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wayne w
Trad climber
the nw
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Feb 19, 2009 - 04:29am PT
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Steve, thanks for keeping me awake many nights after checking out the Taco before bed and reading your posts. With those stories and images running through my head, some I had never read, and others I hadn't read in years, the inspiration provided by same invariably caused much tossing and turning before finally getting some zzzz's. Now I only read them earlier in the day...ha!
Seriously, I really appreciate your hard work and effort in regard to putting them out there for the community, especially those younger climbers who likely will only get a chance to see them here.
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pk_davidson
Trad climber
Albuquerque, NM
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Feb 19, 2009 - 08:41pm PT
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Steve alluded to problems with Leeper hangers.....
Stung by a Wasp
(or was it The Evil Eye)
I've known Steve for a very long time now. All the way back to Mansfield Jr. High.
We would go on to be debate partners for my Jr and Sr year at good ole Tucson High School.
We were pretty decent, winning a few tourney's here and there, making
it to 1/4 finals in the regional tournament.
But we weren't climbing partners, yet that is.
It wasn't until May 31st 1975 of my senior year that Steve talked me into going climbing.
My life would never be the same.
I go off to school in Flagg and major in climbing.
Steve and I climb together off and on over the next six years.
A few climbing trips here, a few there, a lot time on a rope together in Tucson and Flagstaff.
Now, it's spring, early '80s and I'm back living in Tucson for a 4 year stint so my wife can get slammed by Med Skool.
It's bloody hot in this town and the crack climbing is marginal but s'OK.
Tucson has great climbing, great friends and a tight knit group of climbers.
One warm spring day Steve suggests that we go up and try to free the Wasp. A long standing aid problem in Sabino Canyon.
(or was it the Evil Eye, they're next door to each other...)
We talk John Steiger into joining us and an out of town climber (whose name I can't remember) tags along.
Hey ho, hey ho, it's up the trail we go...
The climb is back up in Sabino at the end of the trail, and then hump up the hill.
Sabino rock is some weird stuff. They say (or at least used to) that it's a peraluminous granite.
The Oracle Granite formation to be precise with intrustions and contact layers of the Wilderness Granite.
It's been described as rock bands that alternate from fairly good to incredibly bad.
It's a beautiful, dark, swirled rock with stripes and bands floating across it and pieces of Mica lenses here and there.
An hour of humping and we're perched up on a ledge overlooking Sabino.
We're some what lacking in motivation, this thing is steep, has discontinuous cracks and flakes and well, just looks Evil.
JS says he willing to give it a go so up he goes and down he comes about 70 feet later.
He's a bit spooked by the rock and the climbing.
It's crispy flakes interspersed with hollow sounding cracks, and the subsequent gear that goes with such.
John says it looks like it might go another 15 ft or so but then looks pretty blank to the belay.
Now this is pretty early spring, we're not in the best of climbing shape, certainly our lead heads are not super tuned.
But I offer to give it a look. Pay my dues so to speak.
Up I go, another 10 or so feet, damn, this is steep up here, this rock is marginal, the pro has run out and I think it needs a bolt.
JS agrees, Steve calls BS. Zip, down I come. I offer to belay and bzzt, up Steve goes.
JS starts to trundle (that's another story... someone's wedding party almost became a funeral procession) and
Steve places a couple of manky pieces and says it looks like he could make the belay but he'll have to run it out about 20 ft
and the pro here is not the best. JS and I just look at each other and start yelling at Steve to drill the damn bolt.
He hyms, he haws, he does a few moves out, a few moves back.
Says he thinks it will go without the bolt. We keep yelling, drill it.
Neither of us on the ground liked the pro or the rock. It was just nasty.
Finally, Steve surrenders to the insistent belayers and pounds in a nice 3/8"er.
A few shakes of the arms and the feet and he heads off towards the belay at the bottom of a big corner with water streaks (a clue.)
He makes the belay area and is saying something about how he could have done that without the bolt
(anyone remember those days, bolting was only done out of absolute necessity.)
He reaches out and clips the first hanger, an old black Leeper.
Grabs the runner and swings out onto the anchor in order to reach the other bolt.
"Ping......"
I look up and see the soles of a pair of 5.11 Fires rocketing toward me.
I lock the belay, get yanked into the air and totally freak out.
It feels like the belay is failing. I bear down with both hands.
I'll stop this fall by shear strength. (A portend for Steiger's winger off the North Face of the Grand years later.)
Damn, I was a dumb ass. It was just slack in the system getting taken up and when you clamp down on the
lead end, you can get a pretty nice rope burn !
Steve continues to fall for what seams like forever until the rope starts to stretch
and Steve damn near hits touches down on the belay ledge.
Fortunately, the climb starts out left of the ledge so when the dust settles, Steve is hanging 20 feet up with
a sling in one hand and half a Leeper hang attached to the other end.
JS is running around the ledge sqwuaking like a chicken headed for the pot.
I'm looking at a white streak across my hand with some raw meat showing and
the visiting climber is sitting there in stunned silence.
Steve says, "humph" and starts yarding up the rope back to the new bolt where
he has to repeat the moves again and gingerly clip into the other old manky belay bolt while staring at
the top half of the original Leeper sitting there still attached to an old button head.
Swinging onto the other bolt was a testy moment, let me tell you.
A couple of new bolts later (drilled out away from the water streaks as much as possible) and Steve
cleans the pitch on his way down. We pack up and head out of Dodge.
Sometime later, a couple of visiting climbers (Webster and Becker ?)
go up to free the upper pitches and while setting up the belay, they turn over this rock and find
"Black Death" scratched on the underside. Steve's gallow humor strikes again.
They get the hebie jebies and high tail it off to find another climb.
Moral of the story:
Listen to your friends when they suggest you really should drill that bolt.
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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Feb 19, 2009 - 09:04pm PT
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It certainly altered my decision making afterwards! A bolt can be a many splendored thing if you are going for fifty feet!
I don't even recall going back up to finish the lead.
The recipients of the Black Death calling card were from Colorado somewhere but not Lil'Eddy or The Hobbit.
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drljefe
climber
Old Pueblo, AZ
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Feb 19, 2009 - 09:07pm PT
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I went to Mansfield.
Good story. Thanks you two!
Jefe Bret Harte (perhaps you knew my siblings?)
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mooser
Trad climber
seattle
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Feb 19, 2009 - 09:49pm PT
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Hey Steve and pk, I was a debater in high school, too...same years--in San Diego (Poway High School). Went to state finals in SF, and got food poisoning. Puke my guts out for two days straight. Also started climbing in high school ('75).
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Rick A
climber
Boulder, Colorado
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Feb 19, 2009 - 10:19pm PT
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Steve,
I’ll add my thanks for your major contribution to the ST community and especially your inspired thread-hosting. Hope to see you at the next ST get -together.
Love those vintage Arizona tales, too!
Rick
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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Feb 21, 2009 - 01:03pm PT
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Here is a glimpse into what goes on up there. From Alpinist 25.
The TP went up in 84 not 85.
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BluntMan
Gym climber
Wild Omar, CA
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Feb 21, 2009 - 01:23pm PT
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As a frequent lurker and occasional poster, I genuinely enjoy the historical element that Steve brings to the forum. I didn't start climbing until I was 46 (1995), so I missed out on the history that was made in the 60's-80's. I remember the television reports of Harding's FA of the Nose when I was 9 but that's about it.
Thanks for all your hard work. You elevate the tone of the forum and make it a better place.
Bob A.
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graham
Social climber
Ventura, California
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Feb 21, 2009 - 01:32pm PT
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Steve, always enjoy what you pull out from the archives.
looking forward to the next installment.
Cheers
mike
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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Feb 21, 2009 - 05:46pm PT
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The hanger that nearly ended it all! I keep it around as a reminder.
The top 1/4" was clean steel at the break.
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east side underground
Trad climber
Hilton crk,ca
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Feb 21, 2009 - 06:09pm PT
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glad you escaped that one murry, sure you have had some more, please do tell. :)
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deuce4
climber
Hobart, Australia
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Feb 21, 2009 - 07:10pm PT
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Could be an interesting case of galvanic corrosion failure
EDIT; yah, clearly a stress fracture most likely caused by impact along the diagonal there, but you infer the top was not as corroded(?). Interesting case, even though the metals of the bolt/hangar are not too dissimilar. Would have to have a close look at the break line to confirm, though.
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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Feb 21, 2009 - 08:26pm PT
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I believe the phrase is hydrogen embrittlement brought about by stress deformation from that last mandatory blow to seat the hanger. Classic stress fracture. Major bummer since there are loads of those non-stainless steel pups still out there.
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jstan
climber
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Feb 21, 2009 - 08:36pm PT
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Nothing is what it seems. Something to keep in mind when you are looking at protection.
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pk_davidson
Trad climber
Albuquerque, NM
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Feb 21, 2009 - 08:52pm PT
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Damn, that is freakin awesome...
I didn't know you'd kept that hangar.
What a POS that is !
Steve, you should turn that into an earring for "special" occasions.
Debating and booting, reminds me of a few stories...
Naw... Let's keep the mystique.
Although the story of Larry's boot and the false Mendel
is almost too good to pass up.
But Steve (or Larry, who is lurking here at times),
you should tell the story of that climb. I don't
remember the details well enough to do it justice.
Damn,I'm LMAO remembering this and I just can't help myself...
Maybe it will goad Steve into telling the story of the actual climb, which is a truly wild story of a couple of guys out on a limb in a big way.
While Steve is a true rock hard man, his stomach has been known to not always be quite in the same ball park.
Lets see, it's fall of 81 or so.
I'm in the best aerobic shape of my life, having just tried to run Hump to Hole with Jim Haisley and Scott Baxter.
That's another story...
Steve and I have also just done a rather long run, Esperero Towers to Sabino a week or so before so he's certainly not couch potatoing it. I have to admit though, Steve did that 30+ mile (?) run without doing any training. Go figure...
A number of us, Steve, Larry Coats, Mark Axen, Tom ? (not really a climber but a very serious hang glider) and myself are on the east side and are going to go up and do the Mendel (or at least attempt, I guess that Elden ice story didn't really do me in.)
Being in fit shape, I just start blasting up the trail as young dodo's are sometimes want to do. Steve of course is not about to allow me to dust his ass in a hike so he follows right behind.
We blast up the trail in good time to a high saddle where we make a camp and await the rest of the crew. That evening a storm starts to blow in and we realize that 5 guys in a 3 man tent is a bit of a stretch. I offer to bivy in the rocks because I have my new -20 down bag. I'm glad I did. I can't recall if Axen also bivied outside or if it was 4 in a 3 man tent. Regardless, it was a tight squeeze.
Sometime late that night, the altitude and the blast up wakes up Steve who finds himself in a rather nauseous state.
I mean, this is a hurling moment and it's gonna happen now!
Steve tries to make the tent door without flattening his tent mates. He somehow makes it to the door with all beets intact.
He starts fumbling with the tent door trying to find the damn zipper all while fighting the urgent need to retch.
He finally finds the zipper, or so he thinks, and starts tugging on it with the frenzy of the mad booter and it's just not moving. Things are getting really serious about now, I mean things are about to happen so Steve starts feeling around and his hand grabs a boot sitting by the door.
Yeah, you know what's coming. Steve manages to direct the projection into the boot while his tent mates slumber away. After the deed is done, Steve passes back out, zipper still intact.
Now the problem is, this is no ordinary boot.
No, this is one of the those brand spanking new Koflach plastic jobbers that Larry has just bought and has been most proud to show them off to the rest of us dirt bags who are stomping around in leathers. Of course, he'd pulled the liners while bedding down so there was a wonderful shell just waiting for Steve's moment of angst.
In the morning, Larry was up before Steve and after putting his feet into his liners, he finds that the one foot slides into the shell just a bit too easily.
To Larry's credit, his Humingbird stayed in his pack and after some un-pleasantries with a snow wash, he and Steve go on the next day to partner up and do a rather amazing climb.
I'm sorry Steve (naw, I'm probably not, I'm laughing too hard.)
But now, you have to redeem yourself with the rest of the story!
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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Feb 22, 2009 - 12:36pm PT
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That may take a little while as that epic was, epic!
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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Feb 28, 2009 - 08:26pm PT
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A few more shots from The Turning Point FA.
Out in the smoothness on pitch three. Blinnyphoto.
John Steiger luxuriating on Desert Rat Ledge. Other desert rats had been here first! Some post of late...>>>>---------------------->
Days end. Blinnyphoto.
I will re-scan these larger soon.
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pk_davidson
Trad climber
Albuquerque, NM
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Badda Happy 51 Bday Bump:
I've been running through my demented brain cells trying to find the perfect story to catalog Steve's climbing mastery. But there are so many of them. Seems like almost anytime Steve and I tied into a rope, something special happened.
Maybe that alone is adequate tribute but there were so many great first ascents...
BITD in AZ, if you scored an ascent of many of Steve's routes, you were a made man. I'd bet that still holds true for some climbs: As The Wind Cries, Lucky Goes to the Creamery, Bridge of Khazadum, Baradur, Coherent Excitation and the list goes on...
(not to mention The Stone walls...)
I know here in the Sandias, The Grand Apagio has never seen a second although 2 or 3 sport routes have sprouted up beside, on and over it. The locals didn't really know any better as we had never documented the route very well.
But still, it is interesting that 25 ft of 11+ run out face climbing was later turned into an area of top sport climbs.
These kinds of climbs weren't so much about nailing numbers as they were about nailing the zone. About tuning into the rock, adapting your moves to the moment.
Steve is a master at standing around on the lead and getting in really tricky gear. Mastering pro is (was ?, still is ?) an Arizona tradition. Baxter was teaching us nut throws long ago, bolts were rarely even a consideration, much less an option.
Steve came from this tradition and broke the mold with his tricky opposition nests placed off a desperate sloper.
A lot of the mystique and fear that grew up around Steve's climbs was often because others either didn't see the gear or didn't have the same ability to hang out there long enough to work out a complex system of pro.
Steiger wrote about Kahazadum:
"To make things a bit more reasonable, figure a way to positively attach runners to lipless chickenheads." What he neglected to say was, then run it out 15 feet across steep, crispy critter 5.11 face climbing, stand around on micro edges, try to work out some oppo placements up and under a roof and then turn the roof while looking back at that runner held in place by a nut jammed against the sling.
But what really sets Steve apart is that he is an artiste on the rock. Steve doesn't really climb, he dances across the stone. When you watch him flow up a face climb, you immediately understand that here is a guy who is just in tune with the rock. He's in his zone and the viewer is being treated to wonderful performance art.
I cannot count the number of times I was sandbagged following some 5.11 climb thinking it was going to be a bit of 5.8 Steve just makes it look easy.
Happy 51 Steve!
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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Thanks for the heap of praise, Pablo!
Looking back at all the adventures what strikes me now is how few times we got shut down or failed on any of these projects. Lots to choose from and "plenty of meat to throw at the cracks" as Baxter used to say!
Few people know that I used to haul an enormous rack up practically every route unless you could see the entire thing from the ground.
To my amazement, you usually did your best to carry and place the pile and I have to take clear responsibility for enabling your protection habit early on! LOL
No takers for The Mudshark Arpeggio (a lovely little arpeggio) among the young guns?!? Tsk, tsk, they have redlines on their funmeters, don't they?
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BBA
climber
OF
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May 13, 2012 - 12:38am PT
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Time for a bump to show appreciation for Steve's continued posting of really cool history threads. Shiprock was great.
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