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blackbird
Trad climber
the flat water trails...
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Dec 25, 2008 - 09:21pm PT
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Fantastic stories, and thanks SO much for sharing (and for bumping!!)
As odd as it may sound, it's stories such as these make me want to go back and "redo" my Red Rock memories so that I may better appreciate the difficult experiences from my first (and only thus far) trip. Memories currently logged into my brain are better left in the past... BAD partnering, bad timing, bad juju...
BB
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Chiloe
Trad climber
Lee, NH
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Dec 25, 2008 - 09:27pm PT
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philo
Trad climber
boulder, co.
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Dec 26, 2008 - 02:39pm PT
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That is a great picture. What a cast of characters. I know just where it was taken but who took it?
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Chiloe
Trad climber
Lee, NH
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Dec 26, 2008 - 05:16pm PT
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I know just where it was taken but who took it?
Geir Hundal and David Sampson were the other two party animals that night. We'd run into them
earlier at Desert Rock Sports too, where Joe made his first climbing-shoe purchase in decades.
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drljefe
climber
Toostoned, AZ
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Dec 27, 2008 - 11:19pm PT
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Philo- that story is very well written- vivid and...scary! I had my own epic there years ago, but it is pale in comparison.
Thanks for sharing that.
Anything less... traumatizing? I'd love to hear more- how 'bout Eagle Dance.
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Jello
Social climber
No Ut
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Dec 28, 2008 - 12:40am PT
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Awefull story, wonderfully told, Phil. Vivid, dramatic and of all things a tiny bit humorous, too. Glad Shiela was not hurt any worse than she was.
Looking forward to more such recounts from your lively fingertips (unless you're so old skool you still use pen and paper like I sometimes do).
-Jello
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BrassNuts
Trad climber
Boulder Colorado
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Dec 28, 2008 - 12:41pm PT
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Ok, not an epic story, but an amusing story that can be appreciated by all of you that have been around for a while...
A few years ago, on the way back to CO after a great time in the Needles of CA, we stopped by Red Rocks for a few days. It's late September and I'm psyched to do some climbing on the beautiful North facing walls in the canyons - where I have frozen my ass off on numerous occasions other months of the year. First on the list is Cloud Tower, a super classic RRocks crack climbing extravaganza. Almost the entire route is on the North face, but the last pitch actually faces West... I figure most of the route will be perfect temps in the shade and the last pitch might be a tad warm. We get a somewhat leisurely start. We hike by the usual crowds on Crimson Chrysalis to find Cloud Tower devoid of climbers and the temps are perfect - eggzellent! The first 5 pitches go well and the climbing is stellar. Here's a pic on the crux tips corner:
After pitch 5, a wide crack that doesn't require wide crack skills thanks to RRocks edges (Yah! no 'wide fetish' here!), pitch 6 consists of a quick squeeze through a slot and tunnel like feature that takes you over to the final pitch on the West Face. As I start into the tunnel, I can feel the heat coming towards me from the West face... Here's a pic of George coming through the tunnel:
So, it's maybe 4pm and the temps at the base of the last pitch corner are hotter than a deli roasted chicken! (Love those chickens in a bag eh?). It's so hot I can't get motivated to head up, so we decide to hide in the corner/tunnel for a while until the sun lets up... we doze off in the heat, dreaming of cold swill... Here's a pic of the final corner, roasting in the sun:
My internal alarm clock finally wakes me up reminding me that it's probably 5:30 or so and we don't have headlamps with us and it is LATE September... whoops. I head up the enduro corner which is both excellent and still super hot. I sweat so much that I think I'm gonna oooooze out of the crack for sure, but eventually I top out with chalk paste running down my arms. George comes up and we hurriedly negotiate the somewhat cheezy raps to the base. Seeing that we're short on time, I look for a fast way out up the mossy wall detour (heheheheheh):
Since that didn't work, but did make for a fun photo, we hurry back to the base of the climb to pack up as quickly as possible. When we leave the base, it's almost dark as we start heading down the many braided trails back towards the parking area. The descent becomes comical as we really get off track not far from the trailhead, near the fire ecology trail. We laugh and thrash our way through probably the only thick brush in the area until things clear enough that we can tell which way to go to reach the road. After receiving more wounds from the brush than from the climb, we find the car and drive the loop back to camp. Upon arriving, first things first and a couple of cold ones are popped to celebrate the outing. I also indulge in a quick bird bath to wash the crusted sweat from my bod. Feeling dehydrated and experiencing a fine wall buzz from a single beer, I suggest Epinepherine for tomorrow... my suggestion is met with less than optimal enthusiasm, so more beers open up and we declare the next day a drive/rest day. Moral of the story; Headlamps, we don't need no stinking headlamps!!! ;-)
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SteveW
Trad climber
The state of confusion
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Dec 28, 2008 - 01:23pm PT
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Dave
That sounds like when I took a friend up
Castleton Tower--I think in late October.
After having to wait for another party in front
of us, we prance up to the top, then get back to the
base just as dusk is deepening. I DID have a headlamp,
but my buddy. . . oops. So down we go with me in the lead
for a bit, and of course getting off Castleton in the
dark is about as much fun, but we ended getting cliffed,
not scratched as you & George did. Finally, working our
way through the maze with a single headlamp, we descend to
the camp/car, one beer, no two for me, then collapse.
No din din, just bed. . .
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philo
Trad climber
boulder, co.
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Dec 28, 2008 - 02:15pm PT
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Dave that was great! I could feel the heat on George's face. Thanks for the fun story and nice pics.
SteveW, although technically this is a thread about climbs on rock that is red,
shouldn't you start a Canyonlands thread for that story?
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SteveW
Trad climber
The state of confusion
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Dec 28, 2008 - 02:42pm PT
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Philo
I know. . .
but Castleton's rock is red, if not in NV. . .
more a comparison to Brass Nuts' descent fun. . .
Besides, you two tell stories so much better than I!!!!
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philo
Trad climber
boulder, co.
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Dec 28, 2008 - 02:55pm PT
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How would we know? You never post up any stories. lol
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SteveW
Trad climber
The state of confusion
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Dec 28, 2008 - 03:32pm PT
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Believe me Phil--your's, Dave's, Crimpie's and L's
stories are the ones to be measured by. And mine just
don't measure up. . . plus, I'm hoping to maybe get a few
slides scanned from my collection, maybe if they turn out okay,
I'll post a few. . .
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philo
Trad climber
boulder, co.
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Dec 28, 2008 - 04:15pm PT
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Please scan on!
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Captain...or Skully
Trad climber
North of the Owyhees
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Dec 28, 2008 - 11:39pm PT
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Big bump for climbing story Masters!
That IS the Shizz, & that's what it's all about.
Thanks.
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John Moosie
climber
Beautiful California
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Dec 29, 2008 - 01:13am PT
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Thanks for the Great stories.
Holy shizzle Philo. That injury story had me gripped.
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Prod
Trad climber
A place w/o Avitars apparently
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Dec 29, 2008 - 01:36pm PT
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Great stories guys.
My Red Rocks stories can’t touch those of major FA’s or epic rescues, but I do love the place. On a recent trip there I had dinner with Brass Nuts and we both agreed that if we could only climb 1 place for the rest of our lives it’d be Red Rocks.
My first trip was with Will Nichols, aka Unibonger, in 92 or maybe 93. Night 1 we stayed at the camp ground across from the gypsum plant, that sucked. The next 3 we slept in the parking lot of BVC. We climbed Rock Warriors, Dream of Wild Turkeys, and something else in Black Velvet which currently escapes me. What I remember most about that trip was laying under the stars after we smoked a joint and trying to eat Altoids, first time I'd had those, without chewing them. Then laughing our asses off when one of would say "oh sh#t I just chewed it." I know it’s not that funny but we were stoned. Later that night I remember awakening and running for the car scared out of my mind by some ungodly noise about 15 feet away. I had never heard a burro bay that close. We were both searching for our lights to figure out what was about to eat us, then we turned the head lights on and started laughing when we saw the Burro. That one still gives me a chuckle. Other than that I think Will flashed Fear and Loathing, and I hung my way through it.
My next trip to Red Rocks didn’t come for another 12 or 13 years, when I brought Christa there. This was her first time to climb multi pitch trad stuff. It was also my first time having a partner that would cry, I am now getting more used to this but I still do not like it too much. I also now get commentary on my leading as I am leading, “It’s been a long time since you put a piece in” “I know hun, it’s ok” “I was just checking if you knew how run out you were” “SWEETS, I GOT IT” “ok, don’t get mad at me” “Sweets, let me get through this section then we can talk ok?”.
Since Christa and my first trip to Red Rocks we have been 2 more times. The last trip was over Thanksgiving she only almost cried having to follow an easy but run out traverse, the end of which was a hanging belay made of trad gear (pitch 5 on Jubilant Song). She really really did not like that and asked if I would make another belay at the first ledge I came to. 2 nights later we got engaged in the Red Rocks campground while eating brats and drinking Scotch. I guess that last part could be considered Epic?
Prod.
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philo
Trad climber
boulder, co.
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Dec 29, 2008 - 01:37pm PT
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OK instead of yet another self indulgent bump here is another climbing related Red Rock story. I'm not just blowin' smoke here this really is climbing related.
Having experienced the delights of twelve surgeries on the same knee in a ten year span. Having reveled in the joy of twelve rehabs in the same time period. And having the oh so special opportunity to learn to crawl, walk, run and climb a dozen extra times in a decade. I have developed an abiding appetite for herbal alternatives to pain treatment. Sure I pounded down my share of pills and the post operative needles were, when they finally started working, just so dreamy. But if not for my use, some might say abuse, of Mother Nature's finest I would surely be a strung out pill junkie.
So you are probably asking what has this got to do with Red Rock climbing? Everything would be my answer. Because as my leg is still attached to me I am still attached to my pain treatment of choice. Strictly for medicinal purposes I assure you.
There I was at the baggage claim in McCarren. Airlines don't appreciate "loose" items in your baggage. And Nevada has some strict agricultural restrictions so I arrive dry in that parched land. Usually I drive which makes luggage restrictions less of an issue. But this time, well it could be a pain.
Fortunately a four wheeled friend arrived to whisk me away for an extended roust a bout. Fortunately for me my climbing partner friend was, as he had learned in scouts training as a lad, always prepared. We climbed and had a great time!
But then it came time for him to return to reality while I planned on staying on. Before driving away he "grub staked" me with provisions enough for several feasts. What a friend! I climbed and had a great time!
But then it came time for me to check my bags and venture into the (un)friendly skies. I still had plenty of painless meals with me. What to do? Can't cache anything at local friends houses. Violations of agricultural restrictions in Nevada are pretty punitive. Can't leave anything behind in a conservation district. Can't just consume it all before flight time as that would be needlessly wasteful and no doubt exceptionally awkward. Ahh now I have the plan. Utilizing an all too ordinary yet easily identifiable container I proceeded to clandestinely secret my meds away in what I hoped was a recognizable landmark. A cactus just outside the official boundry. All safe and ready for my next sandstone sojourn.
But I didn't make it back until after a huge ground fire had swept through the area leaving it blackened an unrecognizable. No one thought I would ever find it again. They patiently waited in the get away car while I repeatedly scoured the desert. For days the search continued till my friends were barely willing to assist me in yet another try. This was not something you could put on a milk carton after all. I have to admit it was a pain. With my friends I barely had a leg to stand on when, believe it or not, of all things, there it was right where I left it not 18" outside the burn line. Whew. I climbed and had a great time.
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philo
Trad climber
boulder, co.
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It was 28 years ago today that the Madman and I finished the first ascent of the Res. I still clearly remember waking up New Years Day on Sherwood Forest to a crystalline frosty blue morning and a sunrise to "live" for. It was magical!
I just exchanged Happy New Year greetings with both Jimmy Newberry and the Madman and I am immensely gratified that all these years later we are all still great friends. And then I realize that compared to wearing dirt for a shirt, LIFE is GOOD! And good friends are GREAT!
Happy New Year all!
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Chiloe
Trad climber
Lee, NH
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Headlamps, we don't need no stinking headlamps!!! ;-)
Fine photos and a good story from Cloud Tower, Dave. You made the crux sound casual!
Historical footnote:
Joe gave the whole formation that name BITD, before any routes in the canyon were climbed.
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Chiloe
Trad climber
Lee, NH
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Prod's and Philo's stories remind me for some reason of my least-favorite Red Rock bivy.
It happened while my son and I were car camping at the old Oak Creek campground, which
(for those too young to recall) was characterized by great views and lots of deep
red sand.
On this particular night there was a strong windstorm, blasting sand around so hard it
chased us out of the tent. We slept in the car instead, which was stifling hot because
the slightest window opening filled the car's airspace with sand. The vehicle rocked
like a boat all night from the wind.
Meanwhile, in Las Vegas, there had been a Grateful Dead concert that same night. Large
quantities of Deadheads made it out to Oak Creek afterwards in high spirits, so mixed in
with the sandstorm we could hear hellraising and arrests going on.
Sweltering sleeplessly in our sand-filled, rocking car, we spent a miserable night.
Sport climbing was all we could manage the next day.
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