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.

On-Sighting is Hard: Frustration Syndrome (5.10c), Precarious Perch (5.9+) & More!

(Photo: Starting up the crux corner on Frustration Syndrome (5.10c).)

Last Thursday the kids finished school for the year. To celebrate, we rented a house in the New Paltz area for the weekend. I planned to climb for a few hours in the mornings and afterwards I would spend the afternoons relaxing with the family by the pool. It was going to be pretty hot in the afternoons anyway, so I was content to cram in a few pitches early each day while it was still reasonably cool outside.

Summer was officially upon us. 

I knew that soon it would be beastly hot all day in the Gunks. Prime early season was ending. And what had I done with the Spring? I had tried a few new climbs here and there but during the first half of 2014 I'd put barely a dent in my Gunks 5.10 list. I had City Streets (5.10b) in the bag, and I had attempted Try Again (5.10a), but that was about it. I did on-sight Turdland (the 5.9 way). And I red pointed Proctoscope (5.9+). 

Not exactly a hero's resume.

I wanted to try to get on something ambitious this weekend. When Gail and I met up on Saturday we decided to head out to the Slime Wall at the far end of the Trapps. We could warm up on something easy and then I would tackle something BIG. Maybe Falled on Account of Strain (5.10b)? Maybe Frustration Syndrome (5.10c)? Maybe even 10,000 Restless Virgins (5.10d)? 

We trooped down to the end of the cliff and in our enthusiasm we went too far. We passed the Slime Wall and headed up a trail to find ourselves at Almost Pure and Simple (5.8). And then instead of heading back down to the carriage road we stupidly bushwhacked our way back along the broken-up base of the cliff to WASP (5.9). We probably wasted 25 precious minutes stumbling around among loose rocks and pine needles making our way to the Slime Wall, when we could have easily walked there in a couple of minutes if we'd just gone back the way we came.

By the time we reached the base of WASP I was sweaty enough that I didn't really need a warm-up any more, so we just did WASP. 

WASP was an early 5.9 lead for me and I remember thinking it had great gear back in 2011. This time around with Gail I still felt the gear was good but it was a bit hard to find for the first few moves. I got a pink Tricam in a little pod for my first piece but it was one of those placements that doesn't seem possible. Somehow it fits. My second placement was also a challenge. Once I got to the little overlap where the right-facing corner starts, about fifteen feet up, the gear became automatic. But for the first couple of tough moves I was less sanguine about the pro than I was the last time I led the route.

Concerns about gear aside, WASP remains a great climb, with several awkward hard moves up to the rooflet about 25 feet up and then nice cruiser climbing above. We also did pitch two, which I really liked. It is allegedly 5.5 but the crux roof felt much harder than that to me. It is a long reach past some sandy/slopery intermediate holds before you find the jugs. The second pitch ends in a clean white V-notch that appears utterly blank from below, but which turns out to be easy. Nice climbing at the finish; I think when I did this with Vass three years ago we may have skipped the V-notch and climbed up dirty rock to its left. 

Watch out for loose junk above the GT Ledge in this part of the Trapps. It's a lot like Millbrook up there: seldom traveled and with lots of lichen and fragile flakes around.

(Photo: At the roof on Frustration Syndrome (5.10c).)

After we finished with WASP it was now or never. I decided to attempt Frustration Syndrome (5.10c), which is just left of WASP and which follows a shallow left-facing corner up to a little roof. 

My biggest concern was safety. I told myself not to get committed too far away from my gear. I thought the pro was supposed to be good, with nuts available all the way up the corner. I just needed to make sure to place enough of them.

I enjoyed the early going, traversing into the corner. There are some good moves and protection is available when you need it.

Once you reach the corner the first steps up are casual enough but then the hardest technical sequence on the route (in my opinion) comes as you leave a stance on a small ledge about halfway up to the roof. After I spent some effort working it out, testing holds, moving up and down and placing more gear, I made it past this move.

So far, so good, but then it all came apart. I got under the roof and the stance there was terrible. The handholds were hard to use. I wasn't willing to move up any further without more pro but I couldn't arrange myself so that I could place anything. I went up and down and then eventually took a hang, and then a fall, rather than go higher without gear. I kept moving up to just beneath the roof, failing every time to find a way to get stabilized. I wasn't even trying to make the moves over the roof, I was just trying to figure out a way to hold on with one hand and slot a piece.

After what seemed like an eternity and countless efforts I realized that I had completely missed a crucial jug hold. It was so obvious. I felt like such a moron. If only I'd bothered to look around the first time. Once I found it I stepped up easily to the roof and placed gear.

The roof too was a challenge. I didn't get the sequence right at first but eventually I figured it out. 

(Photo: Gail moving up to the corner on Frustration Syndrome (5.10c). She sent it on the first try! Of course she was helped by watching me try all the wrong ways first...)

Frustration Syndrome turned out to be aptly named. I was so frustrated by this pitch. It really brought into relief for me how many ways one can fail in on-sight leading. I got tunnel vision and ignored a crucial hold. I misdiagnosed the crux sequence over the roof. I was tentative, afraid to move above my protection. Each of these factors contributed in its own way.

I tried not to be disappointed. 5.10c is hard. I was very safe about how I approached the climb and that was the most important thing, right? There is great gear on Frustration Syndrome. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Mostly small nuts but they are bomber. I know, I tested them.

I walked out of the Trapps on Saturday wishing I could come back in the evening just to get the red point on Frustration Syndrome. I know that now I could fire the sucker off. I want to do it soon, too, before I forget all of my beta. 

(Photo: Gail making the traverse on pitch one of Maria (5.6+).) 

On Sunday, Gail and I decided to stay close to the parking lot so as not to waste any time. We were early enough to have our pick of lines so we began with all three pitches of Maria (5.6+), one of the best 5.6 climbs in the Gunks.

(Photo: Gail starting up Maria's pitch two corner.)

Every pitch is good but I especially love the roof problem on pitch three. Many have called it a sandbag but the holds are all there. It is just a little weird, moving left out of a corner and into an overhang. It is thrilling, and not just "for the grade." Great moves on beautiful white rock. 

(Photo: Gail finishing the roof problem on pitch three of Maria (5.6+).)

After we were done with Maria I wanted to hit another tough climb. I suggested we try Precarious Perch, which isn't a 5.10 but is something worse: a 5.9+. Oh, that dreaded plus sign.

It was nearby and it was sure to be open.

No one ever seems to do Precarious Perch. As with Frustration Syndrome the day before, I knew basically nothing about it. I knew that like its neighbor, my old nemesis Jean (5.9+), it was supposed to have a hard roof problem. I read Dick's entry in the guidebook and hoped for the best.

(Photo: Investigating the roof on Precarious Perch (5.9+).)

I was familiar with the starting face and corner, since it is shared with Jean. But then after a funky move into the corner, Precarious Perch does a delicate traverse right instead of heading straight up into the Jean roof. This thin traverse is very nice. I really enjoyed it.

Then there is a good stance at the roof. There is ample gear there too, and then Dick says you are supposed to move up over the roof slightly to the left. I thought I spotted the correct route upward, using a couple of improbably long reaches between crimpy holds, but when I explored it a bit it seemed too hard. I didn't really commit to it. Gail seemed to think I was looking in the wrong spot and I started to think she was right. Looking around, I could see other options in either direction.

I should have trusted my first instincts.

It turns out there are sucker holds to both the left and the right of the correct path on Precarious Perch. They seem better than the correct holds but lead nowhere. I found out through much testing and eventual falling that I couldn't get over the roof using them. It seemed like I tried a million things, taking a long long time and leaving Gail down there belaying me forever, again. Eventually I thought about giving up. 5.9+ wasn't supposed to be this hard. 

Finally I went back to the first path I had considered and rejected. I committed to the big lock-off and reach and made it over the roof, feeling like a moron for the second day in a row.  

(Photo: Gail making the delicate traverse on Precarious Perch (5.9+).)

On Precarious Perch I had fallen victim to some of the same errors as the day before. I'd been afraid to commit to a hard move above my gear. I had misread the route. Once I figured out what move I was supposed to make and really tried it everything worked out.

This is a hard roof! Much harder than Jean. I think it is the better route of the two, as it has the nice traverse before the roof. But in my opinion this is a solid 5.10. The move over the roof is quite difficult even when you know what to do. 

I was exhausted by the long effort on Precarious Perch but we still had a little time left so we ended our morning by top-roping Jean next door. 

(Photo: In the midst of the roof on Jean (5.9+).

After Precarious Perch, Jean felt pretty casual. It made me tempted to lead it again one of these days. I never did go back to get it clean on lead. 

I have to admit I was pissed off about how Precarious Perch went down. I should have gotten the on-sight but instead it was an epic siege. I hope in retrospect I've learned the right lessons and will do better on similarly hard on-sights in the future.

I need to do a red point day in the Trapps to hit all of the hard climbs I've failed to send. It is getting to be a pretty big list. We could move down the cliff, going from P-38 to Jean to Precarious Perch to Try Again to Balrog to Simple Suff (currently closed) and finally to Frustration Syndrome. 

Actually I think that would be a pretty fun day! Maybe I'll do it soon if it isn't too beastly hot out. 

Gunks Routes: Falled on Account of Strain (Pitch 1 5.9), Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow (Pitch 2 5.8)

(Photo: Pointing where I think the route goes on Falled on Account of Strain, pitch two (5.10b).)

Another late-season climbing day, another chance to push the limits.

I had big ideas as Adrian and I headed to the Gunks. I knew Adrian wanted to lead WASP (5.9), which I led earlier this year. WASP sits down at the Slime Wall, near the far end of the Trapps. I've spent very little time down there, so there were a bunch of climbs I was interested in checking out. One of the top climbs on my list was Falled on Account of Strain. The first pitch, which ends at a set of bolts, is rated 5.9. The second pitch goes at 5.10b through an incredible set of gigantic, tiered roofs.

As insane as it might sound, I was thinking I would lead the second pitch. I'd seen pictures of the route; the roofs pulled at me like a magnet. The thought of climbing them had me slobbering with Pavlovian anticipation.

But first we did WASP, and I have to say I wasn't exactly feeling super strong. Following pitch one I found the early moves surprisingly difficult. I caught myself thinking I wasn't sure how I'd feel leading the route, and then remembered that I'd led it a few months ago! I had thought I might try to lead the 5.9 variation climb Stubai to You as our second pitch, but when we got up to the GT Ledge I decided, given that I felt a little tentative, to check out Sticky Gate Direct (5.7) instead. (It was good! A very nice pitch, better than pitch two of WASP.)

Back on the ground, we walked over to Falled on Account of Strain and had a look. I thought we should go for it. Adrian was totally up for the first pitch, and since it ends at bolts we could easily bail from there. I figured I could venture out to look at the roofs and come back if it seemed too hairy. Also Dick Williams suggests as an alternative the second pitch of Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow, which goes through the roofs at an easier 5.8 grade. Dick gives Tomorrow x 3 no stars, but I guessed it would still be an interesting alternative, and maybe from the shared rap station we could lower ourselves over Falled and try the crux if it was too scary on lead.

(Photo: Early in the 5.9 pitch one of Falled on Account of Strain.)

We got set up beneath Falled and before getting started I wandered into the woods to take a quick leak. As I stood there amongst the trees I jokingly called over to Adrian "you're on belay, climb when ready!"

"Are you going to belay me," he replied, "or are you just going to stand there with your dick in your hand?"

Maybe you just had to be there, but this became a source of much hilarity for us. "Or are you just going to stand there with your dick in your hand" can be usefully adapted to fit into just about any climbing conversation.

For example:

"So go ahead and give me the rack, whenever you're done standing there with your dick in your hand."

Or:

"I just took this amazing photo of you, while I was holding the rope AND standing here with my dick in my hand."

And so on.

I guess you had to be there.

Anyway, pitch one of Falled on Acoount of Strain turned out to be a very worthwhile climb in its own right. Dick rates it at 5.9 but Swain calls it a 5.9+ and I think Swain has it right. The first moves are 5.6-ish but unprotected, up the face to the left of a thin seam. Once you get some pro in, about 15 feet up, you move to the right and into the crux, thin moves between spaced horizontals. The first of these moves puts your feet even with your last protective gear. Your next pro comes in a blind placement over your head at the next horizontal. Adrian is much taller than me and he had to do a pull up to examine the gear and fix it before making the next moves. Following him, I found that I had to step up fully into the move to examine the gear and get it out. I had to struggle a bit with the piece and I almost popped off while trying to remove it.

Dealing with this one difficult placement is my only real concern about eventually leading this pitch. Afterwards the climbing and the gear get easier to handle.

(Photo: Almost done with pitch one of Falled on Account of Strain. The tiered roofs await, overhead. The pitch one crux comes between the two horizontals visible in the lower right corner of the photograph.)

When I joined Adrian at the belay he asked me if I was really up for leading pitch two. Looking out at the roofs I thought it seemed simple enough to wander over and check them out. I was sure I could get gear in the first tier of the roof system. So long as I could get pro at each tier, I figured, I could keep moving up. There would be no shame in taking a hang, as long as the gear was good and the falls were clean.

And so I ventured forth, promising not to make any moves I couldn't reverse until I was sure about continuing.

(Photo: The point of no return. To continue, or not?)

I traversed easily to the first overhang. There was good gear. I believed I was at the right spot at which to pull up and over to the next tier. There was a lot of chalk even further right, but it seemed to me this was errant chalk, sucker chalk.

I pulled up enough to see if I could get gear at the next tier. I couldn't see any potential placements. This was a major bummer.

What about further right? I ventured over to the sucker chalk and looked up there. But I didn't see any gear over there either.

I wandered back to where I thought the route really went and kept looking it over. I felt a rush of emotions and excitement. I had a decision to make.

Option A: I could commit to the next tier, knowing I would have to move up AGAIN to the final tier before finding any pro. There had to be gear up there, or this thing wouldn't be rated PG, right? But if I committed to this course I doubted I could climb back down and if I popped off it would be a real fall.

Option B: I could give up and traverse back to the anchor.

I hope this doesn't sound too grandiose, but I felt I stood at a sort of crossroads.

I was straddling a line dividing my climbing past and my hoped-for climbing future. A past mired in moderates, and a future involving the real deal. A past of mucking about on ledges, and a future filled with improbable environments and thrilling situations. A past of standing around with my dick in my hand, and a future of bold action.

The atmosphere beneath the overhang was incredible. I wanted to go for it, but I wasn't quite sure I was ready. It had been a great year. Maybe this climb was meant for next year?

Adrian called over to give his opinion.

"You want me to support you, right?"

"No, dude, tell me what you really think."

"It looks crazy to me."

That was all I needed to hear. I decided to traverse back to the anchor and climb Tomorrow x 3 instead.

(Photo: Getting into the 5.8 roof on Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow.)

I'm glad we went ahead and did Tomorrow x 3, because the roof was fun. It is not a cakewalk by any means. The holds are very good, but once you are in the roof you traverse out to the left (with good pro) and it is very strenuous, a little burly, I think, for 5.8.

I later learned that Swain calls this a 5.10 roof, so I could claim this as my second 5.10 Gunks lead... but let's get real. There's no way this is a 5.10. Maybe 5.8+ or 5.9-.

Once you get above the roof, the remaining climbing up and right to the Falled anchor is very dirty/bushy, and not very pleasant. And the fixed station for Falled as of this writing is crap. There is a big old angle piton (rusty but probably fine), three nested rusty pitons (impossible to evaluate), and two equalized nuts in a horizontal, at least one of which has a cable that is almost rusted out. All of it is tied together with ancient, faded, stiff cord and webbing.

I refused to use this anchor. If you go up there, bring some cord/webbing and maybe some nuts to shore up the station. We ended up bushwhacking through filthy territory to the GT Ledge and then we rapped off the Sticky Gate tree, which will get you down with a single 70 meter or with 60 meter doubles.

Adrian later asked me why I am so attracted to these roof problems. I gave him the cold, logical reason: I'm looking for good holds and clean falls. Face climbs of the same grade tend to involve more difficult sequences and more fiddly gear. He responded quite reasonably that he prefers the face climbs because you can stop and think before the crux, whereas with the roofs you know the clock is always ticking. He felt more secure on the 5.9+ face of Falled, for example, than he did in the 5.8 roof on Tomorrow x 3, because on Falled he knew he could chew over the moves as long as he liked before making the commitment.

This is of course a matter of personal preference, with no right answer. What I failed to add to my side of the argument, but what still tips the balance for me, is that the roofs are awesome. To me there's no thrill like getting over a big roof. I guess that's just what makes me a Gunks guy. Looking at the roof photos above, I find it hard to imagine feeling any other way.

The Quest for "Easy" Gunks 5.9s

I've returned to my mission of two years ago: breaking into 5.9.

I already did the obvious easy ones. Two years ago, when I first travelled in this direction, I led Ants' Line as my first 5.9. It is a great climb, with a short crux and solid pro throughout. It is pumpy, especially if you dilly-dally and don't get on with it. But the vertical crack with great protection seals the deal; it is the first 5.9 for many a climber, and a good choice.

Right next to Ants' Line is the other obvious choice: Bonnie's Roof. Lots of good climbing here, and the crux, while intimidating, has great pro and juggy holds. Many folks think it is easy for the grade, insisting it still deserves its former grade of 5.8.

Once you knock off those two climbs, other entry-level 5.9s aren't quite so easy to find. There are gimmicky ones I've never attempted, such as Arch Direct (aka Wick's Banana), in which a contrived roof problem is thrown in the middle of a 5.5 pitch. Or short ones, like the fifty-foot Red Cabbage, on the Gerdie Block. But I'm not too inspired at the thought of doing these climbs. I have such limited time for climbing. I don't want to do a climb if the only thing I can say in its favor is that it is easy for 5.9. I'd rather get on great classics when I get out.

This past Saturday, climbing with Vass, I looked for some high quality easy 5.9 pitches to try, aiming for climbs whose ratings have floated between 5.8+ and 5.9-. We ended up getting on four of these climbs in the Trapps, and since Vass has been too busy to get out climbing much lately, he was happy to let me lead all the harder stuff.

(Photo: Looking down at the juggy final bits of pitch one of Cold Turkeys)

First up was Cold Turkeys, an obscurity hiding in plain sight amidst some of the highest-quality rock in the Gunks.

The climb sits at the right end of the Arrow Wall, occupying the same corner system as the classic climb Easy V. While Easy V takes a 5.3 path up the inside corner, Cold Turkeys goes up the outside corner at either 5.8, if you follow Dick Williams, or 5.9- if you believe Todd Swain.

I've been curious about Cold Turkeys for a while, because while the Arrow Wall is filled with amazing climbs, they are known mostly for their second pitches. Arrow, Limelight, Annie Oh!, Three Doves (see below), and Red Pillar all feature great second pitches on beautiful, marble-like white rock. But with the exception of Three Doves (and arguably Limelight), none of these climbs has a first pitch that lives up to the second pitch. Last year I tried an alternative way to get to the GT Ledge on the Arrow Wall: pitch one of Snake, a 5.6 at the far left end of the wall. Dick gives this first pitch two stars in his guidebook. And although the early climbing on the pitch wanders, the crux bit up a headwall with a thin vertical crack is very nice indeed, making Snake in my opinion one of the better first pitches in the area. It is a great link-up with pitch two of Red Pillar; I'd much rather take Snake to the GT Ledge than Red Pillar's first pitch, which has maybe two good moves on it above the initial pillar.

I was hoping I might feel the same way about Cold Turkeys that I did about Snake; maybe I'd gain a new favorite pitch in the neighborhood. Dick gives it a star, and I never see anyone doing it. Swain's 5.9- rating further piqued my interest. Why not give it a try?

It turned out to be pretty decent, and a one-move wonder. 5.4-ish climbing up left-facing flakes takes you two-thirds of the way to the GT Ledge. The flakes are pleasant, and the position at the corner is airy. You arrive at a ledge, really the top of a pedestal, beneath an orange face capped by overhangs. There is a shallow left-facing corner directly in front of you. The crux is stepping up onto the orange face, where one thin move up will allow you to move left to the outside corner and a good stance. Then it's smooth sailing up steep 5.6-ish jugs to the GT Ledge.

I thought the one-move crux was nice, and that Dick probably has it right at 5.8. There is also good pro at the waist level for the crux move; I placed two pieces before stepping up. My only reservation about Cold Turkeys is that without overhead pro for the crux move, you're risking an ankle-tweaker fall on the pedestal if you blow it. This factor alone will probably keep me from returning to Cold Turkeys any time soon.

Having completed the pitch, we found ourselves with a great opportunity: Three Doves was open. This is another borderline 5.9 pitch. Dick calls it 5.8+, Swain says 5.9-. Neither Vass nor I had ever done it. I led the 5.8- pitch one last year, and thought it was really very good, featuring fun climbing past horizontals and small overhangs to the exciting crux slabby moves on a clean face to the GT Ledge. Pitch two was a different story. It had always scared me off. It was the same old fear: thin face climbing past a pin.

But on Saturday I decided I was really over this fear. I had become a face-climbing dynamo. So I racked up for Three Doves and attacked pitch two.

The beginning of the pitch is just okay. It heads up from the GT Ledge trending right, and then left, following the pro, to an optional belay tree. Then the blank white face looms above, the lone pin in the middle pointing the way. The pro is good until the crux move, which comes just before the pin. There's a good horizontal at your feet for this move, in which I placed two cams.

Once you make the oh-so-delicate step up to the pin, the blank face continues for a couple more moves to the roof. You can see as you stand at the pin that there is pro at the roof but not before. You need to find some other pro at the pin level or you'll be relying solely on the piton (which looked pretty good, actually). I did my best to back it up. There is a rather shallow little slot below the pin in which I placed a micronut. I carry a biner with three different brands of micronuts on it for just this sort of situation. I kept trying different nuts, finding them acceptable for a pull straight down. But if I pulled them to the left they'd pop right out. Finally I wedged a # 3 Black Diamond micronut in at an angle-- I couldn't make it fit totally sideways. It sat at a diagonal in the crack, and I couldn't pull it out either with a yank down or sideways. I was dubious of this nut, but when my partner Vass inspected it he thought it was good. I was happy not to test it or the pin. I made the next couple thin steps and arrived at the roof with relief.

The traverse moves under the roof are pleasant and well-protected, and a final layback up a cool diagonal crack leads to the bolts. Three Doves is a stellar climb and I think that it fully deserves to be called a 5.9. It definitely features harder moves than the 5.8+ face-climbing on Birdland that I did the week before, and I'd also rate it as harder than the other 5.9s I discuss below. So I'm not sure I'd call it an introductory 5.9. The crux is several moves long and the pro is not entirely ideal. But it is such a high quality climb. It felt great to get it onsight.

(An aside: after Three Doves we did the second pitch of Annie Oh! (5.8), which has somehow eluded me over the years. This ended up being my favorite pitch of the day, with great move after great move, on and on. It doesn't let up until the final step up to the anchor. I had such fun leading it that it felt like it was over too soon; I wished it were twice as long. More evidence that (1) the Arrow Wall is one of the best locations in the Gunks, (2) 5.8 is one of the best grades at the Gunks, and (3) working on 5.9s is a good way to make yourself feel amazing on the 5.8s.)

After we came down from the Arrow Wall we headed to the far-out Slime Wall to check out another 5.9 with a reputation for being soft: WASP. This one is considered a 5.9 by both Williams and Swain, but it used to be rated 5.8. The hard, steep section comes right off the deck, and is over within about 20 feet. After the crux the angle eases and it's 5.5 climbing all the way to the GT ledge.

Now that I've climbed it, I'd say WASP is exactly the beginner's 5.9 climb I was looking for. The first pitch is long, but the 5.9 section is short and on the soft side. There are three or four good moves, none extremely difficult. You follow a thin crack but you don't crack climb. The holds appear on either side. The moves are steep and they come at you in succession. But then before you know it you are at the easy little rooflet and the hard stuff is over.

I thought the pro was great. There are numerous placements. I remember a # 3 Camalot in the obvious pod a few moves off the deck. I also got a great purple C3 behind a constriction in a thin downward-facing crack a little higher. That little cam placement was awesome; it was never going to pop out in a fall. I placed lots of other gear besides this. On WASP, you don't have to rely on some funky old pin.

And then the 5.5 climbing that followed the crux was a mellow bonus. I enjoyed leading all the way up to the GT ledge. Vass then took a turn leading the 5.5 pitch two, which was also well worth doing, at least through the neat roof problem. The last bit to the top was a little dirty.

After WASP, I wasn't sure I needed any more 5.9 in my day. Things were going very well; why push? So we took a little break and climbed Moondance (5.6), a single-pitch climb that Dick gives a single star. Vass took the lead and while it wasn't bad, or a waste of time like Fancy Idiot (5.6), my verdict was "eh." Steep climbing with good holds. It was nice enough but I'd never go out of my way to climb it. The most appealing thing to me about it was the secluded ledge it starts on. You really feel alone there. We didn't bother to do the sister climb Sundance (5.6).

After Moondance I felt re-energized. I told Vass I wanted to hit one more 5.9: Casablanca.

(Photo: Approaching the big roof on Casablanca)

Casablanca is a roof problem climb, and from underneath the roof looks huge. It seems highly unlikely that this roof can go at 5.9 (or 5.8, as Swain says!). Dick says in his guide that there's a jug over the roof; I figured the trick would be getting my feet up and grabbing it.

I was a bundle of nervous energy as I got ready to lead the pitch. Mostly it was the thought of getting over that roof, but I was also worried about the easier climbing below. I'd read some reports of runouts and crappy rock.

But my experience did not bear out these complaints. I thought the climbing was good, fun, and well-protected. The line follows the flakes that provide pro. First you jog right to one flake, then a little left as you pass over a nice 5.7 bulge and head for another flake. More 5.6-5.7 climbing takes you up into orange rock and a notch with some more flakes that do sound a bit hollow when you tap them. But nothing felt loose to me and I thought I got solid pro in a horizontal off to the left. Then a good move over a small overhang takes you to the perch beneath the huge roof, at a big, flexing, left-facing flake.

There is a pin at the wall behind the big flake. I clipped this pin and put a double-length runner on it. But I would not want to fall on this pin. It is really really rusty. One of these days someone is going to rip it right off with his or her bare hands.

I also placed a cam in the horizontal formed by the flexy flake. I wasn't thrilled about this placement either, since the flex in the flake could cause a cam to pop right out. I tried to place a cam as far to the right as I reasonably could, to try to minimize the flex effect. This was easy for me to do with my double ropes; if you are using a single it should still work without too much drag so long as you put a long sling on the piton.

After doing a pull-up on the flake to check my overhead cam placement, I decided this was as good as it would get. I told myself that I had read reports by other climbers who have taken a fall at this roof and that their cams have held. So it was very likely mine would as well.

But I still wasn't about to take a fall here if I could avoid it.

I ventured out for the first time, putting my hands in the flake, getting my feet up. I pawed around, looking for the jug and not finding it. But then I thought I could see it. I stepped down to the better stance and shook out.

Time to go again.

I stepped up for the second time, and now I was pretty sure I knew where the jug was. I threw a heel hook right and tried to reach for it. No dice. I managed to step down again, still not weighting the rope.

I was getting a little pumped. Not too many more tries in the tank. "Stop scouting around," I told myself. "Just get your feet as high as you can and go for it."

I stepped up again, and just popped for the jug with my left hand-- and suddenly I was holding it! It felt really good. I threw a heel, pulled up and I was on top of the roof, letting out a yell and an "Oh yeah!!"

Casablanca is a one-move wonder but a really fun one. The crux is short, and the pro is good IF it holds in that flexy flake. I have my doubts about that, and I shudder to think of what would happen if that rusty pin beneath the roof were tested. Now that I've done Casablanca once I'm not sure I'll be hurrying back. It sure was exciting, though.

A last note about Casablanca: the rap tree just above and left of the crux is not very big to begin with, and it is just about dead. There is one live branch on the thing. I took one look at it and decided it was the single scariest rappel station I have ever seen in the Gunks. I wish I had thought to chop the slings off of it, but I did not. Please don't use this tree. It isn't safe.

I did about half of the 5.5 second pitch instead of stopping there. I continued up and to the right, where there is another tree with slings. This tree appears quite healthy, and it is bigger than the dying tree as well. But if you are climbing with a single rope I don't think you can use this second tree, since it is well more then 100 feet off the ground. We were using doubles so it was no problem for us to do one double-rope rap to the ground. If you have a single rope and you are climbing Casablanca, I would advise you to go all the way to the top, even though from what I did of it the second pitch is not terribly inspiring.