Gunks Routes: Star Action (5.10b), Still Crazy After All These Years (5.10a/b) & Doubleissima (5.10b)

(Photo: Headed for the roof of Son of Easy O (5.8).)

Another September weekend in the Gunks.

Temperatures have been falling and autumn is in the air. I think sending season may be soon upon us.

I met up with Adrian this past Sunday in the Trapps. As I drove up I decided I had one goal: I needed to get the redpoint on Directississima aka Doubleissima (5.10b). Just last week I'd come close, but had taken a brief hang at the hardest move. I knew if I approached it smartly I could get the send this time.

Apart from that one climb I had no ambitions.

We walked in and found the ever-popular Son of Easy O (5.8) open so we did it. I took the lead and ran it to the top in one pitch. It is still one of the best 5.8's. The traditional first pitch has so many great face moves. The overhang on the second pitch is a fun, if short, challenge. I've never cut my feet loose and campused it like Ashima, but hey, every problem has multiple valid solutions.

When Adrian and I both reached the top we rapped down over City Lights and found that it had become very crowded. We started walking in the general direction of Doubleissima, looking for an open climb for Adrian to lead along the way.

But almost everything was occupied. We walked past the Drunkard's wall and into the Arch area, seeing nothing available that we wanted to try.

Just then, as I walked downhill past the start of Ribless, I lost my footing somehow. It is a little steep and loose right there next to the cliff. I guess I got careless, and I fell.

My little slip quickly turned into a cartwheeling header. I found myself flying. I tumbled over several loose stones and landed maybe ten feet lower then my starting point.

I couldn't believe my own clumsiness. Lying there in the dirt, I felt humiliated but okay. It had all gone by in a blur but I didn't think I'd caught an ankle.

I sat up and said "I think I'm all right."

Adrian pointed out that I was bleeding through my pants.

I pulled up my pant leg and saw a gash in my knee that was kind of deep. I had a couple of band aids in my bag but I didn't think they were going to help very much.

I inspected the knee and it did not seem that I'd broken it. But I could tell it was going to bruise and swell a bit. I must have knocked it pretty hard on the way down. It was tender and puffy. The good news was that I was able to weight the leg and walk.

"Do you want to see a doctor?" Adrian asked.

It sounded reasonable.

But if I did that, we were never going to get on Doubleissima!

Besides, Adrian had driven all the way down to the Gunks from Montreal to climb with me. It seemed rude to abandon him just because I got a little cut on my knee. I wouldn't be able to live with myself. I decided I had to be a man about it and keep climbing. It was the selfless, generous thing to do.

You might disagree. You might think that continuing to climb was a short-sighted, stupid thing to do. But if you are of that opinion then I assure you, respectfully, that you are mistaken.

I put a band aid over the cut and wrapped some climbing tape around the knee, hoping the tape would stay in place and keep the bleeding at bay.

We resumed looking for a fun climb to do.

Before we knew it we were at the Mac Wall. I've been there a lot this year. But there were many climbs I needed to do there. I still needed to get the redpoint on Try Again (5.10b). And I'd considered Star Action (5.10b) before, but it was wet when I examined it in the spring. Today it was dry and it was open.

(Photo: A climber named Jill going for it on Try Again (5.10b).)

With all the wandering and tripping and falling and bandaging, we'd wasted substantial time already. Adrian wasn't too keen on leading Star Action, with its 5.10b roof. But we needed to climb something, so I decided to lead it.

As I got on the wall my knee seemed okay. Just as I got going on the route our friends Maryana and Beau happened to arrive. They offered moral support as I worked my way up the climb. The early going was comparatively easy, but I found the line to be pretty indistinct and the gear was kind of fiddly.

Once I reached the crux roof I had no confusion about where to go and there was good pro in a bomber horizontal. From this horizontal below the roof I could see a jug hold, way up there out of reach. The guidebook suggests a dyno to attain the jug but I could see some intermediate crimps. Maybe there was no need for a dyno. The guidebook also says that the move AFTER the big reach to the jug is the "mental crux" of the route, as you step left to an obvious corner.

I had two solid cams in the horizontal. It was steep but I could hang out there, shaking out each hand in turn. I kept reaching up to test the crimps, and I did not like them. I couldn't get myself to trust them. Up and down, up and down. Eventually I got tired and took a hang.

Then Beau shouted up to me that I should look to my left for a rest stance. I looked over and saw that I could have taken a real rest at an obvious little shelf just one move to the left! Tunnel vision and a refusal to commit got the best of me again.

(Photo: A climber on MF Direct (5.10a).)

Meanwhile my makeshift bandage was falling apart. The cut in my knee was still open and bleeding. I was getting some red blotches on the rock. This lead was turning into a mess. I needed to get on with it.

After I rested I finally went for it, using the crimps and reaching the jug, no dyno required. I think I could repeat this move any time. It is similar to, but in my opinion easier than, the roof move on Precarious Perch (5.9+).

But the next move-- the "mental crux" step left into a lieback-- is a real challenge. You have to transition from hanging off the jug to a tenuous lieback with no footholds. Your feet are just pasted to the wall, and they are above your last gear. It is a scary move. After I got the jug I tried to make the transition but once again I couldn't commit to it and climbed back down a step, taking a deliberate whipper so I could rest and reset. The fall was clean but I sailed down a ways, below the first crux roof.

Having now failed once at each of the cruxes, I finally got through it. It was a relief. Star Action is a gutsy lead, much more so than its neighbor Try Again. The gear for the crux sequence isn't that far away and the fall is clean, but you are definitely looking at a nice whip if you blow either of the two crux moves, and if you come off at the lieback it could be a weird fall.

(Photo: Happy to be past both cruxes on Star Action (5.10b).)

I don't know how soon I'll be going back for the send on Star Action. I know I can do it but that move into the lieback isn't a sure thing. I could easily fall there, and I'm not sure I want to.

Adrian did well with the first crux but then flew off at the lieback. He needed a little more work at that move before he completed the pitch. Watching the way he spun off of the rock, I was even less eager to get back up there on lead.

After I got down I wrapped my knee up again. I still felt I could continue to climb but I was starting to resemble a wounded soldier, with my ripped pants and blood stains all over. Physically I was feeling it too. The knee was stiffening and the effort I'd put in on Star Action had me feeling whipped.

(Photo: Adrian at the roof on Star Action (5.10b).)

Beau and Maryana were just finishing Still Crazy After All These Years (5.10a/b), a squeezed-in climb to our left. I was intrigued by it. I'd never seen anyone do it. The line is not obvious from the ground and I'd always been deterred from trying it because I thought it was too close to climbers on the popular Something Interesting (5.7). But the way Beau did it, the climb was a totally independent line, moving to the right after an overhang and ending at the Higher Stannard (5.9-) bolts.

This was a route right up Adrian's alley, with thoughtful face moves rather than pumpy overhangs. After getting some specific protection beta from Beau, he decided to lead it.

(Photo: Adrian heading up Still Crazy After All These Years (5.10a/b). The climber above is on Something Interesting (5.7+).)

It was an impressive on-sight for Adrian. He seemed to get gear for all of the moves up the face and then, after hesitating for a moment and testing the possible holds, he cruised through the crux move smoothly.

When I followed the pitch I was even more impressed with Adrian's lead. The climb's style resembles Higher Stannard (a route I really enjoy), but Still Crazy is more difficult and the gear is less reliable. The protection comes at spaced horizontals that are often shallow and/or pebbly. I thought some of Adrian's gear was pretty iffy and not because of any failing on his part. The cracks just aren't that great for gear. And the climbing past the questionable gear is consistently thoughtful, in the 5.8-5.9 range at least.

The brief crux sequence is really nice, and the gear here is good, though it is at your feet when you do the move.

I was happy to get Still Crazy cleanly as the second, and though my injured right knee complained a bit at the high steps it seemed like I was still able to climb.

It was now or never.

I told Adrian I wanted to lead Doubleissima.

"Really?" he said. "Okay."

We trooped on down to the High E buttress to find a party slowly working their way up the climb. This was fine with me. I wanted a good long rest before I hit Doubleissima. I relaxed and tried to think through my plan, visualizing success.

(Photo: Between the two cruxes on Doubleissima (5.10b).)

When the party ahead of us cleared the cruxes, I headed up and I'm proud to say it went down perfectly. I fired through the steep bulge off the ledge without a problem. Moving to the right and up, I could feel the fatigue coming on, but I tried not to do anything sloppy as I approached the roof, and then I managed to shake out enough to power through the overhang. After that the angle eased and I was smiling all the way to the GT Ledge.

Score one for the good guys. I could limp home with my head held high. I'd sent a hard 5.10. And such a great climb.

(Photo: Adrian finishing up the crux pitch of Doubleissima (5.10b).)

Now I was satisfied, I didn't care what else we did. We rapped back down and looked for something fun for Adrian to lead.

We settled on the 5.8 first pitch of Erect Direction. We'd both done it before. It is a juggy good time.

(Photo: Adrian starting up Erect Direction (pitch one, 5.8).)

I ended our day by leading Moonlight (5.6) from the GT Ledge to the top. This is a high quality pitch, exciting and varied, with the exposed moves around the crux corner and then beautiful, slabby climbing up white rock to the top. It is nothing but fun, so long as you're prepared for the fact that the gear stinks until after the crux-- you might as well be soloing for much of the first half of the pitch.

(Photo: At the crux of pitch two of Moonlight (5.6).)

I'd been using my injured leg all day, keeping it loose, but after the two-hour car ride back to Brooklyn the leg was pretty stiff. The next morning I found it hard to walk without a limp. The swelling in the knee had increased, making it a challenge just to bend my leg. As I struggled to navigate the subway I wondered if the previous day's climbing had been nothing but a dream. Had we really climbed three 5.10's after I busted up my knee?

I was a little worried about the injury for a few days but it seems I'm on the mend now. The swelling is mostly gone and I am walking around pretty much normally again. I think I'll get back to climbing very soon, certainly in time for my trip to the Red River Gorge in October.

And the next time I go to the Gunks I might want to hop right back on Doubleissima. I think it is my new favorite climb. 

Gunks Routes: Moonlight (5.6), Yesterday and Today

Moonlight (5.6) was the location of my first and only climbing epic.

When I think back on that time (which wasn't really so long ago), it is hard to relate to the person I was then. So much has changed. Now I know my way around the Gunks. I know of many landmarks that can help me find just about any route with confidence. I can find the way down from the top almost anywhere. I try to think in advance about potential problems I might encounter along the way. I have some idea of how to deal with emergencies. It is difficult to imagine fumbling around as blindly as I did back then, taking an entire afternoon to do two pitches! Looking back now, I shudder at the memory of all of the mistakes I made.

But climbing by its nature generates these sorts of stories. Part of learning to climb is taking the risk that you will get in over your head. Book instruction will only take you so far. The systems require practice and familiarity before they can become automatic. There is no way to tell whether you are ready except by doing it.

Anyway, is it really so bad to get lost and generally make a mess of things? Isn't making a mess of things the essence of adventure? And adventure is the point, isn't it? So long as the adventure doesn't get anyone hurt...

This particular adventure happened in 2008. I'd been climbing for a couple of years, but had only recently taken on the responsibilities of leading. I was out with my partner Liz, who had a similar level of experience and was not yet leading trad. We'd been outside climbing together just once before. The Gunks was our home area but neither of us knew our way around the cliffs very well.

I had decided to push the grades a bit. I'd led several 5.5's and had quickly grown bored. I had then boldly embarked upon leading my way through the legendary 5.6's at the Gunks. I think by this point I had done three of them. They'd all seemed pretty easy.

I felt like I was on my way to greatness.

On this October afternoon, Liz and I were planning on doing the most impressive 5.6 in the Gunks: High Exposure. But as one might predict, we arrived at the base to find two climbers on the route and a party of three getting ready to go next. It was the usual High Exposure traffic jam. We sat there for a while eating a snack, watching the parties ahead of us make very little progress, and eventually decided it wasn't worth waiting any more.

I had read somewhere about another good nearby 5.6 called Moonlight. I suggested to Liz that we give that one a try.

We walked over to the base. The climb starts up an obvious left-facing corner, but because of our lack of familiarity with the cliff we were unsure about whether we were in the right place. Luckily for us, there was a nice man walking by who confirmed we'd found our desired climb.

Now, I'm sure there was nothing out of the ordinary about this man. But I remember him as a sort of wise-old-man-of-the-mountain kind of guy.

In reality he was probably dressed very much as I was, but in my memory he looks just like the famous photos of French alpinist Gaston Rebuffat, wearing a sweater and crusty, weathered boots and carrying a mountaineer's coil of rope over his shoulder.

This man must have pegged us for beginners immediately. He gave us some much-needed guidance.

He told us about the start of Moonlight, advising us that coming in from the slab on the left to the big corner was good climbing but hard to protect, and suggesting we could come to the corner from the right instead if we wanted an easier way.

He also asked us if we knew how we were going to get down after the climb. (Good question!) Of course we hadn't thought about it at all. Our previous climbs had all ended at fixed tree anchors or bolts. The man told us about a fixed cable with rappel rings at the top of the nearby route No Glow. This rappel station is not in the guidebook. You need double ropes to use it. Liz and I happened to be climbing with doubles so we could use this descent route.

The stranger also tried to help us prepare to find Moonlight's second pitch. The guidebook tells you to move forty feet to the right after you finish pitch one. Mr. Mountain Man told us to look up for an obvious ramp above the GT Ledge which dead-ends into a corner with a roof. He said if we could spot the ramp we'd know we were in the right place to begin pitch two.

Armed with all of this information I led pitch one without incident. I elected to start the route up the slab to the left of the big corner. The climbing looked reasonable and, even though the stranger was correct about the early moves being unprotected, I made it to the corner just fine and did the enjoyable first pitch to the GT Ledge without any problems that I can remember.

After I brought Liz up to the ledge I set about trying to find pitch two. And this is where our problems began.

For the life of me I couldn't find the ramp the man had told us about. Everywhere I looked I saw roofs above us, but I couldn't identify the corner of which he had spoken. I kept walking back and forth, looking up, but I had no idea where the second pitch of Moonlight was supposed to start. Finally I picked a spot that seemed to be about forty feet to the right of where we'd finished pitch one. There was chalk on the wall so I figured this must be the place. Naively and with optimism, I led onward.

Within a few moments of starting the pitch I realized I had made a mistake. I was maybe fifteen feet off the ledge and I'd placed a piece off below me to the right, but I couldn't see any more gear coming up. And although there were holds, they were very small, and the wall was steepening dramatically.

What was I doing here? Was this Moonlight or was it something else, something much harder? I began to get a very bad feeling.

Looking up, I could see a party of three above us to the right, on a traversing climb across a white billboard-like face. Their route looked spectacular. I decided to seek their assistance. I called up to them and asked them if they knew whether I was on Moonlight.

One of them was kind enough to call back. "No!" he said. "We are on CCK! Moonlight is around the corner to your left! You may be able to get to it from where you are, though...."

So it was confirmed: I was partway up the wrong pitch with no pro in sight. Not a good situation.

I had a decision to make. Should I try to traverse around the corner to the correct route, as the climbers above me suggested? Or should I climb down and start over from the ledge? Was climbing down even an option?? I had not thought to make sure I could reverse every move. I looked down and envisioned the downclimb. It didn't look so bad. I believed I could make it back to the ledge, and thankfully I did so without a problem. I later realized upon reading the guidebook that instead of Moonlight I had mistakenly started up a difficult, dangerous route called Crack'n Up (5.11d PG-R)!

Once I was back on the GT Ledge, I took a look around the corner to the left and instantly saw the ramp to the corner and roof that the Mountain Man had described to us. It now seemed so obvious. I don't know how I missed it the first time around.

And so I finally started up the correct second pitch of Moonlight. The climbing up the ramp went fine, but when the ramp dead-ended into the corner I was stopped in my tracks by the escape path to the left. It was scary. I had to move out the left side of the corner and reach blindly around onto the face of the cliff. I had never confronted a situation like this before.

And I couldn't find any decent pro. There was a super-rusty old pin driven downward into the rock off to the right, quite a distance away from the moves. I clipped the pin and looked around desperately for other options. I wormed a nut into a strange little pocket a few feet left of the piton but I knew this nut wasn't any good. I couldn't find any other placements. Nor could I improve the one I had.

I don't know how long I stood there fretting over the situation. I had uncertain moves ahead and really iffy protection that was too far away. The idea of bailing never entered my mind. I thought I had no choice but to carry on.

Eventually I decided this wasn't going to get any easier. I went for it.

I moved left, committing to the sequence. This was probably the first time that I really experienced commitment like this, in the climbing sense. I remember good handholds but smeary feet on a steep wall, and then a hopeful reach around the corner. I prayed I'd find holds over there, and of course I did. Then I pulled myself around to a stance on the face, shaking like a leaf. I had made the moves but it wasn't over. I still couldn't spot any pro. I tried to remain calm. The stance was solid. I stood there for a moment, taking in the air over there. Then I moved up and at last found some decent gear.

Whew! That was easily, without a doubt, the most exciting thing I'd ever done in my life.

I still had half the pitch to climb, but the rest of it was a blur. I had taken so long finding the correct route and contemplating the crux that the whole valley was becoming engulfed in shadow. I didn't know what time it was but I feared it would soon be dark. I wasn't sure we could find our way down if we got benighted. So I rushed through the rest of the pitch. I noticed that the climbing was good, up a nice crack, but I couldn't afford to dwell on it. I reached the top of the cliff and put Liz on belay in a hurry.

I hoped the drama was over on Moonlight but unfortunately we weren't out of the woods yet. Liz still had to climb the pitch. At first things were fine. I couldn't see her but as I pulled in rope I could tell things were moving along, until she reached that move around the corner. Then everything came to an abrupt halt. There was no movement for what seemed like a very long time.

Finally I heard her calling up to me for advice on how to get around the corner.

Then she moved-- and she fell.

There was silence as the ropes came tight. I yelled out to her to make sure she was unhurt. She called back that she was okay, thank goodness.

Once I knew she was unharmed my mind could turn to another worry. Could she get back on? It was all air under the crux. Was she dangling in the air with no means of getting back on the rock? Or might she be stuck below the route and unable to get back to where she needed to be?

What would I do? I was woefully unprepared for this possibility, but now it might be a reality. I tried to put a plan together in my mind. I could lower her back to the GT Ledge, then rap back to her from the nearest tree, leaving some slings behind. Then we'd just have to find the nearest rap station on the GT Ledge. It would likely be dark by the time we figured it all out but we'd be together and safe. No big deal, right?

I waited to see if she could get back on the route, hoping I wouldn't have to execute this plan B.

We were in luck. She got back on, made the moves and completed the pitch.

By the time Liz made it to the top the sun had set and light was rapidly draining from the sky. I sent her to go look for the fixed rap station above No Glow while I collected the ropes and gear. If we couldn't find the rappel station before dark we would be forced to make our own station, leaving gear behind. I did not relish the thought of picking a random point from which to rappel off the cliff in the dark. The other option, walking off, was perhaps even less attractive. It would take a long time. It was perhaps a three mile journey from the top of Moonlight to the walk-off and back again. And who knew what it would be like trying to stay on the cliff-top trail after dark?

Again we got lucky. Liz found the rap station in about thirty seconds. We did two double-rope raps to the ground, during which time I realized just how close we had come to being lost in the dark. By the time we reached the base it was so dark that I could no longer tell which of my ropes was blue and which was pink.

I had never been to the cliffs at night and I was surprised at just how dark it was, so close to civilization. Of course I had no headlamp or flashlight. Liz had a headlamp but the battery was almost dead. Even with the dim light of this headlamp it took us at least twenty minutes to negotiate the talus field back to the carriage road.

I walked away from Moonlight in a daze, both humbled and emboldened by the experience. There had been challenges, for sure, many of which I had never anticipated. But we'd come through them safely and kept our heads. And the climb had been thrilling, like nothing I'd ever felt before. I figured that if we absorbed the lessons of this hard day we could build on the experience and grow as climbers. I resolved to read the route lines in the guidebook a little more carefully in the future and to study lowering and hauling systems.

Of course the main lesson I really should have learned is that it is important to understand your limits, to know when you've got no business trying something, and when you should back off. This lesson I had to learn later, the hard way, by breaking my ankle in 2009 on Insuhlation (5.9).

Fast forward to the present, a beautiful Sunday in May, 2013.

David and I had enjoyed a good day, knocking off a bunch of fun climbs in the No Glow area. It was getting late and I proposed we warm down with something easy. Earlier in the afternoon I had watched from the top of Keep On Struttin' as a leader came around that corner on Moonlight and from above it looked like a lot of fun. I thought about the climb for the first time in a long time. I suggested to Dave that we do it and as he was feeling tired he suggested I lead both pitches.

Standing at the base, I wondered if climbing Moonlight again after all these years would spoil its magical aura. I knew that now it would be easy for me. The climbing would be straightforward and there would be no epics. The thing that made it most exciting five years ago-- my lack of experience-- would be absent this time around. But maybe the climbing would be good enough to offer some of the same excitement I felt in 2008.

I decided to come into pitch one from the left, as I did five years ago, just to see if I still felt like it was no big deal. The climbing begins with a few very easy slab moves, and you can place a piece a few feet above the ground. But then you step up and right to the corner and there isn't any way to protect the moves across. There are obvious holds for the hands and feet so a fall is unlikely but still I would imagine that if 5.6 is your lead limit these moves might feel kind of hairy. I was surprised at how awkward it felt to get established in the corner. Next time I might try coming in from the right.

Once I attained the big corner I found that the rest of pitch one of Moonlight is well-protected and fun. The climbing up the corner was pretty casual and felt very secure.

Starting up the ramp on pitch two, I found the protection here to be surprisingly sparse. But the climbing before the crux is much easier than 5.6. It is like a big diagonal staircase.

Soon enough I reached the spot that had filled me with such awe and terror back in 2008, at the corner beneath the roof. I had to search to find that crucial piton. It is further to the right than I remembered, really rather far from the move around onto the face. And boy is it rusty. This is one junky old pin.

After I clipped the pin I had to search again to find the odd little pocket that provides the other protection opportunity for the crux. It is several feet left of the pin and a little lower. This time around I got something good, a Tricam placement that I believe would hold in a fall. I am pretty sure it was the pink Tricam. This might be one of those rare situations in which a Tricam is the only thing that works.

So unlike in 2008, this time I felt like I could confront the crux with some decent gear, albeit gear that I wished were a bit closer to the action.

And this time around I found the moves far less mysterious. If you stay low, actually moving down from the piton and the Tricam pocket, you'll see a perfect sequence of little footholds right at the lip, going around the corner to the face of the cliff. The moves are not terribly steep, nor are they smeary or blind. The position and exposure are incredible, though.

I think I must have gone too high in 2008. Or maybe in my panic I just bungled the whole thing back then. My 2013 experience of Moonlight was so different from my memories of the route, but still I found it pretty darn thrilling for a 5.6.

And this time I was able to take time to enjoy the latter parts of the pitch, up the crack in beautiful white Arrow-like rock, which leads to a final corner and the top. Really good climbing. Dick gives Moonlight only one star in his guidebook but I think it is a candidate for three. It has awesome, varied climbing from the bottom of the cliff to the top, and one heck of an exciting crux.

Climbing Moonlight the first time around was one of my formative climbing experiences. I got lost, made mistakes, and got my first real taste of the adrenaline rush one can get from executing a challenging crux sequence at some distance from the protective gear. At the time I was chastened, somewhat, by what a fiasco the afternoon turned into, but I also felt vindicated by our eventual success.

Climbing Moonlight the second time brought into stark relief that I really should have felt much more chastened and much less vindicated! I didn't climb or protect the route terribly well in 2008, and I was poorly equipped to handle any of the near-emergencies we so narrowly avoided.

The real question, as I push myself on harder routes today, is whether I have any better sense of my limits now than I did then. I sure like to think so. I certainly make the effort not to get in too deep, and I am not afraid to back off. I climb with much more experienced people who I hope would let me know if I were doing something unreasonable or stupid. But one must remain ever vigilant against complacency in climbing. A creeping boldness, which I have seen in myself on occasion, could quickly morph into foolishness.

All we can do is try our best, right?

Gunks Routes: Silhouette (5.7+) & Moby Dick (5.8), plus Keep on Struttin' (5.9)

(Photo: David almost to the GT Ledge on Silhouette (5.7+).)

Last Sunday I met up with David to climb in the Gunks. The weather was gorgeous and I was feeling pretty good. I wanted to hit one of the 5.10's on my list, and for some reason I was focused on Feast of Fools.

I also wanted to do some other climbs in that same area. I hadn't done much in this little section of the cliff. Apart from Hans' Puss (5.7 and a great route all the way to the top), I had not done any of the climbs on the buttress that sits to the right of the Arrow wall. I was interested not just in Feast of Fools, but also the two hard 5.9+ routes on this buttress: Proctoscope and Proctor Silex. I was also intrigued by Silhouette (5.7+), a climb to which Dick Williams grants two stars in his guidebook but which he also warns is not for the beginning 5.7 leader. I was even interested in an obscure 5.8 on the far-right edge of the buttress called Man's Quest for Flight.

Silhouette seemed like a nice way to begin the day, in spite of its PG-R rating. It sounded like the part with thin pro was right off the starting ledge. I wasn't too worried about handling the 5.7 climbing, provided I could find the route and not feel lost. I figured I could always back off if I didn't like the look of things.

It is easy to spot the starting ledge/pedestal for Silhouette from the ground. It is about 40 feet off the deck and the usual way to get there is to scramble in from the right, passing the start of Andrew and actually beginning the climb a fair distance off the ground. When we arrived, however, there was a party on Andrew. To avoid getting in their way we elected to climb directly up to the pedestal from the bottom, starting just slightly to its right. This climbing is easier than 5.7 and the pro is fine. Soon enough I found myself on the little ledge atop the pedestal contemplating the PG/R section of the climb.

There are a number of placement opportunities right at the top of the pedestal. I put a good cam in one of these slots and then began the real business of the pitch. The line isn't completely obvious but there are good holds-- just follow the path of least resistance, trending left off the little shelf at first, and then back right. After a few moves I found some gear and a piton, and shortly after this, as I placed another piece, I realized I must have cleared the supposed PG/R section. I guess that until you get some gear, you might hit the little ledge at the start if you fall. So I don't argue with the protection rating. But still, I don't think this climb is poorly protected by Gunks standards. There are many many more poorly protected PG climbs at the Gunks, see for example Moonlight (which we climbed later the same day). I thought the gear on Silhouette was fine.

And the climbing is great. The route wanders up the face to a roof and then you work your way to the edge of the roof on the right (where there is another pin) and pull over. The climbing up to this point is very nice but then the real fun begins, as the route follows a vertical crack system all the rest of the way to the GT Ledge. This is a good hand/fist crack. You could jam the whole thing (which I should have made myself do, for practice), but you don't need to as there are other holds. You can throw in a jam whenever you like, though, and in this section above the little roof pro is always available. The hardest moves on Silhouette are in this section, and it is G-rated all the way.

The way we did Silhouette, in one pitch to the GT Ledge and starting from the ground, it is a rope-stretcher. I was almost at the very end of Dave's 60 meter ropes by the time I made it to the GT Ledge. There was enough rope left for me to set up the belay on the ledge, but not much more.

Silhouette is a great route. It has interesting movement, good rock, and varied situations. Keep your head together for the first few moves and you'll be fine.

(Photo: Dave heading up Andrew (5.4) off the GT Ledge, on the way to the obvious V-notch of Moby Dick (5.8).)

Once we made it to the GT Ledge Dave decided to lead Moby Dick (5.8), a variation that starts up Andrew (5.4) but then veers left to an obvious V-notch when Andrew traverses right. There is another variation called Android (5.8) which starts further to the right and then crosses Andrew to arrive at Moby Dick's V-notch. It doesn't seem that either Android or Moby Dick is very popular, despite the fact that you can see Moby Dick's notch from the ground and it just begs to be climbed. I had never done it so I was happy to follow Dave up Moby Dick.

(Photo: In the V-notch of Moby Dick (5.8), placing pro.)

Dave made pretty quick work of it. It looked like an interesting traverse left and then a few good moves through the notch.

When I got up there I found it highly worthwhile. The move left to get under the notch is airy and then getting through the crux takes technique. The obvious comparison is V-3, a very popular 5.7 climb with a fun V-notch. Moby Dick's notch is harder and a bit longer. On V-3, as soon as you get your back into the notch you're basically done. Moby Dick, by contrast, is more of a stem problem with a few moves in succession. Good climbing and unusual, with good pro.

The only negative to Moby Dick is that it takes fifty feet of so-so 5.4 climbing to get to the good stuff. I suppose this is where the 5.8 Android start comes in to save the day. I'll have to try that some time. The guidebook description is confusing, but I bet when you get up there it all makes sense.

After we got back down to the ground I went to look at Feast of Fools but it was a nightmare over there. A large party had a top rope on Feast and another group was laying siege to Supper's Ready (5.12). It was all to be expected on a beautiful Sunday, but I was still disappointed. I consoled myself by knocking off a couple of 5.9's that I've been wanting to lead for a while: No Glow and Keep on Struttin'.

I was particularly happy about Keep on Struttin', a 5.9 that in my opinion has at least two little sections of 5.10 on it. I linked pitches two and three together into one lead. This combined pitch has to be one of the very best pitches in the Gunks. Both of the roof sections are solid 5.9 challenges but to me the cruxes come, first, at the thin moves below the first roof right off the GT Ledge, and second, at another face move off of a poor intermediate crimp right after you clip the bolt. Then after you make this hard move up to the good holds you have to move left through the pumpy roof. Here the main challenge is to place pro without flaming out. I think my solution is a good one. If you lean left from the stance above the bolt, placing a good cam as far to the left as you can reach, you can make the next few moves to the awesome horn without placing anything else. Then, with the horn in your grip, you can place one more piece and then gun it up over the overhang.

After the second roof, as you enter the traditional pitch three of Keep on Struttin', the character of the route changes completely, to a beautiful technical corner plus a few more interesting reaches around obstacles, all on that great white Arrow rock that you find on many of the upper pitches in this part of the Trapps. What a fantastic line!

After leading No Glow and Keep on Struttin' (and, I admit, flailing for a while trying to follow Dave up the bouldery start of Three Vultures (5.9)), I was feeling hot and tired, and my fingertips were sore. I decided to forget about 5.10 for the day and cool us down with Moonlight (5.6), which I hadn't done in nearly five years. It was a great finish to the day, but it merits its own post. Watch this space for my exciting account of Moonlight, yesterday and today!

The Best 5.6 Climbing in the Gunks

(Photo: climber reaching the optional hanging belay point at the end of pitch two of Madame Grunnebaum's Wulst)

You don't see too many blog posts about 5.6 climbs.

What kind of climbing blogger admits to being excited about 5.6?

Well, 5.6 is the first GREAT grade at the Gunks. There are many 5.6 climbs to get excited about. I would argue that 5.6 is one of the premier grades at the Gunks. There are more world-class Gunks 5.6's than 5.7's. And although 5.8 is also a great grade at the Gunks you could easily make the case that 5.6 is even better.

So here are some of my favorites, and these are not just climbs that top out at 5.6, but also a few 5.6 pitches that you'll find on some harder climbs. I am not writing guidebook entries here, so I do not intend to help you find the climbs or describe every single detail. Rather, I hope to explain to you why you should like them as much as I do.

THE BIG THREE

Any discussion of 5.6 at the Gunks has to contend with the three consensus bests. People travel long distances to the Gunks just to tackle these classics. They are so well-known, I probably don't even have to name them. They are (without further ado): High Exposure, Shockley's Ceiling, and Madame Grunnebaum's Wulst (popularly known as Madame G's). I'm not about to tell you that these beloved classics stink. But I do have some opinions about them that may buck the conventional wisdom just a bit.

High Exposure

High E is extremely popular. Every time I am nearby I find it occupied. I frequently see newcomers fumbling about trying to locate the start of the climb, clearly on a mission that depends wholly on climbing this one route. A couple of weeks ago, when we had a brief spell of perfect June weather, I took a day off from work and visited the Gunks on a weekday. My partner and I had our pick of routes. Very few climbers were out and no one was waiting for anything. But High E? When we walked by it had two parties at the base lined up to climb it.

In order to climb High E you have to be prepared to wait for it. Is it worth waiting for?

I would say it is, but I also think it can't possibly live up to the hype. It is overrated. The first 5.4 pitch from the ground to the GT ledge is perfectly pleasant but totally unremarkable. The second pitch has the big move out onto the face, which is not physically challenging. There is a great vertical crack for a sidepull and bombproof gear; you just have to lean out (this is the mental crux) so you can look up and locate the jugs above. This mental crux is the moment that makes the climb's reputation, and it is very good. The rest of the pitch consists of about 40 feet of moderately overhanging jug pulling. It is a nice pitch, and it is in my opinion a great early 5.6 lead despite the "+" in the official rating, since the juggy climbing resembles gym climbing, and the pro is abundant. There's a good horizontal for a cam wherever you want one. But it isn't my choice for best 5.6 in the Gunks.

Shockley's Ceiling

In contrast, Shockley's does live up to the hype. At least the third crux pitch does. The first two pitches are easy throwaways. But the last pitch, which ascends through the improbable ceiling, then moves up a left facing corner to another crux at a small overhang, is worth all the accolades. This is another 5.6 that, despite appearances, is a great climb for newish 5.6 leaders, since there are three pins right below the crux crack, and you can put a perfect #2 Camalot into that crack and feel completely secure that if you blow the ceiling you won't be falling far. Once you're past the ceiling, you can bask in the glow of your accomplishment while you cruise up to the second crux, and then you have to focus again (think layback) to finish it off. This final pitch alone makes Shockley's Ceiling a worthwhile adventure but you can make it even better. If you do Strictly From Nowhere (5.7) up to the chains for your first pitch, then diagonal up right for an easy, short second pitch to the belay below the ceiling, and then finish on Shockley's, you've done one of the very best moderate climbs at the Gunks, regardless of grade.

Madame G's

Madame G's is, in my opinion, the best overall 5.6 at the Gunks. The first pitch is easy (5.4) and short; it really isn't the attraction, and if you're up to leading 5.8, the first pitch of Columbia just to the left is a wonderful way to get up to the ledge where the real business of Madame G's starts. Once the business starts, you'll find you're in for a real treat. Pitches two and three are both relentlessly steep, with great holds. I like to combine these two pitches and ignore the hanging belay in the middle, but beware of drag on this wandering route. The pumpiness increases as you get towards the top and you do not want to have to struggle to pull up your rope as you get close to the anchors. So long as you watch the drag, this route is a joy the whole way; I call it the best because it offers such consistent, high-quality steep climbing. This kind of juggy fun is what the Gunks is all about.

THE OTHER BESTS

Maria

Beyond the three "bests" are many other highly rated 5.6 routes, and some that should be more highly rated than they are. Maria is a route that gets three stars in Dick Williams' latest guidebook, but I think the initial traverse pitch is underrated, and the third pitch is often ignored by climbers unaware of its true location or even of its existence. (The most recent guidebook to the Gunks places this third pitch in the wrong location, on a "mud slope" to the left of the real route.) If you do the whole route I think Maria rivals Madame G's for the title of best overall 5.6. It certainly outshines Madame G's in its variety.

The first pitch climbs the best part of Frog's Head (5.6-), going up a thin vertical crack that takes nuts like a dream. Pull the crux move past a bulge (great fun), then take the no-worries traverse to the right with great gear to the corner. Pitch two heads straight up the corner to the GT ledge. This pitch is rated 5.6+ and it is also consistent fun. There is no cruxy moment, but you may at times have to think a little and use opposition to move upward. Finally, from the top of pitch two, move right until you are below a right-facing corner capped by a roof about 20 feet up. This roof problem, also rated 5.6+, is a wonderful sandbag. I don't think this is a pitch for the new 5.6 leader; it is short but not easy. There is a good crack for gear in the roof but it is thin and in my experience makes the small cams placed there hard to evaluate. You also move left out the roof and a fall might be a little ugly even if the gear is good. There is no denying, however, that the climbing here is excellent.

Put it all together and you get crack, bulge, traverse, corner, and roof climbing, all in one route, and all at 5.6. Pretty amazing.

Baby

Baby is another of my favorite 5.6's. it gets two stars from Williams but I would argue for three. It has two excellent pitches, the first with a short off-width that seems to freak people out, and the second ascending a nice corner to a cool 5.6 roof. With regard to the off-width: I don't intend to help you climb it. There are several different ways to solve it. But I will give you one bit of advice. Bring a big cam. A purple # 5 Camalot is good; I know this from experience. A green # 6 would probably be even better. With a big cam you can protect the off-width a few crucial feet higher than you could with a blue # 3. And then you'll be set.

Moonlight

Moonlight gets only one star from Williams. I would argue for at least two. It is another great climb, with a mental crux that in my opinion requires a much bigger gut check than the move on High E. Pitch one is a pleasant, long climb up a prominent corner to the GT Ledge. Pitch two climbs an easy ramp-like feature until you find yourself in a corner with a roof over your head. To escape from the corner, you must commit to the overhanging left wall, on tiny feet, and pull yourself around to the left, all the while hoping you'll find some holds over there once you escape the roof around the outside corner and onto the main wall. Oh, and you have to make this move with just a piton for pro. When I did it, I also managed to work a shallow nut into a seam, but I wasn't fooling myself; the nut was junk.

Once you commit to heading around the corner and you get a good stance, the pitch isn't over. There's still good climbing up a crack to the finish. A very exciting pitch for the grade.

GREAT 5.6 PITCHES IN HARDER CLIMBS

Bloody Mary

This route has a great face-climbing first pitch that used to be rated 5.6. (Williams now rates it 5.7.) But the second pitch is still considered 5.6 and there is no other 5.6 like it. It involves climbing up to the left end of an overhang and traversing about 10 feet in a VERY overhanging position to the right, until it is possible to head upward on good holds. Then it's an easy romp to the GT Ledge. This pitch is one of the few that is easier for short people. It is strenuous, but the holds and pro are great. Skip pitch 3, it stinks.

Bold-ville

I would guess that most people do the excellent 5.8 first pitch of Bold-ville and then set up the chain anchor above all the harder Seasons climbs, skipping the fun second pitch of Bold-ville. This is a shame. Not unlike Bloody Mary, the 5.6 second pitch of Bold-ville involves a steep hand traverse around a corner, this time in the opposite direction, to the left. The horizontal crack/shelf you follow provides good hands and pro the whole way.

Directissima

Another way to get to the GT ledge on the High E Buttress, Directissima is a climb of great variety and another good candidate for best moderate climb in the Gunks. Partially this is because of the fun 5.8 crack on pitch one and the scary, pumpy 5.9 traverse on pitch two, but mostly it is because of the unique beauty of the 5.6 third pitch, which follows the point of the arete all the way to the GT Ledge. The pitch starts out steep, but as you climb the angle eases off and soon you are free to just take in the surroundings from your perch at the tip of a triangle sticking out from the main cliff of the Trapps, with terrific views in both directions. Once you reach the GT Ledge you get to finish it off with the crux pitch of High E.

Basking Ridge

This climb is listed in the most recent Williams guide to the Nears as a link-up of two old classic climbs, Baskerville Terrace and Yellow Ridge. The first pitch, which is the first pitch of Baskerville Terrace, is a great, pretty stiff 5.7. The 5.6 second pitch goes to the right on a ledge about 10 feet below a pair of pitons that make up an optional belay station on Baskerville Terrace. Follow this ledge to the right into a left-facing corner, and then a perfect, rising hand- and foot-rail will take you to the right to the outside corner and around to a stance. This rising traverse takes good gear and features great exposure, and when you're at the stance around the outside corner you just head straight up through the awesome 5.6 roofs on the final pitch of Yellow Ridge. A great and unique 5.6 pitch in the Nears, and one of my favorite pitches in the Gunks.