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k-man
Gym climber
SCruz
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Topic Author's Original Post - Dec 26, 2005 - 07:35pm PT
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Whoomp!! I look down left to see a large canvas sack slumped over on the floor. A fog slowly envelops the bag as dust particles ooze out from the pores of the fabric.
Whooomppp!!!! I jump. Now there's another bag lying just off my other foot. **
Friggin' dang it all, I've been sandbagged again. My friend swore I'd have a gas: "The climb is BeeYouTeeFull, great pro, a ton of fun. You climb these killer patina edges up to a finger crack, locks all the way to heaven. Seriously I don't know where they get that grade, .10b at most."
The edges turned out to be cousins of the Doritos we'd been eating the night before. Sure they were positive, but just like the chips that broke off in the salsa, the patina was snapping just before full body weight. The 'great pro' turned out to be one old 1/4" spinner (with a home-made aluminum hanger) 25' off the ground. I convinced myself that the bolt was good enough to cover me for the next 15 feet where I'd get to sink my fingers into the promised locker. Naturally, I began to sense the true nature of the beast when I arrived at the finger crack. A seam at best, I felt lucky to get a brass nut to stick. And that's it for the pro that covered the .10d entry move into "sinker crack," which in reality was a flared grove that I could barely find a hold big enough to gaston. And that's the way it stayed for the next twenty-odd feet before the crack disappeared altogether into a rolling dirt-covered shelf.
In our small world of friends, where what goes around comes around, I realized I'd been fully set up by my good buddy. Baited by the best of friends; I'd taken the hook, line, and sinker on what turned out to be a grand pay-back. Although it had been at least a year, my partner didn't allow himself to forget the joy I'd given him on "The End Of the Line."
Not that I intended to sandbag him, oh no. Quite the opposite actually. I'd had a great time on the climb. I thoroughly enjoyed the shallow .10d corner with no pro. You'd pick your way up the thin fold for about 50' where it rounded back enough to allow for a smattering of nuts. Long slings were needed here before you exited out right onto the vertical headwall. Moving up and out, you'd climb for 25' before coming across the pro that protected the final crux moves. This was noteworthy in that the "pro" was a simple knifeblade, hammered into a mailbox slot in such a way that a fall would leaver it straight out. Hey, some people like a little cream in their coffee, others like a little spice.
Oh the screaming and name calling I had to endure. I mean come on! I had enjoyed the full experience on this route and took from it a range of emotions that you normally only dream about--what's wrong with you up there?!?
[Since our ascent, the climb has been turned into a popular outing. Nothing like a few shiny retro bolts to knock the fun out of it all...]
Sandbagging comes in several flavors and it's my belief that you need to verse yourself in all its forms to protect yourself from a possibly dire situation. Indeed, you don't need to practice the art yourself, but knowing the finer points of the art form may one day save you from a healthy dose of grief.
The most cleaver rouse is the one pulled by not one but by seveal of your "friends." Beware the day after you dump too much habanero salsa into the eggs or the day after you pig out and quaff the last three icy colds. Beware the day after you drive into a muddy ditch and make everybody miss Lisa's good-bye party. "Hey, I really think you'll dig this one," you'll hear as the rack is gently nudged into your hands. "Yeah," the choir chimes in "this line is killer kewl, awsome stemming up to perfect hands."
Another method, inline with the story above, is the unintened sandbag. Sure you might have floated the line. But after working .12 friction, 5.10 slab is flatland. To the budding leader, a horror-fest starts when you are 15' above your last bolt. To someone in the groove, having to stop and place pro can be noise that just gets in the way of the flow. So when you hear "Oh, this thing is great, the crux is at the top!" look out. Especially when you're looking at the line and the protection options seem invisible.
It's hard to protect yourself from the unintended sandbag. Especailly dangerous, however, is the knowledge of this form in the hands of a master. Like a potter takes to clay, the skilled sandbag artist will dupe you to the core when they couch their ploy as unintentional. Your plight will be real and depthless.
And then there's the 'bag that is cooked up slowly, simmered to perfection. A rouse so carefully executed that you believe it when the folks camped across from you say they're running out to do the "latest 5-star route." Beware and tread carefully if everybody runs out to do the line, but your friends all seem to smile and stand back when you eagerly grab the rack for the first go.
Gathered here are a couple of short lessons in the art. Hopefully others will post their methods or, better yet, the methods that worked on them. With its clandestine cover, the art of sandbagging is often shrouded in secrecy. As such it has become an under-appreicated practice, even though it's a rich part of our climbing heritage. True, not everybody can become an absolute master. Nonetheless, to learn the art is to appreciate the art.
** The term "sandbag" apparently comes from old theater times wherein the crew would pull fast ones on the cast. The sandbag was just that, a bag full of sand that was used to counterwright the theater curtains. Above the stage in the rafters, the crew would drop the sand bags upon the innocent and unknowing, thus scaring the living Jesus out of the actors who performed below.
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healyje
Trad climber
Portland, Oregon
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Dec 26, 2005 - 08:08pm PT
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Ah, the sandbag. Like savoring fine wine running down your pants leg...
I've always admired the unintentional sandbag most - left like footprints in the clay by worthy denizens of a bygone era letting you know they were there. Kor always comes to mind first whenever I hear the term...
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TradIsGood
Trad climber
Gunks end of country
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Dec 26, 2005 - 08:19pm PT
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Then there is the occasional soft sandbag. Like putting the shorty on the occasional tall-boy routes, but with shorty options. Then hit her with the same dleivery on a route that looks "tall, but has options", with a true tall-only crux later.
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