Eighties Day in the Gunks: An Excellent Adventure

(Photo: Some stone age Romeo, sneaking up on Nosedive (5.10b) like a smooth criminal.)

Several months ago Gail and I hatched a most bodacious idea: we would go to the Gunks dressed as climbers from the 1980's.

Gail already had some electric blue tights, which sounded perfect. I would need to buy some tights of my own, but I didn't think it would be too hard for me to find some totally gnarly, loud leggings. Then I could throw on a tank top and a headband and we'd be all set! Hilarity would ensue.

It seemed like great fun, but we never did anything with the idea.

Until last week.We were set to meet up to climb on Saturday and on a whim I asked Gail if we should go for it and declare it to be Eighties Day in the Gunks.

With Halloween just around the corner it seemed like good timing.

And besides, the 80's are percolating up again. (Don't call it a comeback!) Current pop sensation Taylor Swift has a new album out entitled 1989 (though when I listen to the lead single I can't say I understand the 80's connection). And 80's superstars Morrissey and Billy Idol have recently published memoirs.

I figure if Billy Idol can show his face in public then so can a man in tights.

Gail was very enthusiastic about the plan so we decided to Just Do It.

I only had a few days in which to get ready. I bought some bitchin' striped tights and a tank top/headband combo that matched... or sort of matched, anyway. I was ready to go. But then I decided this wasn't enough. We needed to think bigger, to get greedy. Greed is good, they say.

If we were climbing in 80's clothing, shouldn't we also climb with 80's gear?

It didn't seem right to carry around a bunch of dyneema slings and modern cams. Thinking it over, I realized that practically every piece of climbing equipment I owned was in some way inappropriate to the 80's costume: the shoes, the carabiners, the slings, perhaps even the harness and chalk bag? Should Gail and I be using a bunch of hexes and tying in with swami belts if we were going to be true to the spirit of our little project?

It is a weird science, trying to approximate the technology of an earlier era, only to take it back to the future. And if we were really serious about authenticity it could get expensive. It could take plenty of money-- to do it right, child.

I did some internet research and found out what was in use in the 80's and what was not. As the maker of rules (dealing with fools), I declared certain guidelines for our day.

Harnesses and chalk bags, it turned out, were in use in the 80's. Sticky rubber was also okay. Nuts and Tricams were fine.

Dyneema slings and wire-gate carabiners were out. And all of the cams I usually carry were also out. Aliens and third generation Camalots were not around in the 80's.

What to do? We had to be careful. We didn't want our little lark to turn into a dead man's party. I'm only human, after all, born to make mistakes, and we all know that accidents will happen. I couldn't assume that I'd never fall, and I needed to have enough gear with which to protect whatever climbs I led.

My rack was saved by the Metolius catalog from 1988, which revealed that TCU's (then called "3-Cams") were introduced in the mid-80's. Hallelujah! I own a set of TCU's, from purple through red. If I could use them I had a pretty reasonable 80's rack, with my nuts, Tricams and TCU's. I just needed a few larger pieces. Gail was able to add a few rigid-stemmed Friends, an ancient U-stem Hugh Banner cam that appeared to match those available in the 80's, and a couple of other U-stem cams of uncertain vintage.

(Photo: One town's very like another when your head's down over your pieces, brother! Here were some of the larger pieces in my 80's rack.)

Gail's costume was spot-on. In her electric blue tights and pink top she looked like she'd stepped right out of a Jane Fonda workout tape. Of course no woman in tights could ever look quite as ridiculous as a man in tights. Gail did plan to trump me in one area: her tube socks. I was wearing tube socks too (for the hike in), but unlike me Gail planned to climb in hers! It was a very 80's thing to do but I couldn't imagine wearing thick socks inside of my climbing shoes.

(Photo: They're heeeeeeere! Gail and I are ready to rock in the Uberfall in our full 80's splendor.)

When we arrived at the cliff we headed straight for the Uberfall. This was a Saturday in high season, and we expected to find crowds. Ordinarily this would be a bad thing but today we needed an audience.

As we walked in I could feel the eyes of other climbers upon us. We didn't get any immediate comments but I could sense the occasional double-take.

We parked ourselves beneath Apoplexy (5.9), right on the carriage road, in the middle of the action. I got racked up with our 80's gear and looked up at the potential placements. It seemed like I had everything I needed. I was a little bit chilly in my tank top but I had my headband to keep me warm!

(Photo: Animals strike curious poses... I'm getting set to lead Apoplexy (5.9), 80's style.)

As I got ready to go we chatted a bit with the climber to our left, who was belaying his partner on Horseman (5.5). He spoke with us as if nothing was the slightest bit unusual, and for a while I wondered if he had even noticed our completely outrageous appearance. But then as I was about to step up onto the route he turned to me, completely deadpan, and said:

"You look fantastic, by the way."

"Thanks!" I said, and I was off.

The 80's rack proved to be perfectly adequate for Apoplexy. The nylon slings and the old oval biners were the only problem. The slings and biners felt fat; I was clumsy handling them.

(Photo: Totally tubular! Gail has her tube socks on display on Apoplexy (5.9).)

The climbing felt super casual. I might even go so far as to suggest it felt like poetry in motion... the elements in harmony. Maybe the tights deserve some credit. It is easy to be flexible in tights!

But it's more likely that my vegan diet is paying off. I've lost a dozen pounds since Labor Day. I feel light and fit. I'm still trying new recipes, attempting to keep it interesting and to eat real foods that also taste good. For now I think it is a healthy development. If I start to lapse into eating nothing but potato chips then it might be less healthy. But that is unlikely, as I am generally avoiding junk food. I don't want to buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought or processed. I just want to stay natural. And maybe I'm coming around to the view that meat is murder...

I'll probably go back, one of these days, at least to animal products, if not to meat.

I know what you're thinking: you don't drink, you don't smoke, what do you do? But I assure you I have the same desires as everyone else. I want tasty food. I want candy. For now I am satisfied with the vegan food I eat. I am making delicious things. I'm sure eventually I will get sick of it. My wife, Morgan Fairchild, is already quite sick of my veganism even though it has nothing to do with her! So I don't know how long it will last.

After we were done with Apoplexy I saw that Nosedive (5.10b) was open so we moved over there. I led this one with the 80's rack again and I felt much more comfortable with the gear the second time around. Again the climbing felt very straightforward. Hmmmmmm, could it be...... Satan? (Or perhaps seitan?) Maybe it was all due to the tights after all.

(Photo: Gail at the crux on Nosedive (5.10b).)

Then Gail led Retribution (5.10b), which I was psyched to witness. Gail has been working hard on getting out there and leading tougher trad climbs so it was great to see her going for it on a solid 5.10. Retribution has very good gear and a short crux (which I've seen Gail cruise more than once before), but the 5.10 move is a challenge no matter how many times you've done it so leading it is very impressive.

(Photo: The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire! Gail at the ceiling on Retribution (5.10b).)

Retribution felt really casual to me too-- I guess I'll have to keep wearing tights. I was cruising.

(Photo: I'll have what she's having! Gail is psyched to have led Retribution (5.10b).)

By now we'd been in the Uberfall area for a few hours and we'd attracted a certain amount of attention. Our outfits were a constant source of amusement. Some people just stared, some pointed and laughed, and I was later told one climber ran over and took some photos of me while I was leading Apoplexy. (If you're out there, Mr. Photographer, I am happy to receive copies.)

I was surprised by the conversations I had with some of the older climbers. I was previously unaware that there are men out there who are nostalgic for tights. But such men do exist. There was more than one climber who described with fondness the multicolored tights he used to wear, proudly, back in the day. The story usually ended with the tights being mothballed and then thrown away (or burned) by the climber's wife.

Another climber asked me where I'd acquired my striped pants and when I told him the answer (American Apparel), he asked, dumbfounded, "so they sell those for ordinary people to wear, like, not as a joke?"

I suppose they do.

We ran into someone I know, the dad of one of my son's friends in elementary school. He was a big-time Gunkie back when he was younger, but he fell out of it while his kids were little, only recently returning to the climbing game. On Saturday he was in the Gunks with a group and when they first looked over at us he wondered to his friends, "Is that guy serious?" Then he realized who I was and said, "I know that guy!" He came over to make sure I was NOT serious, and then-- like all the other old-timers-- told me with pride about the climbing tights he used to wear. His had little fluorescent lizards all over them.

Just before we left the Uberfall area one climber said to me, "Okay, so the 80's, I get it... but, why?"

I could only answer his question with another question: "Why the hell not?"

It was time to move on. We decided to head on down to the Seasons area. I was considering leading The Winter (5.10d) and Gail wanted to check out Bold-Ville (5.8). We kept the costumes on but went back to our usual rack, including Camalots and Aliens and skinny slings.

(Photo: No one puts Gail in a corner-- except in the Gunks. Here she's on The Nose/Fillipina (5.9-).)

Our chosen climbs were occupied so I decided to lead The Nose/Fillipina (5.9-), a climb I'd done once before in 2011. I remembered that the roof problem at the end of the pitch was really exciting, and it did not disappoint on Saturday. Under the roof there is a very committing move to the right to a finger-sized horizontal. The feet drop away to nothing and you can't see how you're going to surmount the big overhang. It is a thriller. You try to scream, but terror takes the sound before you make it-- and then you just suck it up and make the move and it's all there.

(Photo: Dancing on the ceiling-- Gail at the Fillipina (5.9-) roof.)

Gail then led pitch one of Bold-ville (5.8) and did a great job. (She's got legs; she knows how to use them.) Bold-ville is a favorite of mine; I've done it several times. It is very continuous, with lots of quality moves. Steep reaches past an overhang at the outset lead to some technical moves up a curving corner. There is bomber gear all the way.

(Photo: Sitting pretty in pink. Gail at the initial overhang on Bold-ville (5.8).)

As I belayed Gail on Bold-ville I'd all but forgotten Eighties Day but just then a pair of climbers walked up and one of them said, "I'd like to congratulate you on wearing the best pants I've seen at the crag today." It was nice.

Next I started up The Winter (5.10d) but I got into trouble right from the start. I had a hard time with the politics of dancing up the initial slot. It was a shock after feeling so strong for so much of the day. The route was a little bit seepy and slimy and after I placed one piece, the next move up felt awkward and insecure on lead. I wanted another gear placement before moving up again but I couldn't find one and, fearing a ground fall, I eventually decided it wasn't worth it and climbed back down.

What a mess on the ladder of success. Looking at the photos, I think I would have been fine for one more move. I guess I should go back and try it again. I may have just been caught up in a whirlwind, and my ever-changing moods.

(Photo: Should I stay or should I go? Feeling uncertain on a wet Winter (5.10d).)

After I down-climbed off of The Winter we moved over to the right a bit and did the first pitch of Shit Creek (allegedly 5.6). Many years ago I had an epic on this pitch with my friend Greg. Back then I got up to the second roof, decided there was no way it could really be 5.6, and escaped up a blocky corner to the right. I ended up getting one of my double ropes stuck in the blocky corner and spent hours sorting it all out.

(Photo: Gail at the second roof on Shit Creek (P1 5.6).)

On Saturday, with Gail, I did the route the modern way, going directly over the second roof and then climbing up steep rock to the pumpy hand traverse to the finish. It is a high quality pitch with a ton of climbing on it, and three good cruxes. But I wouldn't put a 5.6 leader on this pitch. It felt stiff for 5.6 to me and the gear is not great. The pin at the second roof is old and there is no way to back it up. There is sparse gear for the face-climbing above and then after the final (well-protected) hand traverse, there is a lot of loose rock for the final twenty feet or so. I would probably do Shit Creek again if there were nothing else available, but if I'm there on an uncrowded day I'll be tempted by the route of another. Blistered Toe (5.7+), for example, is a better nearby alternative.

By the time we were done with Shit Creek the sun was setting. But I still wanted to climb a little more. "Don't dream it's over," I said to Gail. We still had time to run up the short 5.9 first pitch of The Spring in the fading light.

(Photo: The corner climbing on The Spring (P1 5.9) requires you to put a little boogie in your butt.)

We walked out in the dark. I put on my headlamp but apparently my leggings had some florescent properties. As I crossed the parking lot to my car I heard a final call from a stranger behind me:

"NICE PANTS!"

This was not a day on which I achieved much of anything but Gail and I had a fantastic time. I've been smiling about it all week. It was like a little party all day long. If it's true that the best climber is the one having the most fun, then Gail and I were the best climbers at the Gunks last Saturday, by far. And it was great to see Gail leading so strong too.

It sure seemed like there was a lot of nostalgia for tights around the cliffs. Maybe they'll make a comeback and we can all proudly wear tights while rock climbing again. Wouldn't that be something?

The Secret Gunks Tricam Society: A Major Motion Picture (Soundtrack by Whitesnake)

(Photo: Looking up at the big dihedral ascended by Horseman (5.5). Adrian is barely visible at the outside corner after the traverse.)

The summer always seems to slip on by, doesn't it?

For the last few weeks both of our kids have been at sleepaway camp, leaving Robin and me free to do WHATEVER.

You might think this situation would lead to tons of rock climbing for me.

But for the second year in a row it hasn't worked out that way.

I'm not bitter about this. Robin and I did lots of fun things together. The only slight downside was that these things did not include rock climbing.

We did some outstanding hiking. We had several wonderful days in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. First, before we dropped our daughter Leah at camp, we climbed three peaks out of Franconia Notch. We ascended the Falling Waters trail and hiked the ridge connecting Mounts Little Haystack, Lincoln, and Lafayette, then descended the Greenleaf Trail and the Old Bridle Path back to the notch.

(Photo: As you approach the top of the Falling Waters Trail you get a complete view of Cannon Cliff across the notch.)

Though she is not a huge fan of hiking, Leah made it through this rugged nine mile trip like a real trooper. She didn't even give me too much grief when I dropped our camera in a river.

(Photo: Checking out the view with Leah atop Mt. Lafayette.)

After we dropped Leah at camp, Robin and I did three more days of hiking, exploring the Presidential Range from many different angles.

(Photo: Nearing the top of Mt. Adams on a hazy day, with the summits of Mts. JQ Adams and Madison visible behind Robin.)

(Photo: View north from Mt. Jackson towards Mts. Pierce, Eisenhower, Monroe, and Washington, though Washington's summit is obscured by a cloud.)

(Photo: View across the Great Gulf Wilderness to Mts. Jefferson, Adams, and Madison, taken while descending from Mt. Washington.)

We also spent a fun weekend with some friends in the Adirondacks, hiking up to the top of Mount Giant on Saturday and doing a little kayaking in the Saranac Lakes region on Sunday.

(Photo: View from the Giant trail of Chapel Pond Slab across the pass.)

(Photo: Robin and I paddling in sync for a brief shining moment. Photo by Karen Froehlich.)

With all of this physical activity, I was at some risk of improving my fitness while the children were away, but fear not: the rest of our free days were filled with a never-ending parade of restaurant meals and bottles of wine. By the time I finally got back to the Gunks last Sunday (after almost a month away), I felt chubby and out of shape.

Nevertheless, before our day of climbing I sent my partner Adrian a list of about fifteen 5.10 pitches I was eager to hit. Some of them were new for me but many were climbs I needed to redpoint after failing on my first (or even second) attempt.

At the top of my list was P-38 (5.10b), a climb that defeated me just a few weeks ago. I was tempted to go right to it when we arrived at the Trapps but we decided instead to warm up on Horseman (5.5).

Adrian led Horseman and to better manage drag he did not clip the fixed pin anchor when he traversed around the corner. Since there was no gear over to the left around the corner, I decided (just for a change of pace) to try the direct route when I followed, going straight up through the overhang and skipping the usual traverse. This has always looked harder than 5.5 to me, but looks can be deceiving. You don't really climb it as a roof but instead do a few casual moves on the left wall, and then very quickly you are back on the regular route. It was perfectly nice but I think the regular traverse is more fun.

With Horseman finished we marched over to P-38. This time I hoped I would remember my beta and get the send.

(Photo: Starting up my arch-nemesis, P-38 (5.10b).)

I was surprised to find myself puzzling through the first hard move over the low overhang, once again. I thought I knew what to do, but I still had to work it out. "Here I go again," I thought.

This brought to mind a song.

A Whitesnake song.

Here I go again, on my own, I sang.

Going down the only road I've ever known!

Then I decided to change it up a little bit:

Like a drifter I was born to climb the stone!

Though I'm nobody's poet I thought this variation wasn't half bad. Adrian then threw in his own contribution:

But I've made up my mind... I ain't climbing no more nines!

Hilarious. Or we thought so. Another one Adrian came up with:

But I know what it means... to climb upon this lonesome wall of seams!

All we needed was Tawny Kitaen.

(Photo: Trying to do well on P-38 (5.10b).)

Anyway, I fought through the first move successfully and then tried to do everything well. I placed good gear and made sure to milk the rest before the crux. Then I moved up and left into the business. I knew what to do; I just had to execute.

But I couldn't make it. Despite the rest, I got pumped out. It was hot outside. The holds felt greasy. And I just felt weak. I started to high step but sensed I was about to slip. I had to hang. It took me a few more tries to get it done. Finally I did the move and it felt so much harder than before. Maybe this just wasn't going to be my day.

I felt very out of shape indeed.

Adrian managed to follow it cleanly, which he made sure to mention repeatedly.

Next we moved down to the Mac Wall. Adrian wanted to climb Higher Stannard (5.9-). He'd tried to get on it the day before but there was a slow party on it so he never got around to it. It is a favorite of mine so I was happy to follow him on it. I hoped it would give me a clue as to what I could lead next. I felt so pumped out after P-38 that I wasn't sure whether I should try to lead anything else that was challenging.

(Photo: Adrian near the start of Higher Stannard (5.9-).)

Adrian did a good job on it and I felt fine following it, to my relief. I cruised through the crux blank face and enjoyed the rest of the consistent, 5.8-ish face climbing.

(Photo: That's me following Higher Stannard (5.9-).)

Now I had a dilemma: what to do? Should I try to lead another ten? We talked a bit about Try Again (5.10b), a climb I first attempted this past April. We also talked about MF (5.9). This would theoretically be easier than Try Again, but is it really? I think MF has more sustained difficulties than Try Again. Adrian was shocked that I'd only done MF the one time, three years ago, in the rain. Adrian doesn't even live around here and he's done it several times.

I decided to do a test run on MF and see if I felt up to Try Again.

(Photo: In the early going on MF (5.9). Photo taken by Debra Beattie while climbing Something Interesting (5.7+).)

We only did the first pitch. I enjoyed it a great deal and while I wouldn't call it casual I felt it was well within my limits. The crux move around the corner takes real commitment, even though the gear is good. It requires unusual technique, and balance. This is a very high quality pitch with a hard move right off the ground, then the real crux at the corner, and another final hard bit over a bulge to the chains. 

(Photo: Adrian at the corner crux on MF (5.9).)

I felt good enough on MF to hop right on Try Again. Adrian was gracious enough to let me lead twice in a row.

Back in April I'd taken three tries to figure out the hard roof. I hoped that with the beta in my mind I would get through it on the first try this time. And I hoped I'd feel strong enough.

(Photo: Trying again on Try Again (5.10b).)

Well, I tried again to do everything right. I successfully negotiated the slightly sketchy 5.9 move off the ledge. Then I got up the two corners below the roof, clipped the pin, and managed to get into the rest position.

So far, so good, but as I tried the roof I was mystified. I couldn't get over it, and I couldn't remember how I did it the last time. I took a hang. Then I fell. I fell again and kept right on falling.

Here I go again, on my own.....

Finally I realized that I'd been missing a crucial hold, right there in front of my face. Once I spotted it, I used it and got over the roof, furious with myself and exhausted.

It just wasn't my day, I guess.

(Photo: Adrian on Try Again (5.10b).)

Adrian didn't do much better than I did on Try Again and by the time we were done with it he was feeling pretty wiped out and ready to quit. He had a long drive back to Montreal ahead of him. We decided to head back to the Uberfall area where maybe I'd lead something quick if it was open.

We found Apoplexy (5.9) available so I hopped on it.

There was a ranger behind us hanging out at his truck as we began the climb. Right before I started up, Rich Romano rode up on a mountain bike and started chatting with the ranger.

Now, I don't know Rich, though I have introduced myself to him once or twice. I see him around the Gunks all the time. It is no exaggeration to say that he is one of the boldest and most prolific route developers of his generation. He basically single-handedly developed the entire Millbrook cliff without the use of a single protection bolt. While filling in the lines at Millbrook he put up numerous R/X routes in the 5.10-5.12 range, several of which are so scary they have never seen a second ascent.

He is a giant among men.

I was conscious of him being there as I began the climb but I was able to put it out of my mind relatively quickly. I am comfortable on Apoplexy and didn't mind an audience.

Soon I passed the scary flake where it can be hard to find good gear. It can be hard, that is, unless you know about the secret pink Tricam placement. I will happily let you in on this intelligence if you like, inducting you, dear reader, into the Secret Gunks Tricam Society.

Here is the beta, free of charge:

There is a shallow pocket just up and right of the scary flake. It won't take a cam but if you pop a pink Tricam in just right, with the stinger facing down, it will catch on a little lip giving you a solid placement. Set it with a flick of the wrist and you are good to go. BOMBER!

I had heard for years about this secret placement but I gave up on it after trying once in vain to find it. Later, when I was climbing Apoplexy on another occasion with Gail, she suggested I look again and I was able to make it work. I wasn't sure how solid it was but when Gail followed the pitch she bounce-tested the piece and it held. So now when I climb Apoplexy I have no worries at the flake. I pop in the secret Tricam and I move on.

(Photo: Apoplexy (5.9), with the secret Tricam in place. I'm in the photo up at the top, almost done with the chimney finish.)

As I passed the flake the other day with Adrian, I wasn't listening to Romano or the ranger but Adrian later reported to me that Romano said something to the ranger about how difficult it is to protect Apoplexy through the middle. And the ranger then pointed up and said "I don't know about that. This guy found the secret Tricam placement!"

"This guy" was me.

When I heard this story I felt very proud. I only wished I'd heard it at the time. I could have basked in the glory of the secret Tricam placement and danced that much more lightly up the rock.

Despite this undeniable triumph, it was hard not to leave the Gunks thinking that I have a lot of work to do. I am out of shape and I need to get back in it if I want to make progress. I haven't been cycling and I've gained a few pounds.

Sending season is just around the corner. I don't have tons of time, but if I just get a little more fit in the next month I'm sure I can get back on track by the time the good weather hits. In addition, I have a big trip planned to the Red River Gorge in October and I want to be in good shape for the overhanging jug fest that the Red is known to be. I don't need to be hauling any spare tires up the steepness.

Perhaps I am hard on myself. Hot weather saps the energy and makes everything feel greasy. I should be happy that climbs like Apoplexy and MF-- routes that inspired fear in me a few years ago-- are my safety choices nowadays. If in years to come, as I get even more over-the-hill, I can still feel unfazed about attacking climbs like MF, I hope I remember to feel great about it.

Winter of Our Discontent? Early Season Climbing in the Uberfall

(Photo: Snowshoeing around the Trapps in mid-February.)

Man, it has been a long winter, hasn't it?

When I climbed in the Trapps on November 10, I didn't really believe that was going to be it for the year. Usually we get a few warm days here and there, even into December. And sometimes there are some reasonable climbing days in January and February. 

Not this winter. It has been pretty brutal.

Of course it has probably been a tremendous winter for ice climbing. But I haven't felt motivated to make it happen this year. I don't feel experienced enough to lead on ice. I could top-rope in the Catskills. I really should have done this several times. But for some reason I just haven't gotten it together.

(Photo: The Casablanca wall in the Trapps in mid-February.)

I was feeling pretty good when the 2013 climbing season ended. After missing most of the summer with various obligations and vacations I had a little run of success in the autumn, knocking off several 5.10 projects-- Bird Cage (5.10b), Feast of Fools (5.10b), Wegetables (5.10a), Red Cabbage Right (5.10b), and Nosedive (5.10b)-- leading most of them on-sight. 

All winter I've intended to put in place a real training regimen, but it never seems to get beyond the incipient stages. Usually I enforce whatever diet and exercise plan I've come up with for a week or two and then inevitably I revert to eating whatever and "just climbing" at the gym.

On President's Day weekend I was up in the Gunks for the first time since November, with my wife Robin and the kids. Gail was kind enough to host us at her house in Gardiner. We did some snowshoeing around the Trapps as well as some sledding with friends who live in the area.

The Preserve was beautiful in the winter conditions. I'd never seen it so snowy. Walking past the "S" turn on the Undercliff Road, I could see icicles hanging from the roof on Casablanca (5.9). The Boxcar boulder was half buried in snow. We had a good time trudging around. I fooled around a little bit, pretending to boulder while wearing the awkward snowshoes.

(Photo: Doing the Andrew problem (V4) in snowshoes. Or pretending to, anyway...)

Our wintry visit to the Gunks sent my already-severe feelings of climbing withdrawal into previously unseen, dangerous levels. I was more desperate than ever to get out there at the first opportunity.

Last weekend this opportunity finally came. It was due to hit fifty degrees in New Paltz on Saturday, March 8. Sunday was supposed to be colder. Unfortunately we had evening plans on Saturday, which made it difficult to climb that day. So I decided to go on Sunday with my gym pal Deepak.

But the forecast for Sunday got colder and colder. At about 9:00 on Saturday morning I checked the forecast and, seeing projected highs for Sunday in the low thirties, decided I had to call it off. But then it occurred to me that half a day on Saturday would be better than nothing at all for the whole weekend. So I asked Deepak if he'd like to go, say, RIGHT NOW???

Luckily for me he was flexible and we were in business!

We got to the Gunks just before noon and only had a few hours in which to climb. But it was great to be there at all. It was like a Gunks reunion. We ran into local celebrities Denis O'Connor and Christian Fracchia. Everyone was all smiles, grateful for any opportunity to feed our little shared obsession.

The cliff was in surprisingly good condition. There was still more than a foot of snow on the ground (and atop the cliff) but the snow was pretty consolidated and easy to walk upon. And the walls were generally dry. The melt-off hadn't really begun yet.

(Photo: At the base of Nice Crack Climb (5.7), excited to climb! The tarp was helpful.)

We had limited time so we jumped on the first thing we saw. As we rounded the Handy Andy corner and got our first glimpse of the main face of the Trapps, it appeared all of the climbs on the Black Fly wall were dry, so I decided on Nice Crack Climb (5.7) for my first lead of the year. It is an okay climb. The crux move is right off the ground and the rest is pleasant enough, if rather unremarkable.

(Photo: Deepak working out the crux move on Nice 5.9 Climb.)

Since we were right there I decided to knock off Nice 5.9 Climb for my first 5.9 lead of the year. I felt good and had no trouble. I had to think through the high-step crux-- is the foothold really THAT high? Yes it is!-- but then it was not a problem. And the second crux is more fun than I remembered. This pitch looks like a throwaway but is well worth doing.

(Photo: Leo on Apoplexy (5.9).)

Next we walked into the Uberfall area and found climbers on Retribution (5.10b) and Nosedive (5.10b). We found our gym friend Leo there too, leading my old favorite Apoplexy (5.9). Deepak and I decided to do a quick run up Rhododendron (one of my earliest 5.6 leads, and a good one) and then we hung out briefly with Leo and his friends until they were finished with Apoplexy. When they moved next door to top-rope Coronary (5.10b/c), I led Apoplexy for our final route of the day. It felt so good. I was in control, casual. I felt absolutely free. 

(Photo: Chillin' (literally!) at the base of Apoplexy (5.9) and Coronary (5.10b/c).)

It was wonderful to be out there, even if we were just doing familiar climbs in the glorified gymnasium atmosphere of the Uberfall.

This weekend turned out to be kind of a repeat of last weekend. Robin and I were hosting a party on Saturday night so I planned to meet Gail on Sunday (today) for a full day of climbing. But again the forecast was for much warmer temperatures on Saturday than Sunday so Gail and I decided to settle for a half day on Saturday rather than risk being shut out entirely for the weekend.

The conditions had deteriorated from the week before. Numerous freeze-thaw cycles had caused the snow atop the cliff to run off and then re-freeze into icicles, which during our climbing day came noisily raining down at some locations around us. The carriage road was a treacherous sheet of ice as we walked in and a slushy puddle as we walked out.

But most of the cliff was fine. We stayed in the Uberfall area again and actually managed to do a few routes I'd never done before.

We started with Eyebrow (5.6), which was new for me. I was pleasantly surprised by this pitch. As you leave the ground it seems there is no obvious line, but as you climb up it presents itself. There is a lot of climbing on this one, including some good traverse moves. I enjoyed it.

(Photo: Gail at one of the harder sections on Nosedive (5.10b).)

I'd felt so good last weekend that I couldn't resist the idea of jumping on a 5.10. Retribution and Nosedive were open so after we were done with Eyebrow I hopped right on Retribution (5.10b). 

I found out pretty quickly that I'm not in prime Gunks mental shape yet. Retribution felt pretty hard to me, much harder than when I'd previously led it in the summer! I hesitated at the low move at the pin but got through it, and then at the little crux roof I got up into the undercling and only half-committed to the crux reach before taking a short fall onto my bomber gear. Angry with myself, I went right back up and committed fully to the big reach, getting the bomber pockets and moving up above the roof. Through the easier remainder of the pitch I placed good gear and made the moves, but after my little struggle at the crux I felt a bit shaky and pumped-out at the tougher bits. 

I had toyed with the notion of leading Nosedive but, recognizing that I'd been a little bit overly eager on Retribution, I was content to top-rope it. This remains a very high quality pitch, much better than Retribution, with several unusual challenges.

(Photo: Mitch on Dirty Gerdie (5.8++).)

Gail's husband Mitch came out to join us as we finished with Retribution & Nosedive. We moved over to the Gerdie Block so I could lead Dirty Gerdie (5.8+). I really enjoyed leading this one last year and yesterday I liked it just as much. It packs several great sequences into 50 feet of climbing. And I still think the 5.8+ grade is a ridiculous sandbag. This is the hardest 5.8 I've ever climbed.

I was already running out of time and Gail suggested one last lead for me, another climb I'd previously overlooked in the Uberfall: Sudoriferous (5.8 variation). It was just a short scramble up around the left side of the Gerdie block. 

(Photo: Gail negotiating the steep face on Sudoriferous (5.8 variation).)

This is a nice one, not unlike No Picnic (5.5) and Shit or Go Blind (5.8) on the same wall. It features good steep Gunks face climbing with jugs. I liked the early bits too, the easy climbing up the initial chimney and the step across to the right-facing corner beneath the bulging face. Good fun with nice variety. I would suggest caution at the step across, however: the rock quality here is questionable. 

After our long winter, I feel fortunate to have made the most of these two half days in March. I am eager to get more days on rock in late March and early April, because I have a big trip to Yosemite planned in mid/late April with my old buddy Adrian. It is a dream come true for me and I don't want to waste the opportunity. I plan to get my lead head together by leading as much as I possibly can outside, and now that the Cliffs of Long Island City is opening back up (any day now!) I hope to put as many sessions in on their jam crack as I can. I feel like I've lost every bit of crack confidence I acquired in Squamish last year and I need to do some crash prep in the gym before the big test out on real granite in California! 

Climbing in the Far Trapps: Footloose (5.8), Fancy Free (5.8+), Casanova (5.9-) & More

(Photo: Past the sketchy bit on Wegetables (5.10a).

It seems like a long time ago, but actually only a few weeks have passed since we enjoyed plentiful groceries, steady electrical power, ample gasoline, and dryness.

And warmth. It was October, a time of beautiful high-season climbing in the Gunks.

I was fortunate enough to climb on one of these gorgeous fall Sundays with Gail.

I reckoned it was going to be crowded so I suggested we walk all the way down to the far end of the Trapps. It seemed like a good day to attack Wegetables (5.10a), a climb I was determined to send in 2012. I had bailed on the lead a year ago but now I was hoping to get it clean. And I figured that once we trooped down to the end of the cliff we'd find lots of other climbs we could check out.

Gail had spent hardly any time down there so she was more than willing.

The walk down the carriage road was beautiful. The leaves were just barely past peak, a chorus of oranges and yellows. The temperature was perfect, neither too cold nor too warm. I decided to hit Wegetables right away. I didn't want to chicken out after struggling through some 5.8.

So we racked up and I went right at it. The bottom part remains a little pucker-inducing for my taste, with a reachy opening move and then this tiny vertical seam the only option for protecting the low crux. I did okay with the pro, or the best I could do, anyway. I thought my nuts were more attractive than Adrian's were last year (COUGH... that's what she said, COUGH). I still did not want to fall on them. But no worries, I was confident in my beta from last time, so the moves were not a problem.

(Photo:  Gail working through the opening move on Wegetables.)

I tried to psych myself up to power straight through the upper crux roofs, but I fiddled a bit too long with a cam and ended up taking a hang. I was really pissed off when I realized I'd chickened out just below the last overhang. I had thought there were still two to go. I could have made it.

I rested a minute, then punched through to the top. I'll get it next time.

After Wegetables we took the opportunity to toprope the route next door, Tennish Anyone? (5.10c), a fun short climb. It has an interesting move over a little roof to a horizontal and then a pumpy traverse. I think I could maybe lead it, but during the hard traverse it would be strenuous to place gear. The climb is interesting in that the crux horizontal is just above a little overhang. I thought it would be easier to keep my feet below the overhang, but I struggled in the traverse and had to take. Gail, by contrast, got her feet up above the lip and crab-crawled through the traverse. She made it look much easier.

We were having a good time and there was nobody around so we decided to keep on going in the same area. We did the two obscure no-star climbs Footloose (5.8) and Fancy Free (5.8+). Both of these climbs have short first pitches to fixed anchors. Dick doesn't recommend continuing with the lichen-choked second pitches.

(Photo:  Contemplating the awkward move into the bulge on Footloose (5.8).)

I thought Footloose was kind of a waste of time. It has one awkward move up to a little bulge. After that it is a cruise, nice enough but nothing terribly interesting. And the fixed rap station is just a bush. It is alive but it is impossible to judge its strength. I didn't want to use it, so we traversed left over to the Wegetables/Tennish tree. (Even this tree is a bit small for my taste-- we backed it up with a cam the first time we used it.) You could traverse even further. The ledge widens until you find yourself walking off.

While Footloose isn't so hot, Fancy Free is quite worthwhile. Good climbing up a corner leads to an intimidating traverse out a horizontal seam. The handholds for the traverse are tiny crimps and the feet are just smears. It is just a couple of moves to better footholds but the traverse still gave me pause, since even assuming my blue Alien out there was bomber, I was still risking a fall back into the corner. I probably smeared out the traverse for one step too many, making it a touch harder for myself. Gail found a good foothold a couple of steps out that I missed-- if I'd found it I likely would have placed another piece.

I will definitely repeat Fancy Free next time I'm out there. It deserves a star. If only it were longer.

(Photo:  Gail working through the first steep bit on Art's Route (5.9).)

We continued our spree of short climbs with Art's Route (5.9). I struggled a bit when I led this earlier this year, but this time around it went off without a hitch. The upper roof crux is all about footwork, forget what I said last time. I really like this little pitch; both cruxes are unique and challenging. I used a knee again to get through the initial mantel, but then Gail discovered some holds on the left wall that I'd completely ignored, which made it possible for her to do the first crux without any mantel at all. It's so often instructive to watch other climbers. To me one of the beauties of climbing is that every problem has multiple solutions. Sometimes the different solutions work for different body types-- and sometimes your partner just finds a hold that makes you look like a moron.

We still had some time left and I thought it would be fun to check out another obscure Far Trapps no-star special. We looked around a bit and came up with two candidates: Counter Strike (5.9) and Casanova (5.9-). Counter Strike looked like it might be fun, but only for the crux traverse, for which both Swain and Williams recommend multiple big cams.

We decided to try Casanova instead. This was a good decision. We both really liked it.

The climb follows an non-obvious line. Dick's description helps. But Dick makes the climbing sound more difficult than it is. He talks about "intricate route finding," but I thought it was pretty clear where to go. Easy climbing leads up to the right side of a small overhang, then after moving a few feet right you head pretty much straight up the face, wandering just a little left or right to keep the face climbing at 5.7. It is pretty apparent where you are going, because the face is slightly cleaner when you are on the right path. You do have to look around, though, and there is no chalk highway there to help you along. This is high-quality classic Gunks face climbing, with good moves between horizontals.

(Photo:  Gail at the crux of Casanova (5.9-).)

And then the crux turned out to be a little different than I expected. You move up into some overhangs beneath a larger roof, and then traverse left a few feet to escape the ceiling. I thought it would be nothing but steep jugs but once I got fully into it I was surprised to discover that the holds for the moves left are sandy slopers. The pro is very good but I still went up and down a few times before I fully committed to the slopers and got through it. Exciting!

Be warned that after the crux you find yourself in extremely lichenous territory (as you can see in the photo above), with lots of loose rock. The little ledge beneath the crux also has a bunch of loose stones on it, so be careful. In addition, take note that this pitch is over 100 feet. Dick says you need two ropes to descend, but we moved left to belay at the Emilio tree and Gail's 70 meter single rope just made it to the ground.  

Our day was winding down so we decided to head back towards the Uberfall. As we walked out, we looked for a good pitch with which to finish our day. Gail suggested Apoplexy (5.9), and though I wasn't sure I had another 5.9 in me I decided to just go for it. I was psyched when it felt pretty casual. Such a joy. I took my time with it, savoring the moves all the way to the top. In the spring of 2011 this was a milestone lead for me, but now it is just a normal climb, well within my limits. It is a good feeling.

Gunks Routes: Pas De Deux (5.8) & Apoplexy (5.9)

Since returning from Vegas I'd had only one short day in the Gunks, with just four pitches, mostly easy stuff.

But the last climb of that short day, pitch one of Pas De Deux (5.8), really changed everything.

I felt so solid.

Pas De Deux is hard for 5.8; it is a little scary. As Dick Williams says, the climb features thoughtful and committing moves for the first 30 feet. The climb winds its way slightly right, and then slightly left, all rather close to the ground, until thin face moves lead to a vertical crack, which is then followed upwards to easier climbing between good horizontals. In the traverse left to the vertical crack, I worried for a moment that I was in too deep. I'd chosen the high foot traverse rather than the low hand traverse, and I was now perched in a tenuous position, with great footholds but tiny crimps for the hands. Matching my two hands on a minuscule pebble, I stretched left, reaching, reaching for the edge of the vertical crack that I hoped would put me at a good stance with more gear. It was balancy, precarious. My last piece was below my feet and to the right. But my footwork was good, my fingers worked the crimps, and with the move completed, I knew this climb was as good as in the bag.

As I exhaled and placed a cam, I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time. I felt that fire in the belly, the hunger I didn't even know I'd been missing for more than a year.

I was finally ready to start pushing it a little more. The rock felt so good. I was fit, climbing well. It was time. Time to start moving forward and to challenge myself. Time to break back into 5.9 at the Gunks.

So for my next day out I started to get very excited about various possibilities. One climb in particular, Apoplexy, became the focus for me, the climb I just had to do. And this was strange since Apoplexy was a climb I'd never even considered leading before. I had always been scared off because I was a little worried about the pro. The climb has a reputation as being tricky to protect through the middle, at a fragile flake that many people consider untrustworthy.

But now I wasn't too concerned about the pro through the middle, because it isn't the crux. Dick's guide says this part of the route is 5.8. Not so bad. 5.8 face climbs have felt pretty good to me lately.

I also felt a boost in confidence because I'd been on this climb once before. It must have been at least three years ago: I threw a toprope over Apoplexy by leading up Dirty Chimney (5.0) to the ledge, then moving left to Pony Express (5.6-) and up to the chains that sit above and right of Apoplexy's crux. Looking back, I remember more about setting up that toprope than I do about climbing Apoplexy that day. I recall working my way up the chimney and then somehow getting kind of sketched out on the traverse over to Pony Express. I ended up hugging the huge tree that used to sit on the ledge. That tree is gone now; it fell down during a spring storm in 2010. It sure seemed sturdy three or four years ago when I was holding on to it for dear life.

All I remember about the climbing on Apoplexy back then is that it didn't seem so difficult on toprope. The face climbing was reasonable. The crux overhang seemed more straightforward than the one on the third pitch of Maria (5.6+). I knew that leading it in 2011 would feel completely different from toproping it in 2008, but I took some comfort from my prior experience: I was pretty sure I wouldn't be spit off the climb because I missed a secret hold or needed some special beta.

Another factor in Apoplexy's favor was that it is such a Gunks classic. Everyone walks right by it; it is surrounded by some of the most popular climbs in the Trapps. All the real Gunkies have climbed it over and over again. There are Gunks regulars who end every climbing day with a run up Apoplexy. Gunks blogger Dawn Alguard has probably climbed Apoplexy a thousand times. And here I had never led it, not once. This situation had to be rectified.

The plan was to go up to the Gunks on a Tuesday with Liz. The fact that we were heading up on a weekday sealed the deal for me. The Uberfall would be relatively empty. I wouldn't be climbing in front of a huge audience. I needed to do this.

When we arrived on Tuesday, we warmed up on a couple easy pitches and then headed over to the climb. I told Liz if it was occupied we'd just go do something else. No sense in waiting for a climb on a weekday. A small part of me would have been relieved if it had been occupied. As we approached the base of the Apoplexy I was filled with both excitement and dread. I knew this climb was well within my climbing abilities. But was my head really ready?

The climb was open. We flaked out the ropes and I headed up.

The early face climbing is pretty casual. I passed the first horizontal, clipping the totally unnecessary angle piton and placing another cam next to it. I got another great cam in the next horizontal and clipped the rope into it direct since it looked like the next pro was going to come at the infamous shaky flake about 30 feet off the ground.

Then I stepped up to the flake. It makes for a great handhold. I found getting pro behind it to be kind of a challenge. I wanted a nut rather than a cam-- I didn't want to put any expanding forces on the flake in the event of a fall-- but it seemed to me that the micronut I worked into the space behind the flake might pull out sideways if it was tested. So I tried to get a little C3 behind the flake, but no dice. Then I thought about the little pod up and right of the flake. I'd read that a tricam could be worked into this pod, so I tried to place one, again without success.

The nut was going to have to do.

I started to step to the left, because Dick says it is a little easier that way. But I couldn't find anything easy over there. It seemed that if I went straight up from the flake instead it would be just one thin move and then I'd be able to reach the next good horizontal. So I started to step up, but as I did so I looked down at that nut behind the flake and I didn't like it. Maybe a smaller nut would seat more securely?

I downclimbed a step and dicked around with another nut behind the flake. Better? Possibly.

I had to get on with this early surprise crux before I lost my nerve. I made the thin step, grabbed the horizontal, and moved up. So far, so good. All according to plan.

Now came the real business. Up into a shallow right-facing corner, and then a committing layback move with good pro up and around left to a pumpy stance beneath the overhang. As I made the moves up to and under the overhang, I started to feel the strain in my forearms immediately.

I thought the horizontal below the little roof would take a good cam. I worked one in. I extended it with a sling. Then I had to shake out. I still needed to clip the rope to the little bugger. If I couldn't clip the cam it wouldn't do a thing for me. I grabbed the rope with my left hand and tried to make the clip, but I had to abort the clipping and grab back onto the hold. I shook out my right hand again, and got set to try once more to make the clip. The pump clock was ticking. This wasn't going to get any easier.

As I hung in there, looking at this cam I had yet to clip, my mind was racing. Was I going to be able to clip it? If I expended the energy to make the clip, would I be able to make the moves above the overhang? Should I have just climbed through without placing more gear? Was attempting this climb a mistake?

There is a well-known maxim in climbing that advises "when in doubt, run it out," which means that if you are faced with a cruxy sequence and aren't sure you have the strength to both place gear and make the moves, it is better to choose to make the moves. The thinking behind this rule, as I understand it, is that once the hard moves are behind you, you can rest or place gear, and you never have to take a fall. If instead you choose to stop and place gear before the cruxy moves, the likelihood that you will fall and test that gear (and perhaps be injured) increases greatly.

I have always had mixed feelings about this rule. It seems to me that if the leader "runs it out," the increased possibility of injury in a fall without gear might outweigh the increased likelihood of completing the moves. I find it very difficult to balance the risks and benefits of these two possibilities. To my mind it seems that the real question any climber in this situation should ask him or herself is: why am I in doubt in the first place? If you are forced to choose between placing gear and making the moves, you've made an error in judgment. You are climbing something that is above your leading abilities. And now both of your choices are less than ideal.

One of the things I admire about my partner Adrian is that he always, and I mean always, places great pro in the crux. To me it is a sign that he knows his limits and stays within them. He has the juice to place the necessary gear and still make the moves. He doesn't run it out, because he isn't in doubt. I aspire to be like this.

And yet on Tuesday I found myself hanging in there at the roof crux of Apoplexy, in more than a little doubt. I knew I had good gear just a few feet below me, but I wanted the gear at the roof. I couldn't stop thinking about what a fall from just above the roof would be like if I couldn't clip the gear. It would be just like the fall on Insuhlation that broke my ankle in October 2009, and I obviously did not want to go there again.

I told myself this had to stop. I knew I could make this clip. I knew I could make the moves. I didn't have to choose one or the other. I was solid and I was going to get this done. I was going to grab the rope and pull it up strong to the carabiner; no more failures. And then I was going to blast through the moves above the overhang to the stance.

I made the clip; I made the moves. I got to the stance and felt like a million bucks. I had done it; I was back in it to win it. It really hadn't been that hard, once I sacked up and went for it.

I decided to finish the route with the chimney above the crux rather than moving right to the chains, and I'm glad I did. The chimney is fun, even if it is much easier than the rest of the climb. (It's probably 5.5 or so.) Doing the chimney adds to the variety of the climb, and you get to top out, which is always such a great feeling. If you climb with double ropes, it is easy to rap off the Horseman tree just a few feet to the left. A single 60 meter rope juuust makes it as well, in my experience. Watch your ends.

After leading Apoplexy I had to wonder why it isn't a three-star climb. (Williams gives it two stars.) It has great face climbing for about 40 feet, then good steep moves up to the overhang, followed by a fun run up a chimney to the top. It is hard to imagine more sustained good climbing in a single pitch.

The climb also occupies an important position historically. Put up by Jim McCarthy in 1960, Apoplexy represents the state of the art of climbing at that time. Along with MF, another classic McCarthy 5.9 that was established the same year (and which McCarthy also gave a name similarly indicative of his perception of its difficulty), Apoplexy was a stepping stone to later, even greater achievements. The following season McCarthy would push through to a whole other level, ushering in the 5.10 era with new climbs like Tough Shift (5.10a) and his first free ascents of Retribution (5.10b) and Nosedive (5.10b).

You no longer have to be one of the best climbers of your generation to climb Apoplexy. But it remains a great stepping stone for climbers of all generations in the Gunks. I can only hope that for me, it is a stepping stone to a lot of other fun 5.9s, and perhaps beyond, this year.