Mac Wall In-A-Day: A Non-Birthday Challenge

(Photo: I'm getting ready to fire the roof on Star Action (5.10b). Photo by Andy.)

Over the past few years I've gotten to know the Mac Wall pretty well.

The wall is stacked with classic 5.10 climbs. For a long time I was intimidated by several of the routes, but as the years went by I eventually climbed all of them (except for Water King (5.10d R), which no one ever does). I'm most familiar with the hardest ones, since I had to work to get them clean. A few of them I've only done once or twice, and one of them-- MF Direct (5.10a)-- I've only followed.

Last year, after I finally sent Coexistence (5.10d) and Graveyard Shift (5.10d), it occurred to me that I might be ready to try to lead all of the tens at the Mac Wall in a single day. The challenge would involve these climbs:

Still Crazy After All These Years (5.10a)
Interstice (5.10b)
Mother's Day Party (5.10b)
MF Direct (5.10a)
Men at Arms (5.10b)
Try Again (5.10b)
Coexistence (5.10d)
Star Action (5.10b)
Graveyard Shift (5.10d) and
Tough Shift (5.10a).

Ten tens. It is quite a list! Some of them are hard for 5.10 and many of them have some serious moments.

I thought this would be a good challenge for me because while I believed it would be difficult, it didn't sound utterly crazy. I was inspired by the day on which those guys did 30 pitches of 5.10, but I needed a more realistic objective, something that seemed within the realm of the possible for ordinary humans like me.

Still, leading ten 5.10's was much more than I'd ever tried to do in a day. I didn't know if I'd be up to it. I could really be dogging it by the end. Maybe at some point I'd get exhausted and become too frightened to keep leading these hard climbs.

This wasn't a "birthday challenge," exactly. I wanted to do it when it was still cool out. My birthday is in June. But as 2016 got going I couldn't seem to find a time to do the challenge. As we got into June, I decided to call it a birthday challenge and just to go ahead and try to do it on my next day out.

Andy and I were planning to climb on one recent Sunday. The high was supposed to be around 80 degrees. This was not ideal but I figured it would have to do.

I asked Andy by email if he would be up for belaying me on my Mac Wall challenge.

Andy was an instant supporter.

"Challenge accepted," he wrote.

Here is my pitch-by-pitch account of our day:

1. Try Again (5.10b), 9:00 a.m.

It is already warm when we arrive at the cliff. I had hoped to start with MF, but we find it occupied. No big deal. We move over to Try Again (5.10b) and get ready to begin.

I decide it makes sense to start on the right side of the wall. I want to get the hardest climbs out of the way first, while I am still relatively fresh. And since Try Again and its neighbor Coex are popular, it seems like a good idea to get them done now, while they are open.

Racking up, I feel very nervous. I know I can do all of these routes individually. I worry that I will be overwhelmed by ten in a row. I have to be careful not to let myself get so tired that my judgment becomes impaired.

I'm not that concerned about sending them all. Of course I want to send as many as I can, but I know I have a good chance of falling on Coex and maybe Graveyard. They will be hard for me no matter how well I remember my beta.

I want to avoid falling to the extent possible, to avoid wasting both energy and time. The goal is to get through all ten routes.

Shaking off the jitters, I start up Try Again. It is hot in the sun but I feel good all the way up to the crux. Thinking that I remember my beta, I clip the pin and go for it.

(Photo: Andy at the crux of Try Again (5.10b).)

The crimps above the roof feel greasy in the heat. This roof is hard! I fumble trying to place my toe. I can't hang on and I fall.

I change my approach and "try again."

I fall again.

I had hoped to send this climb. But now I've fallen twice, right out of the starting gate. Maybe I'm not feeling so great today?

With new resolve I go back up and try my original beta again. Success! I am over the roof, where I find a nut placement, right in front of my face, that I've never noticed before. The thin step to the right after the roof feels much more secure with this nut in place. I'll have to file that away for future reference.

Andy cruises the pitch as the second.

2. Coexistence (5.10d), 9:50 a.m.

I've had a slow start, and I expect this second pitch to be the toughest of the day. But I think I remember what to do. I believe I can get the send on Coex. I know I can.

(Photo: I'm starting up Coexistence (5.10d). Photo by Andy.)

I'm still very anxious. Nevertheless I climb smoothly all the way up to the roof. I place my crux gear, clip one of the pins, and shake out. I think I'm in good shape. Once I feel rested, I commit to the moves.

But it just doesn't feel right. I can't make the move I've rehearsed in my mind. I step up and down, up and down. Something is off. I can't match my hands where I usually do it. Finally I take a hang. 

Failure number two. This is becoming a pattern. And I'm wasting precious time.

(Photo: I'm confronting the crux on Coex. Photo by Andy.)

What am I missing? Staring at the holds, I realize I've been grabbing the wrong feature with my left hand. I've become blinded by a faulty memory-- a slave to bad beta.

I sail over the roof. It feels easier than Try Again.

Grrrrrrrrrr. This was a missed opportunity. I really should have sent Coex.

Andy has never been on Coex before. He struggles a bit but ultimately gets the top rope on-sight.

3. Men at Arms (5.10b), 10:40 a.m.

I am expecting this one to go smoothly. It is one of the easiest tens at the Mac Wall. And this is a good thing because I do not intend to fall on Men at Arms. The gear sucks.

(Photo: Andy almost finished with Men at Arms (5.10b).)

It goes well. I really like the climbing on this route. But there are moves of 5.9-ish difficulty all over it that are above so-so placements. After the upper crux move (above a tiny nut) there is a significant runout before you can get a piece again. I am not happy to be so far above my gear. 

Whatever. It is over and done with. I finally have a send in the bank.

Andy follows the pitch with no issues.

4. Graveyard Shift (5.10d), 11:30 a.m.

This is the most tense moment of the day for me. As I prepare to start Graveyard Shift I realize that of all of the demanding climbing at Mac Wall, the thing that scares me the most is the initial 5.8/5.9 runout over a bulge on Graveyard Shift. I have never come close to falling here but I have found that my fear of this section never goes away. Staring up at it fills me with dread.

(Photo: Andy at the scary bulge on Graveyard Shift (5.10d).)

I swallow my emotions and start climbing. The bulge goes fine. But then I blow it once again at the well-protected crux. I forget about a drop-knee move that I usually do when I reach above the roof. I correct my footing mid-reach but I slip off just as my fingers are touching the hold.

I'm learning that it might be better to have no beta than to mindlessly try to execute the wrong beta.

I finish Graveyard feeling depressed. This day is not meeting my expectations. So far I am one for four. I am a bundle of nerves, sweaty, rushing, making lots of mistakes. Am I really going to soldier on through all ten climbs? I am officially sucking.

Andy follows the pitch cleanly.

5. Star Action (5.10b), 12:44 p.m.

Now that Coex and Graveyard Shift are behind me, it is like a great weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. I FINALLY relax. Star Action goes beautifully and I really enjoy it, more than I ever have before. I sail up the face to the roof, barely have to lunge for the good hold, and make the mental-crux move to the left with no worries. It feels great, and gives me a much-needed boost of confidence.

(Photo: That's me in the early going on Star Action (5.10b). Photo by Andy.)

I am amused to see Andy struggle, for once. He's done everything cleanly so far, and has previously led Star Action when the crux was wet! But this time he can't find the holds and ends up throwing wildly for the jug above the roof. Of course (Andy being Andy) he sticks the dyno, but it ain't pretty. It's easy to climb like that when you are on top rope! I'd like to see him try it that way on lead.

6. Tough Shift (5.10a), 1:25 p.m.

I'm not worried about Tough Shift at all. It has a reputation as a dangerous climb but I know the runouts are in relatively easy territory. I've done it before and I am certain it will be fine.

It goes perfectly. I carefully negotiate the tricky starting crack and then the runout upper face feels free and easy. It is a great pitch. This is actually my first complete send of Tough Shift. Last year when I led it I struggled in the opening crack.

(Photo: Andy about to move left onto the runout face at the end of Tough Shift (5.10a).)

Andy cleans it with little effort and we head to the left side of the wall.

7. MF Direct (5.10a R), 2:24 p.m.

I am cruising now. We are past the halfway point and I feel strong. The weather has changed. Clouds are rolling through, threatening rain but also bringing a pleasant, cool breeze.

I've never led this route before. But in the past when I've followed it I have checked out the gear, and I think I know what I want to place.

It goes down easily. I believe with my special gear beta the route is safe, and not R-rated at all. Here is the beta, if you want it: I get a purple C3 in a tiny vertical seam after the first hard move, and then a bomber blue Alien at the thin horizontal a couple of moves higher. After that it's just one more move to the chains.

(Photo: Andy on MF Direct (5.10a).)

Andy follows MF Direct quickly; it is our fastest pitch of the day.

I like MF Direct. It has a couple of big moves to great holds. It is casual, and barely 5.10. I think the original 5.9 version is more fun.

8. Mother's Day Party (5.10b), 3:00 p.m.

I feel like I'm floating now, everything is clicking. I love this pitch. It goes like clockwork. I place two pieces before each of the cruxes and then I fire them off. Great moves and two very different, interesting sequences.

(Photo: I'm just past the first crux on Mother's Day Party (5.10b). Photo by Andy.)

I would climb this pitch any time but to my mind it is actually the most R-rated pitch on the wall. At the first crux you are going to go splat on a ledge if you blow it. There is no avoiding it. And there is good pro for the start of the second crux but by the time you make the last big move to a jug, your gear is ten feet below your ankles. The fall would be huge. The climbing is relatively soft for 5.10b, in my opinion, so if you're solid then all is well. But this route is not to be undertaken lightly.

(Photo: Andy at the upper crux on Mother's Day Party.)

Andy takes his first and only fall of the day on Mother's Day Party, when he gets puzzled in the flakes at the first crux. Perhaps he's getting tired? He goes right back up and, grabbing the jug, curses himself. Hey, nobody's perfect.

9. Interstice (5.10b), 3:50 p.m.

The end is in sight. We are taking our time now. We pause to support a leader named Ryan who is taking his first run up MF (the 5.9 version). He sends! We cheer.

(Photo: Ryan on MF (5.9).)

The cliff has gone into the shade and conditions could not be better. I am loving life.

Interstice, like Mother's Day Party, has perfect rock and two interesting, very different cruxes. It is as good as any other route at the wall but I never see anyone leading it. It is thought to be somewhat run out but in my opinion it has just enough gear, exactly where you need it.

(Photo: Andy at the first crux on Interstice (5.10b).)

I climb the route without a problem, standing up carefully against the blank slab at the first crux, and quickly cranking through the second crux bulge after placing bomber tiny pro in the left-facing corner. The final moments heading up and left to the Birdie Party bolts are a little bit heady, but are probably no harder than 5.8. Not a concern. Such a good pitch, from start to finish.

Andy follows cleanly but remarks that it might be a challenging lead.

10. Still Crazy After All These Years (5.10a), 4:45 p.m.

We've reached our last route. I climb it joyfully, without a care in the world. I don't feel tired at all. There is one 5.8 move above the second horizontal where the pro (green Alien) is suspect. If you fall here and the piece blows, you will hit the ground. So it is important to climb with caution in the early going. Otherwise the gear on the route is great.

(Photo: I'm inspecting the holds at the start of Still Crazy After All These Years (5.10a). Photo by Andy.)

The last time I led this route I hesitated at the crux crimps but this time I dance right past them. It doesn't even feel like a crux. The route as a whole is quite nice, with consistent 5.8/5.9-ish face climbing similar to Higher Stannard (5.9-) and Birdie Party (P1 5.8+). Some of the holds are a little bit sandy. It is well worth doing.

(Photo: Andy bringing it home on our last route, Still Crazy After All These Years (5.10a).)

Andy likes the route too, says it feels pretty casual.

And that's it! We are done. We call it a wrap at 5:30 p.m.

*             *              *

In retrospect, I feel reasonably good about how the day went. I started off pretty shaky, and failed on some routes I should have sent. I might have done better if I had saved the hardest routes for later in the day, when they would have been in the shade. Heat and direct sunlight make such a huge difference. But if I'd saved the hardest climbs for later, I might not have been so relaxed on the easier tens, so who knows whether things would have actually gone any more smoothly.

On the positive side, I eventually settled down and sent seven 5.10's in one day-- six of them in a row, one after another. I've never done anything like that before. And I have to try to keep in mind that the whole idea of doing something like this is a sign of my improvement as a climber. The notion of doing this challenge would have seemed completely insane to me just a short time ago. Two years ago I thought I would never have the guts to try to lead Coex. Just last summer I felt the same way about Graveyard Shift and Tough Shift. So much has happened over the last year or so. I feel like a totally different person.

I was surprised at how strong I still felt at the end of the day. Andy felt fine too. As we walked out we started talking about trying to do twenty tens in a day, with each of us leading ten of them. I think the chief obstacle would not be endurance, but time. We would need a relatively long day and we'd have to make a concerted effort to go faster than we did at the Mac Wall.

I think it is possible for us. I do think it would be far less casual than our Mac Wall day, and might become something of a deathmarch by the end.

In other words: it sounds fun!

I am grateful to Andy for supporting me in this little project and sacrificing his day for my goals. I look forward to belaying him all day on a siege of twelve 5.12's or something. It could happen. We'll have to wait and see.

Gobbling Up the Remains of the Season: Carbs and Caffeine (5.11a) & More!

(Photo: I'm heading into the crux on Graveyard Shift (5.10d/5.11a) once again.)

After hosting the big family meal on Thanksgiving day, I was ready to collapse into a food coma. What with all of the cooking, baking and eating that came with the holiday, I felt ready for some rest and relaxation on Friday.

But duty called.

Alec asked me to go climbing. It was going to be quite nice in the Gunks, with a high approaching sixty degrees.

How could I refuse?

At this time of year, I tend to dial it back. Every November, as the days get shorter and cooler, my ambitions fade. I start cruising up old favorites instead of pushing my limits.

But 2015 has been such a great year for me. I don't want it to end. As November came to a close I couldn't bear to waste any remaining climbing days that came my way. I still had many projects I was eager to hit.

While I've been making some progress, Alec has really been on a roll in the Gunks. When I've run into him at the crag he has looked super solid to me. I knew he was more than able to handle anything I could come up with.

First on my list was Graveyard Shift (5.10d). I had failed to get the redpoint on my last attempt. I should have made it, but I messed up above the crux roof and stuck my right toe out too far, causing a fall at the final hard move! It was a silly mistake and I regretted it deeply in the days that followed. I knew that if I'd executed my beta properly I would have sent this climb.

I had to go back again. I told Alec that when we got to the Gunks on Friday, I wanted to march right up to Graveyard Shift and knock it off.

So that's what we did.

(Photo: Alec heading into the scary bulge on Graveyard Shift back in July, with his wife Liz-- also a strong climber-- handling the belay.)

Heading up, I got through the initial scary bulge in no time and danced up the face to the good hold beneath the overhang. I tried to place my crux gear quickly and then I briefly reviewed my strategy before firing it off. It was an instant success. The sequence went down easily and before I knew it Graveyard Shift was over.

It was 9:00 a.m. and my send of the year was in the bag.

Despite my numerous fumbling attempts at this route, I think Graveyard really isn't that hard. It is cryptic if you don't know where the holds are. So it's a tough on-sight. But now that I know what to do I think I really should send it every time going forward. This is in contrast to a route like Coexistence (5.10d), which I could easily fail to send tomorrow. Even if I do everything right, I might not make it.

Once we were done with Graveyard Shift, Alec and I moved just a little ways down the wall so that he could lead MF Direct (5.10a R). I was psyched to follow him up it because I wanted to check out the gear in preparation for a lead of my own.

(Photo: Alec placing gear next to the pin below the crux of MF Direct (5.10a).)

Alec made quick work of it and then decided to keep going, tackling the Birdie Party roof (5.10b) too. When I followed, I looked around to see if I could make the pro on MF Direct a little more PG than R. I managed to find a tiny vertical crack just over the roof in which I could seat a purple C3. It might hold in a fall, but I'm not sure it would be worth hanging in there to place it.

(Photo: Alec at the Birdie Party (5.10b) roof.)

I liked the Birdie Party roof. I'd never done it before. It requires a big move over the hang and then you aren't quite out of the woods once you stand up. There are a few more thin moves in steep territory before it is really over.

If you combine MF Direct with the Birdie Party roof, it makes for a great single pitch-- one of the best 5.10 pitches around, I'd say. You need a 70-meter rope to lower from the fixed anchor.

Now it was my turn to pick a route and there was something I knew we just had to do.

We needed to try Carbs and Caffeine (5.11a).

I've been talking about this route all year, and with the final days of the season fading away I couldn't think of any excuse not to finally get on it. Alec had never done it-- not even the first pitch-- and he generously gave me permission to lead the crux second pitch.

(Photo: Alec setting off on the 5.8/5.9 first pitch of Carbs and Caffeine, with the insane roofs of pitch two looming above.)

Alec knocked off the first part of the route without any problems. It is a really nice face climb, with a good technical crux protected by small nuts.

Standing at the bolted anchor atop the first pitch, I couldn't see where the route went. I knew there were two bolts up there in the sea of roofs, but I couldn't spot them.

I would have to get going and see how it went.

I set myself up for a hang-fest by moving very slowly and deliberately right from the start. I found out that the crux comes after you've already weaved your way up and left through several overhangs. It went roof, roof, roof... oh here's the first bolt, how nice! And by now I was already fatigued, hanging in there, and I was faced with a very cruxy, beta-intensive sequence to get up to and past the next bolt.

(Photo: Alec following pitch two of Carbs and Caffeine (5.11a).)

I had a tough time with the crux and after a few game attempts I had to hang. I kept trying to clip the second bolt from below, which was a tremendous waste of energy. Once I got the second bolt clipped (after several tries) I worked out a difficult but doable way to get through the move and I could finally get on with the rest of the climb.

The upper crux was still to come. Once I got beneath it, I was very intimidated. There is a no-feet traverse out from under a huge ceiling. Again you have to do a few roof moves just to get to the place where you start the crux. I wanted perfect pro for this sequence and I confess I took another hang at the optional belay point in order to fiddle with the gear and get my head together. I figured the send was already blown anyway.

(Photo: Alec getting into the intimidating final traverse on Carbs.)

Once I committed to heaving myself up into the space below the huge roof I was able to reach out and place a good piece further out to protect the traverse, and then I made it through the desperate moves to the fixed anchor. The hands were surprisingly good. It's really just about getting your toes on something, anything, as you move out from under the overhang.

(Photo: Alec finishing it up.)

Because we had my 70 meter rope, I could lower to the ground from the fixed anchor and watch Alec work through the entire pitch. He sent it easily. I wanted to watch him do the crux but I looked down for just a second and missed it! That's how easy it was for him.

I think Carbs is safe and it is one of the very best climbs I've ever done. It just goes and goes. The atmosphere of endless overhangs is pretty special and unique to the Gunks. It is one of those routes which you could say epitomizes what the Gunks is all about. 

I could have climbed it better, obviously. But even if I'd been perfect and confident I don't think I would have sent this thing on the first try. It's so continuous and the crux comes after so many roofs.  

I will go back for a real send attempt. This one worked out to be more of an exploratory mission. 

If you plan to hop on Carbs and Caffeine, I would advise you to extend all of your early pieces, up to and including the two bolts. There is an edge below the first bolt which could damage your rope if the rope is pulled tightly against the rock. With the pieces extended, I thought this wasn't an issue.

After we were done with Carbs I was feeling pretty worked. But Alec was still full of energy and he proposed we try a route called Three Vultures Direct (5.10c). This variation route starts up the second pitch of Three Vultures (5.9) but then busts straight over a roof instead of traversing to the right. The Direct eventually goes up and left to join Amber Waves of Pain (5.10a) at its final roof problem. This route is described in the Trapps App but it isn't in Dick's guidebook.

After I led the first pitch of Face to Face to get us to the GT Ledge, Alec sent Three Vultures Direct but it didn't exactly look easy. The roof seemed like big pull and then Alec found another tough, technical sequence up the face before he ultimately joined Amber Waves. He found good gear along the way.

(Photo: A tough shot of a tough roof. Through the branches you can see Alec at the crux roof on Three Vultures Direct (5.10c).)

When I got up there I found out that I was really wasted. The roof was very difficult for me. I made it over but I was grateful I was on top rope. It is a good challenge, and the face climbing afterwards is also fun. I thought this variation was quite worthwhile, though it isn't as spectacular as its neighbor Face to Face.

We still had a little time before it got dark and I decided to sleepwalk up Silhouette (5.7+), an old favorite, to finish the day. I was wiped out. We'd done some hard pitches.

After this day with Alec the season seemed all but over in my mind. As I organized my gear at home, I noticed some of my slings were starting to look a bit beaten up. I calculated the age of all of my stuff and I realized I was long overdue for some gear maintenance. So I decided to get it all over with at once. I packed up all my cams and sent them off to be reslung. And I pitched my slings, bought a new backpack, and washed my rope.

Of course I did all this before I checked the forecast! It seems that this will be the season that never ends.

Luckily most of my climbing friends have their own gear. And in a few weeks when I have all my stuff back I'll really be ready to hit it in 2016.

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.

Gunks Routes: MF (5.9)

(Photo: Approaching crux # 1 of MF (5.9) in the fog. Is there a climber up there?)

The weather gods have been joking around with me.

Thanksgiving weekend was stunning. We had record highs, in the sixties and seventies, and abundant sunshine. I had a full agenda of stuff going on. This was joyous, important, family stuff. Stuff that I wouldn't dream of missing, it goes without saying.

So there was no way I could go climbing over this beautiful weekend. But I had to take advantage of the warm-weather window somehow. It was killing me to let it just roll by; this could be our last good climbing weather until next Spring. Surely, I thought, there must be something I could do?

I decided to take a vacation day on Tuesday to go to the Gunks.

The only problem was that it was expected to rain. After reviewing the forecast, I decided to go for it anyway. It was going to be warm, and the rain wasn't supposed to come until the late afternoon. A pretty full day was possible, even likely, I told myself. And the weather report for the following days called for deteriorating conditions: more rain and then colder temperatures. My obsessed mind saw Tuesday as my final chance of the year.

Parker agreed to meet me. We'd climbed together once before, in early summer. Back then we were both leading similar climbs but since that time Parker had been climbing a lot, and it sounded like he'd been ripping it up. I was eager to see what he could do. I told him I wanted to climb MF, one of my big goals for 2011. He wanted to do Amber Waves of Pain (5.10a), which I was really excited about climbing (as a second) as well.

When I got up on Tuesday morning it was pretty gloomy out. During the drive up from the city I grew concerned about how foggy it was. The air felt damp. I worried that the cliffs would be coated in a slick, wet mist. It was an unpleasant experience I'd had before.

Then at the Sloatsburg rest stop, as I stood there pumping gas, I detected rain. Not just wet fog, but actual rain.

I paused to search the sky. Were these really drops of rain, falling from the heavens to the earth?

Yes, it was definitely raining.

It grew heavier as I stood there.

This wasn't supposed to happen! Not until later.

I was furious. I started yelling into the air. "Stop it! Stop raining!"

I'm sure I resembled a crazy person.

I got back in my car and started driving faster than before. I'm not sure why-- was I trying to outrun the rain? I kept hoping it wouldn't be like this in New Paltz.

The rain stopped, thankfully, before I got to Exit 18. I couldn't tell whether the cliffs had seen any precipitation. Actually, I couldn't tell whether the cliffs were even there. They were invisible, hidden by dense fog. This was not a good sign.

As I drove to the stairmaster parking lot I saw that the roads were wet. Also not a good sign. If the roads were wet, the rock was likely wet too.

Upon his arrival at the empty parking lot, Parker remarked that we seemed to be the only idiots intent on climbing. But since we were already at the cliffs, we decided we might as well go see if the rock was, by some miracle, dry.

We went straight up to the Mac Wall to look at MF. Described by Dick Williams as "THE standard for 5.9 in the Gunks," MF has a reputation as a tough climb. (As you might have guessed, the letters in the name stand for "Mother F**ker.") The first pitch has two cruxes, the first coming at an awkward, scary move around a corner, and the second involving some thin moves over a bulge. Pitch two has just one crux: a big roof.

I've been working up to MF all year-- all my climbing life, really. I knew on Tuesday as I stood before the route that this could be my last chance to climb it before the end of the season. But I was scared to try it if the rock was damp. Hell, I was scared to try it, period. Even in perfect conditions. Maybe in this iffy weather it was beyond scary. Maybe it was a stupid idea.

But Parker touched the rock and said he thought we were okay. It seemed dry to him. "Feel it," he said. "There's plenty of friction!"

I wanted this climb. Badly. I put my hand on the rock, and it appeared Parker was right. Even though we were surrounded by mist, the rock felt fine. I decided to do the climb. I could always bail if it started really raining. It's only gear, I figured. Who cares if I leave a piece or two behind? Don't I have a catchphrase that covers this situation?

Yes I do: Carpe Diem, bitches.

I tied in and headed upward.

The early going on pitch one is tricky. There is a steep bit right off the ground, and you have to make a few moves before you get any pro in. Maybe this part of the climb just seemed hard to me because I was a bundle of nerves. The conditions were making me jittery. I stepped off the route, back to the ground, just after I started because the fog suddenly turned to rain. But then in a minute it turned back to fog again.

I went back at it, placing two pieces at the first opportunity.

After the initial moves the pitch jogs left, then back right to the big overhang. I moved slowly, checking each foothold, fearful I'd pop off. I placed a ton of pro. As I approached crux one, it seemed much more intimidating and difficult than it did from the ground. It is steep there. It is pumpy to hold on. You can see the horn thingy that you need to grab as well as the foothold that will bring you around the corner, but it seems kind of improbable that this move will work out well.

On the bright side, the pro is great. There's a pin just where you want it and another piece can be put there to back it up. The fall is clean. The holds are good. You can stand there for a good long while, shaking out each hand in turn as you reflect on the life you've lived, and the leap you're about to take.

I hemmed and hawed there a long time, but in the end I found no real trick to the move. You just have to commit. Grab the horn, get your right foot on that hold, and go. And then it's about balance. Shift slowly to the right foot and keep inching to the right. The holds are further around the corner than you want them to be, but they exist, trust me!

(Photo: Having placed pro, I'm getting ready to move through the bulging crux # 2 on pitch one of MF (5.9).)

I spent even longer hemming and hawing over the second crux. I didn't want to blow it. My flash of MF was within reach, yet still so far away. Luckily there's a good stance below the bulge from which you can think over the moves as much as you like. Again the pro is good. There is a horizontal right below the bulge (quite slimy on Tuesday, but it took a cam), and an irregular pod/handhold up in the bulge in which I managed to seat a solid green Alien. This last placement made me feel really good. I clipped the piece direct and knew if I fell I wouldn't go far.

When I finally went for it the moves were not bad. The holds were small but positive, and before I knew it I had the jugs.

As I hit the chains I was thrilled. It had been a slow lead, a methodical lead, but it had been a successful onsight lead of MF. I was no longer breaking into 5.9. I felt solid in the grade. I couldn't ask for anything more.

Parker started following me up pitch one. I heard him say something about a nut.

"Did I place a crummy nut?" I asked.

"No!" he replied. "I said YOU'RE nuts! I can't believe you did this pitch. The rock feels so slimy!"

So much for Mr. "Go For It, There's Plenty of Friction!"

I tried to remind Parker that his enthusiasm is what got me to climb the route in the first place, but he wasn't accepting the blame. For some reason, he was convinced that I was the crazy one.

I have to say it didn't feel so slimy to me. By the time the pitch was over I'd forgotten all about the weather. I thought the rock was okay, and I really wanted to continue and do pitch two. Parker said if we kept going I'd be leading. He'd led the pitch before and he had no ambition to lead any longer, given the conditions.

(Photo: Examining the roof on pitch two of MF (5.9).)

Pitch two begins with easy moves directly to the right from the bolted anchor, around a small corner. Then it's straight up to the roof. Just beneath the roof is a pin. After clipping the pin I spent a lot of time experimenting and feeling around, trying to find some holds, any holds, that I could use to get up to the obvious horizontal that was out of reach a few feet above the roof.

It's tricky because you can't really see what's just over the roof, and there are no footholds right under the pin. So you paw around over your head, finding nothing. Then you paw around to your left, finding nothing. Then you retreat to the stance to the right of the pin, shake out, and get ready to do it all over again.

I found some really poor crimps around the pin, and kept trying to contrive a way to use them to reach the horizontal over the roof. But it wasn't working out.

After a while I looked at Parker, who was standing just a few feet to my left. I said "I'm about to have you take so I can hang on this stupid pin."

"Dude, your feet are, like, on a ledge," he replied.

"Yeah, but I'm getting frustrated."

I was tired of going back and forth. I wanted to rest and look it over. But just in time I finally found the crucial hold. I'm not going to spoil the details. It makes reaching the horizontal a breeze! And it's hiding right there, in front of your face.

As soon as I had that hold, I stepped right up to the horizontal and clipped the second pin. Then I placed a cam to back it up, even though I was already feeling the pump clock ticking away. Above me I could see the creaky little flake mentioned by Dick in his guidebook. It was the next hold. The path was obvious. It was time to go. A couple quick, pumpy moves and I was through the crux, standing at the big horizontal that heads left. Pitch two was basically in the bag.

Although I really enjoyed the crux, I didn't think the rest of the pitch was nearly as nice. The difficulty level decreases greatly and there's some questionable rock. After traversing left, the pitch follows an obvious corner to the GT Ledge, but it seems numerous other paths can be taken to the finish. It all goes through similar, moderate territory.

(Photo: Parker coming up the final bits of pitch two of MF (5.9).)

Parker reached me on the GT Ledge just as a real storm started to roll in. We could see the rain falling over New Paltz as we set up to rappel and by the time we got to the ground it had reached the cliff. Our climbing day was over after just two pitches.

Ah, but what a pair of pitches.

I realize this particular trip to the Gunks was a waste of a vacation day. I know I've been clinging to summer, to the climbing season. It's been good and I don't want it to end. I probably should have gotten out of bed on Tuesday, looked out the window, and called it off. That would have been the sensible thing to do.

But then I would have missed MF.

And MF I will cherish. It's so nice to have my last climbs of the season confirm that I've made progress. Maybe I'll still be able to squeeze one more milestone into the year. And maybe not. It doesn't matter. It's been a great year either way.