The Many Journeys Of Edvictorious

On Wednesday were still rockin’ the land of trad.  Next up we hit Frogland, located on Whiskey Peak in Black Velvet Canyon.  This took us outside the BLM managed land via a crummy dirt road which I later, with much profanity, dubbed Charles and yelled at (we got back late).  We got a bit of a late start on this one, unintentionally, being forced to wait for a photo shoot before we could park as well as taking a wrong turn to the route.  By the time we reached the base of Frogland all our morning sun had disappeared (and this is like… 9am?), leaving us in the shade and me once again cursing Mother Nature (I really, really, really hate the cold).

The first pitch of was ice cold and I quickly began to fear the rest of the ady on this frigid rock.  The start was a bit tricky and the rock was pretty smooth.  Fortunately a bolt awaited me not too far up with a few others along the way.  I felt I ran this pitch out a bit at times, thinking I would have liked a few tri-cams.  The ledge on the first pitch was excellent and I quickly began the second.  The large crack and layback moves made this an enjoyable climb.  After clearing the crack to a slight ledge I scouted for the alleged anchors only to find two bolts sans hangers.  Bugger.  I took a chance that I had enough rope to make it to a small tree above a slightly less friendly ledge some distance ahead.  One less-than-ideal anchor setup later (there were half a dozen slings on this “tree”), I belay K2 up and begin the remainder of pitch 3.  Not much to say here.  A slight roof to pull on the start gives way to a slab face with more features than you know what to do with.  A nice easy jaunt to the next anchor station.

Pitch four is where things get interesting.  There some short climbing up a right facing corner/ramp, you reach an arete and a roof, offering you several variations to choose from varying in difficulty from 5.8 to 5.10.  I’m still not certain which way I took, but after clipping a fixed cam which gave me mental peace of mind (as well as a hell lot of rope drag), I climbed up out of view and just got plain lost.  I had to make a ballsy, ballsy move up a blank slab to a much coveted bolt.  The rope drag was so bad I pulled several arm-lengths of rope before making the delicate moves, only to realize my next anchor was 10 feet below the bolt!  Argh!  Some delicate down climbing later I built my anchor and brought K2 up.  At this point I was a bit frazzled.

Fortunately, while pitch five was a bit awkward at times, it was much less exposed and a much more in my comfort zone.  Climbing past the gap below a huge chockstone was very cool.  I opted to climb past the suggested anchor station over a slight roof that was better protected from the wind (and allowed some climbers below to climb up).  I still don’t know how K2 squeezed through the chockstone gap with that pack on.

Pitch six was cake and quickly led me to the top.  From here K2 and I scrambled down as quick as we could, eventually getting caught in the dark avoiding cacti but eventually making it back to the car.  “Home” at last!

We decided to climb some more trad the day after Birdland, but wanted something more relaxed and less committing.  We ended up returning to the same area, Brass Wall, but sticking to mostly single pitch climbs.  It was nice to sleep in a bit and get a later start and the sun exposure ensured a warm day.  K2 expressed some interest in mock leading so we scouted for some easy stuff and after a few false starts on some 5.5′s that just did not protect well, we hit Heavy Spider Karma, a 5.6 route that travels up a well defined crack with plenty of features.  We took our time on this one, running up it several times.

We had come to Brass Wall eyeing one route in particular – Varnishing Point; a highly rated two-pitch 5.8+.  There was already a group on it when we wrapped up from Heavy Spider Karma so we ended up hitting Topless Twins instead.  This was by far my favorite route at Red Rocks and my first 5.9 on trad.  It’s a beautiful route, following twin cracks (one slightly better defined than the other) with a pretty significant patch of that black slick rock we encountered the day before.  This route route had it all – sustained climbing, some decent-but-not-great rest stances, excellent protection options (passive!), rock face variations (those cracks got pretty thin at spots) and moves that took me out of my comfort zone but not too far.  This climb freaked me out and I loved it.  I sewed it up (every piece is mental, right?) and nabbed the onsight.  Excellent route.

After this we hit Varnishing Point, which had to be the most disappointing route of the trip.  I don’t get why this one is so great.  The first pitch is 5.4 and just feels awkward with less than fabulous protection (I know it’s a 5.4, but still).  The second pitch, the 5.8, was more of the same, but worse.  There were significant areas of hollow and/or fragile rock and a couple spots that required you to move into an awkward position in relation to your last piece (I did not like how I would have fallen).  I do not recommend this one.

That pretty much wrapped up our Tuesday.  We capped the night off with marshmallows by the campfire which was… interesting.  It was a bit cold and the strong winds not only accented this but could make the fire blow in unpredictable ways.  Oh well, my sleeping bag was warm!

Wow, been a while, huh?  Guess I should have posted this up sooner.  Oh well, back on with our regularly scheduled program!

After a blast the prior at Black Corridor, we decided to try experience some of the great multi-pitch trad we’d heard about.  A friend had highly recommended Birdland, a five pitch 5.7.  A bit concerned about the popularity of the route and traffic, we planned it for a Monday and got up super early to play it safe.  It was. so cold.  Gah.  We psyched ourselves up a bit in the warm car and then headed off.

The approach to Brass Wall was easy and well established, with only a slight uphill hike near the end.  Soon enough we stared at the base of Birdland.  The first pitch was about 100 feet of smooth sailing.  Plenty of features of all types as well as a prominent crack system.  This topped out to a nice ledge.  Pitch two took you around an arete and a very large chimney.  Very cool.

Pitch three was stellar.  Climbing up a right facing corner took you to some tricky traversing to a very necessary protection bolt to pull past a slight ledge.  Pitch one and two didn’t overly excite me, this pitch brought me back to the here and now.  Whew!  Pitch four consisted of a lot of features and some traversing, a short intermission to the awesomeness that is the fifth pitch.

The fifth pitch starts straight forward enough, with holds getting thinner and farther apart to make it feel like you’re working for something.  Then you pull this slight bulge to come a slab of black rock with a crack running up it.  The black affords no friction and as you climb up this crack it becomes thinner and the features around it become more spartan.  I loved this pitch.  Gorgeous!

After a bit of traffic on the way down and one snagged rope incident, we departed and went out for Mexican!  Birdland is a great moderate route that protects well (mostly) and has some great views.  Highly recommended!

We arrived in Nevada Saturday morning (hooray time change), itching to get our hands on the rocks.  Alas, logistics took a bit longer than we would have liked and had to settle for some hiking (and a little bit of free-soloing).  The BLM enforces a 5pm “curfew” in the area.  If your car is found in any of the parking lots after this time then you have a $200 ticket to look forward to.  I’ll keep my opinion on this to myself.

The area did not fail to impress during our hike however.  Beautiful rock, gorgeous views, cool temperatures.  We came across a group of climbers climbing a small area called Hamlet; somewhat new (not in our a guidebook) and popular for its moderate climbs.  I gotta say, this is one hell of a local crag to have in your backyard.

Sunday we got an early morning start and hit Panty Wall to warm up and acquaint ourselves with the rock.  I was super excited and practically dragged K2 out of the tent (it didn’t hurt that we were on a through hour time difference).  Panty Wall had a nice short approach and some pretty easy routes, making it a great introduction to the area.  After climbing a few 7′s and 8′s we hiked to Black Corridor, probably the most popular sport area in Red Rocks.  Why so popular?  It’s chock-full of great climbs ranging from 5.9 to 5.11c.  We spent the rest of the day on the upper ledge with K2 working some 9′s while I worked a handful of 10′s.  Live Fast, Die Young (5.10d) kept me busy for a while, working out its crux move right above the first bolt; an awkward high step with a transition from a crimper pull to a crimper mantle.  Whew!  Black Gold (5.10b) just freaked the hell out of me with an awkward first clip.

We met and hung out with some cool climber from all over.  There seemed to be a lot of people from Canada, as well as a few other east coasters (New Hampshire).  Always good to meet other climbers from all over.  Abby and her friend worked Rebel Without a Pause (5.11b), which looked like one huge bouldering problem.

Next up – Birdland!

I was told by a friend a few weeks ago that I seem to be taking a lot of vacation time lately. I suppose she may be right. I tend to sit on most of my vacation days and use them together for something big, like last year’s Southwest Roadtrip or my 2008 trip to Germany. Not necessarily all my days at once, but a good amount. I’m more of an all-or-nothing kind of guy, and I like going big. I had originally hoped to return to Europe this year, going further east to see Croatia and surrounding countries. Croatia’s a place that I’ve wanted to visit for years, ever since I came across this beautiful picture at Plitvicka Jezera National Park. I fell in love. More recent discoveries of amazing climbing just further inflamed my desire.

Croatia was not in the cards this year, sadly, but a few kickin’ domestic destinations have ensured excellent use of my days off. Yosemite was a blast and next week I burn the rest of vacation in Red Rocks, Nevada! K2 and I leave Saturday morning and by almost storybook-like coincidence several other Sportrock’ers will be in the area at the same time as well as Sarah, who I met while in Yosemite. Red Rocks is an amazing place for climbing, with tons of both sport and trad climbing to keep us busy. We’ve got a bunch of climbs on our to-do list, including a few epic candidates (Unimpeachable Groping, Frogland), but one must always be willing to go with the flow. Pictures may be limited, as I am still waiting on my point-and-shoot to be replaced, but I’ll see what I can do.

This past weekend was the Seneca Chili Cook off.  Not a particularly great weekend climb at Seneca, what with the droves of people that come down to attend.  But even I have to admit that not everything is about climbing and that participating with the festivities and hanging out with all your friends, some you may have not seen in quite some time, has its merits.  Good times were had.

Of course, that’s not to say you can’t get some good climbing in if you plan it right.    K2 and I started our Saturday before first light in the bitter, bitter cold.  It took us a few minutes to rally and leave the warmth of the car (first in the lot!), but the hike to the base, helped warm us as rays from the morning sun began to shower over the horizon.  It was a day of classics, starting the day off with Skyline Traverse.  Being my first time leading at Seneca, this was an eye opening introduction to Seneca Sandbagging.  A beautiful route nonetheless.

After reaching Broadway Ledge and taking a short break we hit A Christian Delight… sort of.  I quickly came to the conclusion that I started this route a bit too far right when I was swimming in lichen.  The second pitch was excellent, however, though a bit unnerving.  There was a good amount of hollow rock in areas where I wanted to place pro and was forced to accept at least one cam would not catch me, but merely slow me down (just don’t fall?).

From here we waited briefly for our turn on the Old Ladies traverse so we could get on Windy Corner, by far the most challenging climb of the day.  The bulk of this route is comprised by a large crack and a good collection of stacked rocks.  I had difficulty placing good gear on this route with many features being flared or simply too large.  Awkward stemming and a bit of an overhang make this a hell of a 5.4.  Great climb.

We arrived to the festivities a bit late, with most of the food already being gone.  We were not alone in this, however, as most of the people from our “group” being in the same boat.  Fortunately, I had brought a batch of vegetarian chili I had hoped to enter in the competition.  While not an official contender, it was well met with our starving climbers (thanks to Owen for letting us use his room to nuke it).

Sunday’s wake up was a little more welcome, as the temperatures had climbed to non-shivering levels.  We hiked the East Face trail to Broadway Ledge and climbed Conn’s East.  This had special significance for me, as it was the first route I ever climbed at Seneca way back when (following, of course).  While my climbing wasn’t as stellar as I would have liked (room for improvement), it felt good leading it; like things coming to a full circle.

After that, we called it a day, opting to get back a little earlier in preparation for the real world.  I know I’ll be back to Seneca some time soon and Conn’s East some time down the road.

And now I’m back in the real world. Jobs. Bills. Beds. Laundry. We had a good time and everyone came back unscathed. Can’t ask for more than that. It’s funny how well you can get to know someone when you practically stuck with them on the rocks. There were some highs and lows, but I have no regrets. I’m looking forward to climbing with everyone in the future.

And now, highlights!

Snake Dike is an ordeal.  Not simply because of the eight pitches of climbing, but because of the work involved getting there and leaving when done.  Six miles of strenuous hiking to the base for a total of 2500 feet of elevation gain; eight pitches of poorly protected, exposed climbing including a thousand feet of unprotected and unforgiving third class slab (you fall, you die); nine miles back.  Why the hell would you want to climb such a thing?  Because it’s Half Dome.  Because it’s there.

The Approach

Sarah, Colleen and I got an alpine start Saturday morning, leaving Curry Village a bit before 5am.  We knew what we were in for and carried only what was essential: food (bars, nuts, dried fruit), water (three liters each), two 70m ropes (a second in case we needed to bail.  Snake Dike is not bail-friendly), minimalist rack, guidebook printouts, headlamp, first aid kit, light soft shell jacket.  I had been getting by on sneakers and Five Fingers since losing my Keens at the New River Rendezvous back in April, so I bit the bullet and bought a pair of hiking boots at the local shop.  Probably not the best idea, breaking in a brand new pair of shoes on such an intense hiking adventure, but what can you do?

We were quiet as we started our journey to Happy Isles, which would be the true start to our hike.  I think we all knew what was in store for us (or thought we did) and the combination of daunt and determination steeled us on in silence.  From Happy Isles we would take a combination of the Mist and John Muir trails, which intersected and separated all along the way to the Nevada Falls.  Slowly our path became more steep, more rocky, more demanding.  Colleen charged ahead while Sarah and I did our best to keep up.  I pride myself on being on being in pretty good shape, but this trek took its toll on me.  There is something indescribably frustrating about switchbacks when you want a hike to be over.  Back and forth and back and forth and oh, wait, go back left again even if you were just there only 10 feet down.  Christ…

After many steps and much internal swearing on my part, we arrived atop the Nevada Falls where we broke for breakfast and a short rest.  There’s no denying the beautiful views along the way and the sight from the top of the falls was an excellent culmination of our journey so far.  Every perspective is a little bit unique in its own way.  Another thing that never fails to strike me is how….. impermanent the perceived temperatures are here.  The sun is king here; usually being the only difference between shivering in the cold and sweating your butt off.  Our stop atop the falls quickly shifted me to the shivering state, creating a lovely dissonance between more sore feet and chilly torso.

Soon we were back on the trail, whose rocks soon gave way to sand, and began searching for the cairns marking the climber’s trail.  This was my favorite part of the approach; walking amongst the foliage, over small streams and fallen trees.  There’s something beautiful about walking by a dead tree only to look closer and see new life sprouting from its leafless branches.  Anyone remember the movie Fern Gully?  It’s kind of like that.  Plant life slowly gave way to rocks and sand once again (as well as a few too many piles of bear poop for comfort), along with much more difficult and dangerous “paths” to the base of Snake Dike.  Five and a half hours later, we had arrived.

Snake Dike was already being climbed by two other parties who were having some….. difficulty to say the the least.  Fearing more time necessary on hanging belays, we took a short nap before beginning the climb.

The Climb

The first two pitches of Snake Dike are 5.7, followed by a mix of much easier climbs ranging from 5.2 to 5.6.  With several optional belays on the first half the route, we wanted to link up as much climbing as we could to cut time.  I lead pitch one, starting up a flake on a slab hardly worth mentioning.  Slowly that flake gives way to nothing but pure friction climbing until you reach a bulge too blank to simply pull.  Oh no.  Instead you must traverse left, trusting your feet on what appears to be nothing and getting what little hold you can from a thin seam where bulge and slab meet.  A pinkie here, a fingertip there, moving slowly I try not to imagine the pendulum swing I’d be in store for should I fall (if you can’t get a fingertip in the seam, you sure as hell can’t get a cam in).  After slowly creeping over to a more feature friendly area, I pop in a cam and make it to a slight ledge; the first anchor station.  The rope drag was just to heinous to make it to optional belay #1.  Only later were we informed that one is supposed to climb to the bulge, plug in a cam, down climb a bit, and then traverse left.  Doh.

Colleen took lead to the first optional belay that I was unable to make it to.  From there she scouted around around towards the next part of the route, looking for good protection options and a fabled bolt, only to find neither.  We’d quickly find this to be a reoccurring theme on Snake Dike.  Feeling ballsy (or just plain stupid) from the last pitch, I volunteered to climb to the next optional belay climbing through the first bolt, second anchor station and second bolt (which I nearly missed as it sat right in front of me).  Only one placement the entire time.  Frig.

From here things got a little lighter for us with a couple 5.4 and 5.3 pitches with a short 5.6 and 5.5 crux section.  The remainder of the climb served as a frustrating but educational instruction on rope management (ie: having to stop mid climb with no pro or bolt between me and anchors because the rope was tangled) as well as an insight into the mentality of the Yosemite climbers (did someone say 70 feet of runout?).  I also received a painful reminder on the discomfort of hanging belays on your waist, legs and feet.  This was my longest climb, by far, and it’s a lesson I won’t be forgetting any time soon.

The Return

We reached the “top” (it kinda just blends into that third class slab I mentioned) of the eighth pitch just as the sun set below the surrounding mountains.  From here we rushed (or tried to) up the thousand feet of slab to the top of Half Dome just as we were bathed in darkness.  Headlamps activate!  I’d love to say this was the end of our epic adventure, but sadly it was not.  Tired, sore, we then proceeded to search for the railings that would lead us down the dome.  Through no small miracle Sarah stumbled across them (after almost stumbling down one of the cliffs), claiming she saw a light in the its general direction.  We were amazed at how steep and slippery the way down was, all of us opting to clip into the rails Via Ferrata style.  Everyday people do this?

After a bit of stumbling (I precursor to the remainder of the night) we made our way down to the top of Sub Dome.  More stumbling and searching ensued as we searched for the alleged granite steps that were the next leg of our journey.  Once found, we walked to the base and took a short break for food and water.  From there it was rather nondescript for quite some time.  Just a lot of walking mixed in with quite a bit of stumbling and falling along the way (me especially.  I lost count on how many times I rolled my ankles and ate dirt).  Fatigue was setting in.  At the top Nevada Falls we decided to take the Mist Trail all the way back rather than in and out with the John Muir.  The hike was shorter but much, much steeper.  Those steps destroyed me.

After losing our way when the Mist Trail magically become the Vernal Falls Trail and being saved by a group of midnight hikers, we hiked many more steps back to Happy Isles and then eventually back to our cabin around 2am where Lou greeted us with a well received large pizza.  A 22 hour day.

Thoughts

That’s pretty much it in a nutshell.  I’ve asked myself whether I would have done it knowing what I know now and I’m not sure.  There were too many “eff this” thoughts along the way to count along with a few impulses to just “bivy” it for the night.  But each day the weight of it all fades from memory a bit more, my feet hurt a bit less and it doesn’t seem quite so bad.  There was a lot of positive aspects to the day: my longest climb, rope management, just knowing that I was able to do all that; to persevere.  You also get to know your companions pretty well on such a long journey.  And just being able to say “I climbed Half Dome” is pretty cool.

One thing’s for sure.  I’ll never climb it again.

I got a slow start to the morning following our near epic adventure on Holdless Horror (sleeping bag, sooooooo warm). Jason and I decided to hit Northwest Books, a two-pitch 5.6 with a very short approach. It’s located on Lembert Dome, which you can practically hit with a rock from the campground. I was a fan.

The climb itself was pretty straight forward. Jason led pitch one past a single bolt to and undercling traverse that slowly transitions to more and more of a side pull until you’re climbing up the crack. The somewhat polished nature had me thinking good ol’ Carderock. I led pitch two with not much to say. Plenty of features, plenty of quality rest positions. A bit of rope drag and before I know it bam, I’m at the top.  A quick snap of the PMC flag and we’re on our way down.

The rock here is so different from what we have back home.  On the east coast, it’s usually a gorge of some sort;  Find a whole, get down, climb get back up, done.  Not here.  Here, you hike to the base of some rock climb it, quick high five, then “how the hell do we get back down?”.  It’s just more involved; takes more time.  You also get the feeling you’re walking on the moon.  That being said, getting down from Lembert was pretty straight forward, though I was deeply regretting using my Vibram Five Fingers as approach shoes.  Limpy!

The next day Colleen and I decided to head back to Dozier Dome to swap leads on Bull Dozier – a two-pitch 5.7.  Shorter but higher quality than Holdless Horror, if you ask me.  Colleen rocked the first pitch and I scurried up most of #2 before running out of gear (reoccurring theme much?).  After a short mini pitch, we reached the top and made it down much easier in the light.  Good times.

be·night·ed – adj – overtaken by darkness (source: Merriam-Webster)

After a few days of playing it safe, getting to know the rock and such, we were all getting a bit antsy to do what we really came here to do – climb multi-pitch trad. Colleen and I decided to check out an area called Dozier Dome to climb a route called Holdless Horror, with Luciano following as a third. Prior to that day we’d been spending quite a bit of time just trying to find the damn routes, but today fate (or just luck) guided us quite quickly and painlessly to the base of the dome. Little did we know this would be the last bit of good fortune we’d be receiving for the day.

The hike through the woods to the rock was beautiful. The huge, beautiful trees were what struck me the most and I made a mental note to visit Sequoia National Park in the future. Holdless Horror is a four-pitch climb that is anything but hold-less or a horror; just a nice smooth route up a well defined crack. I started it up the fourth-class unprotected slab to some short protect-able climbing to the first anchors. From here Colleen took over with some nice leading on pitch two and most of pitch three before being forced to stop due to a lack of gear. Funny, she had been considering linking the two pitches earlier. We had obviously underestimated the length of a Tuolumne pitch.

Maybe it was because this was our first major climb together and we took things slower.  Maybe it was because we had a third, or maybe we just got late start.  Maybe shit just happens.  Regardless, by the time Colleen belayed me up to our third anchor station we were in twilight.  Getting stuck in the dark was not something any of us wanted so I hurriedly racked up the gear and attempted to finish the last of pitch three as well as pitch four so we could get the hell out of there.  At some point the last of the light was gone and I was climbing with nothing but my headlamp for light.  Funny how that slows you down.

As I’m hurrying as safely as I can up the rock, I continue to run into these “just kidding” moments where I thought I was at the summit of Dozier Dome only to find more rock over the next ridge.  Before I know it I’m in the same situation Colleen was in earlier – little gear and no end in sight.  Frustrated, I resigned myself to building an anchor with #4 and #5 cams (which I thought was pretty cool) along with a slung rock.  After belaying the others up, Colleen proceeds to finish the last of pitch four, which slowly tapers to walkable slab.

Getting down was an ordeal.  Safe sections of slab continued to give way to much less steeper variations or just simply cliffed out.  Without the light to give us a broad overview of the area ahead of us, we we were forced to deal with issues as they came and make the best we could of short recon.  While the path we took as long and arduous, we all made it down safely.  After a short break at the base of the dome, we hiked back to find our van windshield covered in frost (did I mention how friggin’ cold it was?).  Arriving back at camp a little after 2am, we called it a day.