Oceans of Elevens in the Gunks

(Photo: That's me, setting off with some trepidation toward the many roofs of No Man's Land (5.11b). Photo by Andy.)

I've been feeling good lately. I'm climbing better than I have all year.

And it's high season! We've had some beautiful fall days in the Gunks.

I am a man in a hurry.

For me the goal is simple: I want to push into the 5.11's. For real.

I've done very few of them. I have my pick of the lot. As of a few weeks ago, I'd sent just three elevens in the Gunks. It shouldn't be hard for me to find some more. I can walk up to the best ones and try leading them. 

If only it were so easy. These climbs are at my limit. Not so long ago, I thought leading trad 5.11 was something I was incapable of doing. It should go without saying that I need to explore these routes safely.

The problem is that in the Gunks, a lot of the climbs that are harder than 5.10 have pretty sparse gear. It isn't like other areas such as, say, Indian Creek, where a harder grade just means the cracks aren't the right size for your hand. In the Gunks, the harder grades often signify that there aren't any cracks at all. With difficulty comes extra commitment.

But I know there are many Gunks elevens that have more than adequate gear. I just have to find them.

In my last two visits to the Gunks I starting wading into the 5.11 pool with a purpose. I tried to on-sight some elevens, and to check out some others on top rope to see if I could find a way to lead them with adequate protection.

I got out with Andy on an October day that was supposed to be rainy. But at 6:00 a.m. the weather in NYC looked good enough for the time being, and after driving up to the Gunks we headed straight down to the area near the Yellow Wall.

There are several 5.11 climbs nearby.

(Photo: Andy resembling a climbing ninja on Ent Line (5.11b).)

We started out by warming up on Ants' Line (5.9) and then we used its bolted anchor to take a top rope run on Ent Line (5.11b).

I'd done Ent Line on TR once before, and I remembered the initial 5.10d face as kind of tricky. And then, as I recalled, the 5.11 roof above wasn't too hard. I'd never seen anyone lead the climb. The guidebook says it is PG-R during the 5.10 part, and just plain R for the 5.11 at the top. I wanted to check out the placements for myself.

As I climbed the route with the security of the top rope, I was surprised to find lots of spots for gear all the way through the (very nice!) 5.10 climbing up the steep face to the rooflet. This part of the climb would be a great 5.10d lead on its own. And at the top of the face, there is gear at the 5.11 roof as well, at the bottom of the overlap where the handholds are. Above the roof there is another hard move or two on the upper face, and this is where it gets complicated: I'm not sure there is any pro for these last moves. It would be a big whip if you blew it at the top.

Despite the runout at the end, I think that I will lead Ent Line. It appears safe to lead the climb up to and over the roof (just watch out for the tree next to the wall). After the overhang, you can step to the right and finish on Ants' Line, or place some gear over on Ants' Line and then step back to the left to do the final moves on Ent Line. Either way it is a good 5.11 lead.

Now it was time for our big target for the day: No Man's Land (5.11b). I'd been talking about hitting this route for a while.

Like all the routes at the Yellow Wall, No Man's Land climbs through an impressive and intimidating multi-tiered roof system. Standing beneath the wall, you can feel the aura of the place wash over you. The overhangs are immense. I'd previously done one of the routes here, Carbs and Caffeine (5.11a). It had been tough and it had taken me a few tries to get it cleanly. And when I attempted Carbs, I knew there were bolts protecting the technical crux moves. This knowledge took away some of the fear, though later in the climb when I did the mental crux, moving out a hanging corner with no footholds (and no bolts), it was still plenty scary.

As far as No Man's Land was concerned, I knew that there would be no bolts. The bottom part of the pitch was reputed to be easy but poorly protected. And in the hard climbing above, I expected the pro to be difficult to place as I moved through the three tiers of the big roof system.

I racked up and dove in. 

The climb begins up an easy slab past a tree, with good pro in some cracks. Then the wall steepens and you climb 40-50 feet in 5.7-ish terrain on orange rock with almost no gear. The climbing is fun and casual but you have to be careful. As you approach the first giant overhang the pro situation improves; I was relieved to find great gear the entire rest of the way.

(Photo: That's me past the runout face and into the first tier of the overhang on No Man's Land (5.11b). Photo by Andy.)

I ended up taking a couple of hangs. I made it through the first tier, which is probably 5.10. Then I found harder moves to get over the second and third tiers. For me, the only issue at tier number two was commitment. Once I really went for it and found gear up there, the move was no problem. At the final ceiling I had more trouble. I had to hang to figure out the move, but once I did, I was pretty sure I would get it the next time.

My partner Andy had no issues at all as the second.

(Photo: Andy in the midst of the overhangs on No Man's Land (5.11b).)

Walking away from No Man's Land, I felt like maybe I would have been more successful if I'd been more aggressive. But I also felt pretty positive about how it went. I'd sorted it all out, the gear was good where it counted, and I knew I could come back and get the send. It wasn't THAT hard. I thought maybe it was easier than Carbs and Caffeine. It is a great line, with a thrilling atmosphere.

Next I ran up the first pitch of Airy Aria (5.8) so we could throw a rope over yet another 5.11b: the first pitch of Scary Area.

Now, I don't pretend to have enough experience in the 5.11 grade to be an expert, but this thing felt much harder to me then either Ent Line or No Man's Land. The pitch isn't long, but the wall is steep and the holds are small and sloping. There are several bouldery, hard moves.

And it is a dangerous lead. There are two protection bolts, but the first one comes after two very difficult sequences. There is a potential placement in between the two hard moves but I think you'd still hit the boulders on the ground if you blew it during either of the hard bits below the bolt. After the first bolt, the gear is adequate for the difficult moves that follow. The second bolt is completely unnecessary; it is slightly off-line and comes in between two good horizontals.

(Photo: Top-roping Scary Area (P1 5.11b). Photo by Andy.)

Andy got Scary Area cleanly on his first try on top rope. I didn't, but I felt like I worked it out and I could see coming back and setting it up again to take a few more runs on it. Then I could either leave the first bolt stick-clipped and lead it with the rope above me for the first cruxes, or if I felt like I really had it dialed I could try to lead it from the ground up. It is doable but I'd want to know for certain that I have it in the bag before taking on the initial moves without gear.

In any event, this first pitch of Scary Area is worthwhile. There is a lot of good climbing on it, even if you just do it on top rope.

Scary Area ended up being our last climb of the day. The rain finally arrived, sending us running for cover. Even though our day was cut short, I felt like we'd done some excellent work.

I now had some new projects to complete.

Andy and I were soon back in the Gunks for another day. I was pumped to hop back on No Man's Land... eventually. At some point.

Why rush? We had a full day ahead of us.

While I got mentally prepared for No Man's Land, there were plenty of other options.

I've been meaning to attempt Matinee (5.10d) all year. It remains one of the few big tens that I haven't tried. So with Matinee in mind, we started our day on Pink Laurel (5.9), which is right around the corner.

(Photo: Andy coming up the final bits of Pink Laurel (5.9).)

This was actually my first time leading Pink Laurel, after all these years. And my first time doing the pitch two roof. I ran it from the ground to the top in one pitch. I thought the first pitch was great. The crux move out of the alcove is awkward, and there is good exposure during the easier climbing up the corner to the ledge. I thought the second pitch was kind of a waste of time. It wasn't that interesting and felt easier than 5.9.

When we finished with Pink Laurel we found Matinee occupied. So we shifted gears and walked on down to the Seasons area.

(Photo: I'm in the early going on The Winter (5.10d). Photo by Andy.)

I was excited to do The Winter (5.10d). I'd been on this route before, but needed to get the redpoint on pitch one. And I wanted to try the second pitch of The Spring (5.10b/c), which sits directly above pitch one of The Winter. (It is confusing. The second pitches criss-cross above the first pitches.) The Winter/Spring link-up, done together in one long pitch, is sometimes called The Winter Direct. I'd never done the second half of the link-up.

It went very well, and man oh man, what a climb! The first pitch of The Winter is excellent and demanding, with a tough move off the deck just to get established and then wonderful thin climbing up a corner with tiny nuts for gear. When you throw in the second pitch of The Spring in one lead, you add a completely different challenge; a big roof in a corner. It too is mentally challenging, with a committing move out into space to get established in the roofs. The guidebook gives this pitch a PG-R rating, but I think the gear is good once you commit.

I was psyched to get the send on pitch one and the on-sight on pitch two. I think this double-length pitch is one of the best tens in the Gunks.

(Photo: Andy finishing the difficulties on pitch one of The Winter/Spring, with the challenging roof/corner of pitch two looming above.)

The Spring (P1 5.9) was sitting there open to our right so we did that one too, and again I led straight up at the end of pitch one and tacked on pitch two of The Winter. This upper pitch is rated 5.10b/c or d depending on how you do the crux. Dick Williams says in the guidebook that if you go straight up at the crux it is 5.10d, but if you hand traverse five feet to the left it is 5.10b/c, a little easier.

For most of its length, The Spring/Winter link-up features good, technical 5.9 corner climbing. Then there is a great slot for protection just below the obvious 5.10 move but you do have to step up above the gear. A couple of seasons ago I led up to this point and chickened out, traversing off to the right when I wasn't feeling it. But this time I wasn't worried. I followed the little handholds upward and was through it in no time.

I thought that I'd done the direct 5.10d version, but when Andy followed he reached to his right for a sidepull that I didn't use, so maybe I did it the 5.10 b/c way? The two options are within easy reach of each other, without anything that seemed like a "hand traverse."

(Photo: Andy at the second pitch crux of The Spring/Winter link-up (5.10d).)

Whichever way you finish it, the climbing on The Spring/The Winter link-up is nice, but not remotely as challenging as The Winter/Spring link-up to the left. The climb has a lot of good 5.9 on it and just one sequence of 5.10.

Andy and I had now ticked off six guidebook pitches pretty quickly. We were well into our short day and I still hadn't hopped on No Man's Land.

I figured we had to do it now. I told myself that I knew what to do.

Racking up, I felt a little bit nervous, but once I started climbing everything went off without a hitch. I negotiated the runout section without much worry. I remembered my beta for each of the three overhangs. The gear was good. The moves went fine.

I sent it in 17 minutes.

It is definitely easier than Carbs and Caffeine. Or maybe I'm better now? Who can say?

What a thrill! I was very very happy about it.

While Andy cleaned the pitch, I took a quick look at the namesake route for the area, The Yellow Wall (5.11c), just to our right. I thought about getting on it.  This would REALLY be the big one.

Staring up at the gargantuan roofs, I thought that I should do it. I had to do it. It would be a dereliction of duty NOT to do it.

But I came up with a million excuses and reasons not to... and then I remembered Matinee.

This was my out.

"Hey Andy, let's go back to Matinee!" I said.

We walked back down there but it was still occupied.

I decided to try another nearby climb: A-Gape (5.11b). This one has a crux roof with good gear, right next to the classic 5.8 Ape Call.

(Photo: That's me at the 5.9 move protected by an old pin on A-Gape (5.11b). The crux roof is above me in the upper left-hand portion of the picture. Photo by Andy.)

I thought the climbing at the start was interesting, up a layback crack. Then a 5.9 step to the right with only a very rusty old pin for pro was a little bit dicey. After that it was easy climbing up and further right (almost touching Ape Call) and then back left up the slab to the obvious big roof with a pointed flake underneath.

I was relieved to get good gear in the roof. I started out with two pieces, and then bumped it up to three after I fell off.

And I kept falling off. This is a hard roof.

(Photo: Attempting the roof on A-Gape (5.11b). Photo by Andy.)

There are some poor-to-middling holds above the lip. I could reach them. But I couldn't figure out how to get my feet up. I kept flaming out and taking the whip, several times. This was a real lead fall past the gear and down the slab, but it was clean. I must have taken the ride at least five or six times. Eventually I decided it wasn't going to happen. I gave up and traversed over to finish on Ape Call. I had to leave my blue Alien behind, hopelessly fixed at the ceiling.

I'm not sorry I tried A-Gape. It may be no Yellow Wall but it is a quality route. I'm pleased I made a game effort at it. My only regret (apart from the lost Alien) is that I never figured out the move. This was my fourth 5.11b in recent weeks and it felt much more mysterious to me than the others. I must have missed some kind of heel trickery or something. Since I traversed off and never finished the lead, Andy never got to try the roof. I'm sure he would have figured out what I was doing wrong.

(Photo: That's me, finishing our day on some obscure 5.9. Photo by Andy.)

As we walked out in the twilight I felt pretty darn good about our day, despite my semi-epic on A-Gape. I'd had some amazing sends on The Winter Direct and No Man's Land, and I felt like I had laid a foundation to make real progress into the 5.11 grade in the Gunks.

I don't know how much more climbing I'll get done at my home crag this season. Next week I am headed to Red Rocks for four days with my old pal Adrian. I have some big goals in mind. My enthusiasm is surging. I feel lucky to be going there before they turn the Bureau of Land Management into a mining company. Given recent developments in the real world, I may be tempted to hike into one of those big canyons and never come out...

Sorry. This is not a blog about politics.

I shall return. And if the weather permits, I may yet find some more 5.11's to attempt in the Gunks in 2016!

Gunks Routes: The Winter (5.10d), Stubai to You (5.9), Coprophagia (5.10a) & More!

(Photo: Adam on The Spring (5.9).)

When last we spoke, I was telling you about how great I was feeling. Seemed like I was breaking through to a whole new level, and so on.

Blah, blah, blah.

Right after I clicked the "publish" button on that last post, I remembered a principle I learned during my years in cycling.

Call it "Seth's Law."

It's simple. It goes something like this:

When you feel like things are finally coming together; when it seems like everything is looking up and you are getting better and better and better....

That's when it all falls apart.

The instant you get that wonderful feeling, you have just hit your peak. Savor the moment, because you are about to head downhill, and you won't feel that good again for a while. It may appear that you are at the beginning, but you're actually at the end.

Sorry, friend: it's over.

Sounds harsh, doesn't it? Well, what can I say? Life is harsh.

I didn't make this law; I only discovered it.

After my last, very successful day in the Gunks I ran headlong into Seth's Law, for the umpteenth time in my life.

I was fooling around in the gym, doing a bit of aimless bouldering, and after throwing for a big hold I dropped to the floor and felt my left forearm go stiff. There wasn't a pop but I could tell something was strained. The forearm throbbed for days.

In my next few gym sessions I took it easy, trying not to aggravate it. But suddenly it seemed like my arm wasn't the only problem. Everything was hurting: my feet, my elbows. Nothing seemed easy any more.

My wife and I took a trip for our anniversary and I was glad to have a short rest from climbing. After several days of prodigious eating and drinking, I came home ready to get back to some serious climbing efforts, but I just didn't feel the same.

It was still only May but summer was upon us. I was meeting Adam to climb on the Sunday before Memorial Day and the temperatures were going to be in the high eighties. Was spring already over?

Adam and I expected crowds on this holiday weekend, so we walked out to the far end of the Trapps.

We didn't have any specific routes in mind but as we passed the Seasons area we could see there was no one there. Adam had never come this far down the cliff so there were plenty of new climbs in the vicinity for him to try. It occurred to me that I could maybe lead The Winter (5.10d). I'd tried to lead it last fall but it was wet and I hadn't liked the gear for the awkward low bits, so I'd backed off. I thought now maybe things would be different. The climb might be dry and I might be better.

(Photo: Adam on Bold-ville (5.8).)

Adam warmed us up with a nice lead of Bold-ville. It remains a high-quality, solid 5.8.

Then I decided to attack The Winter. Unlike the last time, the route was bone dry.

But the end result was the same: I backed off of it again. The route was different but I was not. I placed a piece and then worked my way into the awkward alcove right off of the ground. There is a wedged block that acts as the roof of the alcove, and I found it impossible to place a second piece before making the move to get out from under it. I was worried about a ground fall if I blew this move. I didn't want to commit to the move. So after stepping up and down several times I bailed again.

Giving up completely, I decided to lead The Spring and throw a rope over The Winter in order to really figure it out on top rope, so that maybe I could try one more time to lead it in the future. As I led the 5.9 first pitch of The Spring I realized this really wasn't my day. The Spring felt hard.

Blame it on the heat. Or Seth's Law.

(Photo: Working it out on The Winter (5.10d). Photo by Adam.)

I thought The Winter was tough too, even on top rope. But not at that stupid, low alcove. It's awkward there but not too difficult. I know how the move goes now and I know I can lead this section. I think I'll be fine there. But the real crux, in the corner above, is hard. It felt more difficult to me than I remembered it being two years ago, the last time I did it on top rope. And the gear during the hard climbing is tiny little nuts.

But I think I will try it again.

(Photo: Adam in the crux corner on The Winter (5.10d).)

After we were done with The Winter we trooped on down to the Slime Wall. Again we had no real agenda. I didn't care any more about pushing my limits. It was hot and sticky and it didn't seem I was climbing terribly well. I just hoped to do something new.

Adam led the first pitch of WASP-- his first 5.9 lead! I gave him my beta for the magic Tricam placement just off the ground. Soon enough he got through all the hard moves and he was cruising up to the GT Ledge.

(Photo: Adam on WASP (5.9).)

Once I joined him there on the ledge I decided to lead Stubai to You, a variation pitch which heads to the right from the second pitch of WASP. This pitch veers off to a traverse below a roof and then vaults over the ceiling just right of an obvious notch. The climb used to be a sandbag 5.8+ but it is rated 5.9 in the most recent guidebook. I have considered leading it every time I've done WASP but I've never felt comfortable with the apparent lack of gear during the early parts of the pitch, when the route moves diagonally up the face above the GT Ledge to the roof.

This time around I went ahead and did it and it was quite worthwhile. The gear is a real issue. As you head to the right from WASP the moves aren't hard but the only place for pro comes at a little overlap with a thin horizontal crack. I couldn't work any of my small cams into the crack but I managed to slide in a small nut. It might have been good. It was hard to evaluate.

It was just one more move up to the roof, and once I reached the overhang there was ample gear for the traverse and the crux ceiling. It is a great roof problem and in my opinion it is definitely 5.9! Steep and exciting. Once you're over the roof it is easy to move up and right to the rap station on the Sticky Gate Direct tree.

(Photo: Adam coming over the roof on Stubai to You (5.9).)

When Adam and I got back to the ground we started looking around for something else to do. I started to examine the climb just to the left of WASP, called Coprophagia (5.10a). It gets no stars in the guidebook and has a VERY unappealing name. (Coprophagia is the ingestion of feces.) But the climbing looked awfully good to me. After moving left out of an overhanging corner the route follows a thin traverse to the right for about 20 feet before moving up a clean face with large blank sections between horizontals.

A group was next to us, going at Frustration Syndrome (5.10c), a route I'd worked hard to redpoint last year. One of the people in the group, a guy named Jerry, told me that the pro on Coprophagia was good. So I thought we might as well try it.

I liked the pitch a lot. It has a suprising amount of good climbing on it. The opening moves are steep and there is a cool sequence to get up to the little lip, under which you do the thin traverse. The traverse itself is technical and interesting, with just enough gear-- I wormed in another magic pink Tricam right before the hardest moves.

Unfortunately I was pumped out and puzzled at the crux move at the end of the traverse. I tried going too far right, then too far left, and finally took a hang. It was turning into one of those days. Our new friend Jerry-- who seemed absolutely thrilled that anyone besides himself was climbing Coprophagia-- offered me a tip on the crux move and then I sailed through it, and the rest of the pitch, feeling like an idiot. I had forgotten to mantel.

It is worth remembering: You can work out in the gym all winter and crush 5.12 pocket-pulling (for example), but that won't get you up an off-vertical slab. You need non-gym techniques for that. And when the time comes you have to remember to try those techniques! I need to go back for the send on Coprophagia. I am pissed about this one. It was easily within my reach.

(Photo: Having finished the difficulties, I'm traversing left off of Coprophagia (5.10a). Photo by Adam.)

At any rate, Coprophagia is a fun climb and I can't believe it doesn't get any stars in the guidebook. It is a worthy neighbor to all of the other face climbs on the Slime Wall. It is not as spectacular as Falled On Account of Strain (5.10b) but it is as entertaining as WASP and is certainly better than the rather lame Comedy in Three Acts (5.11a). The line wanders, but I would argue that this is part of the fun.

(Photo: Adam working through the steep start of Coprophagia (5.10a).)

Once you get past the difficult bits on Coprophagia you have several options. The most straightforward of these is to trend up and right until you merge with WASP to the GT Ledge. But you don't have to go that far if you don't want to. Once you are about level with the big tree which is off to the right atop the mound which marks the beginning of Sticky Gate, you can either traverse right to this tree or traverse left to the bolts above Frustration Syndrome. I chose to go left to the bolted anchor and it worked out fine, but the drag was pretty bad once I was lowered off. Probably the best thing to do is to build a gear anchor once you reach the easier territory, and then you can bring your partner up and afterwards traverse off in either direction.

Once we were set up on the bolted anchor we were well-positioned to finish our day with Frustration Syndrome and The Stand (5.11a).

I was keen to try The Stand. I've recently toyed with the idea of attempting it on lead-- I'm looking for my first Gunks 5.11-- but given how my Sunday was working out I was content to give it a top rope preview. Maybe with a little luck I could achieve the coveted top rope flash.

But it was not to be. I eventually got the very tricky crux stand-up move but it took me three tries.

The route is good but it is brief. There are a few steep moves up to a hanging corner and then a single crux sequence as you move up and around the corner to a perch on the tiny ledge atop it. The face above the corner looks entirely blank from below but is it, really? I'm not saying.

(Photo: Adam is doing the thin traverse on Coprophagia and you can also see almost the entirety of The Stand (5.11a)-- the crux hanging corner is visible to Adam's left, near the top of the photo.)

I think I can lead this route. The crux is very well protected. My main worry is that it may be difficult to get meaningful gear after the crux. There is a tiny horizontal crack after you step to the left. I think I can get something in there but it will be very small gear. After one more move the route is basically over.

As we ended the day I regretted not performing better and hoped it was just a temporary lull or an off day. Maybe we'll get a little more sending weather yet this spring and I will have a chance to redeem myself on all of these climbs Adam and I attempted on our swampy Sunday. Coprophagia should be a simple one to knock off now that I've done it once, and I believe in my heart of hearts that The Winter is within my reach. The Stand is less certain but I think it is a worthy project for the near term.

Gunks Routes: Blistered Toe (5.7+/5.9+)/Torture Garden (5.8)/Yellow Crack (5.6) Link-Up, Proctor Silex (5.9+) & More!

(Photo: That's me on the traverse from Blistered Toe over to Torture Garden.)

I'm feeling good lately. Have I mentioned that I've lost some weight? It makes a big difference.

In the gym I can really tell, and on routes within my comfort zone at the Gunks I've felt noticibly lighter, free and easy.

But feeling good is just part of the climbing equation. You can lose all the weight you like, but if you are mentally unprepared to deal with the challenge of a particular climb you still won't succeed. I saw this on my Eighties Day in the Gunks with Gail, when after feeling so strong all day I didn't feel comfortable just a few moves off of the ground on pitch one of The Winter, and the awkward climbing, slimy rock, and the lack of an immediate gear placement made me back off of a move that I've previously raced up on top rope without a second thought.

This past weekend with Adrian it happened again. I wanted to go back to The Winter to give it another try. I was also interested in the second pitches of both The Winter and The Spring. They are both 5.10's but very different. The second pitch of The Spring is on the left above the first pitch of The Winter, and it features a huge 5.10d roof. The second pitch of The Winter is on the right and ascends a 5.9 corner and then finishes with a 5.10d move up a blank face.

Adrian started us off by leading the first pitch of The Spring (5.9). It was an easy onsight for him. He was clearly feeling pretty good. He'd been able to get the redpoint of Simple Suff (5.10a) the day before. Simple Suff is one of those tens I still need to go back and get the send on. It is sustained and tricky. I really should try it again before this year is out.

(Photo: Adrian on Simple Suff (5.10a). Photo by Maryana.)

I felt fine following Adrian on The Spring. I've done this first pitch several times-- I'd led it most recently one week before-- so it felt very casual for me.

(Photo: Following the 5.9 pitch one of The Spring.)

When I joined Adrian at the chains I decided to give pitch two of The Winter a try. This is the one on the right, directly above pitch one of The Spring.

(Photo: Starting up the interesting 5.9 corner on pitch two of The Winter (5.10d).)

I had no issues negotiating the leaning, left-facing corner that begins the pitch. There is a 5.9 move in there near the top of the corner but nothing too serious. But when I got up to the 5.10 part of the pitch I didn't like what I saw. I made a steep move up to a horizontal slot that would take gear, and then stopped dead and confronted a blank face above it. It looked like a tough boulder problem, requiring the use of a sloping sidepull to high-step and reach way way up to a hold above the blank face, with the gear at your feet.

I kept stepping up and down, trying and failing to commit to the move, adjusting my crux gear, and then doing it all over again. Eventually I decided I didn't feel good about it and bailed off to the right to finish on Shit Creek (5.6), another climb I did with Gail the previous week.

(Photo: Adrian waving from the crux hand traverse on Shit Creek (5.6).)

Now I had achieved the dubious distinction of backing off of both pitches of The Winter on different days. I should have looked a little more carefully at the guidebook. When I read the description later I realized that I was staring at the harder variation, which Dick Williams lists in his main entry for the route as 5.10d. I failed to consider an easier way just a couple of steps to the left, which Dick lists as a 5.10b variation, but which I think is actually the original route.

I don't know whether I would have felt any better about the variation to the left. Maybe I would have at least gone for it if I'd seriously considered it. But since I didn't try I will have to put this on the long list of climbs I need to go back to. At any rate the first part of the pitch is quite nice, and the steep traverse into the sandbag 5.6 crux of Shit Creek is a fun way to finish if you wuss out as I did.

After we got back down I told Adrian I thought it might be fun to do something new and adventurous. I proposed we do a combination of three climbs, which Dick calls a three-star link-up in his guidebook: pitch one of Blistered Toe (5.7+ or 5.9+ Direct), into pitch two of Torture Garden (5.8 PG/R), into pitch three of Yellow Crack (5.6). I'd done Blistered Toe a few times but Adrian had never been on it, and the two upper pitches were a mystery to both of us.

 (Photo: Adrian past the tough start of Blistered Toe Direct (5.9+).)

Adrian managed to sketch his way through the the direct start of Blistered Toe (5.9+), so he was really climbing well. This opening has a couple of really tough moves up a small overhang and corner and then it's all over. The difficulties are brief but I think the moves require some specific beta so it is a hard onsight. The first time I tried it, years ago, I couldn't figure it out at all.

The rest of the 5.7+ first pitch of Blistered Toe is very very good, with steep climbing up a thin crack. There is ample gear and a host of good moves. Following Dick's advice for the link-up, Adrian continued past the usual end of the Blistered Toe pitch, moving up another ten feet and then traversing to the right about twenty-five feet or so, until he found a small stance with two pins which marked the intersection with Torture Garden.

(Photo: Adrian at the belay stance on Torture Garden (5.8).)

I led Torture Garden and it was not bad, I guess. It was pretty dirty/licheny. I liked the crux moves up a little nose of rock not far off the belay and the crimpy 5.7 climbing up a headwall at the end of the pitch.

(Photo: Just under the crux on Torture Garden (5.8), looking for decent gear.)

So the climbing was okay. But I thought the pro was worse than Dick suggested, even with his PG/R rating. For the crux move there is a little crack not too far below. I couldn't get a nut to work. I managed to get a cam, but the pocket was shallow. If this placement wasn't any good then a fall at the crux would have been a pretty bad idea. Up above at the finishing headwall I couldn't find any gear for the hard moves. The last pro I had was below the action, in a hollow flake. The climbing was all pretty casual so I wasn't concerned. I wouldn't do this pitch again.

(Photo: Adrian at the crux move on Torture Garden (5.8).)

There was a huge flock of vultures hanging out on the GT Ledge between Torture Garden and Yellow Crack. I counted at least ten of them milling about. They seemed completely unconcerned about me while I belayed Adrian up to the ledge. I wondered whether we should continue with our plan. I wasn't too worried about a vulture attack but I didn't want to disturb them and it looked like we'd be tip-toeing through a substantial amount of bird shit if we wanted to move over to do the third pitch of Yellow Crack.

(Photo: Adrian past the bird poop and ready to belay the third pitch of Yellow Crack (5.6), with Skytop in the distance.)

The birds must have known of our plan because they politely decided to clear out just as we were deciding whether to go ahead with it. When they all flew away, Adrian waded through the guano and over to the pedestal beneath our pitch.

(Photo: Starting up pitch three of Yellow Crack (5.6).)

Once I joined Adrian my end of the rope was on top again so I just led the pitch. It turned out to be awesome, with beautiful 5.6 climbing up a long flake system. The going is steep and the holds and gear are great. This pitch made the whole adventure worthwhile. Next time instead of Torture Garden I might take Blistered Toe pitch two (a 5.5 pitch that isn't bad, though it has some loose rock) to get to it, or maybe the long traverse of Oblique Tweak, which I haven't tried.

(Photo: Adrian's photo of most of the excellent 5.6 third pitch of Yellow Crack.)

Adrian liked Yellow Crack even more than I did. He pronounced it equal to High E in quality. I'm not sure I'd go that far, but it is a good one. I should warn you that the last fifteen feet or so to the top of the cliff is a jungle of lichen. But until that point it is all clean white rock. 

We hadn't liked the looks of the rappel station (a slung boulder) on the GT Ledge so we decided to walk back to the High E area to rap down. By the time we returned to our packs I felt like our day was slipping away. I needed to lead something a little more ambitious.

(Photo: View from the top of Yellow Crack.)

We decided to head over to the Feast of Fools area. I thought maybe Adrian would like to try Feast of Fools (5.10b) and I was interested in Proctor Silex, one of the (dreaded) 5.9+ climbs I had not yet gotten around to. I'd looked at it before but rumors of runouts had kept me away. I knew that Proctor Silex's immediate neighbor, Silhouette (5.7+), is also shunned because it is thought to be less than well-protected-- but I love Silhouette. So I told myself that I might feel the same way about Proctor Silex, and that I should try it. I have looked at it from Silhouette and it has seemed to me in the past that the two climbs are close enough together that if I felt funny while on Proctor Silex I could probably bail over to Silhouette if I needed to.

(Photo: I'm just below the crux roof on Proctor Silex (5.9+). The 5.7 runout comes after the starting corner on the lower right. You don't get a piece until you're a good distance up the face.)

When we got to the area Proctor Silex was open so I led it, and it went well. The only real runout was in territory that was easier than 5.9-- though I thought the necky bit was harder than the 5.7 claimed in the guidebook. You really should be mentally prepared to run it out in 5.8 territory before leading this pitch. Proctor Silex is much more run out than Silhouette and a fall during the runout would be ugly, onto the blocks at the base.

The route is like Silhouette's big brother, with excellent, similar face climbing. But Proctor Silex is more difficult, and it throws in an interesting corner problem at the start and a great roof in the middle. I really enjoyed it. I like all of the climbs on this buttress-- Hans' Puss (5.7), Feast of Fools (5.10b), Proctoscope (5.9+), Silhouette (5.7+), and now Proctor Silex. The area is loaded with great climbs.

When we finished with Proctor Silex, we found Feast of Fools occupied and it was getting late anyway. We decided to walk back towards the parking lot. On the way there we saw that Boston (5.5) was open. Neither of us had ever done it. Adrian decided to give it a try.

(Photo: Adrian in the off-width on Boston (5.5).)

It is a short pitch, only 50 feet or so. Adrian had no trouble with it and I followed in my approach shoes. We both thought the gear was less than ideal. The big crack is too wide to take any pro most of the time, and the other little cracks along the way provide marginal microcam placements. I thought about half of Adrian's placements were pretty iffy. The climbing is fun and a bit unusual. 

We've reached the time of year when I feel the season slipping away. Adrian and I had lots of fun but I couldn't help but be a bit disappointed as we left. I aborted the one really hard climb I tried. If I could bottle the cool head I am able to maintain on runout 5.8, and transfer it to well-protected 5.10, then I'd be really happy. I'm sure I'll have a few more days this season in which to work on it. And it is always so rewarding to explore obscure pitches. Even when they're not so great I enjoy the adventure.

Eighties Day in the Gunks: An Excellent Adventure

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You look fantastic, by the way."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I suppose they do.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"NICE PANTS!"

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

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