Gunks Routes: Blistered Toe (Direct 5.9+) & Double Crack (5.8)

(Photo:  Gail getting started on Higher Stannard (5.9-).)

A pattern has started to develop.

I go to the Gunks.

I pick a 5.10 to try.

I struggle.

I back off of that 5.10 and do something else.

At the beginning of July this was what happened when I decided to try Simple Stuff (5.10a) with Gail. It was a super-hot, miserable day. We had planned on just doing a half day and had started early to beat the heat, doing the first pitch of Higher Stannard (5.9-) at 6:30 a.m.

I really enjoyed doing Higher Stannard again. It was one of my favorites last year and it was just as good the second time around. It was a little stiff for a warm-up but I cruised through the thin crux, feeling strong. It seemed like a good omen.

Then we trooped on down the cliff to Simple Stuff.

It is an unusual climb for the Gunks. It is no jug-haul, but rather features a sustained stemming corner. It is one of those climbs people mention as a good early 5.10, I think because there is pro available in the corner almost the whole way to the chains. Others, however, think it is a bad choice for an early 5.10 because it is sustained, and because people have gotten hurt when they have fallen in the initial moves, cracking ankles before getting established in the corner.

(Photo: The overhanging corner ascended by Simple Stuff (5.10a).)

I didn't get very far. Climbing up to the first difficult moves, I was very careful to place pro often. I got through a hard move and found the position very pumpy. I had a solid nut but I wanted to place something higher up before committing to the next bit. Unfortunately I could not get anything I had real confidence in. I tried getting another nut but I couldn't make it stick. Then I tried a small C3, eventually working it into a crack but not feeling really happy about it. By this point I had worn myself out and took a hang. The C3 creaked a bit, which was disconcerting. I did not relish the thought of taking a fall onto it.

It was suddenly so hot outside. I was drenched with sweat. This climb was just beginning and I was already struggling, climbing scared, very tentative. I wasn't at all sure I was ready for this.

I decided this wasn't my time for Simple Stuff. I left the bomber nut as insurance and downclimbed to the ground.

(Photo:  Happy to have finally cleared the bulge on Blistered Toe Direct (5.9+).)

Still hoping to wring some progress from the day, I suggested to Gail that we do the nearby Blistered Toe Direct, a climb which had defeated me last year. I had tried it with Parker, making the first hard move up to the horizontal. But I hadn't found a way to get over the bulge that completes the direct start.

This time I hoped to get it done. And eventually I did. But not without a few false starts.

Depending on your height, the direct start has either one or two hard moves. If you are short like me, it is a challenge just to step up onto the wall and reach a good crimp that will allow you to reach up to the good horizontal. If you are tall, I envy you because you can just reach the crimp or maybe even the horizontal from the ground. Whether you are tall or short, you can protect the first move with a great nut placed over your head from the ground. (Clip it short by just placing a single biner on the nut.) Then you can get a good cam once you reach the horizontal.

The next move is what still gave me trouble. A pebbly ball of rock looks good but is very hard to use effectively. I struggled with it a couple of times before a little advice from Gail on turning my body and getting my feet up got me to the breakthrough.

Finally! I could put this 5.9+ in the bank. Next time I hope it will seem easy.

This direct start is a worthwhile little puzzle, I think, and the payoff is that the rest of the first pitch of Blistered Toe is awesome. It isn't a long pitch but it is steep and fun, with some nice layback moves and reaches up a natural line to a ledge with a bolted anchor off to the left. Considered without the direct start, Blistered Toe is one of the better 5.7 climbs in the Trapps, I'd say. And the direct start makes it even better. It is an under-appreciated small gem.

After we were done with Blistered Toe, Gail suggested Double Crack, a climb I had led once back in 2009. I thought it was great back then and nothing about my experience in 2012 changed my opinion. Back in the day people would do a belay at a small ledge part of the way up the cliff but nowadays most everyone does the climb as one sustained 150 foot pitch. The hardest part comes early, in the first 20 feet, but even though the angle thereafter eases off a touch, it remains steep and consistent the whole way to the finish. Classic Gunks-style climbing, with overhanging reaches between good holds.

I wouldn't recommend Double Crack when it is nearly 100 degrees out, however. It seemed to go on and on. At one point Gail told me that I was glistening in the sun, I was sweating so much. I think I lost several pounds of water weight on this climb.

As we left the cliff I questioned whether we really should have come out at all. Climbing in the miserable heat can get you down. After just half a day I was exhausted and happy to call it quits.

Gunks Routes: Unnamed (Pitch 1 5.0), Dis-Mantel (5.10b) & Dat-Mantel (5.10b)

(Photo:  Gail giving Dis-Mantel (5.10b) a try.)

Did I mention that I am on vacation?

I am at the beach. I cannot go rock climbing.

But I am going to try to catch up on my posting.

I have been on the hunt for the easy 5.10 climbs at the Gunks. The climbs on the Mantel block seemed like maybe they would be good candidates. They are short climbs up the sixty-foot block, with roof cruxes.

But those one-move cruxes can be stiff for the grade. I was also worried that these climbs might not be very good, a waste of time.

I had bugged Gail to do these climbs with me for the last few months. We finally got around to them on Friday.

I decided to start with Dis-Mantel, the climb on the right. From the ground it seemed to me that I could get pro in the flake at the first, 5.10b roof. And I thought I might have better luck on Dis-Mantel than on the climb to the left; the roof on Dat-Mantel looked incredibly large.

the early moves up to the first roof on Dis-Mantel were simple enough. But the pro in the flake at the lip was kind of iffy. I got a green Camalot to sit in there but I wasn't absolutely sure about it. I had a rock solid piece back where the roof met the wall but I wanted something higher. There was absolutely no pro up over the roof.

I can't remember if I ever really tested that green Camalot. What I do remember is that I couldn't figure out the move at all. I kept going up and climbing down, trying this and trying that. There was a good hold that was very very far away. I'd read that the climb was height-dependent but this was ridiculous. I couldn't figure out how anyone could reach it. I tried under-clinging the roof, I tried using the flake as a side pull. I tried holding on to various parts of the shallow left-facing corner above the roof. I tried using a little fingerlock seam below the jug. Eventually I decided to give up, climb down a few moves and try Dat-Mantel to the left.

(Photo:  Getting the holds above the lip of the roof on Dat-Mantel (5.10b).)

I found a few interesting moves on my way over to the Dat-Mantel roof. I was still below the roof, confronting a thin move up an orange face, when I realized that I didn't have any of my big cams. I'd left my blue # 3 in my bag and I'd somehow used both my red # 1 and my yellow # 2 below. I could see that I needed at least one bigger cam for the horizontal beneath the roof. And who knew what I might need above?

I was trying to decide what to do about this problem when it started raining.

This was the excuse I needed. Things weren't exactly going in my direction anyway. I decided to bail. I backed up my top piece and had Gail lower me, thinking when the rain stopped one of us could go up Unnamed, the climb that ascends the left side of the Mantel block at 5.0, to set up a top rope and retrieve the gear.

When I got to the ground the rain stopped before it even really began. So I led up Unnamed, a climb that has a 5.3 second pitch above the Mantel block. The first pitch, which goes up the left side of the block, is just 5.0. It isn't bad climbing for 5.0. It's better than Dirty Chimney, for sure. The pro is a little funky. There are big vertical cracks but they are flaring. At one point there are three old pitons hammered into one crack, right on top of one another. Maybe they were put in as practice placements, forty or fifty years ago?

Up atop the block is a stone with several ratty old slings and a couple of newish ones threaded. This anchor is well placed for Dat-Mantel. You don't even need a directional.

Gail took the first stab at Dat-Mantel on toprope. She looked a little shaky at the thin move up the orange face below the roof, where I had given up the lead. Then I got the benefit of watching her figure out the huge overhang, which surely helped me when it was my turn. Still, I was happy with how it went when it was my turn. I figured out an easier way to get through the orange face. And I went at the roof a little differently than she did. She crimped up to the horizontal above the roof using some holds that looked truly awful. I had a notion that it would be easier to get up there if I moved a little to the right and this turned out to be a good call. Then I threw a heel, pivoted up, and presto-- I had done it on the first try.

Dat-Mantel is a nice little climb. There are a few nice moves below the roof, and then the roof itself is a good challenge. It is well-protected, too. There is a good slot right where the underside of the roof meets the wall, and then once you get the horizontal above the roof, but before you attempt pulling over, you can get another solid placement. I wish I had been more insistent on going ahead with the lead of this climb. If I'd tried it first instead of Dis-Mantel maybe I would have done it.

I hope to go back this year and send Dat-Mantel on lead.

Dis-Mantel, on the other hand, remains a mystery, and I don't think I will be heading back to lead it. Neither Gail nor I could figure it out, even on top rope. (We set it up from the same threaded station, using a directional placement.) And I'm still not sure how I feel about that cam in the flake at the crux roof. There aren't any cracks for pro above the roof, so even if the cam in the flake holds I don't really like the thought of the fall at that roof if you blow it on lead. The second (5.8) roof also looks to have funky pro. Each of us tried it on top rope by cheating around the first roof to the right, doing the Kernmantle crux before heading left to the second Dis-Mantel roof. Gail had no problem with the second roof but I was so hot and tired by the time I got up there that I blew it once before pulling through it on the second try.

If someone would take me up Dis-Mantel and show me what I'm doing wrong, I'd appreciate it! I still feel reasonably good about the effort. I was safe about it, explored around the roof without losing control, and climbed down when I correctly decided I was out of my depth.

Gunks Routes: Osteo-Path (5.6), Raunchy (5.8)

I have been remiss.

I have not been posting.

Mostly this is because I haven't been climbing much. I have been too busy, it has been much too hot, and when I have gotten out to climb the weather hasn't been terribly cooperative. One day a few weeks ago when I went climbing with Maryana we got in just two pitches before it rained all afternoon. (More on that later.)

At times I have felt like this whole year is going to be a bust. I have no time to climb, and when I do get time to climb it is 100 degrees or raining. I've been thinking I need to do something to change my circumstances, so I can climb whenever the mood strikes me. I have a great idea for a blockbuster novel I may write. This literary work will put me on easy street and give me the freedom to climb whenever I want. It will be an erotic story, about a shy young woman who gets involved with an Eskimo who opens her eyes to all sorts of bizarre sexual adventures.

The title: "50 Words For Snow."

I think it will be a big hit.

Last Friday at the start of my family's week of vacation I actually got a full day in the Gunks, with Gail, for what seemed like the first time in a long while. It was hot and humid, but not unbearable. There was a chance of rain but we got lucky as the only storm we saw all day passed us by, hitting us with only a drop or two, as we struggled with the climbs on the Mantel block. (More on that later).

As we hit the mid afternoon I was feeling kind of pooped, and I thought it might be time to pack it in. But then the sun went behind the cliff and with the cooler shady atmosphere I felt a small surge of energy. I suggested we do something easy and Gail mentioned Stop the Presses, Mr. Williams, a climb with a 5.8+ R-rated roof. Gail was thinking we'd do the 5.6 variation. This variation avoids the R-rated roof on Stop the Presses, instead moving right and following a crack over a bulge.

Although Dick Williams doesn't give this variation a name in his guidebook, the crack is described as a distinct climb called Osteo-Path in the Swain book. It looked to me like it might be interesting, so I gave it a whirl.

I thought the beginning of Stop the Presses was okay. It moves up a left-facing corner. The chief difficulty comes in avoiding sticking your shoe in the mud and pine needles at the base of the corner.

Once you reach the top of the corner, still a ways away from the roof, it is time to move to the right about 7 or 8 feet to the obvious vertical seam. After a few moves the seam widens to a finger crack and the crack heads up and to the right through a bulge and over a blank white face. Once the crack ends you find yourself joining Raunchy's final moves to the ledge and belay tree.

I was delighted with the finger crack portion of the pitch. I was reminded of Little Cottonwood Canyon for a minute there. I wish we had more climbs in the Gunks with this kind of movement: fingers locked into a vertical crack, with no real holds outside the crack and precise footwork required. Unfortunately the crack peters out in about two moves.

Despite its brevity the Osteo-Path variation is well worth doing. I think it is a little stiff for 5.6. I would be glad to do it again, but I think it would be more fun to approach it from Raunchy, doing the thin face at the beginning of that climb, moving up and around the corner, and then heading straight into the Osteo-Path crack instead of going back right to the Raunchy corner.

From the tree we decided to do the second pitch of Raunchy (5.8), which neither of us had done before. This was again Gail's suggestion but she must have read my mind, because I've been wanting to do this pitch for a while. I have been curious about several of the second pitches in this area, on climbs like Stop the Presses and High Times, none of which anyone ever seems to do.

Dick describes the second pitch of Raunchy as starting with a 5.5 move onto the face. He also grants permission for the climber to use the belay tree to get started. I didn't want to resort to using the tree but I ultimately used it because I didn't have the recommended ball nut to protect the move and I didn't want to crash right down onto the ledge.

Once I got onto the wall I found out that while the initial climbing on this pitch is easy, the pro is not PG like Dick says. I couldn't find anything at all for at least 25 feet or so, until at last I got a bomber red # 1 Camalot. Then after that one piece I had to run it out at least another twenty feet, back into ledge fall range, before I found another placement. All of this was in 5.3 territory, but still I was not happy about it. Later, on rappel, I saw that I missed a placement early in the pitch in a shallow left-facing corner just to the right of the route. But even if you get this placement, be warned that the runouts on Raunchy's pitch two are substantial.

Once I got past the runouts I had to confront the shitty rock below the crux. There is a hollow flaky thing that is like a long towel rack, attached at the ends to the cliff but seemingly not fixed into place anywhere along its length of at least twenty or so feet. I started to thread a runner behind this thing and then thought better of it.

Worse than the hollow towel rack were the loose plates just below the crux. These plates form the obvious footholds as you start the crux moves, but when I touched one and it moved, I had a terrible vision of the plate-- which was about the size of a half-sheet pan-- hurtling down towards Gail, who was helplessly tethered to the tree. I stepped down and marked this plate with a chalked "X," then went back up to the crux to discover that the next plate over was also loose. But I was committed at this point and didn't try to go back to mark the second loose plate.

After all that, the crux was actually really fun. At the roof, if you move left there is an old pin to clip and a perfect placement to back it up right next to it. Good juggy moves take you right and up through the overhang, with another great horizontal for pro about halfway though. The crux was nothing but good times and probably a bit soft for 5.8.

But just when I was starting to enjoy the pitch it went sour on me again. The last bits up to the GT Ledge are heavily overgrown. You fight to the belay tree through a jungle.

All in all I think pitch two of Raunchy isn't worth doing. The crux is nice, and might offset the weeds and the runouts, but for me the crappy rock just below the crux seals it. I don't have any intention of maneuvering through there again, and I don't think you should either.

A Visit to Little & Big Cottonwood Canyons, Part Two

(Photo:  Pitch one of Crescent Crack (5.7).)

On day three of our Cottonwoods adventure Adrian and I headed back one more time to Little Cottonwood Canyon.  Our objective was the Crescent Crack Buttress, which sits very close to the mouth of the canyon.  We hoped to do the multi-pitch classic Crescent Crack (5.7), the single-pitch Monkey Crack (5.10a), and if we had time a few other climbs as well.

Crescent Crack

I expected to find on Crescent Crack (5.7) the same kind of high-quality moderate climbing we'd been doing for the past two days.  I thought the crux would come at the climb's unique feature: the off-width crack on pitch two.  I generously volunteered Adrian to lead it.  My plan was for him to cruise the off-width and then I would pray that I could get through it on toprope.  Internet posts about the route suggested that people without off-width experience (like me) suffered on this pitch.  But other posts from seasoned climbers suggested it was not a big deal for those (like Adrian) with the slightest bit of off-width acumen.

I led pitch one and it was a good time, following opposing vertical cracks up to a fun easy chimney.  After a few jitters on the smooth face at the start I settled comfortably into the lead.

From the belay atop pitch one I couldn't see the off-width.  But as Adrian climbed up to it, I could hear his reaction.

"This thing looks awful!" he said.

Then he moved up into it. 

After what sounded like some kind of struggle, he had to take.

He started up again with the same sad result.

I still couldn't see him, but I heard him say "I'm not sure I really want to do this."

Luckily there were two bolts atop a different climb next to the off-width.  I suggested Adrian bring me up, and when I finally got to see the wide crack I didn't really feel like leading it either.  So we decided to bail.  We knew a single rap with our double ropes would get us to the ground.

I now regret bailing.  I could have led that off-width.  I knew what to do.  If I slid my right side into the crack I could have used the lip of the crack as a handrail.  But standing there at the time I doubted myself, and I figured if Adrian couldn't do it then I couldn't either. Only when we discussed the climb later did I learn Adrian was facing the wrong way.  (Someone we met later said that facing the wrong way made the off-width a 5.10a.)  If I'd spoken up at the time Adrian likely could have led it, or better yet maybe I would have done it. 

(Photo:  Our ropes hopelessly tangled below Crescent Crack.)

Abandoning the climb led to a karmic breakdown.  During our raps somehow our two ropes twisted around each other dozens of times and became so tightly wrapped together that we couldn't unravel them (or move them at all) from below.  I have never seen this happen before and I don't know the reason for it, although naturally I do assume it was in some way my fault.

We tried for what must have been an hour to move the ropes, with no success.  Then we decided to walk back to the road.  Maybe we could go to town and buy another rope so we could continue climbing.  Or maybe we'd see some other climbers who might have a better idea. 

I didn't expect to see other climbers, however, as we were climbing on a weekday and hadn't seen a soul all morning.  I thought our day was pretty much ruined.

But then our luck turned.  As we started to put our gear in the car, another pair drove up planning to climb Crescent Crack!  They were more than willing to help us get our ropes back.  All we had to do was wait for them to climb up to the off-width and untangle the ropes from above. 

In the end our tangled ropes cost us a few hours, but at least we didn't have to leave them behind.  And the next pitch was probably the best of our whole trip.

Mexican Crack & Crack in the Woods

(Photo: A leader late in the day starting up the awkward, pumpy dihedral at the beginning of Mexican Crack (5.10a).  We saw this party after we'd climbed it and came back for our packs.)

Once we had our ropes back we trooped uphill to the base of Mexican Crack (5.10a).  The start looked tough, up a steep corner.  Although the guidebook rates this section as 5.9, the climber who helped us get our ropes back described it as the crux of the route.

Adrian got through it with some wide stemming I wasn't sure I could replicate.  Then he went out of sight and almost made it all the way to the anchor, taking a lead fall very close to the end before finishing the route.

(Photo:  Adrian past the tricky dihedral start of Mexican Crack (5.10a), about to go out of sight up the face.)

When it was my turn I approached the corner differently.  I ended up sticking my shoulder into the corner as opposition for the good footholds out left, until I got high enough to get my right foot onto the right wall.  (This was similar to the way we saw a leader do it later, see the photo above.)  After a few moves some juggy holds got me to the stance.  I was happy to have made it through this section without falling, because I did not want to do it again.  It was steep and strenuous. 

The rest of the climb was a joy, up a face with a couple of big moves, and then the crowning glory-- a perfect handcrack going up and diagonally left to the anchor.  I was mystified by the lack of footholds until Adrian suggested I stick a foot in the crack (duh).  It was very enjoyable but steep and relentless.  I had high hopes of making it to the anchor but I got pumped out just shy of the finish and took a hang right where Adrian fell while leading.

I would be thrilled to come back to Little Cottonwood Canyon just to lead this pitch.  Such great stuff.

(Photo:  Adrian doing the step across to the vertical crack on Crack in the Woods (5.9).)

After Mexican Crack, we finished our day with Crack in the Woods (5.9).  We were hoping to continue with Hand Jive (5.8), but there was another party on it.  By the late afternoon the Crescent Crack area was full of climbers.  The easy, short approach makes this a good after-work crag. 

Crack in the Woods was pleasant.  The crack-climbing part is a bit short.  The only really notable thing about it is that I should have led it but I did not.  I handed the lead over to Adrian then found it very straightforward as the second and cursed myself. 

We tried to toprope the adjacent Crank in the Woods (5.11d) but both of us failed to find any way to make it over the roof.

Big Cottonwood Canyon: Outside Corner

(Photo:  Getting started on Outside Corner (5.7).)

On our final day we finally made it to Big Cottonwood Canyon.  We had to be at the airport by mid-afternoon so we chose a limited objective:  Outside Corner (5.7), a four-pitch route often done in three.

I led the first two pitches together and it was like a homecoming for me.  This 5.7 felt like a romp because even though the quartzite in Big Cottonwood Canyon is slippery, unlike granite it has HOLDS.  It has EDGES.  This was the kind of climbing I could relate to.  After the first few minutes I felt very comfortable on the rock and had a wonderful time.

I don't have much to say about the experience other than that the route was really enjoyable.  Great climbing, with tremendous exposure, up a 400-foot buttress.  I wish we had more time to explore other climbs in the canyon.  Outside Corner ended the trip on a high note. 

(Photo: Adrian starting pitch three of Outside Corner.  This is likely the technical crux, with one committing move up into a short handcrack at the beginning of the pitch.)

(Photo:  Following pitch three of Outside Corner, up the exposed arete.)

(Photo:  Getting started on pitch four (north face variation) of Outside Corner.  This may be the mental crux, as good holds and edges take you up and right, steeply, over a vast emptiness.)

(Photo:  Climbing the beautiful twin vertical cracks on pitch four of Outside Corner.)

(Photo:  Adrian arriving at the final overhangs at the top of Outside Corner.)

A Visit to Little & Big Cottonwood Canyons, Part One

(Photo:  A view towards the mouth of Little Cottonwood Canyon from the top of Schoolroom West (5.7).)

Last week I got to spend four days climbing with Adrian near Salt Lake City.  It was a wonderful experience, but also a humbling experience. 

We were blessed with four straight days of bluebird skies and temperatures in the seventies.

The terrain in the Cottonwoods is glorious.  The canyons go on for miles and miles.  They feature steep rocky walls interspersed with tree-filled slopes.  Larger snow-capped mountains are visible above the ridge line.  The air is filled with a wonderful fresh aroma, as if the creator sprayed a giant can of piny Febreze over the whole area.  During our visit beautiful purple and yellow wildflowers were everywhere in bloom.

The climbing is great.  So great, in fact, that the Cottonwoods caused me to question some of the bedrock assumptions of my climbing life.

We Gunks climbers hold certain truths to be self-evident, and we repeat these bits of wisdom to anyone who will listen.

We claim that the Gunks has the best moderate climbs, and that Gunks ratings are tougher than everywhere else.

At some level I've always known these dogmatic pronouncements to be the product of chauvinism and regional pride, but the Cottonwoods really opened my eyes to how ludicrous such statements are.

There are fantastic moderate climbs in the Cottonwoods.  We did several of them.  It seemed like we constantly hit the jackpot, like we were picking the very best options in the canyon, but I know the reality is that there are many other classics.  We were only scratching the surface of what we could do. 

And these climbs are hard.  They aren't easy romps with one good move.  To the contrary, the climbs have consistent challenges, and all too often (it seemed like it happened on every one of my leads) the climbs we tried featured at least one total puzzler of a crux that had me cursing about being sandbagged.

Little Cottonwood Canyon

Three of our four days were spent in Little Cottonwood Canyon, climbing on granite.  (Technically it is quartz monozite but everyone calls it granite.)  Prior to this trip I had just one day's experience on granite, on Moby Grape (5.8) at Cannon Cliff in NH in 2010.  During our time in Utah I always felt outside my comfort zone on the slabs and vertical cracks that characterize this kind of stone.  I spent the first day backing off of leads when I got scared, but by the end of our time in the canyon I must have improved at least a little, since I left feeling I was being too conservative about leading harder climbs and wishing I'd gone for it a bit more on our last days. 

Satan's Corner (5.8+)

(Photo:  Adrian past the first crux of Satan's Corner (5.8+) and into the second; there are two more cruxes to come.)

We started our first day looking for Pentapitch (5.8), but discovered when we parked at the power plant that there was no longer a bridge across the stream.  With no way to get to our climb, we drove back downhill to the nearest lot and, seeing climbers above, decided to just hike up and ask them what was good. 

After a somewhat sketchy "third class" approach, we were informed that we were in the Beckey's Wall/Tingey's Terror area.  The climbers we spoke to suggested we try Satan's Corner, which they described as a sandbagged 5.8+, ascending a broken crack system to a horn and then following a ramp up to a final exposed traverse to the anchor.  I assumed I would be fine leading it.  After all, I can hop on any 5.8 in the Gunks without worrying too much.  (I've been dipping my toe in Gunks 5.10's, for goodness' sake.)  But I started up Satan's Corner and upon arriving at the initial cruxy wide vertical crack I felt immediately uncomfortable.  This climb was actually more Gunks-like than most of the climbs we did in Little Cottonwood Canyon-- it had footholds outside the crack and the occasional jug.  But the texture of the granite freaked me out.  It felt unfamiliar.  I had no confidence in my feet.  After eyeing that flaring vertical crack a while I reluctantly asked Adrian to lower me and take over.  He led it just fine but it didn't seem easy for him.

(Photo:  Arriving at the top of Satan's Corner as the second.)

Doing it as the second, I fell out trying to jam that scary opening crack.  Then I laid it back instead and the rest went fine.  What with the tough initial crack, some steep climbing with jugs, a tricky ramp and an exposed final traverse, this was a very high quality pitch.  And if this was 5.8 in the Cottonwoods, it was something of a wake-up call.  5.8 here was going to be no joke.

Tarzan (Sweet Jane variation) to Tingey's Terror (5.7)

(Photo:  Adrian leading the Sweet Jane variation (5.7) start to Tarzan.  His foot is on a jug I couldn't reach to start the pitch.)

Next we moved over to Tingey's Terror, a multipitch route that we hoped to take to the top.  We had to do an approach climb first (Tarzan-- Sweet Jane variation (5.7)), and again I felt unable to commit to the crack that started the pitch and asked Adrian to take over.  I led a second 5.7 pitch (finally, I led something!) that brought us to the real business.

(Photo:  Adrian very pleased to have clipped the first bolt on the runout slab of Tingey's Terror, pitch 2 (5.7)). 

The next pitch was what Tingey's Terror was named for:  a blank slab pitch with long runouts.  The guidebook claimed this pitch had been tamed by the addition of a third bolt, but from the belay I thought it still looked plenty dangerous.  A long traverse (we're talking 25-30 feet) led to bolt number one.  It looked bad for both the leader and the follower, but particularly ugly for the leader, who would pendulum hard into a corner if he fell just before the bolt. 

I was set to abandon the climb but Adrian had a good idea.  He proposed to downclimb a bit to where he could easily cross to a 5.8 variation that went straight up to the first bolt.  He could place pro on this variation, so that even though he'd have a bit of a runout to the first bolt, he would fall straight down if he blew it instead of taking an awful sideways swing. 

It was very smart and worked out really well for both of us.  The runout slab pitch turned out to be pretty easy.  The angle was low and there were lots of features to be found for the feet if you looked around.  Still, you couldn't pay me to lead it... maybe with a little more slab practice.

(Photo:  I'm leading a 5.6 bit up and over leftwards to a 5.8 variation crack/roof traverse finish to Tingey's Terror.  It felt easy so I may have skipped all the actual 5.8 on it.  It was fun with good pro.)

I got another lead in before we finished with Tingey's Terror and then we rapped down without incident.

(Photo:  Adrian following the variation final pitch to Tingey's Terror.)

Becky's Wall (5.7)

(Photo:  Setting off up Beckey's Wall (5.7).)

By the time we got down from Tingey's Terror I was feeling a bit more comfortable and was eager to lead something else.  Beckey's Wall didn't disappoint.  The guidebook says it is "probably the best 5.7 in the canyon."  It was definitely our best single pitch of the day (really the first two traditional pitches combined in one).  Following a superb natural line, the route climbs a corner up a low angle slab until the slab dead-ends at a perfect vertical flake that goes straight up for about another 50 feet.

(Photo:  Looking down from the top of the traditional pitch two of Beckey's Wall (5.7).)

Although the guidebook claims Beckey's Wall is hard to protect early on, I sewed it up with nuts and Aliens.  (Believe me, it was much much tamer than Tingey's Terror!)  The low-angle slab seemed pretty casual and the vertical flake was awesome, with no jamming required.  

The Green Adjective (Direct 5.10a) & Perhaps (5.7)

(Photo:  The Perhaps area, including Perhaps (5.7) and The Green Adjective (5.10a).  This photo was shot while on rappel from Schoolroom West (5.7).)

On our second day we went back to the same parking lot and walked a little further to the Perhaps area.  Adrian was really psyched to check out The Green Adjective, a well-known 5.9 slab with a finger crack and an optional 5.10a start.  Having gotten our bearings a bit the day before, we had no trouble finding the climb.

(Photo:  Adrian past the 5.10a start and into the 5.9 bit on The Green Adjective.)

This was Adrian's most impressive lead of the trip.  He opted for the 5.10a start and sent it onsight.  He had recently spent twelve days in Yosemite and it showed.  He was really solid.

The climb protects well, although the initial pro is micro.  Thereafter (as you can see above) there are lots of placements.  The 5.8 start to the right seemed by contrast to have no opportunities for gear.

When it was my turn I thought the climb at first seemed impossible.  I expected a finger crack but the seam initially provided little more than a few slippery edges.  And there were no footholds at all.  But with sharpened eyes some bumps on the wall for the feet could be discerned.  I slid off once just a few steps into the climb, but after starting over, I made it through the hard part, and then all the way to the top without a fall.  Maybe I was finally starting to get the granite.  Adrian and I each took another toprope run just for kicks.  Great moves on perfect bullet-hard stone. 

(Photo:  I'm leading pitch two of Perhaps (5.7).  The climber to my left is toproping Gordon's Hangover (5.9).)

After The Green Adjective we turned to Perhaps (5.7), which goes in two or three pitches. 

The crux of Perhaps comes in pitch one.  It is pretty easy going up an initial corner, but then a thin slab traverse past a piton leads to a bolted anchor.  It is kind of a reach just to clip the piton, and then two or three really tense steps of pure friction get you to a good foothold around a right-facing corner, a crack, and some more gear.  I thought this slab was harder than anything on Tingey's.  It didn't feel much different than the Green Adjective to me, frankly, although I know it is much less steep.  I think I was fortunate to lead this because in my opinion the fall and the intimidation factor are worse for the second, who has to make the crux moves after cleaning the placement at the piton. 

(Photo:  Further along the Perhaps traverse, which is not as low-angle as it appears here.)

After the tense pitch one, the rest of Perhaps follows a beautiful and unusual natural line, which goes straight up a corner, then traverses far to the right, then finally downclimbs to the anchor above pitch one of The Green Adjective  (see beta photo above).  For much of the way you're underclinging while your feet are pasted to the slab.

(Photo:  Adrian following the final pitch of Perhaps.  He is still going up as he moves across, and will cross over my head before downclimbing to me at the anchor.)

I elected to stop at the optional belay, because the guidebook warns of the potential for horrible drag when the whole traverse is done in one pitch.  Also I could see the undercling crack widen as it continued and I wanted to make sure I had all of my biggest pieces with me when I got to the final bits before the downclimb.

Leading the entirety of Perhaps was one of my favorite moments of our trip.  It was such a different sort of climb, unlike anything I'd ever done before.  And I think it really helped me feel more at ease placing my feet on featureless granite slabs.

Schoolroom West (5.7)

(Photo:  Adrian on pitch one of Schoolroom West (5.7).)

We finished our second day with Schoolroom West, a five-pitch outing that we knocked out in three.  It has good climbing, but to me it lacked the standout moments and natural lines of the other climbs we'd done so far. 

Adrian linked the first two pitches to start, up discontinuous corners to a good stance. 

(Photo:  Adrian nearing the top of pitch three of Schoolroom West (5.7).)

At the beginning of the third pitch came another one of my "Cottonwood 5.7 WTF?" moments, of course at the beginning of another one of my leads.  A blank face left of a wide crack led up to a piton, then a thin move to the right with no feet went around a shallow corner and into the narrowing crack.  It went fine but I think without the piton I would have backed off again, just because I would not have believed this was the correct, 5.7 way to go.

Adrian combined the final two pitches when I incorrectly insisted that the first tree he reached couldn't possibly be the proper belay yet.  After a fun double-tiered 5.7 roof the angle and the climbing eased to the top.  We had no difficulties scrambling over to the rappel line and, with ten pitches under our belts for the day we decided to head out.

We considered heading to a new area on day three, but we were enjoying Little Cottonwood Canyon so much we decided to devote one more day to it before heading somewhere else.  Watch this space for the second half of my report!


Coming up in Part Two:  Stuck ropes & Mexican Crack (5.10a) in Little Cottonwood Canyon, and Outside Corner (5.7) in Big Cottonwood Canyon.

Gunks Routes: Splashtic (5.10a) & Nice 5.9 Climb

(Photo:  Gail about to make the crux move on pitch one of Splashtic (5.10a).)

What happened to my Spring season?

When I got out to climb with Maryana in late April I was feeling pretty good.  After warming up with Gaston, I followed her up Obstacle Delusion (5.9), then we both cleanly toproped Teeny Face (5.10a).  After that I led Directissima (5.9) from the ground to the GT Ledge in one pitch and we both one-hanged Ridiculissima (5.10d) on toprope.  Finally, Maryana redpointed Retribution (5.10b).  I wanted to try leading it too but we were out of time, so I just followed it.  It was a good day.

And then I got so busy I couldn't find time to climb.  Trials at work, plus a home renovation that required us to pack up all our belongings and move, meant I couldn't find a day on which to play.  I couldn't even find time to write a blog post about Directissima and Ridiculissima. 

The weeks flew by. 

Memorial Day was fast approaching.  I was headed to Utah with my wife and kids for a destination wedding in Park City.  I had plans to stay in Salt Lake City afterwards for four-- FOUR!!-- days of climbing with Adrian.  I was excited to climb with Adrian again, and to see him for the first time since he moved back to Vancouver in February.  The trip promised to be a climbing dream come true, but I didn't want to arrive feeling out of shape on real rock.

I was desperate to go to the Gunks.  I needed a tune-up!

As is my wont, I hatched a plan:  I would tack an extra day onto my Memorial Day vacation and go to the Gunks right before we left town. 

In many ways this wasn't a great idea.  The forecast was not good.  It had been raining for several days.  And I needed to be back early.  Plus I had no partner. 

No matter.  I decided to go for it.  I harassed Gail until she agreed to climb with me for half a day.  At first she begged off, saying some nonsense about deadlines and proposals.  When I told her this was important, that I really needed to climb to be prepared for my trip, she said that some different explanations for my behavior came to her mind.  And then she used some ugly words.  Words I hesitate to repeat, like "obsession" and "compulsion..."

Luckily she is just as fixated on climbing as I am.  She eventually agreed to meet me.  (She had work to do but brought her laptop computer to the cliff.  Talk about obsessed.  I think that woman has a problem:  she works too hard.)

In addition to the climbing, I decided to cash in a gift certificate Adrian had given me for a free weekday rental from the Classic Car Club in Manhattan.  At no cost, I got to drive to the Gunks in a 2007 Porsche Cayman S.  So even if our day turned out to be a bust, I could at least enjoy my time driving around in a real precision speed machine. 

(Photo:  My ride for the day.  Can you believe it?)

It had been a long time since I'd driven a stick shift.  I was afraid that the Classic Car Club people would immediately discover my incompetence with a manual transmission, rip up the gift certificate, and send me packing.  But even though I stalled out three times on the test drive, they nevertheless (unaccountably) let me leave the lot with this gleaming white priceless sports missile. 

"Suckers!!" I thought as I drove away, trying my best to appear as if I belonged in this car. 

I made believe I was an investment banker with a pocket full of Viagra. 

I took corners in third gear.

I passed people on the right. 

I think I got away with it.  That's what happens when you drive this kind of car.  People expect you to be an aggressive asshole and they get out of your way.  I could get used to this kind of driving.  It felt really good.

I sped up to the Gunks in a wet mist but by the time I picked up Gail in Gardiner the rain had stopped and the sun was beating down.  It was a bit hot and humid, but hey, I wasn't about to complain.  We were going to do some climbing!

I pulled my Porsche into the nearly empty West Trapps parking lot and we set off to look for something dry.

We didn't find anything dry.

There was wetness everywhere but the cliff seemed to be less soaked as it got higher.  We decided to do something with an easy start.  Strictly From Nowhere was open, so we did Strictly's to Shockley's.  We were using Gail's 70 Meter rope; I knew I could get from the bolts atop pitch one on Strictly's all the way to the top of the cliff in one pitch.  I felt great leading both pitches.  I was so comfortable, I was unfazed by the copperhead I found nestled in a crack halfway up Strictly's.  I was particularly happy with how Shockley's went; I managed the roof with much less awkwardness than in the past and got to the finish without any significant drag. 

I wasn't so out of shape after all.  Maybe it was time to try a 5.10?

We were close to Splashtic, a climb I'd glanced at a month earlier with Maryana.  It looked dry now.  Gail encouraged me to try it, saying she thought there was pro for the crux and that if I decided to bail I could escape around the corner to the right.  And the 5.10 bit appeared like it would be short.  It seemed the steep wall which began the climb was only about 30 feet high.  After one or two hard face moves between horizontals it looked like the whole thing eased off to a low-angle romp. 

I had no intention of doing the R-rated 5.9 pitch two.  I didn't know how we'd get down without doing another pitch but Gail said she thought there was some kind of fixed anchor up there to the left.

I racked up and did it.  My analysis:  I think this is a pretty good easy 5.10.  It isn't a great pitch by any stretch of the imagination.  But if you are trying to get your feet wet in 5.10, as I am, Splashtic provides a short steep face with just a couple of hard moves on it.

You can come into the middle of the face from the right or the left.  The right may be a little easier but there is no pro for the move that gets you established on the wall.  I came in this way at first but couldn't work a C3 into the only little crack that is available.  So I stepped down and tried it from the left, where there is a good slot for a cam and a hard, steep move to get up on the wall.

Then it's just a few moves of nice climbing to the jug below the crux.  I got a nice piece in the obvious slot just below the jug.  Don't block this whole slot because you might want some space available there.  I don't want to give the move away so that's all I'm saying about that. 

Also, because I'm a chicken (and a safe chicken at that), I placed two more small Aliens in another horizontal a few feet over to the right and a foot or so higher.  These cams took a little more work, because the horizontal is sort of flaring.  But I thought they were good.

With three solid pieces in, I felt ready for the crux, which is a long reach to the next horizontal. 

I stepped up and gave it a whirl.  And I almost made the reach but didn't quite have it.

So I stepped back down, not weighting the rope. 

Trying again, I made it!  Whoa, my second 5.10 onsight, just like that. 

Once up above the steep face, I moved left to the Gorilla My Dreams corner instead of right to the former Gaston belay, since I knew from my previous trip to the Gunks that the Gaston station was gone. 

As Gail had remembered, there was a rather small tree with some good-looking slings and rings in this vegetated corner to the left.  I put in a piece to back up the tree while Gail climbed the route but then she went ahead and removed the piece after she finished climbing, using the fixed station alone for lowering.  The station seemed good enough for body weight, certainly. 

With not much time left in our half day I suggested we do Nice 5.9 Climb, another 5.9 tick on my list that I hadn't led yet.  I had done this one on toprope a few years ago with Nani and I had struggled at that time with the crux move, falling several times before finally getting it.  Earlier this year I had done it in wet conditions, again on toprope, and it seemed much less mysterious.  I figured now I would lead it quickly-- it is short-- and we'd go on home.  It was on the way out right at the beginning of the cliff.

In one sense Nice 5.9 Climb resembles Splashtic as a good introduction to its grade.  The crux is just one move, an escape out of a corner with an overhang, and it is well-protected.  (There is an upper crux but it is just a little bit of 5.8 steepness, much easier than the lower crux, in my opinion.)

In another sense, however, I don't think Nice 5.9 is a great introductory 5.9, because that one crux move is really pretty tricky.  It is a stand-up move in which you have to get your weight over your high foot just right.  If my memory were erased and I had to onsight it right now I'm not sure I'd get it clean the first time. 

But last Wednesday with Gail it went fine, although as with Splashtic I had to step up, step down, think it over, and try it again.  At which time I got it, without ever weighting the rope.

And so I went home happy with my climbing, and ready (I thought) for Utah.  Little did I realize that the granite slabs and cracks of Little Cottonwood Canyon would humble me, making this day in the Gunks seem like a distant memory. 

Stay tuned.  I'll tell you all about it next time.

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.