lately I've been attacking Gunks 5.10's with gusto. It made sense that I should at least try one with Adrian during our day together.

Sunday dawned clear and warm and as I drove up to the cliff I could see the fall colors were out in abundance. Adrian and I met at the defunct campground and walked in to the cliff. We stopped at The FM and gave it the once-over. The first pitch goes up the back of a black alcove and then exits out the right side using a layback crack. The pitch looked a little dirty and uninspiring. But the rock above pitch one looked clean and dry so I figured pitches two and three, the highlights of the climb, were going to be in fine condition. Why not try it? We racked up and got started.

I led pitch one and it was better than it looked. The pitch wanders to the top of the alcove, moving from left to right up some obvious cracks with decent gear. It isn't a long pitch (60 feet) and before you know it you are at the fun, clean exit moves out of the alcove and onto a good belay ledge.

(Photo: Adrian finishing pitch one of The FM (5.7+).)

Adrian led pitch two, the crux 5.7+ pitch, featuring a traverse that moves left and slightly down across a thin face. At the crux leftward step (known as the "Lavallee move" for the man who unlocked the sequence on the route's first free ascent), there is great gear in a vertical crack just above. Thus the leader is essentially on top rope for the crux move. The follower faces a bit of a swing at the Lavallee move, because he or she has to clean the overhead pieces of pro before making the move. But the next gear is only a few feet to the left. The fall wouldn't be that terrible.

(Photo: Adrian just past the traversing on pitch two of The FM (5.7+).)

I very much enjoyed this pitch. It is a masterpiece of route finding, weaving its way left around corners and across the blank slab to easier climbing up a corner and around to a good belay ledge. It would be a slightly nerve-racking pitch for someone whose limit is 5.7, since the pitch traverses so much and the gear, while adequate, is spaced.

(Photo: That's me at the "Lavallee move" on pitch two of The FM (5.7+).)

Pitch three earns The FM its R rating. The runout 5.7 crux climbing comes right off the belay, up a right-facing corner and arête. But I didn't think it was so badly protected. After one or two moves I was able to reach up and blindly place a small nut behind a thin flake above the corner. It was hard to evaluate this gear until after I made the move up but it did seem pretty solid when I examined it afterwards. The climbing is good and then the rightward moves up a ramp to the belay beneath a large v-notch present a few more committing steps around corners, with much better gear.

(Photo: I'm just past the poorly protected starting crux on pitch three of The FM (5.7+).)

The belay station atop pitch three is kind of a mess, with one good bolt, an ancient ring piton, and a horn slung with old crusty slings, all equalized with a cordelette. I added a nut next to the piton, shoring up one of the three legs of the anchor, figuring that with my nut and the bolt we were in good shape.

(Photo: Adrian coming up the ramp on pitch three of The FM (5.7+).)

But while you can improve the anchor, you can't do anything about the loose rock laying all around this station. As Adrian led off on pitch four, he found plenty more junky rock until he got about halfway up the v-notch. It is pretty easy to avoid all the looseness but you do have to be careful. After you dance through the loose crap, the pitch improves greatly, with some nice moves up the notch and then a bizarre feature that guidebook authors Lawyer and Haas call a "gong flake." This huge flake-- really an entire wall-- rings hollow when you pound it. Climbing the edge of this hollow feature is fun and it seems solidly attached. One hopes so anyway. Then an interesting final corner takes you to a grassy ledge with a rappel tree.

(Photo: Adrian just about through the junky rock on pitch four of The FM (5.7+).)

I thought The FM was a fun route, with adventurous situations and some fine, unique climbing. But it isn't for the new 5.7 climber, that's for sure. Both the leader and the follower should be solid in 5.7. Whichever person leads pitch one will be in for the worst of the run outs, following pitch two and leading pitch three.

I highly recommend using double ropes (as we did) because then you can rappel just twice: from the top of pitch four to the top of pitch two, and then to the ground. The belay stations atop pitches two and four are in good shape but as of this writing the station atop pitch one has good bolts but a faded, crusty cord holding it all together, and the pitch three station is an all-around disaster.

Once we got down Adrian asked me if I was ready for my big lead of Bloody Mary.

I wasn't sure about it. Intellectually I knew I could do the route but in my heart I had doubts. I remembered our first attempt at this route three years ago. I'd led the throwaway thirty-foot 5.6 first pitch and then Adrian had aborted his lead of pitch two after taking a lead fall and finding himself unsure of where to go. Following him I'd found the first half of pitch two to be unrelenting and just plain hard. A burly layback through an overhang led to tenuous, steep stemming up two opposing flakes. I felt like I could pop out of the stemming at any time and I did take one fall before reaching the point where Adrian had bailed off to the left. I remembered the pitch as exhausting, and we didn't even finish it!

This time around I was planning to combine the first two pitches into one 150-foot pitch to the bolted anchor. I resolved to take it slow and make smart choices, and to milk rests whenever I could.

(Photo: That's me in the crux on Bloody Mary (5.9+).)

After I got through the traditional first pitch and looked up at the start of the crux layback I wished I had two blue No. 3 Camalots. I needed one to protect the committing step up into the layback, but after that the crack remained the same size for a few more moves. I supposed I could ask Adrian to send me up another cam (using some rope shenanigans) but ultimately I decided I could work it out with what I had. I placed my one blue Camalot as high as I could and then stepped up into the overhang. Once I got a good foothold I found I was able to drag the blue cam up a bit and reposition it to protect the next moves, so it worked out fine. One blue cam was sufficient. But if you have two you'll be in really great shape.

(Photo: Stemming it out on Bloody Mary (5.9+).)

I didn't know it yet but I'd already done the hardest part of the pitch. Looking up, I was intimidated by the stemming yet to come. I hemmed and hawed before getting on with this section. But once I actually committed it went perfectly. I remembered the stemming as so fragile and thin but this time around I found solid foot jams and holds. Decent footwork makes such a huge difference. There was never a moment where I felt I could fall. Before I knew it I was through it, stepping left onto the white face and approaching the final overhangs.

When it was all said and done I was thrilled. If you combine the first two pitches together, Bloody Mary is one hell of a single-pitch climb. There is so much great climbing on it, and the challenges are varied, ranging from laybacks to stemming to face climbing and finally to overhangs. It is one of my favorite pitches ever, anywhere. (Double ropes are again recommended, so you can get down in one rap from the bolted station atop pitch two.)

(Photo: Adrian just about done with Bloody Mary (5.9+).)

Adrian too found Bloody Mary less mysterious and challenging the second time around. It is rare that I find climbs that give me such a tangible feeling of improvement over time. It is a nice sensation.

Next we took a look at one of those bolted Poke-O tens. Just to the right of Bloody Mary is a route called Casual Observer. The overall grade is 5.11a but first pitch of this route is 5.10b and it is almost entirely bolt-protected, with some optional gear placements in a chimney near the top.

(Photo: Adrian contriving to rest on Casual Observer (P1 5.10b).)

Adrian decided to give it a whirl and it was somewhat tough going for him. He struggled at the crux thin move across the face about halfway up and then again at the roof move to escape the chimney.

(Photo: here I'm above the crux on Casual Observer (P1 5.10b).)

When it was my turn to follow I was happy to get it clean but boy, this thing was pretty tough. I felt sandbagged. I might have been a little freaked out leading this, even with the bolts. I had to hand it to Adrian that he'd led it calmly from the ground up. I thought it was technical and "in your face" from the word go, with thin moves up a shallow corner past the first several bolts. Then the crux traverse step was definitely another notch higher in difficulty, followed by a steep sequence to get into the chimney and still more hard moves to escape. It didn't really let up until I reached the anchor.

After Casual Observer I wasn't so keen on any more tens. We'd done seven guidebook pitches and I was ready to dial it back a bit.

So we ended the day with two fantastic pitches we'd done before (albeit three years prior). I led The Sting (5.8) and Adrian led the first pitch of Gamesmanship (5.8+).

These have to be two of the very best crack climbs in the East. I upped the ante a bit by leading the 5.9 direct start to The Sting. It sort of resembles the first moves of Maria Direct (5.9) but I think The Sting Direct is a little harder, even though it only takes one or two moves (depending on your height) to reach the jug. I'll admit I stepped up and down a few times until I figured out which hold was the jug I was aiming for, and then I went for it, crimping hard and then making the big lock-off and reach.

(Photo: Past the tough start on The Sting Direct (5.9).)

After the bouldery start I loved The Sting's moves leftward on a fingery rail, and then the rest of the way was just joyful climbing up the obvious hand crack, with plentiful opportunities for feet and hands outside the crack as well.

(Photo: Adrian heading up Gamesmanship (5.8+).)

Apart from the opening moves, pitch one of Gamesmanship is the harder climb of the two. It is steeper and longer and has a bit more required pure crack climbing on it. It is such an appealing line-- it is hard to imagine walking by it without wanting to climb it. (And bring your double ropes again for the long rappel.) Adrian, crack specialist that he is, ran up the pitch in no time, and following him I felt free and casual, another contrast to three years ago, when on this same pitch I felt challenged and crack-deficient.

(Photo: This is my patented "ignore the crack" technique on display on Gamesmanship (5.8+).)

Returning to Poke-O produced one of the most enjoyable days of the year for me as a climber. In a way it was a reunion of sorts for Adrian and me. We were together here three years before, both of us having our first experiences climbing in the Adirondacks, and now here we were again, both older and wiser, enjoying some of the same climbs as on our first go 'round, our partnership still strong.

We were lucky to have beautiful weather and stunning fall colors. And to enjoy great climbs carrying a host of different challenges. I left feeling like we'd accomplished a lot, yet we'd still just begun to explore all of the many facets of Poke-O Moonshine Cliff. I can't wait to come back.

Now if only I could find a way to avoid the five hour drive back to NYC....

Crack-A-Lackin' Adirondack-in' at Poke-O: Fastest Gun (5.10a)

Manny and I had a good day at the Spider's Web on our Friday in late September. That evening we were in Lake Placid, eating sushi and drinking sake. I felt tired. I'd driven five hours the night before after working all day. I arrived late, woke up early, and then climbed some hard routes.

I was tempted to put my head down right there at the dinner table.

But first we had to pick a climbing objective for the next day.

I knew just what I wanted to do. And I thought maybe it would be perfect for Manny too.

It was his first trip to the Adirondacks. In just a few days he'd seen many of the prime areas. He'd been to the Beer Walls, Pitchoff Chimney Cliff, and Hurricane Crag with Gail. He'd visited the Spider's Web with me.

But he hadn't yet been to Poke-O Moonshine. It is a major cliff with many many classic routes.

I'd been there once before but I needed to go back, for what seemed like a million reasons. I was most drawn to one climb in particular: Fastest Gun (5.10a).

I NEEDED to do Fastest Gun. I'd been dreaming of it all year. For many years, really.

I'd heard great things about the climb from Parker and others. It is a full-length route up Poke-O's main face, ascending over 500 feet in four pitches. Each pitch is reputed to be challenging, with all but the first one rated 5.10a in the Lawyer and Hass guidebook. The first pitch isn't 5.10, but it has something far scarier. It carries the dreaded 5.9+ rating, which so often portends doom.

I told Manny to take a look at the description for Fastest Gun in the guidebook. I hoped he would read about it and get psyched. Sure enough, as soon as he read the first sentence of the entry, which describes Fastest Gun as "perhaps the most sought-after climb at Poke-O, a real prize," he became excited. "Let's do that!" He said. "We should definitely do that one."

We were in business. Now we actually had to climb it.

I volunteered to lead pitches one and three. I thought it was the nice thing to do, since I had read that pitches two and four were the best ones. It also made sense that I do the 5.9+ pitch since it seemed like Manny was a stronger climber than me. If I did the (theoretically) easier first pitch then I'd only have to lead one 5.10 pitch while Manny would lead two.

Still, while it seemed (based on the ratings alone) that I was picking the easier pitches, I had concerns. I was a little apprehensive of the off-width crack that runs up the middle of pitch one. I had no experience with off-widths. But I didn't worry too much about it since I'd seen pictures of people laybacking and stemming past the off-width. (There is one such picture in the guidebook.) So I figured I could handle it. I had bigger doubts about pitch three, which was reputed to have difficult face moves up to a bolt, with only tiny nut placements nearby for pro. I thought this pitch might be pushing it for a beginner 5.10 leader like me. Sketchy face moves above tiny gear sounded scary, but on the other hand I'm pretty good with fiddly small gear. If there were good nut placements to be found I was pretty sure I could locate them.

I knew very little about pitches two and four. It seemed from the descriptions that they involved crack climbing and roofs. Would these be more my style, or less? It was hard to tell.

Was I really ready to tackle a 5.10 lead in the Adirondacks? The last time I'd climbed at Poke-O, the 5.8's had seemed hard. But that was two years ago. In the time since then I'd grown a lot. I figured Manny was solid and if I needed to bail he could take over the lead on pitch three. I just needed to take care not to get committed in a dangerous situation.

After a good night's sleep we awoke to blue skies and crisp temperatures. It was supposed to warm up but it was only in the high thirties as we packed up our stuff at the house in Lake Placid where we were staying. We took our time, getting a leisurely start and stopping in Keene for breakfast before eventually driving over to Poke-O. By the time we reached the cliff it had warmed up so much that I changed into short sleeves as we left the car.

There were several other vehicles parked at the now-defunct Poke-O campground. I feared we'd end up waiting in line to climb Fastest Gun. But this was the low-key Adirondacks, not the overcrowded Gunks. As we walked past Gamesmanship (5.8), the most popular climb at the cliff, I was shocked to find it empty. Fastest Gun was open too. It turned out we were the only party on it all day. And this was on a gorgeous Saturday in peak season!

Gotta love the 'Dacks.

Anyway, this was it. We hadn't exactly gotten out early and we needed to get on with it. The first pitch was my lead, Adirondack 5.9++ with no warm-up. It looked tough, with committing moves up a crack right off the ground and then the off-width. Up above the off-width I could see the steep layback flake which I guessed was supposed to be the crux of the pitch. I looked at the off-width and decided to bring a No. 4 Camalot with me. Maybe I could push it up the wide crack for a few moves and then place a normal-sized piece in the layback flake above.

I had no clue how I was going to get up the off-width. It appeared to me that laying back off of it would feel very insecure, as I didn't see much in the way of footholds. I could instead go into the off-width and climb the crack directly but frankly I had no earthly idea how to do that. It was longer than I'd expected, maybe a couple of body lengths.

Not wanting to chicken out, I headed upward. I got up to the off-width in no time, and found I could place the No. 4 at the bottom of the wide crack. But it wouldn't fit any higher; the crack quickly got too wide. I started trying to figure out what I was going to do. I couldn't make myself commit to laying back off the edge; it seemed very insecure. I started testing the off-width crack, trying to scrunch my side into it. I didn't like that either. I kept trying both ways, back and forth, and not liking either option. Finally I stopped and took a hang.

I was flailing on Fastest Gun already, and we'd just left the ground. I had Manny toss me the No. 5 Camalot and steeled myself to actually try to climb this stupid thing.

Committing to the off-width, I got my right foot and arm wedged in and moved up a few feet. It actually felt fine once I did it. Progress was being made. Then I reached up and placed the No. 5 high in the crack, and now with the cam over my head and a top rope protecting me I scrunched up some more. I found out I could repeat this process. When I got to the top of the off-width, basically level with my big cam, I took another hang, just because I was scared. I'd never done this kind of climbing before.

As I rested there I realized that climbing the off-width had actually been pretty easy. It is a good size for camming one foot across and there are actually some incut holds inside the crack. Once I actually got into the crack there was no way I was going to fall out. If I ever go back I might do it this way again, although committing to the layback would likely work out fine too. If you climb it as a layback you probably don't need the big cams because you can reach a vertical crack off to the right that can take small/medium cams.

In retrospect it all seems like no big deal but at the time I was totally out of sorts. I felt fried. I started moving again. I found the layback flake above the off-width difficult to get into and took another hang before finally doing the real crux and getting up to the easy finishing blocky flakes.

Pitch one of Fastest Gun was not one of my prouder climbing moments. At least I was totally safe about it. You can get pro pretty much everywhere on this pitch. It is a very good pitch, steep and strenuous at the crux. At the time it seemed ludicrous to me that it is rated 5.9+ but looking back I think my problems were all mental. I never fell off of it. I was just extremely tentative because it was so unfamiliar. I feel now like if I went back it would be no problem. Maybe I'm dreaming.

(Photo: Manny in the (loose) finishing blocks on the 5.9+ pitch one of Fastest Gun.)

As I waited for Manny to follow me up pitch one I wondered if I really belonged on this climb. Manny certainly did. He easily followed the pitch, with no apparent difficulties.

I decided to see how I felt following Manny up pitch two. If pitch two went well I would still plan to lead pitch three.

The second pitch is steep. It follows a pair of vertical cracks upward until these cracks become the sides of a shallow chimney. Manny kept calling this chimney "the coffin," which I thought was a poor choice of words, karma-wise. The coffin/chimney, whatever you might like to call it, is capped by a ceiling.

(Photo: Manny in the early stages of the 5.10a pitch two.)

Manny did well, moving deliberately and placing lots of gear. He seemed to think the climbing was difficult but he sent the pitch on-sight.

I followed it cleanly and really enjoyed it. It is sustained. Steep crack and face moves take you to the chimney. It is hard right from the start, but it is all there. It seemed to me the crux moves come when you reach the twin cracks. It is strenuous and committing until the walls of the chimney become deep enough to allow for some chimney technique. Once you can throw a shoulder into the chimney it gets a bit easier and you can rest. I thought the final moves over the little roof were exciting but reasonable.

(Photo: Manny in the middle of pitch two.)

What an awesome pitch, with great move after great move after great move. Although I couldn't point to any one move that seemed harder than 5.10a, I was still surprised that this pitch isn't considered harder than that. (In the old guidebook Don Mellor calls it 5.9!!) Like pitch one, it seems easier to me in hindsight. There is no one move that is especially hard. It is the cumulative, continuous nature of the difficulty that makes the pitch feel like a sandbag.

(Photo: Following Manny up the final bits of pitch two.)

When I joined Manny at the belay, the moment of truth had arrived. I'd felt fine following pitch two. I knew that pitch three started with easy climbing up to a pedestal. Then there was an optional belay before the committing move into a right-facing corner described in the guidebook. I could certainly go up to that point and then bail if I felt weird about going forward. So without any discussion I took the gear and headed upward.

The moves up to the pedestal went fine. I could test some holds in the committing corner before getting out there, but I wouldn't really know what I was dealing with until I made the move. It seemed like I was heading into less-than-vertical territory with thin moves and small holds. I couldn't see the crux moves up to and past a bolt above. I spent some time fiddling in some small gear. Eventually I was satisfied that what I had was totally bomber. Then I committed to the corner. After one smeary move I found a jug. I had passed the first test, and I could now see the bolt above, not so far away. This built a little confidence.

On the Internet some people complain about the pro leading up to the bolt at the crux. I was determined to place the best gear I could. I got a good small nut, and then another. I moved up again and placed a third micronut, probably six feet below the bolt. I felt that all of these placements would hold but they were small pieces in a little vertical seam. And now I had to make the hard move to the bolt. It appeared to be a balance move, stepping up on small toe holds while making use of a shallow vertical rail for the hands.

I made the step carefully and it went fine. Better than fine, actually. It felt 5.8 to me; it was no problem. I clipped the bolt and knew I was one hard move away from a total sendage moment.

I didn't want to blow it now. I felt very safe with the bolt clipped but I wanted the on-sight, badly. I tried to diagnose the move. There were slippery, small handholds. I could place the right toe on a good indentation, then smear with the left...

I tried it and it worked. In just another step I had better holds. I had cleared the difficulties. All I had to do now was make it through 5.6 territory to the belay ledge. The guidebook suggests that there is scant pro to be found here but I looked carefully through the rest of the pitch and found plenty of placements. I did not feel it was terribly run out.

It was my first 5.10 lead in the Adirondacks. I felt great. I really enjoyed this pitch, and it was so different from the ones that came before it. Thin face climbing used to scare me to death but now I think it may have become one of my strengths. People complain about this pitch and find it frightening but to me it was the easiest of the four.

(Photo: Manny following the easier final bits of the 5.10a pitch three.)

Manny once again cruised up to join me. He was having no trouble so far.

Having finished my leads now I could just relax and watch Manny handle pitch four. It looked amazing and ridiculous, and again totally different from what came before. The pitch involves steep moves up a hanging, blank corner, then a traverse left under a huge roof. It is quite intimidating. This is the only pitch of the four that was rated 5.10 in the old Mellor guidebook.

(Photo: Protecting the start of the 5.10a++ pitch four.)

The very first move requires stepping up the steep slab to an undercling, with burly moves up around left into the hanging corner. It appears there are no footholds to help you get established. Manny struggled here, for the first time all day. He stepped up and slid down a few times, then decided to just get on with it and aid through the first steps.

Once he was established in the main corner he made it up just fine, but it still appeared tenuous and strenuous. About halfway to the big roof the angle eased and Manny seemed to really relax and enjoy the final bits to the top of the cliff.

I really wanted to cap off the day by following this pitch cleanly. I started a little further right than Manny and found out I could get established in the undercling better over there. This required some awkward stepping left to get around the low ceiling and into the main corner, but it was helpful to use the better feet to the right to get onto the wall before moving up.

I felt solid in the main corner. There weren't many indentations in the smooth wall for the left foot, but I found I could almost always wedge my right toe in the crack, so I never really felt that I was about to slip off. I thought the difficulty would be much increased by having to place gear, but still I felt pretty good about how this section went for me. Once the angle eased the moves remained thin but the pitch became much more relaxed and the traversing territory around the upper roof was no big deal, at least for me. Gunks experience can sometimes pay off like that. Traversing around roofs is just another day at the office for me.

This was definitely the hardest pitch of the four, but the difficulty is concentrated in the early going and the final moves to the top are a joy-- or they were for us, since the pitch was bone dry. Lawyer and Haas warn in the guidebook that the upper portion of this pitch is often wet.

(Photo: Heading down.)

Once we reached the top we moved up to the climber's right. We could see a tree with fixed gear for rapping. I was carrying a topo for this part of the cliff which showed a rappel route here. This worked out for us, more or less. I won't bore you with the details of the near-disaster I caused when passing one of the fixed rap stations, thinking our double ropes tied together would reach the next rappel station. The lesson: NEVER pass a rappel station!

Next time I would use the central rappel route, since some of the stations indicated on the topo for our rappel route apparently no longer exist.

I loved Fastest Gun. It is challenging throughout, and so varied. The rock is very good, except for the occasional loose crap you'll find all over Poke-O. The route was a milestone experience for me. I have wanted to do this climb for a very very long time, and it totally lived up to my high expectations. It also revealed areas where I've made great progress (slabby moves and thin face, working with small gear) and areas where I need much improvement (wide vertical cracks). Speed is another issue. We were lucky no one was behind us because we were definitely slow guns, taking most of the day to do four pitches.

After doing this route I want desperately to return to Poke-O. If pitches two and three of Fastest Gun are good indicators of what the face climbing at Poke-O is all about, then I think this climbing suits me very well. I'll have to find out for sure some time next year.

Adirondack Crack Attack, Day One: Poke-O Moonshine Cliff

Back to the 'Dacks.

Rogers Rock in July whetted my appetite for more climbing in the huge Adirondack park. Adrian too was eager to get out there. We thought about doing an ultra-long one day strike on the region in August, but the prospect of so much driving to and from NYC in one day ultimately turned off the both of us. Instead we resolved to find a weekend in the autumn in which we could get in two days of climbing up there.

Somehow when I mentioned the plan to my wife her head did not explode. I told her that I might try to disappear for two days of climbing and she calmly responded that early September would probably be my best chance to go, given her busy work schedule later in the fall.

And so we found ourselves on a climbing road trip. As we left the city I almost couldn't believe this was happening. At times it had seemed events would conspire to derail our plans, but in the end neither tropical storm damage nor my cat's visit to the animal emergency room (she swallowed a sewing needle) got in the way. This was too easy. I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop; there's no way I get to be this lucky. I'm going to pay for this trip at a later date, of that I am certain!

As the magical weekend approached I became more and more excited at the various possibilities. I sent annotated PDF's of various sections of the Lawyer/Haas guidebook to Adrian. I considered Poke-O Moonshine Cliff, the Spider's Web, Upper Washbowl, Pitchoff Chimney Cliff, Chapel Pond Slab, the King Wall... the options were seemingly endless.

Ultimately we decided to hit Poke-O on day one and Upper Washbowl on day two. I knew we'd get just a taste of Poke-O (an enormous cliff) in one day, but I wanted to experience more than one place. I figured we'd do a few long classics there and then maybe if we were speedy the next day we could do most of the good lines on the Upper Washbowl. I didn't realize until later that by choosing these two destinations we had set ourselves up for a tour of the routes of John Turner, a visionary climber who was active in the late fifties and early sixties and who is famous for his sandbagged moderate vertical crack climbs all over the Northeast.

When we arrived at Poke-O there were two other cars in the lot at the defunct state campground. As we should have expected, we found both of these groups of climbers at the base of our first route (and first Turner climb of the weekend). This was, of course, Gamesmanship (5.8+), the most popular climb at Poke-O. Fortunately, the first party was already moving fast up pitch one and the second party had decided to do the neighboring single-pitch climb The Sting (5.8) while they waited. So, technically, Gamesmanship was actually open, or at least we deemed it so. The leader of the second party seemed to think he had the right to reserve his spot in line for Gamesmanship while he was climbing a different route! Adrian and I both thought that was utter nonsense, but I wondered aloud to Adrian whether we'd create a scene if we went ahead of them and hopped on Gamesmanship. Adrian solved this by loudly announcing our intention to start climbing. No one dared try to stop us so we were in business. It turned out we were much faster than the party we leapfrogged, anyway, so it was all for the best. I have no regrets.

(Photo: Pitch one of Gamesmanship (5.8+). The pink rope heading left is on The Sting (5.8).)

Gamesmanship is a five-pitch climb that goes all the way to the top of the cliff, but many parties skip pitch five, which is an undistinguished, poorly-protected 5.2 slab. The big attractions of the climb are the sustained 5.8+ handcrack of pitch one and the twin vertical "ski track" cracks of the 5.7 pitch four. The guidebook describes pitches two and three as being of lesser quality.

Supposedly the crux of the route comes in the first ten feet, at a pod just off the ground. I knew as soon as I looked up, however, that for me the rest of the pitch would be harder than the pod because I don't have much experience climbing vertical cracks. I remembered what a crappy climber I became on Reppy's Crack (5.8) at Cannon last year. Immediately I chickened out and offered Adrian the lead. Crack specialist that he is, he flew right up, expressing joy at the quality of the jams.

As I expected, I didn't fly right up. The pod at the bottom was definitely a little tricky, but this was a type of climbing I could deal with; little edges and a couple long reaches get it done. What I mostly remember about the rest of the pitch is that I thought it was great, and that I felt insecure and challenged the whole way up. I made it through without any falls or hangs, but I repeatedly expressed thanks not to be on the lead, and I tried not to be depressed at how hard I found the climbing. This was the learning experience I needed, I told myself. I'd be a better crack climber for it.

(Photo: looking down the 5.8 pitch two of Gamesmanship.)

Pitch two was my lead, and I enjoyed it. While neither as sustained nor as aesthetically pleasing as pitch one, it is still a quality pitch, with a little bit of face climbing and a little bit of vertical crack. I thought it was easy for the grade. I'm not sure where the 5.8 crux is supposed to be.

(Photo: The throwaway pitch three of Gamesmanship. Adrian is almost to the ledge where he'll head right to a tree.)

Adrian dispatched the easy 5.4 pitch three in no time. The pitch exists only to get you through the broken dike rock and right to the base of the obvious cracks ascended by the 5.7+ pitch four. This fourth pitch was my lead, and it looked gorgeous from below. I found it fun to lead, but in my opinion the great cracks don't go on quite long enough. Soon you reach lower-angled rock where you have to climb past a couple dirty bushes up a corner to the belay.

(Photo: A butt shot of me leading the 5.7+ pitch four of Gamesmanship.)

Actually I realize in retrospect that this pitch was a lost opportunity. It follows a pair of cracks, the left one a perfect vertical handcrack, the right one more featured. I found it easy enough to climb it by mostly holding the right edge of the left handcrack and using features in the crack on the right. In other words, I didn't do much jamming. I should have forced myself to do more. It would have been good for me, and more secure besides.

After we rapped to the ground we found The Sting (5.8) open, and since it was Adrian's turn to lead he jumped right on it. The first few moves follow the crux of Gamesmanship through the pod, then a thin traverse left leads to another long vertical handcrack. This is another great pitch, certainly the equal of its neighbor to the right. It is also quite a bit easier. Or at least, I thought so. The pod and thin face climbing left are just the sort of climbing I like, so I didn't worry there. And the jamming is much less continuous than on Gamesmanship. I got to the top of this pitch wishing I'd led it.

After The Sting we wanted another multi-pitch climb so we took a look at Bloody Mary (5.9+). And once we looked at it we had to climb it. It is truly impressive, heading up an imposing, steep corner. The second pitch looked strenuous but, to me, it seemed not that bad. I liked the looks of the steep layback flake and the section above, which stemmed between two corners, seemed doable. It wasn't a jamcrack so I thought "why not?" Still, I was intimidated by the climb's reputation as a Turner testpiece, which stood as the hardest climb in the 'Dacks for more than a decade. Eventually I decided to be content with leading the 5.6 pitch one, which turned out to be a nothing pitch to get you to the base of the crux corner.

(Photo: Adrian about to attack pitch two of Bloody Mary (5.9+).)

As Adrian set off on pitch two I was kicking myself for not taking the lead. But then it started looking pretty hard as Adrian came around the first layback crack and then entered the stemming portion between the two cracks. As Adrian got to the part of the pitch where the left crack ends and the guidebook mysteriously suggests an "unlikely" move onto the face, he was suddenly airborne. Unsure if he was to step left or continue just a bit further upward, he'd chosen to head up and slipped out of the crack.

Adrian was unharmed in the fall but he wasn't sure how to continue. I read him the entry in the guidebook, which seemed to suggest going further up the face to the left, but it also mentioned an anchor on this left wall that neither of us could see. The topo seemed to indicate that the pitch went up right, not left, into the tiered overhang above, but the description said nothing about this.

(Photo: Pitch two of Bloody Mary (5.9+).)

Suddenly Adrian spotted a bolted anchor to the left and headed for it. By the time he got there I realized this was a mistake. The bolted anchor was for the neighboring line to the left. But Adrian was already there, so he put me on belay and up I went.

I found the climbing strenuous but not mysterious, at least at first. I made it up the layback crack through an overhang, thinking it resembled Roseland in the Gunks. Then the stemming began, and this was heady. I wasn't sure how I'd feel leading this. It was mostly opposition keeping me on; there were few real footholds on either side. As I approached the point where Adrian popped out I tried to suss out the next part of the pitch. I was sure now that we were supposed to have headed up into the weakness in the overhang. I thought I could now spot some fixed crappy anchor up in there on the left. I wondered if the climbing up the face to the overhang would be easier, or harder, than what I'd been doing?

(Photo: Throwing in a chicken wing in order to get a rest on Bloody Mary (5.9+).)

Then, unexpectedly, I popped out, just below the point where Adrian had popped out. Screw it, I thought, I'm not leading the rest of this. We'll come back some other time and do it right. I headed left to the bolts and we rapped off.

It wasn't time to end the day, and I felt I still hadn't challenged myself, so I decided to try a slightly harder lead. P.T. Pillar (5.8+) seemed like a nice choice. It is a single-pitch climb up a corner. The guidebook contends it is often unfairly overlooked. The "P.T." stands for Positive Thinking, which is a popular ice climb in the winter, just to the left.

The climb ascends the left side of the pillar, at a crack in the back, against the main wall of the cliff. I resolved to jam, jam, and jam to the top. But it didn't really work out. If I faced to the right it seemed impossibly overhanging. If I faced the smooth back wall there were few holds. The crack seemed too wide most of the time for jams. I ended up worrying my way up the route, making frequent layback moves with insecure feet. Strenuous roof climbing got me past a big death block wedged in the crack about one third of the the way up. Continuing, I jammed my feet in the vertical corner crack whenever I could, but it was very awkward. A little more than halfway up I stopped and took a hang on a cam. Then I fell trying to get back in the crack. Then I finally powered through the rest of the pitch.

(Photo: Adrian cruising up P.T. Pillar (5.8+), just below the wedged death block.)

I had Adrian lower me from the fixed anchor so I could belay him from the ground. He proceeded to cruise up the freaking thing. He turned to the right and put his back on the smooth wall, often pinning a bent left leg with dropped knee behind him.

He made it look so easy I wanted to kill him.

Near the top, where I had been pumped and feeling like shit on the lead, grunting through the last few moves, Adrian found a no-hands rest and chilled there a while, sorting gear. Grrrrr.

When Adrian came down he said "I climbed it like a chimney. When you have a smooth wall like that it's usually a good idea to put your back on it."

Okay, noted. Why didn't he tell me that before? I know I say I don't want beta, but any idiot can tell I don't really mean it...

I couldn't wait to get out of there and get a drink. After fighting with vertical cracks all day I was worn out.

I loved Poke-O. It's a big cliff with tons of great stuff we didn't even see. My day there mainly demonstrated to me that I have so much to learn. And that if I'm going to get the schooling I need I have to get out of the Gunks more often.

Coming soon! More Turner classics at Upper Washbowl Cliff: Hesitation (5.8) & Partition (5.9-), plus the Weissner Route (5.6).