Discussion Topic |
|
This thread has been locked |
Broken
climber
Texas
|
|
|
Feb 16, 2007 - 11:47am PT
|
and then there was the time that my rope froze in a patch of sunlight/slush 60 feet below me on the ice... couldn't downclimb to it. I was usually able to free it by yarding on the rope with one hand. But it took a lot of juice - and if there wasn't somewhere bomber to bury my axe so I could pull on the rope... well, not good times. Bad times.
Whenever I stopped to place a screw or figure out a move, it froze... The solution? Keep moving!
(of course, it became more complicated than that... out of screws, 50 feet above the last piece, rope frozen, 20 more feet to the belay....ah....)
|
|
Zam
Trad climber
San Francisco
|
|
|
Feb 16, 2007 - 01:03pm PT
|
Ran out of rope on Black Uhru in TM, as there are no anchors. Had to unclip and downclimb the whole thing just as the sun went down. I think I was too stupid to realize what I was doing, of course, I throught I was two routes to the right, also, so stupid was definately a factor.
|
|
Moof
Trad climber
A cube at my soul sucking job in Oregon
|
|
|
Feb 16, 2007 - 01:35pm PT
|
Still early in my leader career we went up to Guttenberg Wall in Cosumnes River Gorge. We picked a 5.7 bolted line on the far right edge to be different from our well worn normal 5.7 up the thing. The topo shows very few bolts, but I figure it's artistic license or something.
We'd been on the first shared pitch several times before, no biggy.
The second pitch was easy 4th class for the most part, but the river roar made communications impossible. My usual partner took this pitch. Somehow he used the whole rope and took forever to build an anchor. Turns out he tried to link up to the third pitch anchor, ran out of rope, downclimbed to a small stance and yelled for slack to be reeled in before downclimbing further. Of course I heard nothing, and being 4th class I had no idea there was a pile of slack under him. You never yard on a leader...
Fiasco finished and we moved up the short third pitch where the route actually gets some steepness.
I get racked up and start looking for the "route". It's not a popular route, no white path of wear amongst the lichens. I eventually spot a bolt (and not a shiny one) a ways up. A long ways up. After a good 35' of runout on small edges and crap divits I get to the rust beard with one of those recalled leeper's at it's top with the remnants of 1/4" pound in sort of holding it there. Joy. I clip it, hoping it won't pull under the weight of my draw and contemplate death. Looking down I note that right below my buddy and his wife is the low angle ramp I'll bounce off of when I fall.
I start scoping for bolt #2. Great, can't see it. I put my face against the rock and see something poking out about 40' higher. Great! It has to be better than this bolt, right? This section is not just lichens and edges, but some of the edges are actually only semi attached. You know that bad feeling you get when you realize that handhold you put lots of effort into avoiding dues to the 8" cracks what opened up when you pulled on it is now your foothold? Yeah, I do too.
40' more done, same vintage bolt, longer rust beard. Nothing I trust between me and that lovely ramp. Joy.
I repeat the excersize of locating the next bolt. Crap, can't see it. I remember that somewhere out left is another route. It has to have better bolts, right? I slowly move up and left. Nothing really defines this route, so I'm not really leaving behind the comforts of an obvious line. Soon I see them. Two shiny gifts from heaven. I've hit the motherload! After another eternity of "must not fall" I'm at an anchor with two fat shiny bolts. I clip them both, and suddenly the whole world is 15 degrees less steap. I can see where ther top rap station is and have no problem getting there. Life is good. I'm spent.
|
|
scuffy b
climber
The town that Nature forgot to hate
|
|
|
Feb 16, 2007 - 05:28pm PT
|
At Sespe Gorge there's a dividing line between good rock and bad
rock. Crossing that line sets one up for groundfall potential
on Pitch 2, A3 protection and footholds that can be moved by hand.
|
|
BrentA
Gym climber
Roca Rojo
|
|
|
Feb 16, 2007 - 05:38pm PT
|
New pitch right of Aurora coming in from Scorched Earth...maybe 8 or ten or something????/
Three 15 foot cheater stick hook moves to blind edges in a row...
Jah's truth...
|
|
Pappy
Trad climber
Atlanta
|
|
|
Feb 16, 2007 - 05:45pm PT
|
Unfortunately, rounouts are just a fact of life in NC, but at least you know that the FA managed to do it without dying. What's bad is when you do it to yourself because you're STUPID.
Doc Bayne, ML and I were putting up a new route in '95, and late in the afternoon Doc and I get to the top of P3 with one more to go. We decide it's too late to finish that day, and the last pitch looks like it's going to be pretty trivial anyway and we've done the meat. So we put some stuff in a bottoming horizontal--half driven baby angle, #1 tricam and hex that we plaster in with a hammer--just good enough to rap off. The ethic is that you don't drill unless there is no other option. The next week Doc can't even be bothered to finish the line and starts a new one to the right while ML and I climb up to finish things off. We're taking things lightly and ML clips into the mank for an anchor while I lead out.
So I climb up to a spot where I can reach up to a horizontal and find that it's a bit rounded and slopey. In fact, it's kind of in my face and there's nothing in the way of feet and I'm futzing about and ML asks what's taking so long. I'm getting pissed that I'm climbing like a pansy so I get the best hands I can and launch up in to a mantle and damned if the rock isn't still kind of in my face, what the hell happened to the low angle slab that was supposed to be here? I'm pawing my foot up trying to get it onto the sloping horizontal that really isn't that damn wide after all before I pitch off backwards and with sudden perfect clarity I realize that I can't back out of this, I'm likely to fall, and if I do I'm going 20' straight onto the crappy anchor and both of us are going 300' to the ground. Like a laser my mind goes right to what needs to be done and I push through and stand up. Then I freak.
Now I shuffle over right to a water groove and am happy as sh#t to get a shallow TCU in and the horror is over. I'm just shaking my head that I'm climbing that poorly and the groove still feels steep and really slick, but there's another little horizontal about 15' higher and I sketch up to that, but it turns out to be a flared rounded POS and the TCU that might have fit it is 15' down, but what the hey, I'm on trivial ground now. So I figure out how to slot an RP in sideways so that it hangs behind a little crystal, just to give myself a little mental edge after the horror of the mantle, and it looks like in another 25' the angle kicks back and it should be really trivial. So I'm pawing up the groove and it's really slick and there just isn't the kind of feature that you expect in a low angle groove and I'm beginning to sketch and about 15' out from the silly RP I realize that I do after all have the damn bolt kit with me and I could just drill something and be done with the stress. But I'll be GODDAMMED if I'm going to put a bolt in our new route on what I'm sure is 5.7 ground just because I'm climbing like a damn pussy. Besides. my feet are barely sticking anyway and there's nothing like a stance and I'm beginning to freak again and 10' up and left I see this beautiful, sharp, thank god flake. Thankfully, the laser part of the mind takes over again and with ninja like precision I work up the slight ripples that I know are just 5.7 even though I'm climbing like sh#t so that they feel really hard until I can sink two socker jams behind the flake and then a big fat unit. I lean back to tell ML that this fiasco is finally over and he's like, 60' down there still clipped to that crappy anchor and damned if it doesn't look a lot steeper from above than it looked from below, and down around the one TCU between me and him there's a biner on the rope with a little RP hanging off it.
Subsequent ascentionists have settled the grade of the mantle at 10d, but being smarter people they have drilled two fat bolts for an anchor. I still get calls occassionally from people who want to add a bolt to the groove above there because they think it borders on unjustifiable at 10a without one, but I tell'em FU, I lived, you can just do it the same way. Not that I would know if they did because I have nb intention of going through that again myself.
|
|
kev
climber
CA
|
|
|
Feb 17, 2007 - 05:16pm PT
|
bump - this is climbing related....
|
|
Mungeclimber
Trad climber
sorry, just posting out loud.
|
|
|
Jan 12, 2008 - 03:25am PT
|
bump - yes indeed this is climbing related, and picture to BOOT....
Munge in Repose, freaked out mind tweaking repose, but still...
2 shitty pieces in damn near a full rope length. wtf was I thinking? LOL
|
|
neebee
Social climber
calif/texas
|
|
|
Jan 12, 2008 - 04:04am PT
|
hey there... man, you guys sure got maximum "steel gut" power...
say, some of this leads to stuff i dont fully understand of course... is there anyone here that does great diagrams...?
i'd reaaly like to see more of what the belay does, and what some of the lay looks like, and what the trouble spots look like, by way of a neat-cool diagram....
if anyone can add one here, that would be really neat... thanks guys---just cursious to let it all sink in better, since i aint a climber... but sure would love to "see it all" under the magnifying-scope so to speak...
|
|
BASE104
climber
An Oil Field
|
|
|
Jan 12, 2008 - 11:11am PT
|
I took a hundred footer once! I was 18 and thought that I could do anything, so I didn't give it a second thought. It was just a smear fest, 5.10b, with one bolt right off of the belay, and no more pro. About ten feet below the end of the pitch I just started sliding, and that was that.
I looked like somebody took a bench grinder to me after I got down. I still have nightmares about that one.
As for Walt, if you ever watched him solo, he would start vibrating and you just had to turn your head and look away.
There is this one story about him soloing one of the ski tracks. I think it was the right one. He pitches off the crux and lands on a tourist. Both were unhurt.
|
|
Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
|
|
|
Jan 12, 2008 - 01:07pm PT
|
I posted this elsewhere but I think it works here too!
For your Stratolounging pleasure with the background music of your choice , ole' blue eyes or the Vicious, its all good!
MY WAY
And now, the end is near
And so I face the final curtain.
My friend, I’ve got no gear,
The landing’s bad, and I’ll be hurtin’.
I’ve lived a life that’s full
But now I’m gonna hit the highway.
A chump, a dumb ass chump,
I did it my way
Runouts, I’ve done a few
But then again, too few to mention.
I did what I had to do
And saw it through without protection.
I planned each shaky move,
But this just really isn’t my day.
No pro, no freakin’ pro.
I did it my way.
Yes there were climbs, I’m sure you knew,
When I bit off more than I could chew.
But on this line, there is no doubt,
It ate me up and spit me out.
I’m gonna fall and bite the wall
And did it my way.
I’ve loved, I’ve laughed and cried.
I’ve had my fill, my share of boozing.
And now, as tears subside,
I find this not at all amusing.
To think I’ll auger in
And may I say, not in a calm way
No, oh no not me!
I did it my way!
For what is a man, what has he got?
With no piece in sight, you ain’t got squat.
To yell the things he truly feels
Cartwheeling down, after he peels!
The record shows I took the blows
And did it my way!
|
|
divad
Trad climber
wmass
|
|
|
Jan 12, 2008 - 02:54pm PT
|
Hey Terrie,
When I saw this I thought what another good thread by Happie.
Then I noticed that it's almost a year old. Wonder how I ever missed it. I guess it was before I was spending so much time here. (Damn, I gotta get back to those days.)
Many years ago, when I knew just about enough about climbing to get myself killed, I launched up the 2nd pitch of Tequila Mockingbird at the Gunks. I soon found myself off route and nearing 20 ft. above my last pro. Although the climbing above looked doable, it was obviously unprotectable. To me, climbing has always been about making decisions and this was a big one, to continue up and increase the distance of a potential fall, or to try to downclimb and search for any protection possibilities. I soon found myself in a position where going down was out of the question and going back up was going to harder as the pump factor was ramping up very quickly. After what seemed like 20 minutes in one spot on desperatly thin holds I began to whimper but immediately told myself to shut the fu*k up as I had chosen to be here doing this. I was thinking how agonizing the last moments of my life were going to be as the fall potential became reality.
When it finally happened, I actually felt some relief from the desparation of trying to hang on. Upon coming to after 10 minutes, (I was later told) the first thing I can remember thinking was why the grey shirt I was wearing was now red. Soon I could feel a slight burning sensation on my forehead and was beginning to realize that I had fallen and was injured. As my head began to clear I could hear my partner calling from above and asking if I was OK. After assuring him I was, the lowering process started, and soon I was on the ground, surprised to see a litter and assembled group of climbers and rangers. When I blurted out that I was fine, there were a few laughs and a stern voice telling me to get in the litter.
At the hospital I can recall the ER doc say: "I'm not touching this. Call a plastic surgeon."
Upon release on the same day, my partner told me that I took a clean 40+ ft. whipper but that the rope pulled off a 50lb. block that grazed my head while I hung upside down. What luck!
After many years of climbing and more than several leader falls I still never give in to the thought that a fall is inevitable and I don't think that I have ever yelled "falling". Maybe it's denial, caused by this incident, or maybe brain damage, haha.
Who knows?
|
|
SteveW
Trad climber
Denver, CO
|
|
|
Jan 14, 2008 - 06:03pm PT
|
This isn't a Happie topic!!!!!
|
|
hobo_dan
Social climber
Minnesota
|
|
|
Jan 14, 2008 - 06:13pm PT
|
I wrote this earlier but it is about pitch number two on One Way Sunset- Devils Tower
and more Devils Tower
In 1986 in July I had locked up the group site at the campground and was charging people a couple of bucks to camp there- things were fine until some guy who could add figured out I was making a profit- then he wanted a piece of the action so I gave up my concession then it rained and and everyone left and the guy ended up losing money on the deal
Anyway these two guys roll up in a VW bus from Middlebury College- they have been living on Tortilla chips for the last two days. For camping one of them is sleeping under the van. They seem to have the right "attitude" so we begin climbing together.
HJ Schmidt and Thatcher Fields. We climb Carols Crack and then Mr. Clean. I fall on both routes. But with a little tight rope i get up.
Bill Meyer arrives from Boulder with Cyndy? He and HJ have ambition and they go off to climb mythical lines-some Grateful Dead song route with a roof at 5.12? I tried looking it up in my Dingus McGee guidebook but the hardest route is only 5.11.
HJ pulls the roof and then attempting to clip in a piece the rope jams and things get ugly-at least for HJ- I did not see it but I heard it was very entertaining watching him tug and tug and tug......20 vertical feet later all is well. And a story is born.
The fall had grown to 50 feet the last time I saw HJ- and maybe it was. I'll see him this summer and I expect nothing less.
Thatcher and I are now relegated to the B team so we go to do the "mega classic" One Way Sunset. Low angle, fingercrack, great pro-10c I suppose if you had sausage fingers it would be classic but being skinny and wiry I rattled all the way up the 1st pitch.
At the belay I want out but we had told some guy named Taurus that we would get his abandoned hex from pitch two out for him. I suggest that we go down but Thatch shames me into continuing.
Pitch two is Tower 5.9-very long. The pitch starts with wonderful hands. It is being fed nicely by my rack and as it goes higher its hunger continues and it wants more and bigger pieces. Eventually, I have fed it all I can but it is insatiable. The crack keeps growing wider.I am down to my last number 3 friend. I leap frog it for as long as i can but 40 feet from the belay is the last place it will go in. It keeps getting wider and I have nothing big enough to satisfy. (funny how climbing can mirror life).
I turn off my head and start to climb "efficiently" this works for about 10 feet and then my body informs me that we are a long way from home. At twenty feet I am unhappy. At thirty feet I start to cut deals with God. If he will just let me travel ten more feet I promise I'll be good-he knows better-but he gives me the ten feet and I was very glad to get to the anchors.
Anyone else have fun on this route?
Murf
|
|
scuffy b
climber
Stump with a backrest
|
|
|
Jan 14, 2008 - 06:24pm PT
|
Sorry to say, Murf,
but when I went to the Tower (only once, wahhh)
my partner (local knowlege) told me we would
not be doing the upper pitches of things due to size and quality.
Some ever-expanding gear-eating cracks I merely looked at:
P3 of Mr Clean, p3 (or p2)of Tulgey Wood.
I've heard other stories of people running out of gear 1/2 way
up some of those upper pitches.
|
|
Toker Villain
Big Wall climber
Toquerville, Utah
|
|
|
Jan 14, 2008 - 07:57pm PT
|
Last pitch on the FA of the Spearhead (via Iron Messiah) I ran it out 80' on relatively easy face, but the sandstone edges were very friable so I was more concerned with snapping holds than slipping.
Later I called the pitch 5.4X on the topo.
Later still somebody told me that they went another way BECAUSE THEY COULDN'T SEE THE BOLT.
Apparently it hadn't occured to them that an easy pitch could still be very serious so they assumed that the X represented a protection bolt.
Doh!
Only one of my routes is unprotected enough to hit the ground if one falls from the second pitch, but Full Metal Jockstrap has a few runouts (although the harder moves have good pro).
Still, a well used line about no old bold climbers comes to mind.
You have to choose your moments.
|
|
Ksolem
Trad climber
Monrovia, Ca
|
|
|
Jan 14, 2008 - 08:40pm PT
|
How about Misadventure (or is it Miss Adventure) in The Meadows. Somewhere on the first pitch I was waaaay above a bolt and did some hardish moves to get my hands on a sloping horizontal feature. This proud route is stance bolted so one must get stood on this feature to clip. There was a nice little knob to step up on with the right foot, and everything was looking fine: Right foot on the knob, left up on the horizontal just so, and press it out. But, as luck would have it most of the knob broke off just before my left foot was placed. It never occurred to me the knob would break, as good as it looked. I came off, but somehow in one of those completely transcendental moments, I held the sloper in my hands. I heard my belayer scream, but I stuck it.
Of course I still had to do the move. Looking at it I saw there was enough of the knob left that it was basically the same deal. We finished the route and lived to tell the tale.
|
|
Big Kahuna
Ice climber
Hell Hardest climb I did was getting out of bed.
|
|
|
Jan 14, 2008 - 08:52pm PT
|
This was written many years ago but it gives me quite laugh every time I read it. Sorry for all the profanity but the dialog is as accurate as I could remember. It was fairly sporty due to the nature of the sandy grainy rock.
The Breakfast Club
So there we were, at the "breakfast club" (a table full of SAR GUYS, SAR = Yosemite search and rescue) some of them (SARS) are "GROVELING"(eating left over food that the tourist don't throw away) and my wife asks "What are you doing?" A SAR boy looks up and replies "groveling what else!"
My friend "MONKEY BOY" tells me I should go get on Selagenilla a 5 pitch 5.8. He said "take the Commitment a 3 pitch 5.9 to get to the start of it, ending in a total of eight pitchs altogether. Take the Yosemite Falls trail back down to the valley and we'll have some beers tonight !
A tourist looks over in disgust at another SAR BOY groveling some leftovers from yet another table. "JIM I" comes over with his girlfriend, an employee from the cafeteria. The SAR boys start to drool as she leaves them 4 big pancakes, bacon & eggs. They all dig in and feast. Another one grabs a coffee cup from a recently vacated table and gets a free refill. Another tourist leaves a danish half eaten and it's desert for the "club".
Kelle' & I leave to start our day of climbing. After a short walk we find the base of our route. We fire off the first route no problem. We are rewarded with a scenic view of the Lost Arrow Spire. Three fantastic pitches with no crowds and a nice little roof move just to make it a little fun. What more could we have asked for!
At the breakfast club Kelle' had got most of the beta on how to find Selaginella from "MONKEY BOY", (a.k.a "THE COILER") when I went to the bath room so I didn't hear much of it first hand. After topping out on the Commitment we were to head up and right, find a 3rd class ramp, traverse it, then head up 5.8 crack.
We found a ramp as we gazed at the wall in awe, belays and slings were everywhere (not a good sign). Routes seemed to be all over the place. We rejoiced after climbing three wonderful pitches, and were rewarded with this beautiful place all to ourselves, away from the crowds of people and the hordes of climbers monopolizing the standard classic routes, forcing long lines and lots of sitting on your @ss.
I set up a belay for Kelle' on a tree. We were being attacked by a army of fire ants, I tell my wife to fire the first pitch off and head for the tree. I start killing the ants but they just keep coming. They are biteing me. Hundreds at a time I kill them. I belay my wife. The ants keep coming like some creepy sci-fi movie, I'm being eaten alive. I keep killing them, ten, twenty at a time.
Kelle' disapears around the corner. She screams "oh' sh#t, - F*#k, - F*#k, - AHHH, - uhg, - Ahh"! I asked "Are you ok ?" She replies "The rock is rotten & sandy, and to make matters worse the crack is filled with dirt!" "God I made it, off belay" she yells.
I follow up the traverse, there were no places for her to put in any pro, so if I fell it would have been a "king swing". I hit the traverse, do a small down climb and see Kelle' at the belay, I climb up towards her, "Sh#t this is bad! Man this sucks! Dam how did you? F*#k this sucks, it's so insipid."
I make the belay "Nice lead hon' you did a good job on that one." (It was one of those pitches that you're secretely glad that you weren't on the sharp end) "Thanks" she said. I thought our belay was somewhat dubious and expressed my feelings. Kelle' pipes "You said "head for the tree!" "That's not a tree thats a rotten log, let's back it up with something."
She places a cam in and hands me the rack. The next pitch starts out a ramp that turns into a chimney. The ramp is straight foreward but no place for any pro (again). I get into the crack and get a peice in. It gets steep, real steep, I'm "way" overhang'n. I get a double shoulder lock, this a cool chimney I think to myself. I back step off the back wall and get a funky knee bar. I'm now completely inverted in this large man eating crack. I'm now to the point that my back is pointed to the ground. I'm almost horizontal in this thing.
"Go Lon your a wild man thats cool, crank it" she yells "you can do it!". I find a deep fingerlock inside, I pull up and find a small ledge that I can stem up. I'm run out from my last pro. The chimney widens again and I get another double shoulder lock this time I find a place for pro but I can't get to my rack, I'm screwed. Gotta run it. I go for it, another back step, a knee lock with a pull up and the angle eazes up finally, the route becomes manageable.
I get to the top and find some rotted slings, I look over and see a hangen' belay with two prehistoric rusty old bolts. The line heads up to a tree high on the wall. Kelle' takes the next pitch. It starts out a short 20 ft crack, then traverses on a sloping dike.
She starts the pitch "I don't know about this pro". "What do you mean you don't know? Just back it up then." "F*#k Lon this rock is rotten!" "Just cross the dike and grab that horn" I yelled to her. "F*#k Lon it's bad" she yelled. "Just grab the Horn". "I can't make it" she insisted. "Come on baby you can do it". "F*#k man, I don't, F*#k, I'm sh#t, I'm coming down YOU can have this one". "Ok, I'll lower you". "NO!! I'LL DOWN CLIMB. I don't like the pro" she screamed. "Ok" and down she climbed.
She gave me the rack. I look up, no problem. I cruised up the crack, hit the dike and immediately broke off part of the dike (yikes). I hit a sheild like flake, it's fractured. I thought to myself "I'd like to take that rotten peice of rock for a Tae Kown Do demo, one front punch and I would turn that peice of granite into sand. God, how I could impress people with my technique and power. "Jeez, this crap is holden' my pro" I laugh to myself.
I blindly place a zero TCU. This damn thing isn't going to do dick in a fall I think to myself. Oh' well, its' psychological at least. I'm crankin' hard on a small sloping dike, my right foot is placed up high and to the right in a stretched out fashion on a very small edge. My left is smeared on a small sloper way down and out to my left. I'm completely streched out.
"Go Lon. Come on baby you can do this" she screams. F*#k! the flake is rotten. "I know it's bad up there. Don't fall" she states. The dike was breaking off on me. "Come on, you can make it" she encourages me. I shift my weight, more pressure on my right foot, a little more on the dike. How much can the dike hold before it breaks, I wonder? Suddenly I wish I was a wippit thin 185 lb sport climber.
I shift again crimping hard. My arm is fully extended. I reach under the rotten flake, it's to F*#KING BIG for a fist jam, I'll have to do a straight arm bar and prie into it. I get deeper and deeper. My feet are slipping, I let go of the crumbling dike with my left hand (finally), I lean back on my arm bar, the horn is near. Sweat is dripping down my face.
I start to have that talk with God, the one I always have with him. It's always the same I tell him that I'll quit climbing if he only lets me make this move and live. He knows I'm lying to him but he always gives me a break and let me do the move.
I reach my left arm up and over, then around my head to my right side to grab the horn. My left hand hits it. I might live. I pull out my right arm from the undercling arm bar jam. I throw for the knob, my feet pop, I'm 25 ft off the belay on a one hander (gee, what fun). I grab the horn, my heart beats like a herd of Rhinos, hang on I think to myself, I want to live! I'm getting pumped, way pumped.
My wife yelled "come on LON". I get a solid hold of it with my right hand, my feet smeared on the rock. I'm gripped. I let go with my left and grab a runner off my neck. I sling the horn. CLIP, ...OH' F*#K ME, that was close! I pull up myself up to nothing, blank, zip, notta ...just 5.10 plus smearing, no pro on dirty rotten grainy rock, not my idea of fun climbing.
"Screw this! Let's see if this horn will hold me and I'll lower off." I hollered. After all I already had one conversation with God that day and I did'nt wish to press my luck.
Kelle' lowers me down while I clean the route. We flip the line to get the sling back (I set it up so it could be retreived). I down climb the other side of the chimney to a small tree with rapel slings on it. I lower Kelle' off the slings from the top. We make a few more raps and we are back on the main ledge ALIVE and in ONE piece. God its good to be alive!
By Lon Harter
|
|
Jaybro
Social climber
The West
|
|
|
Jan 14, 2008 - 09:19pm PT
|
Scuff, you never topped out on Deto? Let's go back there! There's a zillion rtes we could have meaningful times on; belaying or team soloing. I've seen you solo scarier shee. Generally the bidnis is lower at the tower, but you gotta get to the summit a few times (it's a harney peak/black Elk thing,) for full perspective! you can view to and beyond the bighorns to the west, and the blackhills to the east.
|
|
O.D.
Trad climber
LA LA Land
|
|
|
Jan 14, 2008 - 10:17pm PT
|
Wow, Munge -- it brought back great memories to see that photo from the Apron. The Grack Marginal was one of my first climbs in the Valley and my very first 5.9 lead as a snot-nosed high-schooler, way, way back in the day (pre-sticky rubber). But the ratings at my home crag were so badly sandbagged, and long run-outs were so commonplace, that when I finished it I thought the Marginal was cake.
|
|
|
SuperTopo on the Web
|
Let us know!