A Day in Boulder Canyon + Eldo's Yellow Spur (5.9+)

(Photo: A climber on Rewritten (5.7) in Eldorado Canyon. Shot from the top of pitch three of The Yellow Spur (5.9+).)

Two years ago I had my first opportunity to climb in Colorado. I did any easy route called The Bomb (5.4) in Eldorado Canyon with my old friend Greg while I was in the state for a family vacation.

While that experience was a lot of fun, I couldn't help but feel it was also a lost opportunity. Surrounded by legendary, challenging climbs, we had done something well below my ability level, in part because Greg was out of climbing shape and in part due to my own insecurities. After this first taste of Eldo I was determined to get more confident and come back to climb some of the storied classics in the canyon. I hoped that I would some day get the chance.

This year another August family vacation provided that chance. We were in Steamboat Springs for a week, and then planned to be close to Denver for several days before returning to NYC. While near Denver I would have a couple of days to go climbing. With thousands upon thousands of climbs nearby, the possibilities seemed endless.

I had a ready partner in my old mentor Vass. Vass had moved back to Boulder from New York last year. During the time when he lived in NYC, Vass had been one of my best partners. He had really taught me a lot. I admired his calm competence with climbing systems and his reliably good footwork. Although he regularly claimed to be out of good climbing form, he would nevertheless sail up anything I could climb and make it look effortless-- putting my clumsy efforts to shame. Vass always encouraged me to move forward. His support made me feel I was capable of doing more; it seemed I was usually at my best when climbing with Vass. I did my first 5.7, 5.8, and 5.9 leads with him. I was psyched to be climbing with him again, especially since our last climbing day hadn't really gone so well.

We met up on a Sunday and decided to spend our first day in Boulder Canyon getting reacquainted and shaking off the rust. Vass and I figured we could do some moderate sport and trad and then on our second day we could go tackle one of the bigger objectives I was looking to climb in Eldorado Canyon. There were so many long classics in Eldo to choose from, climbs like Rewritten (5.7), the Bastille Crack (5.7+) , Ruper (5.8), the Green Spur (5.9), or maybe even the Yellow Spur (5.9+). But first we'd take a day just to get loose and feel good.

I was excited to check out Boulder Canyon. It is a place with a storied history, but I was afraid I wouldn't really care for all the bolted climbs I'd heard about. (I prefer placing gear.) As we drove in, I found the canyon beautiful, but then all of these Front Range canyons are so beautiful. They really have it good in Colorado. Consistent with its history, Boulder Canyon's climbing is varied. You can find recently (over-) bolted sport climbs up slabs right next to sandbagged old traditional climbs that go up cracks.

Vass suggested we start on Tonnere Tower, a formation with moderate climbing that unaccountably has been overlooked until relatively recently. Vass was thinking we would warm up on bolted stuff, then once we got bored do some trad climbing. Our first climb was Los Pinos (The Pines), a multi-pitch route that rises right out of the river. I led the first two pitches in one and then we rapped off. This climb has good moves and it made for a nice warm-up. I found the situation with the bolts to be rather curious. There are numerous bolts right next to bomber gear cracks the whole way up, but then the finishing roof on pitch two requires that you place your own pro. I don't know what the route developers were thinking. I couldn't quite make sense of the difficulty ratings either. I thought nothing on the 5.9 pitch two was as hard as the opening slab moves on the 5.8 pitch one. But whatever, it was a good time.

(Photo: Vass leading pitch one of Buried Treasure (5.8+).)

We then went around the corner and did two nice single-pitch sport routes, Twilight Time (5.9+ and fun) and Bobby's Back (supposedly 5.10d). Bobby's Back features rather delicate face climbing for a few moves past the second and third bolts. Though neither of us led it perfectly clean I'm pretty sure I could get it now after doing it once.

We finished our time at Tonnere Tower with a two-pitch sport route called Buried Treasure (5.8+), electing to add to it the 5.10a final pitch of Stayin' Alive. These three pitches had good climbing but if there is a move on Stayin' Alive that is harder than 5.8 I'd like you to show it to me! Putting the difficulty rating aside, Stayin' Alive was the nicest pitch we did on the tower, with good starting face moves and a fun easy dihedral.

By now we had done seven pitches and our day was slipping away. I had enjoyed the climbing so far, but I have to say my initial apprehensions were confirmed. I'd rather do trad lines up natural features than bolted lines up faces. That's just the way I am. Vass wasn't surprised. He said he wanted me to see Castle Rock, which is filled with old-school traditional climbs. We drove over there and Vass sent me up a 5.8 called Bailey's Overhang.

I could tell I was going to like this one before I even got started. Bailey's Overhang is good stuff indeed, a natural line following cracks and a corner up to a big roof. I really enjoyed leading this. I felt solid while jamming through the steep opening moves. Then I scared myself a little at the roof when I couldn't get my right foot up where I wanted it. But my back was against the left wall and there was no way I was going to fall out. After stepping down and resetting the move I got through it just fine. Vass made it look easy using holds to the left that had eluded me.

(Photo: Vass pulling through the roof on Bailey's Overhang (5.8).)

We didn't have much time left so we threw a top rope over a route just left of Bailey's called Curving Crack (5.9). I loved this one as well, and felt very good climbing it. It follows another natural line, a crack up a corner that gets steeper as it rises. Some tense laybacking with somewhat slippery hands gets it done. I wished we'd had time for me to lead it, but it was a great finish to the day.

There is a lifetime of climbing in Boulder Canyon. I'd love to go back to see more.

After our day in Boulder Canyon I decided I was climbing pretty well. I proposed we meet up early on our second day (a Monday) and head straight for my most ambitious objective in Eldorado Canyon: the Yellow Spur (5.9+). I wanted to tackle something big, and this six-pitch classic, which some call the best 5.9 in Colorado, seemed to fit the bill. I felt I was ready to lead the crux pitches.

(Photo: View of the Flatirons from the road into Eldorado Canyon.)

When we got to Eldo I was thrilled to find that the lot was almost empty. We humped up the trail to the far end of the Redgarden Wall to find the area deserted. I was very happy not to have to worry about faster parties breathing down our necks, and psyched not to have an audience for the "problematical" 5.9 first pitch.

This pitch was, for me, the crux of the whole route. It goes up a right-facing corner to a roof. There is a piton in the roof, maybe 15-20 feet off the ground, but it doesn't appear that there is any useful pro before the piton. In his recent guidebook Steve Levin warns of the potential for ground fall if you fail to make the clip at this piton. The climbing here is also a little strange and awkward. There is a good handhold on the side wall, but stepping up to the pin puts you off-balance.

We may have set a record by placing four (!) pieces of pro before clipping the pin. First Vass placed a piece for me off to the side before I even left the ground, which he then cleaned once I got other gear. I put a blue Alien in the first finger pocket as soon as I was done using the pocket to step up. And then I placed two equalized micro nuts in a thin seam on the side of the juggy hold on the left wall. I thought the nuts were solid, but I worried that the rock quality might be a problem. I feared that if I fell, the force of the fall would rip the good jug right off the left wall. If that happened, I'd not only hit the ground and break both my legs, but I'd also be known forever as the idiot who changed the standard start of the Yellow Spur from a 5.9 to a 5.11 by destroying the crucial hold.

As luck would have it, I didn't fall. I stemmed wide and was able to reach up, blind, to clip the pin. Then I was able to commit to the slopey rail beneath the pin and make the awkward exit from the corner.

Whew! The rest of the pitch was a breeze, traversing left to an easy roof problem. At least, I thought it was easy. Here is the place where I get to be the guy who says "in the Gunks, this roof would never be a 5.9!" Well, I thought the supposed crux 5.9 roof would probably be rated a 5.7 in the Gunks. There are great holds for the hands and feet. I sailed right over it, feeling great. Being a Gunks climber does at times have its advantages.

(Photo: Vass heading into the 5.8 pitch two hanging corner on the Yellow Spur.)

Pitch two was Vass' lead. This pitch is high quality, with a committing step up into a hanging right-facing corner and a few good 5.8 face moves up the corner to a ledge. My lead of pitch three was also fun, with mostly juggy 5.7 climbing up to an interesting 5.8 V-slot.

(Photo: Sorry for the butt shot, but this is me leading into the 5.8 slot on pitch three of the Yellow Spur.)

Pitch four of the Yellow Spur is where the real business begins again. This was Vass' lead, and while he was up there I wasn't thinking much about what he was doing, because I was preoccupied with getting mentally ready for pitch five, the hardest one on the route. But when he reached the belay and I started to come up behind him, I realized that pitch four is not something to treat lightly. It is not the pitch people talk about the most but it is challenging and pretty fantastic. I was jealous that Vass had led it. The pitch climbs easily up a huge dihedral to a roof, where an exposed, rising hand traverse takes you out and up to a pedestal belay stance. It is rated 5.8+, but I think the traverse is mentally harder than that. There are footholds but they get smaller and smaller as the position gets more and more airy. And then after you commit, turn the corner and start to move up to the pedestal, there more moves to be made before you reach the belay stance.

(Photo: Vass doing the exposed rising traverse on the 5.8+ pitch four of the Yellow Spur.)

And what a belay stance. We were now standing on a tiny shelf, something like 400 feet off the ground, at the base of the final headwall beneath the pointed summit of the Redgarden Wall's Tower One. Above me was a line of pitons showing the way up a steep face at 5.9+. The atmosphere was electric.

(Photo: Looking down on Vass at the pedestal belay below the crux pitch of the Yellow Spur.)

As I stood there I felt pretty sure I was ready. I could hardly contain my excitement. This was exactly what I'd dreamed of, two years before, when I'd first gotten a taste of Eldorado Canyon. I wanted to work hard, get fitter and better, and feel comfortable going somewhere other than the Gunks and jumping on a world-class 5.9.

I was on the verge of making the dream a reality but I had to forget all that and actually climb the thing.

Vass asked me if I wanted to look at the topo but I knew what I had to do and I just wanted to get going. We had been in the shade all morning but now we had emerged into the bright sunshine and I could feel the heat building. It was now or never and I did not want to hesitate.

The pitch is insanely great. It starts out with good holds leading up a crack. After I backed up a piton with a small cam I had to start the hard stuff, making a committing step over to the right using tiny crimps for the hands and small footholds. Once established on the face, several thin, pumpy moves up a shallow corner got me past more pins to a welcome stance. I let out a huge sigh of relief when it was done. I was elated but still had to do the mentally challenging rising traverse up to the exposed arete. Known as the "Robbins Traverse," this beautiful sequence goes at a reasonable 5.7+ but is completely devoid of gear.

(Photo: Vass working through the crux 5.9+ section of pitch five of the Yellow Spur.)

About two steps into this traverse the sequence is devious. There is a 5.7 way to do it but the crucial hold is hidden. Maybe there is an easier way to find it, but I had to make a committing step up using a fragile flake for an undercling. Feeling around with the other hand, in a very tenuous position, I was fortunate to find the right way to go. Once I found the hold, the pitch was in the bag. I lingered over every move to the arete, enjoying the scenery.

(Photo: Vass partway up the 5.6 final pitch to the top of the Yellow Spur.)

My work was done. The final pitch was Vass' lead. Levin rates it at 5.6 R, and it is easy but run out for the second half. It is a beautiful pitch, which I might liken to the arete pitch of Directissima in the Gunks-- if Directissima were several hundred feet higher. It is a fitting payoff for the route, ending the climb on a high note. Vass had no trouble with it, and seemed to enjoy it all the way to the top.

(Photo: taking in the exposure on the final pitch of the Yellow Spur.)

I also enjoyed climbing the final pitch, but as I got close to the top I got very anxious about the weather. A black cloud had suddenly rolled in as Vass began leading the pitch. Both of us felt the storm was likely to just miss us as it passed overhead but I could see rain in the distance and as I climbed I could hear the rumble of thunder growing closer and closer. The top of a pointed tower was the last place I wanted to be during an electrical storm.

Once I reached the top it fell to me to traverse the pointed "roof" of Tower One to reach the Dirty Deed rappel, which was our quickest route to the ground. This rappel route, which goes down a loose chimney, isn't recommended by Levin but on a weekday I wasn't worried about knocking rocks onto climbers below and I wanted to get down as soon as possible. The roof traverse was somewhat nerve-wracking for me, as I did it accompanied by continuing thunder and a few rain drops. I stayed on belay and placed a few pieces of gear along the traverse. (I can't imagine doing it without at least staying roped up.)

(Photo: Hiking down to the car. Goodbye, Eldo.)

Once I reached the rappel station all was well. The skies cleared and we descended without incident.

Climbing the Yellow Spur was one of the most satisfying climbing experiences I've ever had. The route follows a gorgeous line and features numerous interesting cruxes. It lives up to its billing as a destination climb.

But for me it was more than just a great climb. The Yellow Spur validated what I've been doing. I don't get outside enough. I feel like my progress is slow. But climbing the Yellow Spur provided proof that the progress is there; it is real. The whole climb felt within my limits. There was never a moment that felt out of control. We made the right choices throughout the climb and approached it in as safe and reasonable a manner as possible. I could never have climbed it in this fashion this two years ago, when I first visited Eldorado Canyon.

Thank you, Eldo! I don't know when I will ever get back again, but I can't wait.

Gunks Routes: V-3 (5.7), Limelight (5.7), Arrow (5.8) & Horseman (5.5)

(Photo: Starting up V-3. Right here there's this one little reachy move. This move has given me a moment's pause both of the times I've led the route.)

This past weekend I played tour guide at the Gunks.

I was climbing with Deepak and Chin, two climbers I know from Brooklyn Boulders. They had little trad experience and wanted me to show them what trad climbing in the Gunks is all about. They knew how to belay and they'd been outside to climb, even followed a few trad pitches before, but had never rappelled or done a multi-pitch route.

If you wanted to introduce someone to the Gunks, which climbs would you choose?

I wanted the climbs to be classics. I wanted them to be interesting, and unlike the gym experience.

I thought V-3 (5.7) might be a nice place to start. It has a short first pitch, with a good crux that is totally unlike any gym climb. You have to use your body to get into the v-notch at the top of the pitch, and then you have to figure out how to get out of the notch to finish the climb. I was sure Deepak and Chin would have no trouble climbing the route, and I hoped that it would convert them to the way of the tradster, forever changing their view of the outdoor experience vs. indoor pulling on plastic.

My plan was that I would lead the pitch and stay at the top, bringing them both up.  Once we were all there at the belay I could set them up to rappel, instruct them, then lower myself to the ground and give each of them a fireman's belay for their rappels. (A fireman's belay involves simply holding the rope while a person rappels. In the unlikely event that the rappeller loses control of the rap, the belayer pulls hard on the ropes, which stops them from going through the rappeller's device.)

I figured that if the climbing and rappelling on V-3 went well, we could then go do some multi-pitch climbs on the Arrow wall. But if Deepak and Chin were not into doing a multi-pitch climb after V-3, we could do any of a number of good moderate first pitches that were close by, like Alley Oop or Cakewalk.

(Photo: Getting up to the notch on V-3 (5.7).)

Everything went according to plan, at first. I led the pitch and liked it even more than I did last year. It isn't just about the v-notch. There are some good moves right at the start and just underneath the notch. The notch itself is fun, of course, and well protected.

Chin followed me up and seemed to do well with the climbing.

(Photo: Chin making the final moves out of the notch on V-3.)

But it was hot and sunny at the belay station, and as Deepak came up to join us Chin seemed to wilt in the heat. She told me she felt like she might pass out.

Oh no! This was not good. It had happened to me once before. But that time I'd been in the middle of leading a pitch when my partner Liz said she felt faint. That was a hairier situation. This time around we were both securely fastened to a bolted anchor, so there was nothing really to worry about. Still I wanted to get her to the ground where there was shade and water as soon as possible.

Luckily Deepak was just about at the anchor so when he arrived I lowered Chin to the ground. She didn't pass out and felt better almost as soon as she got down. Once I knew she was okay I set Deepak up to rappel and then we both descended. Deepak rappelled like a pro.

I thought we might be done after just one pitch but to my surprise both Chin and Deepak wanted to continue. Chin was okay with single-pitch climbing but Deepak wanted to go above one pitch if he could. I decided to take them up Limelight (5.7) and Arrow (5.8). I would have Chin follow the first pitch of each, then lower her. Then I'd bring Deepak up and continue with the upper pitches.

I had done the second pitches of both climbs as recently as last year, but I hadn't been on the first pitch of either one since 2009. I remembered the first pitches as being unremarkable. And it is true, neither climb's first pitch is as great as the second.

But Limelight's first pitch isn't bad at all. It is quite nice. It has consistent climbing at an easy 5.6- level, with some interesting moves around the flakes at the top of the pitch. It is well-protected once you get going, but it takes while for the pro to appear right after you leave the ground.

(Photo: Relaxing atop Limelight (5.7), waiting to use the rappel station.)

Limelight's second pitch is one of my favorites. There is one hazard I want to warn you about. I think this is a recent development. There is a very loose block just to your right as you get above the GT Ledge and onto the upper wall. The climbing here is quite easy-- this is a ways below the Limelight flake-- so the block is not hard to avoid. But I think I have placed gear behind this block in the past. This time, when it easily moved as soon as I touched it, I placed nothing in its vicinity, causing a bit of a runout.

Once you reach the unique Limelight flake, the awesomeness begins. It looks so thin. It is hard to believe the edges of this flake will be as positive as they are. But once you commit to the big move to get on top of the flake, the hands and feet are all there. Beautiful, delicate climbing takes you up past a pin to the rooflet, and then a few thin steps take you left to the finishing jugs. Along the way the pro is good. The flake will take small nuts pretty much anywhere, and there are downward-facing slots for cams on the traverse.

(Photo: Deepak following me up the 5.6 first pitch of Arrow.)

Arrow's first pitch is not as nice as Limelight's. There's nothing really interesting about it. The second pitch is wonderful, though. A fun easy roof leads to great face climbing on marble-like white rock past two bolts.

Arrow was my first 5.8 lead back in 2009, and when I look back I'm not quite sure how I managed it, since I still find the crux move considerably harder than 5.8, even though I've led it three times now. I've gone to the left at the top bolt every time, because going to the right seems impossible. Even now that I have my strategy set in advance I find it challenging to commit and execute it. I'm still psyched that I somehow got it onsight. I don't want to spoil it so I won't tell you about the mantel/reach-through maneuver that I do...

Oops, I let it slip out there.

I did one thing differently this time that I'd never done before: I placed pro twice between the bolts. There are some thin cracks that will take pretty solid small Aliens. As I placed the second piece, which was just a few feet below the second bolt, it suddenly occurred to me that these bolts are bullshit. They are unnecessary; the pro isn't that bad without them. I resolved to come back to do a "fair means" ascent of Arrow, without clipping the bolts. Then after my perfect, truly free ascent of this compromised route I would have license to chop the the bolts on rappel, returning the climb to its natural state for the greater good and the glory of trad climbers everywhere.

I am kidding, of course. I don't think that would go over too well.

Maybe I'm 60% kidding.

It would be kind of neat to climb it without clipping the bolts.  I might try it some time.  I'm sure I wouldn't be the first.  Heck, I'm sure someone has free soloed the route wearing sneakers, in the rain.

Chin and Deepak both had no trouble climbing Limelight and Arrow, and Chin in particular wanted to do at least one more climb.  I felt a little bad that she'd missed out on the upper pitches of the climbs.  So I proposed we finish with Horseman (5.5), a climb that is traditionally two pitches.  We could do it in one pitch (as most people do these days), but Chin could count it as two, and she'd get to top out on the cliff.

Luckily we found it open and finished up with another great classic.  I love Horseman because it introduces you to so much of what the Gunks is about.  You get thin face climbing, followed by a fun dihedral, a traverse to avoid a roof, and then steep juggy climbing to the top. 

I don't know how many times I've climbed Horseman.  On Sunday it was a joy.  As I reached the end of the climb, I thought about how lucky I was that Chin and Deepak had asked me to show them around.  The climbs we did together weren't projects of mine, and I wouldn't have chosen them if I'd been out with one of my usual partners.  But climbing them was like being reunited with old friends. 

There's something to be said for cruising up old favorites.  It is a lot of fun.

Casablanca (5.9), Art's Route (5.9), and the Problem of Tunnel Vision

In mid-July, I got the chance to climb with Maryana again, for the first time since April. I had been busy, and my available days hadn't matched up well with hers. I'd been forced to turn her down so many times it was a wonder she'd still speak to me.

In one sense we were still climbers of similar capabilities; we were both wading into Gunks 5.10 climbs. But in another sense we were different. Maryana was climbing more, and actually getting somewhere on these climbs. Since I'd last seen her Maryana had led Simple Stuff, Nosedive, and Birdcage. By contrast, I'd successfully onsighted the one-move Splashtic and backed off of every other 5.10 I tried.

I was excited to see what she could do when we got together. Unfortunately our time was short, and we both struggled with our warm-ups.

We were both interested in leading Wegetables, so we hiked on down to the far end of the Trapps. Maryana decided to start with Casablanca (5.9), a climb with a short, reachy roof crux that she'd struggled with once before.

This was a climb I had sent onsight, although I had to try reaching the jug in several different ways before I finally just popped for it and easily grabbed it. Maryana was thinking she'd probably solve it immediately this time around, since she'd improved as a climber so much over the last year or so since her last attempt.

But alas, she struggled again. She wormed around the big roof flake in several different ways, trying to reach the jug, but she just couldn't get it. One of the good things about Casablanca is that you can do this over and over again and never hang on your gear, because it is easy to step down to the stance beneath the flake. Maryana did this several times, but eventually took a hang or two on her cam in the flexy flake (it holds!).

Finally she tried something different, throwing a heel and getting over the roof, delicately reaching up until she had the good hold. Afterwards she said she felt like she'd approached the climb with tunnel vision, thinking there had to be a way she could reach the hold directly, since she'd seen others do it. If she'd considered the heel hook more quickly she surely would have sent it.

I had a few inches on Maryana and I could just pop for the hold, so I didn't give much thought to what she said, although perhaps I should have paid more attention.

Safety alert: there are still slings on the tree just over the lip on Casablanca. Please do not rap from this tree. It is DEAD. Maryana could move the tree with her hands. It is not safe. There is a larger, living tree with slings about 20-30 feet higher. We used doubles, tied together, to rap from this tree. A 70 meter would likely make it, but a single 60 probably won't. You should either do the climb with doubles or do the second pitch, so you can use the Casa Emilio raps or walk off.

After we rapped down, I suggested we try the nearby Casanova (5.9-), a no-star climb that goes through the roof at a different place. I looked the roof over on rappel and it looked pretty cool. But the climb was in the full-on sun and Maryana wisely wanted to look for shade on this hot hot day.

So I suggested Art's Route (5.9), a climb that Dick Williams upgraded to two stars in his 2004 guidebook. And on Art's Route I had a little tunnel vision episode of my own.

I got through the first crux, an awkward mantel over a low roof. It wasn't pretty and I used a knee but I will take it.

Then at the second crux, which involves getting over a bigger ceiling and into a notch, I thought I had it figured out. From underneath the roof, moving to the right for a second I could see a hold I needed to reach, and I also clipped a very useful fixed nut. Then, from back under the roof, I made the big move to reach the key hold on my first try.

I now know this is the hardest move on the pitch, but after I grabbed the key hold I couldn't for the life of me figure out how to get myself over the roof and into the notch. I tried it over and over again, and every time I couldn't make it. I climbed down several times and after a while I started hanging on that fixed nut.

Finally I realized that like Maryana, I was suffering from tunnel vision. In my case it was literally true. I was looking only into the notch for holds. I was failing to try to find a hold outside the notch that I could use to pull myself up and into it. Once I realized this I got it on the first try, the climb was over, and I cursed myself for my stupidity. This could easily have been an onsight.  Maryana ran right up it as the second.

Art's Route is just a short, single pitch, but it is a very nice climb with two very different, and pretty difficult, cruxes. I highly recommend it and I will be back to send it!

(Photo:  Cowering under Wegetables, trying vainly to wait out a storm.)

Probably I will return to do it on a day in which I try Casanova and Wegetables as well. Maryana and I never got to do Wegetables. It grew overcast as we worked on Art's Route and it started pouring right as we arrived underneath Wegetables. We crouched there against the wall staying relatively dry for forty-five minutes, hoping the storm would pass without getting the climb wet. But as it continued and the rain came down harder and harder, we realized that not only was Wegetables in jeopardy, but that our whole day might be shot. Eventually the rain dripped through the roofs all over the climb and we gave up, marching out in the continuing downpour. We were thwarted after just two pitches.

While we stood there I looked over the climb and gained a renewed hunger for coming back to lead it. I remembered the tough spots and I think I still have the beta in mind to send the thing. I need to have a good autumn with lots of splitter weather so I can come back and conquer these 5.9's and 5.10's that are piling up, waiting for me.

Gunks Routes: The Brat (Direct 5.7), Katzenjammer (5.7) & Jim's Gem (5.8)

Another early July morning, another half day for Gail and me. Again it was supposed to be rather miserable, in the upper nineties. And this time we had an added unpleasant bonus: a huge downpour had soaked the cliff at around 5:00 a.m., making the conditions as we arrived both wet and humid.

It might have made more sense to stay in bed, but my Gunks opportunities have seemed so rare this year, I wasn't about to give one up. Gail was willing to belay me so long as I was willing to lead.

We started with the Brat, a climb right where the Trapps begins. I had never done it, somehow. It is one of those Uberfall climbs that sees a lot of traffic, I think, because it is so close to the parking lot and so easy to set up as a top rope climb.

I felt insecure leading it, mostly because the rock felt slimy. I chose the direct, 5.7 version, which goes straight up the vertical crack system that defines the beginning of the climb. This direct version has good pro for the crux move, and the move is enjoyable. It took a little thinking, and because the rock felt so icky/slippery I may have hemmed and hawed a bit longer than I would have in ideal conditions. The 5.6 version steps left and then back to the right, going around the crux move. I can't tell you about its quality but it seemed to me the direct route was better protected.

After the crux, I'd say the climbing on the Brat is only occasionally interesting and the pro leaves a lot to be desired. The climb wanders a bit right, and then back left, before going over a short headwall to the top. The second cruxy move, a slabby step up and right of the first crux, is protected by an iffy cam in an old pin scar (should've tried a Tricam?), and then the final hardish move up the head wall to the top also unavoidably risks a ledge landing if you blow it. In between these moves you are traversing at the mercy of an old pin, if I recall correctly.

I'm not sorry I did the Brat once but I don't think I will bother leading it again.

Once I got to the top I set up a rope so we could toprope the Katzenjammer variations. There are several lines you can take up the face to the left of the Brat and to the right of the obvious off-width Keyhole cracks. The original route starts just a few feet from the Brat and trends leftward up the path of least resistance but with the security and ease of the top rope you can carve out a direct line of your own choosing. I wouldn't recommend leading any of them as I think the pro is worse than the PG Dick Williams assigns the climb in his guidebook. It may be that, as on the Brat, some historical pins have disappeared since the last time Dick's book was updated in 2004.

We chose one 5.7-ish line to the right, and one 5.8-ish (for one pretty thin face move) to the left. These routes were clean and nice enough. I would never bother doing them again. I would only recommend them to someone whose only option is toproping. Since we were still waiting for the cliff to dry out these routes made sense for us.

By the time we were done with the Brat/Katzenjammer area things did seem to be drying out, and we trooped down to the High E area so I could have a look at another of my 5.10 dream climbs for 2012: Directississima aka Doubleissima (5.10b). Having recently done the neighboring Ridiculissima (5.10d) on top rope with Maryana, I think I have some idea of what the climbing on Doubleissima will be like: steep and pumpy, with good holds and the occasional bomber horizontal for a rest. I like to think I should be able to do it safely, even if I can't send it on the first try. It's okay if at some point I flame out and have to take a hang. My only real worry is the bulge off the traditional first belay, which some people say is tricky to protect. I told Maryana I wanted to jump on Doubleissima and she said "You should do that one if you want to break your ankle again." I took this as half-hearted endorsement.

When I looked at it with Gail, I decided it should wait for a cooler day. We were talking over some other nearby options when it came up that Gail had never done The Last Will Be First (5.6). I had already expressed interest in pitch two of Jim's Gem (5.8). Seemed like a nice combo so we did them.

Leading The Last Will Be First I was happy to have abandoned the thought of doing Doubleissima. The heat on the cliff was brutal. Still it was a nice pitch, long and high-quality, with consistent 5.6 moves.

Despite the heat, we continued from the GT Ledge with Jim's Gem. This pitch seemed short, so I figured why not?

It starts up over a block and into a left-facing corner. Then there are two options: (1) diagonal up right past a piton to a stance at the ceiling, then exit right, or (2) continue straight up the corner and make a thin traverse right, past a piton, to the stance and exit right. I didn't have a plan but thought if variation 1 looked reasonable I would just do that.

I ended up doing variation 1. I was expecting some kind of delicate footwork, but actually it ended up being more of a roof climb. The crux was fun; it required committing to moving right using some slightly slopey holds, then making a couple of overhanging moves upwards on jugs to the stance. I thought it was fairly graded at 5.8. Gail thought it was a little harder.

The pro is worrisome. The piton that protects the crux is really old and rust-eaten. It is pretty junky and I couldn't find a way to back it up. I made the move right and was disappointed to find no pro there either. You have to basically get through the crux before you find real gear. There is a great horizontal right at the point when you are pulling up to the stance.

If that pin were replaced I would certainly recommend Jim's Gem. It is short and fun, and the bolted rap station is just to the left of the finish. But until that pin is replaced, I don't think I'll be back, unless it is to try it by the second variation.

 

P.S. I want to mention that for these last several posts I have been writing on my iPad using an app called Blogsy. As of this writing it costs $4.99. I have no business connection to the makers of this app. My experience is limited-- I have just been writing text and have not been uploading photos or doing anything otherwise fancy. But it has been so easy and intuitive to use for writing posts that I felt compelled to say something nice about it here. This is an app that simply works. It is so much better than the Blogger app. Google should be ashamed. If you want to write posts on the go, get Blogsy, you won't regret it.

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.