Fun Times in Lost City

(Photo:  Wriggling into a hole after I dropped my shoe in The Corridor in Lost City.)

A few Sundays ago, Maryana and I were to meet up in the Gunks. I'd been not climbing for a few weeks because everyone in my family was occupied with moving back into our renovated apartment. But I hadn't forgotten climbing, far from it! I was eager-- you might even say desperate-- to get back out there.

The forecast was iffy. Maryana was already up in the Gunks climbing the day before. She was able to climb for most of the day but around 5:00 p.m. the skies opened up. It began pouring with a vengeance. And once it started, it came on heavily, continuing into the evening without any prospect of slowing down.

Maryana sent me a text saying we might want to call it off. But I checked the forecast and it looked okay to me. The rain was supposed to stop overnight. The only question was whether it would be clear enough in the morning for the cliffs to get some sun. If the cliffs get air and light they dry off very quickly. But sometimes after a rainy night a wet fog will hang over the cliffs in the morning, making it impossible to climb until the afternoon. Often as not this doesn't happen, though, and you can get a full day in.

I was willing to take the chance if Maryana was. She was planning to stay overnight anyhow, so she agreed.

But the texts kept coming.

7:30 p.m.: "Still raining."

11:45 p.m.: "Still raining..."

As I caught the bus at Port Authority the next morning it seemed like things just might be all right. It was cloudy but there was no rain.  By the time the bus reached New Paltz, however, it seemed quite damp and foggy indeed. Maryana and I lingered over breakfast in town, hoping it might brighten up a little. But the conditions remained unchanged. We decided we might as well go up and check out the wet cliffs.

Sure enough, as we came up the hill to the steel bridge we could see that both the Trapps and the Nears were engulfed in a thick cloud. But we could also see that it seemed much clearer just a little higher over towards Minnewaska.

That settled it. We decided to head up to Lost City.

Now before you nit-pickers get all indignant over the fact that I am talking about Lost City, I wish to remind you of something: there is no rule that you can't talk about Lost City. To the contrary, Lost City is frequently talked about. Climbers have long spread the word about their exploits at Lost City on the internet. Climbing personalities as esteemed as Russ Clune and Jim Lawyer have both posted about it, as have others and yet others.

What you're NOT supposed to do is publish a guidebook about Lost City. And I won't be doing that. So no worries.

I don't think there is anything to fear in talking about the climbs at Lost City. The traffic there will never be that high, because there are only a handful of climbs that go at a grade easier than hard 5.10. And most of the climbs are more difficult than that. The place is a paradise for people who like to get a workout on single-pitch steep face climbs in the 5.11 to 5.12 range. The community of people who do this is relatively small. So never fear, the cliff will never be overrun with newbies who don't know what they are doing. It won't turn into another Uberfall or Peterskill. There just isn't that much climbing at Lost City for newbies to do.

But back to the subject.

On my first trip to Lost City last autumn, I didn't climb much of anything. I went with the dad of one of my son's friends. We brought our two boys along. The day was really for the kids. I only climbed one pitch, an easy corner that I led in order to set it up for the boys. But it was exciting just to be there and check out the possibilities. I really wanted to go back some time and do some of the climbs I looked at, like the huge 5.10 ceiling known as Stannard's Roof.

(Photo:  My son Nate climbing at Lost City in the fall of 2011.  I'm sorry to say he hasn't worn these climbing shoes a single time since then!)

Apart from that first occasion, I had been to Lost City just one other time, in early January of 2012. This was one of those bizarre, unseasonably warm days last winter when you could climb like it was October. Maryana, Adrian and I had thrown ropes over some climbs in and around a little canyon known as The Corridor. At the time I was feeling kind of out of shape and I didn't get up any of the climbs we tried cleanly. On Texas Flake (5.10+) I messed up an early move that was probably 5.9, but I did manage to salvage some pride by blundering through the crux on my first try. It took me a couple of tries before I got the low crux roof of Gold Streaks (5.11-) but the upper crux on a steep face went well. I really struggled with another 5.11+ called Red Wall and I got absolutely nowhere on a hard face climb called Caffeine and Nicotine (5.12).

When Maryana and I returned to Lost City the other week we just wanted to find something that was dry enough to climb. We didn't really care what it was. We walked along the cliff looking for climbable rock and in the process I saw a lot of Lost City for the first time. The cliff goes on for a while; it is bigger than I realized. We looked at the Wishbone roof (5.10 and soaking wet) and the famous Persistent (5.11+ and also quite wet). Maryana showed me the Lost City Crack (5.10). This is supposed to be one of the easier 5.10 climbs at Lost City, and it follows a vertical crack so the pro is good. It looks fantastic. Unfortunately it too was soaked.

(Photo:  Starting up Texas Flake (5.10+) in January 2012.)

Eventually we found that the only climbs that were dry enough to attempt were the ones we'd done before. The driest climb we found was the Texas Flake, so we did it first. This is a good 5.10, with nice moves throughout and a one-move reachy crux. We did it on top rope, like last time, but when I climbed it this time I tried to pay attention to whether there would be enough pro for me to come back and lead it some day.

This time I got through the first crux, a hardish 5.9 move, with no problems. But I couldn't immediately work out exactly how I'd solved the upper 5.10 crux the last time around and ultimately I took a hang. Then I figured out how to set my feet so I could make the reach, getting it on the second try. (Maryana got through the whole thing without a fall, I think, but she approached the crux in a way I thought must be much harder, using a terrible intermediate hold.) Now that I have the beta I feel sure I could send it on lead. The pro looks good to me. Placements seem available all along the flake down low, and it appears there are good slots protecting each of the crux moves. My only worry is that it might be a little run out during the easier climbing above the second crux.

(Photo:  Further up Texas Flake.)

After Texas Flake we went over to Gold Streaks. Now this is a pitch that I think I will never lead. The initial overhang problem is well-protected, but the steep face above appears to me to have very few protection opportunities. It is super-steep and unrelenting for a long long way, a real endurance test with good holds but some big moves.

It is a great top rope problem, made harder for Maryana and me by the one spot of wetness: a puddle of water right where we needed to slap our hands to escape the overhang. We both slipped off of this crucial shelf a few times, but eventually we were able to stick the grab despite the wetness.

(Photo:  Maryana starting up Gold Streaks (5.11-) back in January.)

I felt good about Gold Streaks because I ended up sending it bottom-to-top twice, doing it once via the left-hand start and once coming in from the right (much harder in my opinion-- Maryana and I each solved it in different ways, although she showed me a dropped knee trick that became a key part of my solution).

I enjoyed working Gold Streaks so much, it made me question my habit of coming to the Gunks and climbing new trad climbs all the time. I could see how people get really strong by working out on these hard top rope climbs. It still isn't my first choice, but I should maybe do it a little more often. It is fun.

(Photo:  About to climb through the first crux on Gold Streaks.)

By the time we finished with Gold Streaks the sun had come out, and the cliff was drying out to some degree. We took a look around and saw that a route across The Corridor from the Texas Flake called Forbidden Zone (5.11) appeared to be dry enough to climb.

This one was new for me so I was psyched to check it out. Maryana started working it first and struggled with the first crux, a super-steep bit through a bulge with big reaches. You might recall that Maryana is still coming off of a bicycle accident that broke some bones in her back, forcing her to take off more than a month from climbing. I couldn't believe how well she was climbing given all the time off.  Watching her sail up Texas Flake and figuring out Gold Streaks, I was amazed. So when she struggled with Forbidden Zone, I thought there was no way I was going to get up it.

But I surprised myself by getting through the bulge on my first try, helped no doubt by watching Maryana figure out most of the moves. There is a great rest stance after the bulge, and then another fun crux up a corner to the finishing jugs. I blew the sequence in the second crux, falling a few times. I couldn't find the hidden holds in the corner. Once I finally saw them, I figured it out.

After Maryana took another crack at Forbidden Zone, I went for the top rope send and got it! What a great pitch. Steep, sustained, with many great moves through the bulge, and then the devious corner awaits. I don't know about leading it. I didn't really suss out the pro, as the climbing is well above my leading level, for sure. And while the feeling of working it all out on top rope didn't match the thrill of, say, on-sighting CCK Direct on lead, it was still a fun climb and a really fun day.

I know I will be back.

Gunks Routes: Commando Rave (5.9) & Dat-Mantel (5.10b)

 

(Photo: Maryana starting the crux section of Commando Rave (5.9).)

 

Last Sunday was a gorgeous day, with highs in the mid- to-upper sixties. In other words: sending weather. High season, baby!

 

I was meeting up with Maryana for the first time in a while. She had been forced to take an eight-week break from climbing because of a cycling accident in the city, which had left her with several fractures in her back. This was a heartbreaking blow for her, coming as it did right in the middle of a great climbing year. Before the accident Maryana had led some truly impressive Gunks 5.10's (like Birdcage, for example). But now she had to rebuild. I was climbing with her on only her second weekend back in the climbing game.

 

We started with a nice warm-up. I led both pitches of Son of Bitchy Virgin (5.6) in one, running it all the way to the GT ledge. I'd never done the first pitch before. It is okay, but after the initial 5.5 overhang there isn't really much to recommend it. I think the second pitch is quite nice, but it is better approached via the Immaculate Conception variation.

 

After our warm-up Maryana did an excellent job leading Dry Heaves, a challenging 5.8. Then I got down to business with one of those 5.9's I still hadn't gotten around to: Commando Rave.

 

Dick Williams suggests in his guide book that Commando Rave is a polarizing climb. He says some love it and some hate it. I guess the hate springs from the lack of pro before the crux. The climb begins with some nice moves up a seam. Then comes an unprotected thirty-foot (!) traverse, but really this traverse is so easy it is barely fifth class. For most of it you are basically walking on a sidewalk. And about two-thirds of the way across I actually got a big blue Camalot in the crack at my feet. After that the rest of the way was well-protected.

 

The crux is really fun. You angle up and right through some overhangs to a left-facing corner. The hardest bit comes as you reach the end of the roof at the corner. You have to hang in to place a bomber piece, and then it takes a balance move out right to escape the corner and reach up to the good hold.

 

Once through the crux the belay tree is just a couple of moves away. Commando Rave is good, featuring a solid 5.9 crux. It is a quality quick tick, and totally worth doing. It isn't amazing, and it certainly isn't bad. I really can't imagine loving or hating it.

 

 

(Photo: Heading up to the big roof on Dat-Mantel (5.10b).)

 

I felt pretty good about Commando Rave, and afterwards thought I might get another quick tick, this time of a 5.10. I jumped right on the nearby Dat-Mantel.

 

This was a climb I'd aborted leading with Gail. On that occasion I was just getting up to the roof when I realized I needed some big gear I'd already used below, and then it started raining. After abandoning the lead I sent it pretty easily on toprope on the first try. Pissed to have found it so easy, I resolved then to try to come back and get the redpoint on lead before 2012 was out.

 

 

(Photo: Getting ready to attack the roof on Dat-Mantel.)

 

This time, on lead, I wouldn't say it went easily, exactly. I fumbled about a bit before figuring out how to reach the bomber horizontal above the roof. Then I was psyched to place two good cams above the roof, one for each of our double ropes.

 

I got set to throw a heel and pivot over the roof....

 

And it worked out. It took a few tries. It wasn't pretty. I remember standing right up over the roof when I did it on top rope. On lead, by contrast, I ended up basically pushing my whole leg and hip into the rock before I could pull myself over the roof. But I never weighted the rope, and I made it! I'll gladly call it a victory and put it in the bank.

 

Dat-Mantel is a good introductory 5.10.  The crux is short and the pro is great.  You should be careful as you figure out how to reach the horizontal over the roof.  There is good pro at the back, where the roof meets the wall, but until you can plug that horizontal over your head a fall will send you down onto the slab.  It wouldn't be a dangerous fall, but it would be unpleasant.  Once you get your fingers in the horizontal, however, there are great placements left and right, and you can try the roof move over and over again without falling onto the rope. 

 

After Dat-Mantel my day was as good as done.  With a new 5.9 onsight to my credit plus a successful 5.10,  I was content to coast. Maryana proved herself to be the comeback kid, leading two more hard 5.8's: the wonderful first pitches of both Carbs & Caffeine and Airy Aria. I then got to end our day by combining the beautiful second and third pitches of Airy Aria into one lead, a fitting finish to a glorious day of climbing.

 

I love sending season.

Rated R in the Gunks: The Blackout (5.9-), Ape Call (5.8) & Raubenheimer Special (5.7)

Last Monday (Labor Day) was the third consecutive half-day of climbing in the Gunks for Gail and me. We arrived at the cliffs early and without much of a plan. We had talked about maybe doing Apoplexy (5.9) or Retribution (5.10b). But we hadn't discussed a warm-up route.

As we walked into the Trapps I suddenly thought of The Blackout (5.9-), a climb that Gail had introduced me to last year. This climb sits right in the middle of a very popular part of the cliff, near Jackie (5.5), Betty (5.3), Baby (5.6), Son of Easy O (5.8), and others. But no one is ever on it. Last year I had tried the first two pitches (which are both 5.8), combining them in one lead. I got a bit befuddled at the overhang on the traditional second pitch. I stepped up and down several times before committing to the move, getting worn out and then taking a hang during the traverse that came afterwards. I knew I could go back now and do better. And I thought it might be worth looking at the third pitch, which has a G-rated 5.9- roof crux but some allegedly R-rated climbing off the belay ledge up to the roof.

This time around I combined the first two pitches again. They are both very good. The first pitch starts with a fun bulge right off the ground and then, moving a little to the right, presents lower-angled thin face moves up to a ledge beneath the second pitch overhang and traverse. On Monday I brought my red C3 with me because I remembered that last year I found a funky sideways placement for it in a seam to protect the thin face moves.

Everything went well on the first pitch. I found the seam and the funky red C3 placement and danced up to the ledge, enjoying the climbing and feeling good. But Gail insisted that I went too far to the right. She was sure that last year I'd found a different seam, a different funky red C3 placement, and different thin face moves up to the ledge.

Was she right? Who knows? Either way there is pro for the moves and fun 5.8 climbing.

I continued straight into the traditional second pitch, without any hesitation this time around. This is in my opinion the best part of the climb. Once you pull the overhang a balancy move up and right to a pin presents the crux. Then a pumpy traverse right with good holds brings you to yet more steep climbing straight up on jugs to the belay ledge. The pro is good throughout. Save your red and yellow Camalots for the traverse, you'll be glad to have them. This is a really nice sequence. It looks very intimidating from below, but it's all there.

After Gail joined me atop pitch two I walked over to have a look at the R-rated beginning to The Blackout's third pitch. I could see why it is rated R. There is a bolt just over the lip of the overhang but no obvious pro on the face beneath the roof. Any fall before clipping the bolt would send the leader straight down to the ledge. Dick Williams says this unprotected face is 5.8.

As I looked it over, though, it appeared far easier than 5.8 to me. I decided to make a few moves up to evaluate the climbing and see if I could finagle any placements. I figured I wouldn't do anything that I couldn't reverse until I was sure about continuing.

It turned out to be really easy. Maybe I've just been climbing a lot lately and my view is skewed, but I really didn't think it was harder than 5.6 getting up to the bolt. There is this one little reach to the good hold under the roof. I placed a worthless nut over to the left before making this move. The nut immediately popped out but it didn't matter. I knew there was no way I was going to fall off the move, so I wasn't worried. Once I had the good hold in hand I clipped the bolt and it was well-protected and juggy the whole rest of the way. I thought the roof was straightforward and easier than 5.9.

I like The Blackout. The first two pitches are really nice, and different from each other. I am sure I will do them again. I'd feel comfortable going back to do the third pitch as well, but I don't know that I will bother. It just isn't interesting enough. There are much better roof pitches in the Gunks.

Once we got down to the ground I decided maybe I should take a look at another R-rated climb I'd never considered before: Ape Call (5.8).

(Photo: Gail about to make the crux slab moves on the first pitch of Ape Call (5.8).)

Ape Call is just around the corner to the left of The Blackout. The first pitch begins with an R-rated slab. The second pitch ends with a huge roof. Both pitches are 5.8. I've always been attracted to the roof but scared away by the protection rating on the slab. But after my experience on The Blackout, I thought maybe I could check out Ape Call the same way. I could take it one step at a time, not doing anything irreversible, and just climb back down if I thought it was too risky.

It turns out the first moves are no big deal. You quickly find yourself at a stance just a couple of moves from the top of the slab. At just above waist level is a small horizontal seam, with two narrow pockets that take tiny gear. I fiddled with these pockets for a while and got a black Alien to the left, and a purple C3 to the right. I think I got them both well set. I gave these cams some hard tugs, and while there is only so much you can tell from this kind of gear testing, they didn't budge. I thought they were good.

(Photo: Bomber, dude! The crux gear on Ape Call (5.8).)

Then I evaluated the move. Above me was an obvious hold. I figured that if this hold was positive, I could make the one step up and over pretty easily and then place better gear above the lip of the slab. If I reached up and didn't like it, I could still step down and bail.

I stepped up and tested it once, and wasn't sure I liked it, so I stepped down.

Then I stepped up and tried it again and it felt really good. That was all I needed. One step up, plus an easy-does-it step to the right, and I was in good shape. I could reach up and place a perfect cam in the corner above the slab.

(Photo: Gail attacking the huge roof on the traditional pitch two of Ape Call (5.8).)

I really enjoyed the slab. And the rest of Ape Call is better than good-- it is awesome. I ran the two pitches together in one. The remainder of the traditional pitch one has some steep moves up the corner above the slab. Then mellow climbing takes you further up the corner system to the roof. Once beneath the overhang you have to move left to get the good handholds below the lip of the roof. Here you should be careful, because there are several loose blocks that are covered in chalk along the way. Negotiate the traverse left, and then the fun really begins. Move back right, getting fully horizontal under the big roof, grab the jugs in the notch and go!

Ape Call is a great route. It has one of the best 5.8 roofs in the Gunks. And if I am right about the gear then I don't think the start is really R-rated. I would lead it again.

Having done these two R-rated routes, I just had to check out Raubenheimer Special (5.7), another R-rated climb that is in the same area, between Ape Call and The Blackout. I had to do it. It was sitting right there. I'd never been on it before, but Gail had led it and she said it was no big deal. How could I not complete the R-rated trilogy?

Raubenheimer's turned out to be the scariest route of the three, in my opinion. It is a clean route, with good low-angled climbing up an arete and face. But the crux thin move, about 25 feet up, comes above a ledge you will hit if you fail. There really isn't anything much you can do about it. I worked a nut into a shallow placement in a seam to the right, and maybe this nut was good. But the actual climbing is a ways over to the left at the arete, and if you blow the move I don't think the nut will keep you from an ankle-tweaker of a fall. And after stepping up at the crux you need to place a piece in the horizontal over your head from a rather fragile stance. The climbing is rated just 5.7, but I felt I was in much more jeopardy on this route than on the other two. I felt the moves were less secure, less certain. I'm not sorry I did it once but I don't know if I will ever go back.

In writing this post I don't want to encourage you to do something stupid. Please don't go climb one of these routes just because of whatever I may say about them. You have to make your own judgment about the risks.

Really the key insight I gained from climbing these routes is that the decision to climb an R-rated route involves the same sort of thinking that governs every other step you take as a trad leader.

You don't protect every move when you lead, even when the opportunities are there. You need to conserve gear and slings. With every step as a leader you evaluate whether you need to place some protection, or whether you can go a little further. The distance to your last pro figures into the equation, of course, but so too does the difficulty of the terrain. If you're sure you are not going to fall you will be much more inclined to keep running it out a little longer. And so if you are climbing a route with a 5.9 crux, for example, you are going to be making sure you protect the 5.9 moves. And you will be less inclined to place pro during the stretches of 5.6 or 5.7 between the cruxes. You will enter R-rated territory frequently, by choice, when the climbing is beneath your limit. You have to, or you will run out of gear.

The analysis when negotiating an R-rated route is thus similar to any G or PG route. You have to ask yourself with every move whether you are confident you can continue without pro. The only real difference is that if the answer is no, you don't have the option to place a piece. You have to be prepared either to make the move and take a risk, or to bail. If you find yourself unable to do either one, you've made a big mistake.

After I finished Ape Call, Gail asked me how I was feeling while leading the slab. I had to say I just felt good. I wondered aloud about whether courting danger added to the experience, or even represented the heart of the experience of climbing. I'm sure for some people it does.

I have never thought that risking injury was at the core of climbing for me. But it can be hard to know for sure. I like to push my limits. And I surely feed off of the adrenaline rush I get from powering through a tough sequence. If I am, either consciously or unconsciously, flirting with danger because it gives me an even bigger rush, then I think I am in an unhealthy place and need to reevaluate what I am doing.

But I like to think I am not in such a place. I enjoyed The Blackout and Ape Call because I evaluated them carefully and continued with the climbing when I was sure it would be okay. I solved both puzzles and felt satisfied physically and intellectually. On Raubenheimer Special, by contrast, when I felt for a fleeting moment that maybe-- just maybe-- I was taking too big a risk, it didn't give me a rush or make me feel good. It actually made me feel a little sick. It was not a feeling I wanted more of.

Labor Day weekend ended my summer with a bang. I hope to get in a few more 5.10 leads before the end of 2012. The autumn, aka Gunks sending season, will soon be upon us. Even if I don't succeed on any new 5.10's, I feel like I've had some good progress this year. The 5.9's all feel pretty good and occasionally I hit a 5.10 just right. My climbing has improved a lot, I think, and I hope to stay healthy through the fall and winter so I can again take it to the next level.

Gunks Routes: Yellow Belly (5.8), Birdland Direct (5.9) & Alphonse (5.8)

(Photo: Gail checking out the interesting roof problem on pitch one of Yellow Belly (5.8).)

Last Sunday Gail and I started early with a plan that we would head to the Near Trapps for a half day of climbing. I had numerous routes in mind as candidates for us. I was considering Criss Cross Direct, a 5.10a with a well-protected crux right off the ground. But first I thought we should check out one of the great 5.8 climbs in the Nears that I had never done. Specifically I was thinking of Broken Sling or Yellow Belly.

Gail wasn't too keen on doing Broken Sling. She had done it before and remembered the traverse at the beginning of pitch two as really scary. So that one was out. When we got to the cliff we decided to look at Yellow Belly, which she'd never tried, instead.

Yellow Belly gets two stars from Dick Williams, but no one seems to do it. I think this is mostly because the crux of pitch two involves getting in and out of an awkward alcove. It sounded like fun to me, or at least like something different than the usual thing.

When we got to the base I saw another reason why the climb might be unpopular. There is a tree not far off the deck that looks like it might be in the way. (It isn't.) The tree obscures the view of the climb from below, making the climb easy to pass over. I walked back and forth between Alphonse and Yellow Ridge a couple of times before deciding we were looking at the correct start for Yellow Belly.

Straightforward climbing at a low angle (sling the tree for your first pro!) leads up to the crux roof on pitch one. And this roof is a puzzler. It can be easily avoided on the right but I encourage you to tackle it directly. The difficulty is that you have to get into a hanging right-facing corner over the roof. There is a layback hold in the corner but nowhere to place your feet for the layback, since there is nothing but air below the left side of the corner. It took me a while but I finally figured something out and it was a really cool move. It was definitely not your standard jug haul.

Once above the roof, I was surprised to see a big off-width crack going up the corner. This off-width is too wide to protect with gear. I didn't recall any mention of an off-width in the guidebook so I decided that I was supposed to move left to the outside nose/arete, where I built a belay. Later I saw that Dick does say something about going up a corner/crack to the nose, so maybe I skipped a vital part of pitch. I'm still not quite clear on where the route actually goes. I enjoyed pitch one nonetheless and looked forward to pitch two.

I could see the alcove looming above. But first we had to deal with another crux early in the second pitch. A slabby low-angled face leads up from the belay stance. You have two choices: go up the face close to the nose, or move left to a right-facing corner with a tiny seam at the back. Neither option looks easy. I thought I remembered Dick saying something about staying close to the nose. So I decided to climb over to the right. But there isn't any pro over there, so first I placed a tiny nut in the seam at the left and then moved back right to do the face-climbing. One or two thin moves gained me easier blocky ground up to the alcove. Gail thought I would have been better off not placing the off-line pro to the left, but I can't really say.

And then at the alcove itself I learned why the climb is named Yellow Belly. I had to do a full-on belly flop to get into the alcove. I found myself lying totally prone on a block. The crux for me was the transition from this belly flop to something resembling a standing position. It was very squirmy and cramped but the pro was good so I think it counts as fun! Gail certainly seemed to find my situation amusing. For me the exit from the alcove was easier than getting into it. The exit is a standard Gunks roof escape, moving left with good hands and poor feet, then taking the leap of faith and swinging out and around the outside corner onto the face.

As I placed a piece in a convenient slot at the left exit to the alcove, I thought the climb was all but over.  But I was mistaken. After I climbed up another twenty feet or so, with the top of the cliff almost in reach, I was suddenly immobilized. I couldn't move because the rope was stuck somewhere down below.

I tried to shake it loose, but it wouldn't budge.

When it fully sank in that I couldn't get the rope free I started screaming obscenities. I envisioned us wasting our whole day with an epic.

Then I calmed down and took stock of the situation. I couldn't move up but I could move down. I decided to downclimb to see if I could shake the rope free from a lower position. As I moved down, the slack in the rope increased, so I built a two-piece anchor to give myself a top rope as I approached the point where the rope was stuck. This worked out pretty well. The downclimbing was easy enough and eventually I could flick the rope out of the slot where it was stuck, at the exit to the alcove. I'm not sure if my gear placement had anything to do with creating the problem, and I could never really see exactly where the rope got stuck, but beware: if your rope feeds out the left side the alcove on Yellow Belly it might get snagged.

Once I had the rope moving again I reached as far to the right as I could and placed an Alien in a horizontal over the alcove so that I could direct the rope away from feeding back into the same slot. Then I was able to finish the climb without it getting stuck again.

Yellow Belly has weird moves, route-finding issues, challenging pro, an awkward alcove, and rope-eating potential. Doesn't sound so great, does it? But I liked it a lot. I thought the three cruxes were all very different and enjoyable. I'd go back again to tackle the off-width and to try to manage the rope better at the exit to the alcove.

After we finally got done with Yellow Belly, Gail suggested Birdland, a route with no complications, just wonderful climbing. I hadn't done it this year so I was fine with it. I also thought it would be fun to check out the 5.9 variation on pitch two, a direct finish through the roof at the very top of the cliff.

I have previously argued that Birdland is the best 5.8 in the Gunks. I still feel that way. The first pitch has beautiful face climbing, although the little pebble toehold at the crux is looking pretty polished. This just ups the excitement a little bit. You must have faith in the polished toe pebble.

And then the second pitch is totally different, with some thin facey action right off the belay, and then great overhanging moves into the exit corner.

The 5.9 finish is well worth doing. It is superior to the easy traverse right that finishes the traditional 5.8 pitch two. I found this final roof to be very straightforward, with jug holds everywhere and good pro. I couldn't find any 5.9 on it; in fact I think the 5.8 moves into the corner beneath the roof are harder. If you're up there and not worn out, why not give it a try? It is a good "easy" 5.9 lead. It makes an already amazing climb just a little bit better.

When we got back to our packs our half-day of climbing was basically over. We had wasted a lot of time on Yellow Belly and we needed to head home soon. Clearly there wasn't time for me to try a 5.10.  But Gail and I were both eager to climb just a little more. Luckily Alphonse (5.8) was just sitting there, wide open, so we decided to do it. It is a decent choice if you are in a hurry because it can be done in one pitch and the 5.8 crux is just one move; the rest is delightful 5.6. I tried to do it like Hans Florine, moving very quickly but in control. I aimed to protect it only when strictly necessary.

I can't say I succeeded in my first effort at speed climbing. Once the route started traversing I still took my time and placed several pieces for the safety of both myself and Gail. I created terrible drag. The route basically makes a u-turn through the crux, so the drag is hard to avoid unless you really run it out through the traverse.

We returned to the house an hour late. I guess I am no Hans Florine.

5.10 Redemption? Bonnie's Roof Direct (5.9), Directississima aka Doubleissima (5.10b) & Retribution (5.10b)

 

(Photo: Eying the intimidating exit on Bonnie's Roof Direct (5.9).)

 

After two days of great climbing in Colorado, I was feeling in shape for the three-day Labor Day weekend. Gail invited us to stay at her house in Gardiner.

 

Of course Gail and I couldn't just ignore our spouses and disappear for three days. It worked out that we climbed in the morning on each of the three days, leaving the afternoons free for other activities. This worked out for both of our families and it was plenty of climbing for me. It meant that, putting the climbing days in Colorado and the Gunks together, I got to climb on five out of the nine days from August 26 to September 3. I've never had a run of climbing like that before.

 

I wanted to hit it pretty hard in the Gunks. I was climbing well in Colorado and I thought there must be a 5.10 I could slay over the Gunks weekend. For some reason I had my heart set on Directississima/Doubleissima (5.10b). I knew in advance that this wasn't the easiest 5.10 out there. Maryana had told me she thought it was really hard. Dana had advised me that it was one to save for later. It appeared super-sustained and steep. But ever since I'd done the neighboring Ridicullissima (5.10d) on top rope and really enjoyed it I had been dying to come back and try Doubleissima. I just love that steep face. It calls to me. And I thought the pro would be good, so why not try it? I told Gail I wanted to go for it on Saturday.

 

Gail suggested I try Bonnie's Direct as a warm-up, which seemed like a wonderful idea. Bonnie's is such a great classic line. The regular route, with its easyish 5.9 (historically 5.8+) first pitch and the exciting, 5.7 traversing second pitch, is one of my favorites. The first pitch was one of my first 5.9 leads in 2009, and I believe I followed it once (and then led the second pitch) in 2010, but I hadn't been back in two years, and I'd never done the direct finish.

 

 

(Photo: Leading the regular pitch two (5.7) of Bonnie's Roof back in 2010.)

 

On Saturday the first pitch was a joy. That opening roof is so satisfying. The hardest move for me is the little stretch to get to just underneath the overhang. Once you are there, you can throw a big blue # 3 Camalot into the space behind the point of the roof and go. The holds are awesome.

 

Soon enough it was time to confront the second pitch: the direct finish. People seem to think this variation is really hard. Dick Williams gives it a 5.9 rating is his book. Swain says 5.9+, and I have heard others suggest it is really a 5.10. It certainly looks challenging from below. A thin vertical crack appears to be the only means with which to surmount the big overhang.

 

But looks can be deceiving. It turns out to be pretty easy. There is a bomber edge out there. I don't want to spell it all out, but look around, people! I can see how it would be really hard using only the crack to jam your way out. But using my patented secret edge, the initial overhang is pretty straightforward, and then the exit to the top, left past another two-tiered roof, is all jugs. I think the direct finish is no harder than 5.9. It is exposed and thrilling but a little too short. Having finished both ways, I think I prefer the regular 5.7 exit.

 

After Bonnie's Direct went down so easily I was pumped up for Doubleissima. This was going to be fun.

 

Or so I thought.

 

Doubleissima kicked my ass.

 

(Photo: Gail almost through the crux bulge on Doubleissima (5.10b), after I bailed off to the right. Unlike me, she made it look easy.)

The first pitch was not a problem. There are two crack systems next to each other; both are 5.8. Gail said the one on the right has better pro, so I did that one. She also told me that most people combine this short pitch right into the next one, so I decided I would too. I got through the pitch without using any of my favorite pieces, and figured I might as well continue without stopping.

The real business begins early in the second pitch. The crux bulge comes pretty quickly off the ledge, and it is hard! The going is steep, and then a long reach is needed to get through the bulge to a good hold. There are intermediate holds but they aren't that great.

I wanted to protect this section well, so I placed one cam, and then another. Eventually I had three good cams in the crux. I wore myself out placing all the gear and fiddling with it. But the gear wasn't my only problem. I also didn't want to make the big move so I tried a number of different ways to get my feet up. Through all of this experimentation I did a mixture of holding on, then eventually hanging and falling. I don't even know how many times I went up and retreated or dropped down.

Finally I just went for the move and I made it. I was over the bulge at last, but the damage was done. My arms were on fire and with each step I wanted to place a piece because I was afraid I would peel off. The going was still so steep. I had expected it would ease off a bit more after the bulge. I was losing control. I had to admit I was defeated. At this point I desperately wanted to be off of that wall. I didn't even want to try the roof that is the second crux.

I saw a good horizontal handrail going all the way to the gully to the right and decided to bail. I headed directly across the gully to the High E rap bolts. We ended up doing less than half the second pitch. Gail, following the pitch, sailed right through the one hard part that I'd tackled.

I left Doubleissima feeling destroyed. I was totally drained afterwards. We tried to do another climb and I barely got through it. I was done for the day. I felt so wrecked I worried I might not be able to do much climbing for the rest of the weekend.

But after an afternoon at the pool and a good night's rest Gail and I had a great morning in the Nears on Sunday. (More on that later.) And on the holiday Monday, back in the Trapps, I felt like I was really climbing well again. (More on that later.) Gail suggested that we finish our weekend of climbing together with Retribution (5.10b).

 

(Photo: Gail cruising the crux moves on Retribution (5.10b).)

Now, just about everyone has toproped Retribution (and its neighbor Nosedive (5.10b)) at one time or another. It sits right there tempting you at the beginning of the cliff near the parking lot, looming directly above the carriage road. And it is so easy to set it up by running up Bunny (5.4) to the left.

For the longest time I avoided toproping or following Retribution because I was saving it for the onsight. I wanted to walk up and lead it without any rehearsal. In 2009 there were several occasions on which I nearly gave it a whirl.

But I never did, and then I broke my ankle and spent a year recovering my lead head. Along the way I gave up all that baloney about saving climbs for the onsight and ended up toproping it once with Vass, and then following both Adrian and Maryana up Retribution when they led it on separate occasions.

So when Gail suggested that I lead it on Monday I was already familiar with the demands of the climb. And I knew that even though it, like Doubleissima, is rated 5.10b, Retribution is a much much easier climb than Doubleissima. The crux is short, just moving past the little roof. The rest of the way is 5.8 or 5.9. My only real worry was that I'd get through the crux but be exhausted and then fall before getting good gear in the shallow corner directly above the roof. Or that in a spate of nervousness I'd blow the crux and never make it over the roof.

I needn't have worried. It went fine. I felt really good. My footwork was solid and the fingerlocks in the crux felt huge. I scampered past the roof and up the little corner, alarming Gail a little with how long I continued before placing gear above the roof.

This was my first 5.10b trad lead. Though I was happy about it I didn't feel like it erased my fiasco on Doubleissima, from which I stumbled off feeling like I wasn't even close to ready to lead 5.10b. But with the rosy glow of hindsight I'm starting to feel like trying Doubleissima again. Even though I failed, I was never unsafe. If I can place two of the three pieces I had last time, but put them in quickly, and then go for the move through the bulge right away-- no hesitation-- then maybe I could get it. Just maybe.

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.