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neebee
Social climber
calif/texas
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Jan 14, 2008 - 11:22pm PT
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hey there big kahuna.. say, glad to hear that climb worked out with "its good to be alive"... say, i heard and have seen that ants love rotting areas... looks like they had a field day in that spot, and even a "climb of their own" once some folks showed up...
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Mungeclimber
Trad climber
sorry, just posting out loud.
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Jan 15, 2008 - 02:48am PT
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DETO DETO DETO, RAPUNZEL!
(shades of Airplane, the movie)
let's roll. I'm hoping for close to Autumn time frame.
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scuffy b
climber
Stump with a backrest
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Jan 15, 2008 - 03:06pm PT
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OK OK
Next time I go to the Tower, I Summit.
There. I took the first step.
Tying together the Butte Batholith, Devils Tower, and
the Universal Center of Wide Tranquility or whatever they
call that place...
Could this be tough to pull off in one trip?
OOOH--how about City combined with Batholith,
then (separate trip) Vedauwoo and the Tower?
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marty(r)
climber
beneath the valley of ultravegans
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Jan 15, 2008 - 03:14pm PT
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Can you say, 'You asked for it'?
Someone needs to post up! (Not for the faint of heart!)
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SteveW
Trad climber
Denver, CO
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Jan 15, 2008 - 07:10pm PT
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McGregor Slab on Lumpy Ridge,RMNP. Lubrication, a 5.8 when I did it the first time--followed it. Went back up a few years later and led it--Holy sh*t--it wasn't this hard and the bolts weren't that far apart the first time I did it--of course, I did it on a top rope the first time, silly. Why the hell are my legs going faster than an industrial sewing machine? O god, I hope that bolt is sturdy. . .oh!!!! I finally made it (of course, this recollection is from about the pleistocene era, and all of the details have been lost to beer, drugs, and scotch, but damn, that was a looooooong runout!
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Mike Bolte
Trad climber
Planet Earth
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Jan 18, 2008 - 11:57pm PT
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I'm a little out of place posting this given some of the
experiences of some of the folks on the board, but this
will always be vivid in my mind. I think it was 1979 and
Bill Frey and I were looking for a route called "Sundial"
on the north face of Looking Glass rock in North Carolina.
Weirdly enough, the new Climbing came today and there is a
short article about a route called "The Nose" on this same
face. This is funny rock. Granite with these strange features
the locals call eyebrows all over the place.
You can see them in the photo. From below it looks for sure like
there is a ledge and a place to cram a friend in the back. I had
a #1 Friend and a #2 Friend I'd bought from Ray at C4 that summer.
Bill led the first 5.6ish pitch up to a big ledge (he is
standing there in the photo). Only one piece in 70ft but it was
easy. The #1 Friend is the only pro at the belay.
There is supposed to be a crack up on the second pitch
but we couldn't see it. No problem, it's gotta be up there
someplace.
So, off I go up the steepening face. 30 feet and I'm
getting nervous at a thin move. Good-looking eyebrow just out
of reach. Deep breath, high step and mini dyno to a major-league
disappointment. It's shallow and slopey and the #2 Friend
doesn't stick in the back: bummer. Mantle up, stand there with
my calves and brain feeling the strain. Keep moving up,
replay that move about five times in the next 50 feet and
I'm standing on another slopey ledge staring at a bigger dyno
to the next disappointing eyebrow 80 feet out with nothing
in.
I stand there, calves hitting the melting point. Bill yells
up that if I fall I'll deck. He says he's unclipped from the
belay (so we won't both die when the #1 Friend pulls) and
what do I think about him unclipping the rope from the belay,
I jump off, he yards in as much rope as he can then clips
the rope back into the cam as I go by. That way just in case
the cam holds, I won't hit the ground.
Instead, I start down climbing. A good 30 minutes later I'm
at the ledge after downclimbing a zillion unlikely moves. Every
move I'm swearing I'll never climb again if I can only get
down alive and without any lifelong injuries. I rap
down to the ground and snap the picture up there of Bill getting
ready to come down. We leave that precious Friend up at the
belay.
30 minutes later, we've spotted the REAL Sundial Crack over 100
yards from our climb. Up we go, great 5.8/9, on the rap down
manage to swing over and clean the Friend. Given that I can
hardly remember my phone number or my kids names, how can
I remember this event from 20 years ago so perfectly? This
is why we climb I think. That hour from my life is seared
into my brain.
I read later that a route called "NoseDial" was put up
between the Nose and Sundial. 5.9+ R/X. The description
sounded like our route.
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Fixdpin
Trad climber
Porterville,CA
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Jan 19, 2008 - 04:10am PT
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Race With the Devil on Spanish Highway...Parker Bluff above Johnsondale in the Kern River area. If you don't have balls, balance and boldness in your heart you will take a massive whipper and leave a big red bloody smile on the rock. The higher you go, the more run out it gets on smears and grainy edges. They just don't make em like that any more! If you look up the phrase "total commitment" in the dictionary there will be a picture of Parker Bluff next to the definition.
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knieveltech
Social climber
Raleigh NC
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Bump, this thread is awesome.
My lame addition to the thread:
I was leading the first pitch of Sentinel Buttress at Moore's Wall, maybe my 3rd trad lead. Maybe a third of the way up the route I'm struggling to find a placement in this massive flared junky crap-filled crack. My last piece (what I thought was a bomber #6 nut) is less than 10' away, so after five minutes of thrashing around in this crack with most of the cams in my rack I decide to hell with it, I should be able to find something a little higher up, so I move out. Five moves on easy terrain later I'm standing there still not seeing a viable cam placement when I get this weird feeling (something moved in my peripheral vision) so I call down to my belayer.
"What was that?"
"Uh..." *long pause* "Your last piece fell out."
"What?!!. F#CK! How run out am I??"
*even longer pause* "Uh...I don't know. A long way"
I immediately start overgripping and trying to remember what I'd placed two pieces ago, a shitty cam in a horizontal in crap rock that I'd quickly backed up with a better placement. A little quick math and I realize that if I somehow manage to pitch I'm going to rip that piece and deck from 60' up. Six months later I came to the conclusing that just standing around wasn't going to help anything and since there wasn't any pro within arm's reach I needed to move, so I make a move then freeze up again. Wash rinse repeat for another 15 feet before I spot The Prettiest #5 Camalot Placement Ever. Slugging that thing in and clipping it felt like Sweet Mercy itself descending from on high.
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JEleazarian
Trad climber
Fresno CA
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I held a 50-footer on Grack Marginal in 1972 with nothing between me and the leader. He was falling so slowly, though, that the third person in our party finally started yelling "You call that a fall?" Needless to say, not much strain on the belay.
Someone should ask Dale Bard about a couple of his early adventures. On the Dike Route on Pywiak, he got lost, ended up having the belayer tie two ropes together, and was soon 300 feet out with no pro. Then he pulled the rope out of the belayer's hands and finished as a free solo!
The other time, on the last pitch of Grack Right Side, Vern Clevenger threatened to use a belaying knife when Dale ran it out too far. Good stuff!
John
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spyork
Social climber
A prison of my own creation
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OK, this is probably nothing for all you tough guys, but here goes...
Nutjob and I talked ourselves into climbing Lucky Streaks on Fairview Dome. I took P1 and we alternated from there.
So now we get to P5 and the roof traverse. I lead out, get almost all the way across, and I sketch out. Nutjob is giving me advice, I'm not liking it but I can't see a way across. After a long time I give up and backtrack.
I decided to head up the 5.9 thin crack. Up I go, pro is a bit sketchy, but I make it to the big flake. I didn't pro the big flake, and didnt yard on it at all. I didnt like the sound of it. I had visions of it pulling, killing my partner and the party below.
I go up aways and I get level with this cave to my left, above me the thin crack becomes a seam. I place one last piece, stretch out as far as I can go, crimp something, do a foot hop and I got the right edge of the cave. I pull into the cave, then out the roof and up this 5.7 terrain.
Now looking back all I have is a small zero cam, and then lots of nothing and poor pro back down quite a aways. I was somewhat nervous/scared up to this point. Now I realized that I must not fall, and the fear evaporated. There was a flake above me, and I just worked the moves out and placed two cams and then down and left to the main crack.
I'm not really sure how far out I was. I wasnt sure if I was on the route correctly at the time. Nutjob wasnt real happy when he followed the pitch, as I recall.
I checked the Reid guide later and found out that I did follow the alternate route correctly. Wild stuff, at least for me.
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PP
Trad climber
SF,CA
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I was about 50 feet runout on the wrong water shute in the pinncales when a large group of hispanic hikers (10+) came into view and started yelling/singing spiderman songs to me. They definately added to the runout drama.
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Ferretlegger
Trad climber
san Jose, CA
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Back in 1971 I was guiding in the High Sierras for Charles Bell, the somewhat eccentric mountaineer who had made the first ascent of the Willis Wall. He had put together a small outfit in Berkeley taking kids from about 8 to 11 years old off into the Sierras for several weeks at a time, and teaching them to climb. Somehow I had been recruited to actually do most of the climbing and carrying.
On this particular trip, we had gone into the base of Mt. Whitney, and one day I had lead three 11 year old climbers up the East Buttress. We ripped up the thing in fine style and bivvied (intentionally) on top. Great fun. Several of them, Eric and Bill later became quite well known climbers in their own right.
A day or two later, we had a go at the East Face of Mt. Whitney. This time Charles Bell came along. There were the three 11 year olds, the young gun (me) and the grizzled old mountain man wandering around the face looking for the route. The East Face of Mt. Whitney is both big and somewhat obscure as far as route finding went, so we followed whatever weakness seemed to be going in the right direction and pretended that it corresponded to something in the "Route Description".
Eventually we found ourselves at the bottom of a bowl-like steep depression in the face. In the center of the depression was a huge finger of rock about 100' high. From the top of the finger, it appeared that a series of cracks lead out of the bowl and into easier ground and the summit. I started up the left side of the finger, with Charles belaying. It was fairly wide. and nothing I had with me would fit. Fortunatley, I was a wide crack fiend in those days, and didn't feel threatened. As I gained height, the crack widened to offwidth, and then to a squeeze chimney. I was happily squeezing along, with only about 10 feet to the top when I noticed that the finger, all 100' of it, was completely detached from the wall, and was rocking back and forth as I wiggled about between it and the main wall. Basically, it was a freestanding, balanced 100' domino. At this point, the 90 feet of air between me and the belayer, with no protection in, hit my mind like a lightning bolt. I was literally shaking with fear, but reasoned that if I could just climb a few feet higher, I could get an anchor into the cracks in the headwall and rap off. So I climbed the last few feet of the ever widening crack as the pillar rocked back and forth. By now, Charles and the lads had twigged to the danger of the entire pillar simply toppling off into space taking all of us to our deaths, and the howls from below did nothing to ease my mind. At last, I slithered onto the summit of the pinnacle and turned to put in the anchor. To my utter horror, there was NO CRACK!, merely a series of black water streaks. I was now marooned on a balanced, detached pillar that moved to my every motion, with 100' of empty air to the ledge below and no way up.
To say that I was terrified is nowhere near accurate. This was (and is) the most frightened I have ever been in my life. I KNEW that the only way off was to downclimb, but I felt that the probability of pushing the entire pillar off while getting back into the chimney was pretty high. My partners had done the same math, and since they had nowhere to go to escape, they knew they would share my fate. I sat there on the wretched finger for about three hours, while it swayed in the breeze. It was a truly seminal moment in my life, and much I have done since, such as long distance singlehanded ocean races has benefited from the perspectives I gained sitting there.
Finally, I eased myself over the edge and back into the chimney. Using every microcrystal I could find to keep from putting outward pressure on the flake, I oozed down the crack. After an eternity, I found myself back on the belay ledge, completely blown- physically, mentally, emotionally, psychologically, and spiritually. I was a total wreck. Fortunately Charles was an excellent routefinder, and took over the leading. Eventually, we reached the summit, and finally our high camp. I was never the same though. For 4 days, I was literally a zombie. I practically had to be led by the hand, while inside the great calculating machine dealt with the trauma. After a week or so, I regained my external appearances, but to this day, that confrontation with my inner self, my deepest fears, and the need to master them or die has shaped my life, and has probably saved that life on numerous occasions. When one has stared one's own mortality in the face like that, death has a different meaning for ever after. Rock climbers, ocean sailors, cancer patients, and other such people are not like normal folks. For my part, I have always thought that that experience has greatly enriched my life. Colors were always brighter, small things such as lichens or the smell of the bay trees in a shaded corner in Yosemite were richer, and more intense. It was, in many ways, a rebirth, with new insights into the meaning of things and a different set of priorities. Climbing is funny- one can set off for a pleasant day on the rocks with friends, and come back with an entirely new appreciation of life.
Michael Jefferson
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SMQ
climber
Grand Rapids, MI
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Sh!t, I got nothin' on Ferretlegger -- with my stones I'd probably still be gibbering to myself on top of that column -- but here's my own unworthy contribution to the thread:
After a stupid slip, solo with no pro in, I find myself hanging by just my left hand from the edge I'd been holding over a slight overhang. I'm only maybe 15 or 20 feet above the deck, but there's a bit of a sloped shelf about half-way down that sticks out far enough to make for a nasty bounce and a very awkward fall. I can get my right hand up to the edge and consider trying for the mantle, but I must not be scared *enough* -- even though people have died from less -- because I just can't find the strength to heave my 250+ over that lip.
After a couple hour-long minutes of debating the options I decide to try for a better-seeming stance to the right rather than attempt to jump and land cleanly. As I'm reaching for it my left grip gives out with no warning. Where some people say time slows and they get hyper-real senses, the only conscious thought I remember is: "did I let go?" Somehow, though, I manage to grab something loose with my right hand. It comes down with me and conks me a good one, but steadies and slows my fall enough that I land upright. I consider myself lucky to walk away with only a slightly twisted ankle and a whopper of a bruise on my arm...
...where the "loose" extension ladder hit me when I fell off the second-story roof onto the back deck. *g/d/r* ;-D
--SMQ
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Kalimon
Social climber
Ridgway, CO
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Nov 23, 2014 - 06:46pm PT
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Bump it.
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Gnome Ofthe Diabase
climber
Out Of Bed
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Dec 29, 2014 - 06:16am PT
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B . U . M . P . + . +
so.
meows from the banister says that the cat did it
but we have four cats ??
a bump tagg
Just ignore it.
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Gary
Social climber
Desolation Basin, Calif.
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Dec 30, 2014 - 07:33am PT
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Derek's story on page 1 is gripping.
I was at Tahquitz and had just led my first pitch ever, pitch 2 of Fingertip, the lie back pitch right before the traverse.
I'm anchored in at that bucket just hanging out waiting for RJ to come up. I look over to my left, and there's a guy on El Camino Real. He proceeds to pop off and take a good whipper, a rather loud whipper, too.
Then below me a guy pops into view. He must've been on Fingertrip? Anyway, he's pale as a ghost and not a happy camper. "How's it going?" I ask. "I'm lost," he says, "and 40 feet above my last pro." The desperation in his voice is pretty thick. "Would you like a bight of rope?"
About this time I start asking myself, wtf have I gotten myself into here?
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Reilly
Mountain climber
The Other Monrovia- CA
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Dec 30, 2014 - 08:14am PT
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wtf have I gotten myself into here?
Wait, you mean you didn't ask yerself that in the first place when you
decided to go climbing with RottingJohnny?
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Gary
Social climber
Desolation Basin, Calif.
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Dec 30, 2014 - 08:30am PT
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No, not THAT RJ.
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Vitaliy M.
Mountain climber
San Francisco
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Dec 30, 2014 - 10:21am PT
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Early in my leader career, and second time to Lover's Leap we ended up on East Wall. We'd just done Pop Bottle, and didn't really look at the guidebook too carefully before heading up. So there we are at the top of P1, a big sandy ledge, having no clue there the route is supposed to go. First I try the dihedral in the corner, no dice, crap for pro, lots of lichens, not it. I downclimb, scratch my head, and end up going straight up on the right.
After a couple non-reversible moves and not finding any worthwhile pro, there I am. I'm told there is some OK pro in there, but me being a noob leader, I sure didn't find it. I've lead at most 5.8 at this point, and did that in very poor style. I'm facing about 8' of liebacking with my feet on lichens, and my hands on a pretty rounded corner. Ugh. Pro is about 6' below my feet, and consists of a #6 nut sticking halfway out of a bottoming crack, and the rest will do nothing for ledgefall. Aw f*#k. Paste feet, pull on edge like my life depends on it, and start a walking. I had no clue if better stuff lie ahead, and didn't even know what I was going for, or how I was going to exit the lieback. After 8' I do a tricky exit out of the lieback, bellyflop, and pant.
Haha I remember that same spot and doing exactly that there and being really scared. It was after doing my first gear placements on knapsack and than going to Pop Bottle. lol
Most of the sketchy RO stuff I have done on FAs. It doesn't look too bad from below but than you get into it and can't place pro on climbing that is not trivial.
On the Sphinx there was a bit I didn't protect well for a while than placed a small semi ok cam and climbed up a ways up. Thought the crack above would hold good pro but it turned out to be flaring and I yanked the cam out of the same spot at least 3-4 times when testing it. I was in a shitty spot and my calves were getting pumped from trying over and over. The small cam was probably 40 ft below. So I placed that cam one more time in a direction I thought should work, but didn't test it because every time I tested the cam, it popped out! Than I went for the moves above, slipped on lichen and off I went. WOOOOOOOH like a 30 ft slide and the rope caught me! If that cam blew it wouldn't be as pretty. When I slid down, of course I saw the much easier way to get around the spot that took me like 5 minutes to commit to.
Another one was at the start of Castle Dome's SE arete, on a FA. I went a bit left and thought it would be a bit better but after about 25 ft I didn't find any pro past a small cam that I got into a flake. I was out with a newish climber, decking potential and on grainy balancy rock. Nothing to grab - smearing and stemming. Had to rock up onto my right foot and it felt really insecure from the stance I was in. The sun was on me and my fingers were sweating. Somehow I got over and placed some decent pro for the rest of the route. That got my attention.
Doing the evolution traverse car to car, tired me out and I was on the way to the top of the last peak in the dusk. Was supposed to be 4th class with some 5.4 boulder problem near the top. I saw a cool clean crack and took it. Ended up going into insecure fist jams with giant exposure on both sides and moves that were solid 5.8-9 - unroped. Than doing face climbing above the crack to get to easier terrain. I was pretty gripped there. The time of day, fatigue and exposure added to it. Maybe it wasn't as hard but I was already done for the day? Well I was happy to not fall.
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johntp
Trad climber
socal
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Dec 30, 2014 - 11:38am PT
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Lichen is not always liking. Did a seldom done route on Moro Rock. I blame EC Joe.
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