Free Clinics for Climbers on Saturdays in the Gunks

Joe Vitti works for Alpine Endeavors, a guide service based in New Paltz.

I hired Joe back in 2007 when I was first learning to lead trad climbs. Joe gave me two days of intensive training in placing gear and building anchors.  And we did some fun climbing.  I didn't know the cliff at all in those days-- it seems like another lifetime even though it was just five years ago.  Joe took me up several great moderates and only as an afterthought did I ask him the names of the routes we'd climbed.  They were all classics: Hawk, Snooky's Return, Madame G's, and others.  Along the way I learned a ton about how to keep myself safe at the cliffs.

Since then I've seen Joe guiding around the Gunks on several occasions.  He is always friendly, always professional.  He's an all-around good guy.

Now in response to the tragic accident a few weeks ago Joe has gotten together with some other guides to offer free clinics for climbers on Saturdays, at 5:00 in the Uberfall.  (See the flyer I've reproduced above.)  At these clinics these guides will be offering (for free!) the kind of priceless information I got by hiring Joe several years ago.  I would urge climbers of every level to try to check it out one of these Saturdays.  I hope to stop by myself one of the next few Saturdays.

If you would like to attend, email Joe at joe@alpineendeavors.com, or call Rock and Snow at 845-255-1311, or EMS at 845-255-3280.

Gunks Routes: Obstacle Delusion (5.9) & Teeny Face (5.10a) ...but still no Insuhlation (5.9)

(Photo:  Maryana tackling the crux move at the first set of overhangs on Obstacle Delusion (5.9))

I found myself at the Obstacle Delusion/Insuhlation buttress again with Maryana the other week.  Maryana wanted to lead Obstacle Delusion (5.9).  I'd never been on it but she'd done it once before, taking a hang at the first hard roof, then getting lost and bailing off to the right. 

I was excited to try it out, and of course being in this location made me think yet again about heading back up Insuhlation, the climb on which I broke my ankle in 2009.  As it happened, while we were getting ready to start Obstacle Delusion another party was finishing up the short first pitch of Alpine Diversions (5.8).  This other party was planning to do pitch two of Insuhlation, so from my belay stance on the ground I hoped to watch Maryana and at the same time get another look at Insuhlation.

(Photo:  She may not know it, but having grabbed the jug, this climber has done the tricky starting crux of Alpine Diversions (5.8).)

Maryana decided to do Obstacle Delusion as a single pitch.  She ran right up the traditional 5.4 first pitch, placing almost no pro.  Immediately she was below the big first roof.  This was where she'd previously struggled, and unfortunately she struggled again and had to take a hang.  I could see the hold she was going for-- it looked like a pretty big move.  After she rested she got through it.

(Photo:  Maryana in the steep series of overhangs that make up the second crux of Obstacle Delusion (5.9).)

The second crux of Obstacle Delusion seems to involve two different skills:  (1) endurance and (2) route-finding.  Maryana told me that her first time on the route, she'd wandered too far to the right and found herself lost in the 5.10 territory of the variation climb Teeny Face, then moved further right to Insuhlation, and finally bailed to the finishing moves above the roof on Alpine Diversions.  This time, from the ground, we'd looked carefully at the guidebook and she found what I believe is the correct 5.9 route.  In the photo above she is just below and to the right of the shallow orange right-facing corner mentioned in Dick's book.

You won't get lost, I think, if you stay in the numerous overlapping overhangs.  If you find yourself venturing to the right into the flatter, lighter orange-colored face, you are leaving Obstacle Delusion.

Maryana successfully negotiated the second crux through the series of overhangs, and after she put me on belay, I started up the route just as the leader in the other party was reaching the crux of Insuhlation. 

(Photo:  Climber following pitch two of Insuhlation (5.9); it is the same woman who is pictured above leading pitch one of Alpine Diversions.  I regret that I have forgotten her name!)

This climber on Insuhlation seemed like a very competent fellow, but he was struggling with the final roof problem.  And his pro was several feet below the roof. 

I stopped climbing for a moment and watched him.  I imagined his pro was exactly where mine was when I fell there two years ago.  But I had pulled above the roof without finding another placement.  He, more sensibly, was trying to place another piece before going any further.  He worked a nut in at the roof, but I heard him say it was junk.  He didn't clip it.  Instead he warned his partner that he was coming off and let go.

As I watched him fall, swinging down and into the wall, I thought he'd been so much smarter than I had been at that same location, and yet still this was a fall that could easily tweak an ankle.  (Luckily he was fine.)  I decided once again at that moment not to get back on Insuhlation.

But then as I negotiated the many overhangs of Obstacle Delusion-- finding them straightforward and well-protected, but pumpy and sustained (nice lead, Maryana!)-- I arrived at the top to to find the leader on Insuhlation had made it to the top as well, finding other pro and finishing the route.  Once he went back up, he said, he found both the pro and the climbing reasonable. 

The mystery gets deeper again. 

(Photo:  Another climber leading Obstacle Delusion; shot with my phone from the High Exposure ledge.)

After we finished Obstacle Delusion Maryana and I dropped a toprope over Teeny Face (5.10a) and gave it a whirl.  It too is steep and unmysterious.  It is definitely a step up in difficulty from Obstacle Delusion, and it does not have the same obvious protection opportunities.  We both sent it on the first try with the comfort of the toprope, but I don't know if either of us will be leading that one any time soon.  It features very good climbing, and it is totally worth the few minutes' effort to drop the rope over it if you find yourself at the rap tree and no one is coming up the route. 

I'd love to go back to lead Obstacle Delusion. The line is a little indistinct, but the climbing is classic Gunks. Steep reaches between good holds, with great horizontals for pro wherever you need it. And Insuhlation, well.... I'm still scratching my head about it.

Tragedy in the Gunks: Stephanie Prezant, Age 22

(Photo: Stephanie Prezant, age 22.)

On Sunday something unthinkable happened.

A young woman full of life, just a few months away from college graduation, went outside climbing for the first time.  She had no reason to think she was doing anything risky.  She climbed an easy route, and believed the rope to which she was tied was secured to a massive tree on the ledge above her. 

But when she weighted that rope the system that was supposed to protect her collapsed.  Climbers who were nearby reported that the rope didn't catch her.  Instead it (and the slings to which it was attached) came tumbling down.  With nothing holding her weight, the woman fell about twenty feet to the ground.

Eyewitnesses said that rescue personnel came immediately, tending to her injuries and quickly getting her to an ambulance.  Despite these efforts, they could not save her.

Young Stephanie Prezant died. 

I never knew her, but as a member of the community of Gunks climbers, and as an ordinary human being, I feel such pain at this tragic loss. I can only guess at the anguish her family must be feeling.  Being a parent myself, I have the barest inkling of the grief they must be dealing with.  And as for the people who were with Stephanie when it happened, for them too this must be such a terrible time.  I am so sorry. 

I wish I'd been there.  I wish I could have done something to prevent this horrible event before it all unfolded.

Whenever an accident like this happens, we climbers tend to come together and speculate about it on the internet.  It may appear insensitive, but it is inevitable and probably cannot be prevented.   

Part of this phenomenon, I think, is just the morbid curiosity we all share.  But there is a more positive side to the internet postings.  There is genuine concern in the community for the well-being of others.  Another part of it is the worry we all feel as climbers.  We trust our gear with our lives and when we hear of an accident we fear that our trust is misplaced and that we could be the next casualty.  We want to know the details both so that we may avoid whatever mistakes might have been made and also so that we can distance ourselves from the accident.  If we can establish that this accident was caused by one mistake or another, we can feel assured of our own safety because we would never make THAT mistake, whatever THAT mistake may be.

I am as guilty as anyone of participating in this orgy of curiosity and speculation.  When I heard there had been an accident I started a thread on Gunks.com seeking more information.  Mostly I just wanted to hear that the young woman would be okay.  But like everyone else I also wanted to analyze the event, to learn from whatever went wrong.

I guess I should have restrained myself.  My own post on the accident was an example of how these internet feeding frenzies produce misinformation.  I provided the few details I'd heard and one of them-- the name of the climb from which Stephanie fell-- turned out to be incorrect.  And then after some useful information surfaced, the thread devolved into the usual speculations and know-it-all prescriptive arguments, none of which were at all helpful to anyone.  Another thread, on rockclimbing.com, followed a similarly depressing trajectory.

I hope the Mohonk Preserve rangers who responded to the scene will eventually be able to make some determination of what really caused Stephanie's anchor to fail. 

Here, on my blog, I do not wish to presume I know exactly what went wrong.  Nor do I want to make her climbing partners or family feel any worse. 

Of course without knowing what caused the accident one can offer no formula for avoiding this kind of disaster.

But the temptation to preach is irresistible.

I want to say:

Please, all you climbers out there, do not assume this accident was solely the result of inexperience.  We don't know what level of experience these climbers had.  Even if in this case it turns out they were all first-timers, we all know that experienced climbers too have been injured and killed when they trusted faulty anchors.  Whatever went wrong here, do not delude yourself:  it could happen to you or me. 

Be careful out there.

The systems we employ as climbers are very simple.  But in a brief moment of complacency, or exhaustion, or distraction, it is all too easy to set up these systems incorrectly.   Here I am speaking not just of top rope anchors, but of all the systems we climbers use.  And I speak from experience.  We are all capable of failure.  Even the best of us under some circumstances will fail to double back a harness, finish a knot, lock a carabiner, or attach ourselves properly to an anchor.  Anyone can fail to ensure the ends of the rope are even or that both strands are through the rappel device.  Anyone can load a GriGri backwards. 

It can happen at any time.

Please remain vigilant.  Double-check everything.  And employ a partner check whenever you can.  A fresh set of eyes is so often helpful.  I have no idea whether it would have made any difference in this case.  But it never hurts.

I have been fortunate.  The times when I have screwed up, partners have been there watching for me.  There have been no consequences.  Others, obviously, have not always been so lucky. 

I like to think I have come through to the other side.  That I have graduated from the screw-up years.  But I know it only takes one lapse.  When you trust your weight to your gear, it has to be right every time. 

I want to do right by Stephanie.  I want to honor her memory.  I intend to do so by watching out, for myself and my partners.  And for others.  In the future I may be less prone to walk away from situations that seem unsafe, and more prone to offer some friendly advice to strangers.  It is all I can think to do.

I hope you will do the same.

Gunks Routes: Gaston (5.8-)

(Photo:  Past the pro-less start on Gaston (5.8-).)

Maryana and I were looking for something new to do on a beautiful Saturday in April, and it seemed like if we wanted something out of the ordinary our timing couldn't be better, since we might not have any choice in the matter.  We arrived at the West Trapps lot in the morning to find it was already nearly full, even though the temperature was still in the low 40's.  As we walked down the carriage road it seemed like all the usual suspect climbs were occupied.  It was the perfect occasion for us to jump on something unpopular, something obscure.

When we passed the connector trail I looked up at the cliff and saw the expected sights.  Climbers were on Arch (5.5).  Climbers were on Strictly From Nowhere (5.7).  But as usual no one was on the no-star climbs nearby: Calisthenic (5.7), Gorilla My Dreams (5.7), or Gaston (5.8-).  And no one was on Splashtic (5.10a), a climb which gets a star from Dick Williams but which seems always unoccupied because the first pitch is 5.10 and the second is 5.9 R.

I was intrigued by Splashtic, because it seemed from the description that the crux is really one move, early in the first pitch.  Looking it over on Saturday, I thought it looked doable and protectable.  Maybe this was a good 5.10 candidate for me?  I wasn't interested in the R-rated second pitch (although it sure looks exciting...) but I figured we could descend from the threaded anchor atop pitch one or continue with the upper pitches of another climb.

I was also interested in Gaston, because it has a reputation for being underappreciated and somewhat tricky for its 5.8- grade.  I'd heard the upper pitches, which are just 5.5, were also good.

Maryana thought Gaston was a better choice for a warm-up than Splashtic so we were set. 

Dick's guidebook describes the first pitch as going up a ramp and then moving right past a bulge.  Then thin climbing left past two pins was supposed to be the crux.

For me the crux of pitch one was the lack of pro low on the pitch.  There is nothing for at least fifteen feet or more.  I went up the easy ramp and then expected to find something.  But I didn't.

Then another move up and left onto a ledge.  Still pretty easy climbing, but I was still looking in vain for some placements.

Finally I found gear, but it was to the left of the route.  The climbing clearly went to the right through the bulge.  I had two pieces but they were off-line. 

After trying out a couple of different approaches I committed to the surprisingly thin holds and got through the bulge. 

Then I think I got another piece, something micro, before moving up and left to an angle piton.  (Dick mentions two pins but I guess one has since disappeared.)  I don't remember these supposed crux face moves as tricky.  There was nothing as thin as the move at the bolt on Wonderland (5.8-), for instance.  All I really remember was wishing I had more confidence in the gear. But once I clipped the pin it seemed everything would be okay.  The rest of the way I felt both the climbing and the gear were casual enough. 

At the end of the pitch I felt like in retrospect there was JUST enough pro.  And the climbing was nice; it was clean and interesting.  Maryana pointed out that I'd missed the key placement.  There is a place right below the bulge where a runner could be threaded.  You can see it in the above photo over to the right of where I have a sling connected to the blue rope.  I had pro at the same height but off to the left.  It would have been better-- I would have felt better-- if I'd found this placement. 

(Photo:  Maryana at the final overhangs on the 5.5 pitch two of Gaston.)

The next surprise on Gaston was that the threaded anchor atop pitch one was gone.  I built a gear anchor and brought Maryana up.  We had been thinking we'd rap after pitch one and go do something else, but now we were forced to do at least one more pitch.

Maryana led pitch two and it turned out to be very nice.  We both enjoyed it.  While pitch one features interesting face climbing, pitch two is more typical Gunks terrain, with good features in a huge corner system and plentiful horizontals, leading up and left to some final overhangs with jugs. 

One we reached the GT Ledge we had an easy walk over to the bolted rappel route to our left.  But I thought it was a waste not to finish the climb.  We'd come this far.  Would we ever bother to come to this spot again?  Might as well do pitch three.  It looked like a short romp up to a roof.  Why not do it?

(Photo: Most of the way through the 5.5 pitch three of Gaston.)

I led the pitch in about five minutes.  I'm glad we did it.  It reminds me of the top pitch of Minty.  It is a little harder and the move out to the roof is a bit more exposed.  But it is very similar, featuring a nice corner and then another juggy overhang.  Good fun.

I think Gaston is definitely underrated at no stars.  It has a lot of quality climbing.  Each pitch is worthwhile.  The rock is good.  It is clean.  It should have at least a star.  I think if the two 5.5 pitches were not guarded by the tricky pitch one this climb would be extremely popular with new leaders. 

As it is it should be more popular with moderate leaders of all levels of experience. 

Gunks Routes: Birdie Party (Pitch 1 5.8+) & Mother's Day Party (Pitch 1 5.10b)

(Photo: Matt starting up the first pitch of Birdie Party (5.8+).)

After Matt and I finished climbing Anguish the other week, we rapped down to find our original objective, Birdie Party, wide open.

I've been really wanting to lead it.

I followed my friend Nani up the first part of pitch one (to a bolted anchor about 80 feet up, directly above the start) two years ago. We stopped there, but Williams describes the pitch as continuing from this first set of chains to an intimidating hand traverse over a big pointy flake, going all the way to a another set of bolts and chains atop the first pitch of MF.   The face climbing up to the first set of chains is 5.8; the crux traverse is 5.8+.

In 2010 when Nani led it I was a little shocked because I'd never seen her lead something this challenging.  The climbing was well within her abilities-- she is and was a better climber than I am-- but she has never gotten totally comfortable with trad leading.  She prefers sport to trad; if she ever really embraced placing her own gear she'd be ripping it up in no time and I could spend the rest of my days following her up climbs I'll never be good enough to lead.

On the day she led Birdie Party she was thinking she would stop at the first set of bolts and then I would handle the scary traverse.  As it turned out, the first part of the pitch, up to the initial set of chains, was challenge enough for both of us.  She handled the lead with a cool head and placed plenty of gear, but this pitch has placements that are spaced far enough apart that many times a thoughtful move has to be undertaken above the last piece.  By the time Nani reached the chains I was thankful I wasn't the one on the sharp end.  And by the time I followed her up to the chains I wasn't so sure I wanted to lead the traverse.

It was a moot point, anyway, because Nani had already decided that the traverse scared the crap out of her.  She did not want to follow it.  So we were in agreement and we bailed from the first anchor.

Ever since then I've wanted to go back, and over the past year as I've improved I've been eager to lead that traverse and maybe tackle pitch two, which features a 5.10b roof, as well.

(Photo: Matt about halfway through the first pitch of Birdie Party, at the right-facing corner.)

So last Friday after my mini-disappointment on pitch one of Anguish I wanted to do this one right.

I ended up feeling pretty good about it.

The first few moves are a little hairy. You have to boulder up to a good edge right off the deck, and then you can place a small Alien or the equivalent to protect the next move. After that, you reach a little ledge and move five or six feet to the right. These moves are easy but you can't protect them. By the time you start moving across the ledge you are back in ground fall range.

Once you are through this opening bit, the pro is very good the rest of the way, straight up to the chains. But as I remembered from two years ago, the 5.8 moves are consistently thoughtful and often above the pro. The going is steep but each time you gain a good horizontal you can stick in a piece and relax/shake out a bit. The climbing is excellent, and (unsurprisingly) similar to Higher Stannard, the superb climb just to the left. Things ease off a bit as you go higher, passing a shallow right facing corner. As I passed this corner last Friday, with the first set of chains nearly in my reach, I started to eye the big scary flake.

(Photo: Matt doing the awesome traverse at the end of the first pitch of Birdie Party.)

I was a little nervous, but I soon learned there was no need for concern.  The moves up to the flake are easy, and the pro for the traverse is great.  I looped a double-length runner around the point of the flake (it seemed solid...) and got a #2 Camalot further to the right, underneath the flake just about where it merges with the wall.  And then for the rest of the traverse a perfect horizontal crack (pictured above) takes gear anywhere you want to place it.  The climbing is airy and super-fun but, I thought, very reasonable.  The early part of the pitch, close to the ground, is actually more difficult, in my opinion. 

What a great pitch!  I may have to revise my thoughts about the best 5.8 in the Gunks.  Birdie Party is certainly one of the best.  So many great moves, and variety:  challenging face climbing plus an exciting traverse. 

As I waited for Matt to join me at the belay I kept looking up at the 5.10b roof that is the crux of pitch two.  I thought maybe I could give it a go-- so long as I could get pro at the lip of the roof.  I also thought maybe we could instead do pitch two of MF, which I led last November but which Matt had never done.  But ultimately I was seduced by the easy opportunity to throw a toprope over Mother's Day Party, a 5.10b just to the left of the MF bolts.  It was too convenient not to do it.  And besides, I'd never toproped any of the 5.10's at the Mac Wall, which was another big hole I needed to fill in my climbing resume.  Toproping at the Mac Wall, what could be more traditional for the Gunkie of today?

I enjoyed Mother's Day Party.  I wasn't really paying attention to the potential gear placements, but the two cruxes were both pretty brief.  I almost felt like leading it would be reasonable.  Climbing on toprope will fool you like that; in retrospect I am pretty sure the final crux moves are rather far from the gear.  I think if I tried to lead it I'd be scared silly at the finishing moves.

On toprope I got up the initial corner and face up to a little ledge without a problem.  This part of the route almost touches MF.  Next comes the first crux, which comes right off the little ledge.  It isn't so bad.  One thin move using a right-facing flake gets you to a great jug.

Then it gets steep as you work up an orange face to a little rooflet, where the leader might find his or her final gear.  The pumpy finishing moves (second crux) up and right through the big corner take you to the chains.  I blew the footwork at the final hard move and took a fall, then went right back up and realized to my chagrin that I would have sent the route on my first try if I'd just bothered to look around at the holds for about one second longer. 

Like me, Matt took one fall when it was his turn, but his error came at a different time.  He blew the first crux and then cruised through the second.

What would it really take for me to feel ready to lead a 5.10 route like Mother's Day Party? 

Part of it, I'm sure, is confidence.  But there's more.  I'd have to be faster, so I wouldn't flame out in the cruxes.  And I'd need to be prepared to commit to the 5.10 moves.  The hard moves on Mother's Day Party aren't mysterious.  But they require moving with dynamic pushes, with momentum.  I need to get more practiced at doing those kinds of moves on lead.  I'm not sure how to acquire the practice I need without walking up to a few of these 5.10 climbs and just going for it, trying them out.    

Those Pesky Gunks Sevens!

(Photo: That's me in the yellow/green jacket past the crux on Thin Slabs Direct (5.7+).)

In my last post I discussed (and expressed skepticism about) several supposed 5.8 sandbags in the Trapps.

Then on Friday of last week, climbing with a new partner Matt, I was reminded of some other sandbags that are not so easily dismissed.

These climbs are like landmines for the unsuspecting leader. They promise smooth, moderate sailing but instead deliver moments of puzzlement and sketchitude.

I speak, of course, of those bewildering oddites otherwise known as Gunks 5.7's.

Last Friday Matt and I were hoping to jump on Birdie Party, but we found it occupied. Matt suggested we do Anguish instead since it was open and neither of us had done it. It seemed like a good idea to me.  I intended to link the first two pitches in one and take us all the way up to the GT Ledge. Matt would take the crux 5.8 pitch to the top.  I thought the first two pitches looked pretty easy, except for the new crux of the first pitch that Dick Williams described in his 2004 guidebook. Instead of the traditional route, which moved to the right over a flake/corner at 5.4, Dick now recommends a roof escape to the left at 5.7-.

I thought I remembered a thread on Gunks.com where folks had complained that this roof escape felt much harder than 5.7.  (I can't find such a thread now, so maybe it never existed.)  But I wasn't worried.  I thought it might feel like a 5.8, but so what?  I'd be fine.  How bad could it be?

Then I got up there under the roof and found out.

I had pro in the corner but it was all the way at the back.  I tried to get something in the little flaring notch at the lip of the roof but I couldn't get anything on my rack to stick. 

Then I started to pull over the roof, looking for holds, but whatever holds there were seemed very far away.

So I retreated a bit to a stance and thought it over.  Dick said escape left, I realized.  He didn't say to pull the roof directly.

Going back up, I tried to follow Dick's orders and escape left.  I got a hold of some small crimps and moved around the outside arete.  But this put me at a really pumpy stance and the next move up was far from certain.  Plus my pro was over to the right and back in the corner.  I didn't like this at all.  I retreated again.

Three or four times I tried to make my escape but on each occasion I didn't like the move or the potential fall so I came back.  And then, defeated, I finally said "screw it" and finished the pitch the 5.4 way. 

What a way to start a new climbing partnership!  Bailing on a 5.7-.

Matt led the 5.8 pitch three of Anguish and it is really very good.  It has some nice crux moves up to the overhang; then the overhang itself is a bit easier.  The rest of the way is even more casual but the gear is a little thin.  The topout requires a few easy slab moves above your pro.

I wouldn't bother to repeat pitches one and two of Anguish-- the quality moments are few, even if you include the part I skipped-- but if I were descending from another climb using the nearby Three Pines rappel route I would definitely consider running up the third pitch of Anguish again.  The pitch begins on the GT Ledge right around the corner from the bolted anchor, and once you top out it's an easy walk just a few yards over to the bolts on top of the cliff for the descent.

Later in the day, after I'd redeemed myself a bit and led some harder climbs, I mentioned how embarrassed I was to have begun the day by chickening out on a 5.7-.  Matt responded that he'd taken a fall at the tricky crux move of Baskerville Terrace (5.7) just a few weeks before-- and this right after a successful lead of Roseland (5.9)!  So I didn't have to feel too bad.  He knew what I was going through.

Those pesky sevens!

There sure seem to be a lot of "problem" sevens at the Gunks, no?  I've certainly had more 5.7 difficulties than 5.8 difficulties.  I've never bailed on a 5.8 lead.  But here I abandoned Anguish pitch one, and I also remember a couple of seasons ago trying the opening move to Trapped Like a Rat (5.7) and then abandoning that one too.  And don't even get me started on that stupid grease-pole-of-a-sandbag Laurel.  Come to think of it, I once bailed on a 5.8:  Drunkard's Delight (5.8-), but that route too was until recently considered a 5.7+! 

We finished our day last Friday with perhaps the mother of all 5.7 sandbags: Thin Slabs Direct. 

Matt led the 5.7 variation to pitch one, and wouldn't you know it, as he approached the end of the vertical crack that marks the early part of the route, I heard him muttering "Why is this so tricky??" 

And then "Watch me here!" 

But he sketched through the hard part and then took the lead all the way to the GT Ledge. 

When it was my turn to follow I was kind of shocked at how thin the first two steps off the ground were.  I wasn't sure I could even get started on the pitch.  But we all know that no matter how hard the first move is, it doesn't count as part of the difficulty rating in the Gunks.  Once I got my feet on the wall and my hands in the crack, I thought the climbing was enjoyable and, yes, kind of stiff for 5.7.

When I got near the top of the crack I saw what Matt had been concerned about.  The hands were good, but the feet were smeary.  I knew with one more reach the angle would ease off; the harder variation start would be over.  As I smeared and reached up with the security of the toprope, I thought: "nice lead!"

And:  "5.7??"

Once I got to the GT Ledge I had to confront the Thin Slabs Direct finish, which is supposedly 5.7+.  This variation has the distinction of being the only "direct" finish I can think of that is actually substantially less direct than the regular route.  It is in fact the very antithesis of "direct."  The whole point of the variation is to force the leader to traverse to the right for fifteen to twenty feet out of the way, over a terrifying drop, with slippery hands and no real footholds to speak of. 

I first attempted this pitch in 2009.  Before I got to the Direct finish, I led Sente, onsight, to start the climb.  This was my first 5.9 lead ever, which made me very proud.  Then I joined Thin Slabs up to the GT Ledge and promptly got thoroughly humbled by Thin Slabs Direct.  I remember being so pumped as I attempted it.  I found it very difficult to let go with one hand long enough to clip the three ancient pitons that line the traverse; forget about even attempting to place my own gear.  Eventually, after going out and back a few times and taking a hang in the middle, I got to the end of the traverse and managed to pull my body inelegantly onto the shelf on the main face of the cliff.  Lying there on the shelf, I was grateful I had survived the climb, but I knew it was no victory. 

I wrote a little self-deprecating piece about the experience at the time on Gunks.com (see my post at the bottom of the page).  Until last Friday I hadn't been back.

And this time, climbing Thin Slabs Direct felt... well... tough for 5.7, that's for sure.  And it was still scary, there's no doubt about that.  But mostly climbing it again made me realize how much I've improved.  If you hang off that shelf in just the right way it isn't so pumpy.  There are footholds to be found, they just aren't very big.  And if you turn your body sideways, just so, your feet can really help you, and the clipping isn't so hard.  A little technique will get you there. 

This time, once I committed to the traverse I moved right through it, coming around the corner without a hitch.  It was a great way to end the day, and it nearly erased the bad feelings I got from pitch one of Anguish.

But still, after it was over, there was no escaping one conclusion:  Thin Slabs, with both variations, is a freaking HARD 5.7.  I mean really, what is it with those Gunks sevens?

Modern Times (5.8+) and the Alleged Gunks Sandbag

(Photo: Holy bird poop, Batman!! That block on the High E ledge is really coated with guano at the moment.)

After beginning our day with the amazing double whammy of Erect Direction to CCK Direct, Dana and I started walking down the cliff. Dana was thinking about leading Obstacle Delusion (5.9).

But we didn't make it to Obstacle Delusion. Our journey was cut short at the High E buttress when Dana asked me an innocent question.

"You've done Modern Times, right?"

I had to admit that I had not.

It was a big hole in my climbing resume. Honestly, how can any self-respecting Gunks blogger NOT have climbed Modern Times (5.8+)?

It just never seemed like the right moment, I guess. On October 25, 2009, I had driven to the Gunks determined to climb Modern Times with Nani. But the climb was soaking wet after the previous night's heavy rain, so we went and did Insuhlation (5.9) instead. And you know, dear reader, how that worked out.

Since then I had never made Modern Times a priority. I figured I'd get around to it some day, but whenever I thought about doing it the climb was occupied, or I was with someone who'd done it recently, or (I may as well admit it) it seemed a little too scary.

So there we were, Dana and I, on this beautiful Saturday, standing before the climb. And it was wide open. Dana said I had to do it, and that having just led CCK Direct I would be absolutely fine.

This was just the encouragement I needed.

Dana was up to lead pitch one if I wanted him to. But it was old hat for him so he offered both pitches to me. I was more than willing to lead them both. As I set off on the 5.7 pitch one, I felt a little bit tingly all over. This was a big deal, and we'd just sort of stumbled into it. It hadn't even occurred to me that we might climb Modern Times today, on March 17, right at the start of the season.

Does any other climb have such a reputation for high quality, and for difficulty beyond its grade?

From the ground, it certainly looks terrifying. A gigantic arch guards the top of the cliff. The climber must exit to the right through the roofs at the top of the arch. The moves look huge. And these moves are above big air. It is a sheer drop of hundreds of feet to the ground.

I'd heard all the tips and the rumors. I knew not to get suckered into wasting my energy going up to the distinctive sideways tree that sits above the initial overhang. It was better, I'd heard, to stay low and move to the right. I was also aware that some kind of secret rest supposedly existed in the middle of the overhangs. I had been told, as well, that short people couldn't grab the final shelf without cutting their feet loose. Finally, I recalled hearing something about the finishing mantle being difficult, but couldn't quite remember the details. Would I find it easier to mantle up if I hand-traversed far to the right along the final ledge? Or was there some hidden pebble for my toe that I was supposed to look for?

These issues could wait, since I first had to dispense with pitch 1.

I found this pitch to be kind of humdrum. The climbing is clean and pleasant in much the same way that the 5.4 pitch one of No Glow is clean and pleasant. Which is to say it is rather unremarkable. And it seemed a bit soft to me for 5.7. The little ceiling at the end of the pitch, which I suppose is the crux, is easier in my opinion than the one on first pitch of the neighboring climb The Last Will Be First (5.6). Nothing wrong with the pitch, but nothing to write home about either.

(Photo: I asked Dana to get a photo of me on Modern Times, and all I got was this lousy t-shirt: a blurry shot of the overhang, sans climber. Now I have no proof I actually climbed it!)

Here's another dark secret about Modern Times: pitch two isn't the greatest either, at least until you get to the overhang. All the climbing up until the crux is pretty easy, and the pro isn't optimal. You start up a right-facing corner. I got in a little nut near the bottom. You could put gear at the top of the corner as well, but I chose not to because I didn't want unnecessary drag as I moved to the right. Then as the climb moves towards the top of the arch you ascend a massive left-facing flake, which turns out to be less a flake than a big stack of blocks leaning against the face of the cliff. These blocks probably aren't going anywhere (they are quite large), but still I wasn't thrilled about the idea of placing any pieces in between them, instead finding the few placements I could in the wall to the left and behind the blocks.

If I arrived at the crux wondering what the fuss was all about, my doubts were immediately dispelled by a glance at the next sequence.

The path upward is easy to spot-- I don't know why anyone is suckered into going up to the tree. Probably these tree-huggers know they are making a mistake, but don't wish to confront the alternative: committing to the correct path by leaning waaaaay out over an empty expanse to the first holds, which takes quite the gut check.

I certainly hesitated a bit, though less than I did at the crux of CCK Direct. The pro is great. I placed pieces (with extended slings) in both the undercling crack under the roof and out by the first of the roof holds before I committed to the moves.

And once I leaned out to the first hold, it was on! A quick couple of moves on jugs led to the mid-point, where I was able to place another dynamite cam-- you have a big horizontal and a vertical crack to work with here.

I think this is the "secret rest" spot, and I may even have unlocked the secret by propping up a left foot on a high hold and dropping my knee while I placed a cam. But I didn't stop afterwards to try to contrive a real rest, because it was just one more move to the final overhang. The end was near and there was no reason to wait.

Moving up to the final shelf, I saw absolutely no need to cut the feet-- the footholds were great throughout, actually. And there was no trick to the mantle either, as far as I could tell. There is a great little horizontal crack for a high step at any number of locations. Get your weight over the high foot and push up, people!

I hope that by attempting to dispel a few myths about Modern Times I don't make it sound like the climb is not wonderful. To the contrary, the crux sequence consists of four or five of the most exhilarating moves the Gunks has to offer. I found the crux absolutely thrilling. Once I successfully mantled up to the shelf, I let out the biggest yell ever.

And the shelf onto which you emerge is perhaps the best belay spot in the Gunks. You are still 20 or 30 feet from the top, and you can keep going and belay above in the trees if you like. If you have any doubt about your partner's ability to climb through the roofs, however, you'd be advised to belay from the shelf so you can coach your partner on the art of prussik ascending when he or she falls off and can't get back on.

I had no such doubts about Gunks institution Dana Bartlett, of course, but I couldn't resist building a belay and having a seat on this perfect little park bench in the sky. Sitting there, I could reflect on the scenery and the sensational climbs we'd already knocked off on this great early season Saturday.

(Photo: Looking down pitch one of Carbs and Caffeine, which is either 5.8 or 5.9-, depending on who you believe.)

As I sat there reflecting, I decided that Modern Times is not a sandbag at 5.8+. I came to the conclusion that it was easier for me than CCK Direct so I guessed the 5.8+ was about right. The crux of Modern Times also features the type of climbing (overhanging jugs) that we gym climbers of today are accustomed to, so really the rating should be uncontroversial. I think the only reason people consider it such a sandbag is its rather incredible position and exposure, which don't exactly make the moves more difficult but which certainly add to the overall challenge.

I actually think I experienced two bigger 5.8 sandbags in the very same weekend I climbed Modern Times.

The first was Dirty Gerdie, the supposed 5.8+ that ascends the middle of the face of Gerdie Block. I had put a toprope over this climb twice before, the last time two years ago. This year's attempt (on my wet Friday in the Gunks with Franz) was the first time I ever managed to climb it cleanly on the first try. It is tough to get the first crux move, which involves matching a foot to one hand while trying to reach ever-so-slowly with the other hand up a featureless face for an invisible, tiny crimp. The next move, smearing the feet on nothing at all while locking off and reaching for a jug, is no picnic either.

5.8+? My ass.

The second 5.8 sandbag of the weekend was the first pitch of Carbs and Caffeine, which Dick simply calls plain old 5.8-- no plus sign. I led it later in the day with Dana after Modern Times. It was my first time doing the pitch and if you take a look at the picture above (click on it to enlarge) you may notice that I placed a rather large number of protective pieces. This was because I thought it was hard and that I might slip off, pretty much the whole way up! The entire pitch involves off-vertical thin face climbing, and I felt insecure, especially at the crux finishing moves, where the hands are not so positive and the footholds are the tiniest indentations. The protection crack at the crux takes only micronuts; I managed to slot two of them. Luckily I didn't slip and test the nuts, but I thought they were good.

I felt sandbagged by Carbs and Caffeine, maybe even more so than by Dirty Gerdie. When I found out that Swain calls it 5.9- I felt somewhat vindicated.

But maybe I was wrong about both Dirty Gerdie and Carbs and Caffeine. Maybe these climbs just involve specific skills that I'm less comfortable with. The foot/hand match that I employed on Dirty Gerdie, for example, is a popular solution to many Gunks climbs with long reaches between good edges, and the entry level for this move seems to be 5.8. (Think of both Arrow and Three Doves.) You won't find this move much in a gym, which adds to its unfamiliarity for today's climbers. To the experienced Gunkie maybe it isn't a big deal at all.

And of course the same can be said for less-than-vertical thin face climbing. You won't find anything like it in a gym, so it's no surprise a climber like me feels insecure doing it. When I lowered to the ground and watched Dana follow my lead of Carbs and Caffeine I learned that slabby climbing can feel more slippery than it really is. I could see just how much of his shoe was in contact with the rock in the places where I thought I was standing on nothing. Maybe I wasn't as close to sliding off as I feared I was.

It all depends on what you're used to. But Modern Times? We're all used to the type of climbing you'll find on that one. It's really exciting, but it's no sandbag.