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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Andy was an instant supporter.

"Challenge accepted," he wrote.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I change my approach and "try again."

I fall again.

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

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

Andy cruises the pitch as the second.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Andy follows the pitch with no issues.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Andy follows the pitch cleanly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Photo: Ryan on MF (5.9).)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*             *              *

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

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

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

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

In other words: it sounds fun!

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

Coexisting With Coexistence (5.10d), Lito and the Swan (5.9+) & More!

(Photo: A climber named Nina leading Easy V (5.3), in between rain storms.)

I take it all back.

Remember when I said I had Coexistence (5.10d) all worked out-- and would maybe send it on my next try?

I even said it wasn't ridiculously hard. It's pretty much like Try Again (5.10b), I said.

I must have lost my mind.

I've been back twice since then and I still haven't gotten Coex clean. I haven't come close. If anything, I feel further away from sending it now than I did before I tried it the first time!

I went back with Gail the very next weekend, on a very hot and humid Sunday. The Mac Wall was quite literally baking in the sun, but I was determined to try Coex anyway. We warmed up on Higher Stannard (5.9-), one of my longtime favorites. For a change of pace I tried the 5.9 direct start, which is thin and without gear for three or four delicate moves. I'd never tried it this way before but I liked it. Dick Williams calls it R-rated in the guidebook but it isn't so bad. You can get a piece at the first horizontal a few moves up.

Everything went well and I was feeling good.

(Photo: Gail on Higher Stannard (Direct Start 5.9).)

Then we went directly over to Coex. I tried to relax, but I was very tense again. It was so hot, and I was really sweating as I negotiated the tricky 5.9-ish moves before the roof. They felt harder than before. Once at the crux, I thought I remembered my beta but I just couldn't get it to work. I must have fallen four times. I stubbornly kept trying the moves the same way, because my beta had been effective one week before! Finally something clicked and I got over the roof, feeling very frustrated.

(Photo: Gail at the roof on Coexistence (5.10d).)

I was back again on the very next Saturday, with Olivier. It was expected to rain in the afternoon but the morning was dry and with the changing conditions it was reasonably cool at the cliff. I thought maybe this time I would sail right over that Coex roof.

(Photo: Olivier getting us warmed up on Something Interesting (5.7+).)

But the weather didn't make any difference. I still couldn't achieve the taste of victory on Coex. I fell several times, again. This time I tried to work to improve my beta, but eventually after approaching the problem from several different angles I still could just barely get over it using a very similar strategy to what worked for me the first time.

I think I have to accept that this is not a terribly high-percentage sequence for me. The crux is always going to feel desperate and I just have to try to hit it fresh and with confidence, and hope for the best.

(Photo: That's me approaching the crux overhang on Coexistence (5.10d). Photo by Olivier.)

Coex only has one really hard sequence on it-- but boy is it hard. I'm not ready to give up on it yet. I'm determined to go back again.

I've found that flailing away at Coex does have one benefit: it makes other 5.10 climbs feel a whole lot easier. Since we were right there, Olivier and I threw a top rope over Try Again (5.10b), the climb next door, and it was like a different world. I can't believe I described the cruxes as similarly difficult, just two weeks ago. I guess they are somewhat similar-- but having done both of them in one session, I'd say the Coex crux is much, much harder.

I also led Mother's Day Party (pitch one 5.10b) while I was there at the Mac Wall with Olivier and I think my experience on Coex helped me with that climb too. Mother's Day Party felt pretty reasonable to me.

This is another Mac Wall ten that I'd tried on top rope once before, but since it was three years ago I couldn't remember much of anything about the moves. I was going for the pseudo on-sight, you might say.

(Photo: Olivier getting started on Mother's Day Party (5.10b).)

I found this first pitch of Mother's Day Party to be really nice, nicer than some of the other Mac Wall tens, in that it isn't all about one roof move. But it is also more committing than some of the others. The pitch has two distinct cruxes. Both cruxes require hard moves above your gear. The first crux involves climbing up some crimpy flakes above a little overlap. The pro is at your shins as you do the move but there is a ledge not too far beneath you so it feels a little bit risky. I ended up placing three pieces in the horizontal crack at the overlap. Then I tested the move several times (until I was just about certain I had it) before firing through it.

The second crux involves steep climbing up a bulging green corner. There are two hard moves, each one leading to a juggy hold. I would have been very pleased to find a gear placement in between the two hard moves. But I couldn't find anything, so I had to carry on.

(Photo: Olivier showing off some fancy footwork in the steep green corner on Mother's Day Party (5.10b).)

After leading Mother's Day Party I remembered that three years before, when I top-roped it, I questioned whether I would ever feel confident enough to lead this climb. Yet on this day I'd just done it on a whim, without a second thought. It felt good to sort it out above the pro and to know throughout that it was all going to be fine. I tried to remind myself that this was great progress and that my constant suckage on Coex was not in vain.

It began to rain as Olivier and I finished Mother's Day Party, and though we waited it out and got in a few more pitches before our day was through, we didn't do anything really notable.

We took a jaunt up Asphodel (5.5), which I hadn't done in many years. It is a high quality, long pitch, up a giant corner. The upper third is kind of dirty and there is some junky rock up there. But before the route turns grungy it is very nice, with fun moves.

(Photo: A foggy view over to Skytop from atop Asphodel (5.5).)

Flashing back to my day with Gail one week earlier:

I was so excited to see how strong Gail is leading right now. She's been climbing a lot lately and pushing herself to take the sharp end more frequently.

Once she and I left the Mac Wall on our hot, sunny Sunday, we went looking for shady climbs, and we found several over the course of the afternoon. Gail led pitch one of Airy Aria (5.8) and I swear she reached the bolts at the end of the pitch in less than two minutes. She had no hesitation at all during the technical climbing up the polished corner. I'm sure I took longer to do the pitch than she did, and I was on top rope.

(Photo: Gail leading Airy Aria (5.8).)

Gail also led pitch one of Oblique Twique (5.8?). I tried gently to suggest that this pitch might not be the best choice. I reminded Gail that it is a one move wonder, that the move is difficult and strange, and that it is hard to protect without blocking the key hold. I did the climb way back in 2010. I had a lot of trouble with it then and have never wanted to return. But Gail shook off these warnings and got it done with nary a hiccup. She managed to place a whole nest of small nuts for the crux move, some of which might actually have held in the event of a fall.

(Photo: Gail leading Oblique Twique (5.8).)

In our hunt for shade Gail and I also found two climbs that were totally new for both of us.

We climbed Tangled Up And Blue (5.8), which goes up a chimney hidden behind a corner next to Simple Suff (5.10a). It is pretty gritty in the chimney (which comes as no surprise) and I got my knees all scratched up as I wormed my way tentatively up this pitch. I thought it was fun-- at least in retrospect! We don't have enough climbs like this in the Gunks. It is good practice for other climbing areas. There is good gear throughout.

(Photo: Gail approaching the chimney on Tangled Up and Blue (5.8). Looks good, doesn't it?)

We also did Lito and the Swan (5.9+), which was probably the highlight of the day for both of us. This climb is an overlooked gem right next to the ever-popular Double Crack (5.8). Lito and the Swan is similarly long, steep and interesting. I think this climb doesn't get done that much because of Dick's PG/R protection rating, which is a shame because there is a ton of great climbing on it.

After you start up at some blocky flakes, you will see two vertical seams heading upward. Be sure to move immediately to the one on the left-hand side. There is a great 5.9 sequence there, with good rock and some hidden holds.

Once you reach a pedestal with some loose blocks, you are at the second crux, a move up the face to the ceiling of a small alcove. There is gear here but I think the PG/R rating comes from the fact that a fall at this point risks a landing on the pedestal. I don't disagree with the rating, but I think there are many climbs in the Gunks with similar risks that are not given the PG/R rating. One example is Mother's Day Party! I don't think the PG/R rating should keep you from doing the climb. Just watch it when you step off the pedestal.

I thought Lito and the Swan had good gear overall, and maybe this was just the Coex effect coming into play again but I thought it was a reasonably straightforward 5.9. I don't know where the "plus" comes in. Gail felt the same way. Whatever its proper grade should be, Lito and the Swan is very worthwhile.

We are officially into summer now. I don't know how many good runs at Coex I might get before autumn but if we have a cool enough day in the near future I'm going to hit it again. I have to send the stupid thing so I can get on with failing to send The Stand (5.11a)!

November Chills

(Photo: Working up the corner on BB Route (5.8+).)

We've had a colder than average November this year. We are told this is the result of what the meteorologists call the Polar Vortex. But I like to think of it instead as the Arctic Char. Mostly I use this term because I think it's funny (though my wife Robin has assured me repeatedly that it is not). I also prefer the term because, while I am ignorant of the actual workings of weather systems and the term Polar Vortex means nothing to me, the term Arctic Char, by contrast, provides me with a comforting mental image that helps to make sense of the world around us. I imagine the Arctic Char as a huge, spectral weather fish, hanging in space above our flat planet. The Arctic Char's whims are impossible for mortals like us to understand. But when the weather turns colder than average, we know that, for whatever reason, the Arctic Char has decided to swim over and pay our region a visit.

I, for one, welcome the Arctic Char.

Each autumn, as the season winds down, I tend to get very jealous of the the remaining climbing days. Every day that features a high above forty degrees might be the last such day of the season and whenever such a day rolls around and I can't go climbing I die a little inside. This year has been no different, but the presence of the Arctic Char has lent an air of extra desperation to my typically obsessive reloads of the New Paltz weather forecast. Despite the cold temperatures there have been some good days this November.

Early in the month I got out on a Sunday with a new partner named Andy. I met Andy at the Cliffs at Long Island City. Andy is a 5.12 sport climber and sometime trad leader who recently moved to NYC. His outdoor experience has come mostly out west, in Utah, Colorado and Idaho, though he has also spent some significant quality time in the Red River Gorge. When I met him he had never been to the Gunks so I made it my mission to introduce him to the area.

(Photo: Andy working the thin footholds on the traverse of Pas De Deux (5.8).)

We had a great day outside together. I led almost everything so that Andy could get a feel for the unique Gunks style. It turned out that the style suited him just fine. We didn't do anything that was new for me; I wanted to show him some of my favorites. I ushered him up Son of Easy O (5.8) and Pas De Deux (5.8) and then we headed down to the Mac Wall, where we spent the rest of our day.

I was pleased to finally get the elusive redpoint on Try Again (5.10b). I was feeling good. Andy made it look so easy as the second. Then Andy went to pull our rope and made a mistake: he got it stuck. He'd forgotten to untie the safety knot he'd put in the end of the rope.

(Photo: Andy following my lead of Try Again (5.10b).)

This wasn't a crisis-- it just meant that one of us would need to lead something on the other end of the rope to get up to the knot and release it. This was my chance to step up and lead Men at Arms (5.10b) or Coexistence (5.10d), both of which finish at the same anchor as Try Again. I considered these options for a split second but then Andy immediately volunteered to lead Try Again, which sounded like a fine idea to me! He cruised it on the sharp end. I thought it was pretty impressive. Even if you've just followed it, Try Again is rather stout choice for your very first Gunks lead.

(Photo: Andy taking over the lead to try Try Again (5.10b) again.)

When Andy's lead was done I somehow managed to snag a rope end AGAIN as I pulled the rope from the bolted anchor, meaning that once more I had to try Try Again AGAIN, at least partially. This has to be most appropriately named climb in the Gunks! It was turning into quite the farce. But once I scrambled up the initial easy pedestal I got the rope loose and was able to downclimb back to the ground, after which we were finally done with Try Again. We finished our day romping up MF (5.9) and Birdie Party (pitch one 5.8+).

The following weekend I wasn't able to go climbing, so I was not in the Gunks when a horrific accident claimed the life of a Chilean climber named Heidi.

I never met her but from all the accounts I've heard she was a great climber and person, strong and capable. At the time of her accident she was roped up but had placed no gear while leading the first 5.8 pitch of the Yellow Wall (5.11c). This is a common practice on this particular route. Strong climbers frequently solo the first sixty feet of this climb so that the entire route can be done in one long pitch without too much rope drag.

Heidi somehow slipped from about 30 feet up, with no gear in place, and fell to the ground. She was wearing a helmet but the impact must have been terrible. She never regained consciousness.

The climbing threads about this accident have for the most part lacked the usual chatter from the peanut gallery about how the tragedy could/should have been avoided.

For me this is a tough accident to deal with precisely because I too have no magic prescription to offer. Heidi was thirty feet up with no gear, which obviously is a situation I would advise most climbers to avoid. From such a height a death fall is obviously a possibility.

But Heidi was clearly a climber who was capable of soloing 5.8 under normal circumstances. She had previewed the route the previous week and had had no issues. She had made an informed decision as to how to proceed and felt that her chance of falling during the early potion of the route was close to zero. And she was probably right-- the chance was close to zero. But it wasn't zero.

It would be easy to look at this accident and say "I don't solo 60-foot pitches of 5.8 so this won't happen to me."

And it is true: I don't. Maybe you don't either.

But I know that even if I don't solo, I sometimes take risks similar to Heidi's, and maybe you do too. I climb through territory where a fall might be just as bad as Heidi's, but I consider the territory easy enough that such a fall seems extremely unlikely. I can think of climbs on which I have taken such risks this year: on Proctor Silex (5.9+), on Torture Garden (5.8), and on Deep Lichen (5.8), just to name a few. I'm sure there are other examples where I have been run out and a false move could have led to a very bad situation. If we are honest with ourselves as climbers, I'm sure most of us have been in such situations frequently.

So far I haven't paid any price for these risks but poor Heidi's accident is a reminder of just how high the cost of a wrong judgment call in such a situation can be.

A friend of Heidi's named cjkalman published a blog post called Focusing In On Death in which he wrestled with this same issue. He wrote about soloing and fatalities in the mountains and gave some advice:

Anything can kill you out there – a plane ride, a drive to the office, cancer, heart attack, etc.  I don’t think the point is to go through life petrified of the unknown – in constant terror at the concept of one’s own demise.  I don’t think the point is to quit climbing because it kills.  For myself, and for others who I am close to, climbing is a big part of what makes life so wonderful.

But perhaps the point is to turn it down a notch.  No matter what you are doing, go a touch slower, be a touch more cautious.  None of us is infallible.  None of us is invincible.  And you don’t have to fall far to fall all the way.  When we are climbing, it is incumbent upon us to take an extra step of precaution that at the time will often seem superfluous. 

There is wisdom in his words, and I think the challenge for moderate climbers like me (and perhaps you too) is to realize that this advice applies to us even if we aren't climbing superstars. We may not be soloing or climbing such radical routes as the one that tragically killed Heidi, but we are still engaged in the same game and taking similar risks. Our 5.5 runout might be the same risk for us, statistically speaking, as Heidi's 5.8 solo was for her. The chance of a fall may seem impossibly small but the chance is real. And the consequences of a mistake can be just as severe no matter how easy the terrain is.

Heidi's accident has haunted me. I climbed in the Gunks with Gail during the following weekend and I had a lot of trouble sleeping the night before we were to meet up. Gail had just come back from a long business trip to Asia, so she was far worse off than me-- she was utterly exhausted. I still had that end-of-the-season desperation to get out and climb but I wasn't really feeling like beating the world. I didn't push to hit any projects at my limit.

(Photo: Gail at the crux of Lower Eaves (5.9).)

We ended up sticking to the greater Uberfall area and we did a bunch of climbs that were new for me. Gail had done them all at least once-- she's done practically everything!

We had a nice easy day. I liked almost everything we did:

Lower Eaves (5.9): This climb has a good crux right off of the starting pedestal. There is solid gear that you can reach before you get out there and then I would recommend placing a piece to back up the junky old pin at the lip of the overhang. (I didn't clip the pin at all.) You have several climbing options after you clear the crux. I moved up a cool crack to the right and joined Bridle Path (5.7) to the top of the cliff, staying just left of Horseman (5.5). Good moves all the way.

(Photo: Gail at the crux of Double Clutch (5.9+).)

Double Clutch (5.9+): The last time I tried this climb I couldn't do the big move at all. It is a throw to a horizontal off of an overhanging cleft above the carriage road. This time around with Gail I still didn't get it right away. I tried to work out some beta to make the reach without a lunge but I couldn't do it. Gail encouraged me to really go for it as a lunge/throw-- and there is no reason not to go for it; the protection is excellent. Once I really went for it, I got it. It is a stupid little climb. Worth doing once.

(Photo: That's me on CC Route (5.7).)

BB Route (5.8+) and CC Route (5.7): I'd never gotten around to these short climbs to the right of the Uberfall descent route. BB Route is a good lead with a few tough moves up to the roof, made harder if you avoid the loose block with chalk all over it at the bottom of the wide vertical crack. The roof escape at the end of the pitch is straightforward but committing. We toproped CC Route because we couldn't see any gear. It was okay, but not as interesting as BB. I wouldn't lead it unless I had a few big number six Camalots on hand. There are some old pins but they look like junk.

(Photo: Gail securely wedged in the little chimney that begins Sundown (5.8+).)

Sundown (5.8+): This is a really nice pitch, right next to the ever-popular Frog's Head (5.6-). It has fun grovelly moves up the starting chimney formed by a block and then beautiful face climbing with decent (if spaced) gear. I thought this climb was the equal of all its more popular neighbors like Frog's Head and City Lights (5.8-). It was my favorite pitch of the day.

(Photo: Gail at the crux of Twisted Sister (5.8). The Baby (5.6) crack is visible to the left.)

Twisted Sister (5.8): Another squeeze job, this one right next to Baby (5.6). The crux is excellent, up a very shallow little corner just to the right of the Baby off-width. Good moves, and I got two bomber small nuts in the little corner. After the crux you can contrive to avoid merging with Baby all the way to the ledge but the climbing is much the same, sub-5.6 and not especially interesting.

By the end of the day I was feeling more like myself and wishing I'd done something a little harder. But in the wake of the horrible news from the prior week it was good to dial it back a notch and stick to some more casual fun. I could only hope that before the season was really over I would get another chance or two to hit my projects, with caution at the front of my mind, of course.

Stay safe out there, everyone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This brought to mind a song.

A Whitesnake song.

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

Going down the only road I've ever known!

Then I decided to change it up a little bit:

Like a drifter I was born to climb the stone!

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

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

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

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

All we needed was Tawny Kitaen.

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

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

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

I felt very out of shape indeed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It just wasn't my day, I guess.

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

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

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

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

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

He is a giant among men.

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

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

Here is the beta, free of charge:

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

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

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

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

"This guy" was me.

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

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

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

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