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k-man
Gym climber
SCruz
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Topic Author's Original Post - Nov 17, 2006 - 11:49am PT
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I love guidebooks. And if you've ever spent time trying to draw up route descriptions to even a small crag, you'll have an idea of how much work goes into making something as fat as a Yosemite or Josh guide. Because of this, errors are somewhat expected. Sometimes they lead to funny results, other times they lead to "experiences."
We being our story with a description that reads "Approach from above via rappels or by downclimbing the adjacent gully. This is followed by more downclimbing and further rappelling. Alternately, an approach from below can be made that concludes by taversing out on a skinny tree limb to gain the crack."
Being lazy, we decided to rap and downclimb rather than ford the river and slug up the hill and attempt the "skinny tree limb."
Dang, what an adventure; raps down to 3rd Class dirt above a huge drop, then over to what looked to be the top of the climb. My buddy went first, rapping off and then over the gently overhanging wall. A few minutes later I heard huffs and grunts, shortly followed by an "Off Rappell!" My signal to begin the descent to the base of the climb. I follow, rapping down to and then over the overhanging wall. Near the end of the rope I find myself hanging in space, somewhat near a very skinny tree limb.
Somehow my buddy managed to get swinging enough so that he could lunge at some tat that was hanging off an old pin at the bottom of the crack. This alone gave him the ability to pull himself into the climb. For me, I tried to push off the tree, but the limb resembed a stick more than it did any limb. Eventually, my buddy was able to grab my harness and pull me in. How he made it to the crack is still a mystery to me.
The climb was awsome, overhanging .10c hands to a crazy .11b crack of impossibilites.
But here's the point of the story...We laughed hard when we reviewed the tree limb that we would have been climbing out had we approached from the bottom. Whoa! that thing would barely hold the weight of a squirrel, let alone a naked sport climber. Had we come from below, we'd a been sore losers, there was no way a person could climb up that tree to gain the crack.
So while we didn't get hosed this time, I'm wondering. Who's had a bad experience due to crummy guidebook beta? I know I've got a story or two...
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Hangerlessbolt
Trad climber
Portland, OR
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Nov 17, 2006 - 12:00pm PT
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Too many to list
Randy Vogel's "Book of Lies"
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G_Gnome
Boulder climber
Sick Midget Land
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Nov 17, 2006 - 12:01pm PT
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I once did a Todd Swain route at Josh that was rated with a star. I should have known it was a mistake. Another time I did a Todd Gordon route in Indian Cove that had a star. That was another mistake. I just didn't expect to be able to pull the bolt out of the rock with my fingers though.
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Mungeclimber
Trad climber
one pass away from the big ditch
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Nov 17, 2006 - 12:16pm PT
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K-man will know about this...
The description goes something like this...
'This climb belongs in the 'known what you're getting into category'
hilarious to read, scary sh#t to lead.
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travelin_light
Trad climber
california
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Nov 17, 2006 - 12:25pm PT
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i always like the term "awkward" climbing
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Phil_B
Social climber
Hercules, CA
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Nov 17, 2006 - 12:50pm PT
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or "turn left at the big rock"
Hello!! They're all big rocks. Often, I find that I can find it if I know where I'm going.
But that may be why I'm such a lousy routefinder. . .
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Greg Barnes
climber
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Nov 17, 2006 - 12:53pm PT
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OUt of an old Roper or Joanne Urioste route description, went something like this:
"The next pitch looks easy, but is not."
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caughtinside
Social climber
Davis, CA
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Nov 17, 2006 - 12:54pm PT
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in my experience, "follow the climbers trail" can mean anything to a well blazed fire road to the most heinous manzanita whack of your life.
Oh, and the Sumner Tahoe guide says this about High Tour (high traverse of east wall): a fall from anywhere on this route will leave a bright red smile on the rock.
yikes!
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mooser
Trad climber
seattle
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Nov 17, 2006 - 01:26pm PT
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An online guide to the Lower San Ysidro Canyon near Santa Barbara (http://www.tradgirl.com/areas/ca/lsy.shtml); describes a route my brother, John Patterson, put up, called: "Amish in Space." The route is 10.a R, and is described as "a real trouser-filling lead." John, who died this time last year from complications following a lung transplant, was proud of his lead having evoked such a good line.
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Jello
Social climber
No Ut
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Nov 17, 2006 - 01:35pm PT
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K-man, guidebooks can be funny. The old Ortenburger guide to the Tetons was responsible for several inadvertent new routes. Trying to make the features of a cliff meet the verbal descriptions was often an exercise in optimism: "This must be the obvious corner, and that must be the prominent bulge...don't you think?"
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Melissa
Gym climber
berkeley, ca
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Nov 17, 2006 - 01:53pm PT
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I always like it when an unusual adjective is inserted into one of the generally beta-light Reid topos. ("5.9 ow thrust" comes to mind) and you spend half of your mental energy on the climb wondering what the hell that's going to mean.
Approaches advertising some "easy 5th" are usually pretty heinous.
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Jaybro
Social climber
The West
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Nov 17, 2006 - 01:59pm PT
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Twice edited out of my peakbagging book (but I always write it back into people's books)
concerning White mtn;
"As the sign the sign says "experiments in progress do not disturb"" the part they insisted on cutting is-"though it is hard to ignore the faint tapping sounds, and feeble cries for help emenating from within."
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steelmnkey
climber
Vision man...ya gotta have vision...
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Nov 17, 2006 - 02:00pm PT
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Jello wrote:
Trying to make the features of a cliff meet the verbal
descriptions was often an exercise in optimism: "This
must be the obvious corner, and that must be the
prominent bulge...don't you think?"
Man, you got that one right. When my first partner and I started going out to semi-obscure crags with the guide held aloft in front of us, we used to rationalize the craziest stuff into whatever the words in the guide said... never got us in serious trouble, but we had some adventures because of it.
Melissa: shouldn't that be "thrutch" ?
That's a word you sure don't want to see associated with a route you're about to climb...OW not a big deal, but "thrutch"...run away!!!
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jean
Trad climber
Cardiff-by-the-Sea
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Nov 17, 2006 - 02:04pm PT
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From my Vedauwoo guidebook:
"Mantle Route 9+: This is a good toprope problem but leaves something to be desired as a lead, since the first effective protetection comes 40 feet off the deck and after the crux. It serves as an example of how not to bolt a route..."
I was climbing a lot at the time and led it anyway.
:)
-j
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Melissa
Gym climber
berkeley, ca
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Nov 17, 2006 - 02:08pm PT
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I don't think I've ever seen "thrutch" on a topo. I often see it on approach/descent descriptions. (As in "...thrutch through the manzanita until you wish you were dead.")
Something else that I think is funny in the guidebook...Well, maybe it's only funny when you're reading the thing for the thousandth time b/c it's getting dark at 5:00 again....is when they screw up the bold text in the back of the book to alter the name of the route or the name of the FAist. Of hand, I'm thinking of the route "Stumpted" by Ray Olsen which has been mis-bolded to dub the route "Stumped Ray" as was Jardine's tradition.
Another thing that I find humourous is on the back of the new Supertopo Big Wall guide. There's a statement in big bold red print on the COVER saying that the guidebook is the most accurate ever. Then, in the bullet points just below there is a big editing error stating that XX topos are to be found w/ in the highly accurate pages. Again...it's the sort of thing that's only funny when the days are short and time is long.
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k-man
Gym climber
SCruz
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Topic Author's Reply - Nov 17, 2006 - 02:34pm PT
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In which California guidebook will you find the following topo notation:
"Eat rat poison here."
Of course the note is highlighted by a nice skull and crossbones illustration.
Know your stuff? What's the climb?
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Standing Strong
Mountain climber
crashing into emeralds @ 11*11
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Nov 17, 2006 - 02:42pm PT
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"when the days are short
and time is long..."
that sounds like the beginning of a good haiku
more please!
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Jaybro
Social climber
The West
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Nov 17, 2006 - 02:50pm PT
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"thrutch upward" is writen on a topo somewhere, I think maybe in the original green top spiral Meyers..
The problem with that description of the Mantle route is that it indicates the author did not ever lead the climb. There is pro wsy before forty (~20'?) and well before the crux. Guide dude is counting bolts.
Ps if you ever heard Layne's story of that first bolt you would never count on it anyway.
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Clint Cummins
Trad climber
SF Bay area, CA
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Nov 17, 2006 - 03:09pm PT
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"Eat rat poison here."
That was a cool guide. I also liked how in some of the descriptions the recommended gear included a bolt kit.
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RRK
Trad climber
Talladega, Al
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Nov 17, 2006 - 03:56pm PT
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Here is a story which I have just compiled from emails that I sent around after a Redrocks trip a few years ago. At the time I was attempting to extort pictures from the rest of the group since I had not taken a single one. I hope you can appreciate the effort that I have gone to to dig this back up and put it together for your amusement. It's somewhat lengthy but broken into sections. Enjoy.
RRK
_
To those accustomed to dirt-bag climbing, Roundup #4 was a luxury cruise. Home base was a motel just a few miles from the main entrance to Red Rocks with hot showers, flush toilets and breakfast served on plates at tables.
1. Most of the gang arrived during the week following April 26. Thomas and Lee did a wall in Zion early in the week, which produced the famous quote: "ME?? I thought YOU wanted to do this wall!!! " (Thomas' experience trapped for a night on the portaledge with Lee Carter will be the subject of a story if Thomas will spill the beans) Tommy showed up after Lee and Thomas got down. Bobby Rotert played hookey from a seminar in Vegas to climb for a few days. Eric came down from Boulder and Tom McMillian and his wife made their first Roundup. (Tom, was that your picture in Climbing this past month. Looks like you're blowing out birthday candles.) Burton, Nick and I straggled in on May 3 (some of us actually work for a living).
The next day Lee, Nick and I teamed up on an outing which will forever be known as the "Frogland Fiasco". Details of that trip will be furnished as soon as my therapist is able to get me past something he calls Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Burton went with the rest of the crew on an outing he would only describe as "punishing".
Late in the evening of the day after the "Frogland Fiasco", Burton showed up in the room with Lee, Nick and I holding a Red Rocks guide book. He was very interested in doing something less life-threatening than following Bobby Rotert around, and had selected a route from the book which included a picture. He was showing the picture around the room like it was one of his children, and was eyeing each of us in turn for some indication that we might be a prospective partner. He went on and on with his presentation like a carnival barker until finally I rolled over and said "okay, I'll go with you". Burt's eyes lit up. "Great!" he said. "We're going to have a blast. Besides, we've got this guide book with a picture in it. What could happen??" Little did I realize that those words had set the cosmic wheels in motion for an epic of Shackletonian dimensions........
CHAPTER 2:
1. The Davis Expedition Wanders in the Wilderness:
For those of you who have just joined us, the first chapter of this epic tale began when Burton Davis discovered a map once used by Moses to lead the Israelites to the Promised Land (remember it took 40 years). Believing it would also lead him to the Promised Climb, he set about finding a mental-defective to serve as belay slave. Unfortunately I was the first person Burton encountered with the right qualifications for climbing partner (slow-witted rope-holder). He waved the guide-book picture in front of my face a couple of times till my eyes glazed over (a form of climber-hypnosis), then set about racking gear.
Once Burt and I officially teamed up for his quest, Lee and Nick decided to climb a route which the guide book showed as being across the canyon from Burt's intended route. Lee had climbed in this area before. According to the guide book, Burton's route included an "easy walk-off" from the top. Since there would be no rappells involved, we decided to lighten our load by carrying only one rope. If this tale ever becomes a made-for-TV drama, ominous music will begin playing at this point.
Mindful of the problems associated with starting up an 8 or 9 pitch route at sunset (a la "The Frogland Fiasco") we resolved to break protocol with the "Crack-of-Noon Climbing Club" and begin our approach early in the day. Thus dawn found us struggling under our loads in the Nevada desert, with Lee Carter and Nick Brash following behind. Only a mile or so into the trek, we passed an intersecting trail. Lee said "this is the trail to our side of the canyon". With that, he and Nick peeled off. The fact that the person who had been to the canyon before was no longer following us was of no apparent significance at this point. In retrospect, this trail intersection was as close to "on route" as we were ever going to be. With guide book in hand, Burton raced ahead up the trail like a child at Christmas hurrying to the tree. The ominous music of the soundtrack should now be at crescendo........
Chapter 3: How can we be lost if we don't know where we're going??
For those of us just tuning in, our story began when Burt found a Red Rocks guide book and decided to play a climber's variation on that childhood game, pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey. In Burt's version of the game, the climber selects a route at random from the guide book, then blunders through the desert to the first available piece of vertical stone and climbs it according to the directions in the book. But I am ahead of myself now.
When we last saw the ill-fated Davis expedition, Burton was prancing through the desert, guide-book in hand, while his dim-witted rope slave (me) plodded behind. Burt would alternately look in the book, then point gleefully to a far-away formation as though it were some religious artifact which would soon begin emitting light. As we approached the formation, Burt informed me that we were to look for a "ramp with two large pine-trees". At the time he told me this, I could see five miles in every direction. I also know exactly what pine trees look like. I conveyed to him my belief that there were no pine trees within 25 square miles of the place we were standing. He was unperturbed. "This is an old book", he said. "The trees must have died". Egad! He had hit on the only possible explaination for the fact that those pine-trees had vanished. The ramp must have died as well, because it too was absent. We hiked in and out of the canyon trying to make the picture in Burt's guide book match the rock we were facing. I kept telling him, "Burt, this doesn't look anything like the picture in the book." He said "this picture was just taken from a different perspective" (yeah, five miles away in another canyon) "See", he said, pointing to the picture in the book then sweeping his hand across the horizon, "this is the sky". He was right. The picture of the sky in the guide book looked oddly similar to the sky in canyon we were standing in, but that was the only similarity.
On the odd chance that we were holding the world's worst guide book, I followed Burt up and down the canyon all morning until our planned alpine start melted into mid-day. Finally Burt appeared exasperated. He threw the guide-book down and said "F@@k it, lets climb something" "Finally", I thought to myself, "we are free from the tyranny of that damn guide-book" But it was not to be. Burton could not come to grips with the magnitude of our mistake, and insisted that we climb according to the directions of his intended route. The guide-book said to start in a chimney so we found a nice-looking chimney, roped up and off we went. Before starting up, we put excess gear in our packs and threw them over the side. I rejoiced when I saw the guide-book go in the pack. As I watched the packs sail out of sight I suddenly remembered that my wedding ring was clipped to a biner in the head of my pack. At that moment a picture flashed through my mind of me arriving home from Las Vegas without my wedding ring. The image sent a cold chill down my back. I realized then that we were on a life-or-death mission. The cosmic demons must have been howling with laughter at the mischief which they had just worked....
(oops - forgot this chapter)
Chapter 4: Are we there yet??
In our last episode, our intreped adventurers had finally given up hope of finding their chosen destination, and had decided to simply rope up and begin climbing at the first spot where they could no longer walk forward. Unfortunately for me, that spot was the beginning of a mile-high chimney crack. One of the fundamental laws of nature (right up there with the law of gravity) is that fat-boys and chimneys don't mix. The technique which I most often employ in such situations is characterized by a type of full-body convulsion, and is usually described as "wallowing up the crack". Burton climbed and I wallowed in the chimney for what seemed like days. I was on the point when we finally broke out onto the face and arrived at one of the most attractive belay ledges I have ever had the pleasure of plopping on.
As I was setting the belay, the radio squawked and I head Burton's voice: ".. look for a left-facing dihedral.." What? I knew that I had seen the cursed book go over the side. Where was this beta coming from? I looked around for a minute, then radioed back, "yeah, I see one across the canyon, why?" It was then that I discovered that Burton had meticulously transcribed the directions to his route onto a piece of notebook paper the previous evening. Thus the book was gone, yet the curse of the book remained. We were climbing with a "cheat sheet".
As I reeled Burton in, I looked down the wall and could see a climber barely within 'hollerin' distance. I yelled a couple of times and he looked around until he finally saw me. "What route are you on", I asked. "This is Cat-In-The-Hat" he yelled back. When Burton arrived I passed the information on, but the real significance of the conversation would not be apparent to us until the next day
We climbed and we climbed and we climbed some more. We swung leads and we led in blocks. We climbed on faces and we climbed in cracks. Over hill, over dale, we finally arrived on the top of the formation just as the sun was setting. As I was rolling up the rope, Burton fished out his paper and announced "there is an easy walk-off just over here". I grabbed the rack and peeked over the side where he was indicating. It appeared to me that the grade of the walk-off was a bit stiff. Southern boys would probably call that descent line a "fall-off". I expressed my belief that if we walked off at that point we wouldn't have to take very many steps. Burton began to pace around and around the summit, looking for something that resembled a way down. Re-tracing our route as an escape was impractical due to several long traverses and full run-out pitches. Thus as darkness fell we found ourselves over a thousand feet off the deck with only one rope and no apparent way down. Thank God that Lee and Tommy weren't there, we could have been in serious trouble.
Chapter 5 - It's a long long way to a burger and a beer
In our last episode our adventurers had summited their route only to discover that there was no helicopter there to wisk them away to civilization. As the light began to fade, Burt decided that our walk-off must be up higher. From where we sat, another band of rock extended up a few hundred feet. I was beginning to get hungry, and hadn't had a beer in over 12 hours. I conveyed to Burt my belief that there was no taco stand on top of this rock, and that even if we had left beer in the van, our partners would not bring us one - they would simply wait for us by the van until the beer ran out. There would be no rescue - if we wanted food and drink we would have to get it ourselves. Remembering a similar incident with Andy Hayes from last year, I suggested that we down climb a bit and see if the escape route would reveal itself to us. The prospect of food and beer had Burton ready to try anything so we launched over the side and began a ropeless descent. We dropped a few hundred feet in this fashion before finally running out of both daylight and real-estate. It was just at that moment that Burton stumbled over a set of rap chains. Hurrah, we're saved? Not exactly. The rap station was set up for double 60m ropes and we only had one. My solution was simple. Rig the chains with one rope and I would rap to the end. If I didn't like what I saw I would just close my eyes. If I couldn't get any gear in at the end of the drop I would jug the line and we would try something else.
The rope missed the next ledge by a good 60 feet. I swung in the breeze for awhile and finally got some gear in the wall. As Burt came down to join me he rapped past a perfectly good bolt hanger. Coincidentally it was 60 feet or so from the rap chains. He pulled the rope through the hanger and suddenly we had plenty of rope. Unfortunately we could not find the remaining rap stations in the darkness. However we did find some very nice trees and bushes to rig from ( some of them were still alive). We began loosing altitude in 100 foot blocks, and I was having visions of getting home in time for supper.
At some point during this process I discovered that I had thrown a small headlamp into my hydration pouch. I don't usually carry my big headlamp around because it is so heavy. I saw a tiny one at Wal Mart before I left for Vegas, and bought it on a whim. It had a krypton bulb plus 2 LEDs and is manufactured by that great mountaineering company Ray-O-Vac. It turned out to be just the thing for getting two little knuckleheads off the mountain. After a couple of hours of thrashing around, we discovered that there was nothing left to climb down from. We had made it to the bottom. Burt took the headlamp to go for the packs, and I groped around trying to get the gear together and the rope rolled up. As best we could tell, the packs were on a ledge about 200 feet up. I could see the light moving back and forth across the ledge as Burton searched. The radio squawked. "I don't see them, we'll have to come back tomorrow." "Please look one more time" I said, remembering my wedding ring in the head of my pack. I saw the light turn toward the ledge again then heard Burt say "Bingo" . I felt like a man who had just had his death sentence commuted. Then suddenly the light went out. I heard Burton scream "DAMMITTTT ...... HOW DO YOU GET THE LEDs TO COME ON???" Apparently the batteries had expired just as Burt was making a dicey move high over the deck. He fumbled with the switch for a second, then the LEDs switched on dimly. As I watched from below, the light got brighter and brighter. Burt began to move again, and he was soon back down on firm flat ground.
It was now close to 10:00, and we were in the middle of the desert with one pitiful little headlamp between us. My suggestion was to just follow the drainage back to civilization. I felt like the stream from this canyon would probably empty out into one of those large lakes on the Vegas strip (possibly the one with the pirate ship in it). If we could just make it to the lake we would be saved by large-breasted women carrying trays of drinks. Burt looked at me the way a man looks at a woman when he realizes that she has his credit card. "I know exactly where the van is" he said.
That's all for now. Tune in next week for the concluding episode of "Red Necks at Red Rocks"
Chapter 6 : We Lived Again
Hi guys:
I just got an email from Steve that reminded me to finish this story. (pardon the typing, I'm a bit buzzed and my fingers are not cooperating) When we last saw our intrepid adventurers, Burton was trapped deep in the Nevada desert with his carnivourous climbing partner several hours past dinner time. Having survived a day of high-altitude hijinks followed by a harrowing descent, Burton was not about to participate in a remake of "The Donner Party". Thinking quickly, he grabbed his pack and offered to lead the way back to the van. As it turns out, he knew exactly where it was (he must have pissed on one of the tires before we left). At one point he said "I think we need to cross the river now". We did, and wound up picking up the trail at the only place where the trail back to the van crossed the stream (damn, is this the same guy I've been climbing with all day?). We stumbled and bumbled throught the desert with Burt in the lead and me behind him with the light for what seemed like hours. Finally we were in the parking area. But where were our climbing partners?
When we were at the top of the route earlier in the day I had managed to raise Lee and Nick on the radio for the first time. They had just finished their route and were desperate for a cold beer. Due to poor planning the beer had been left behind at the motel. In their last transmission they indicated that they were going to try to hitch a ride back to the motel - so much for a rescue by the AA (Alcoholics Anonymous) Rescue Squad. (They wound up catching a ride in with a guy named George, who was a former part-owner of Rock & Ice) When we arrived at the van there was something stuck to the windshield. Was it a note from our climbing partners? No - it was a note from Red Rocks Rangers, telling us to please pay a $50 stupid tax for being late in the park. (We briefly discussed the fact that Tommy had rented the van and that if we didn't pay he would be the one in Federal Prison for a parking ticket) Anyway the story's over. We lived - whoopee. For two excursions in a row I didn't make it home till past midnight. At least this time I wasn't exhausted, dehydrated, puking and skewered by cactus. When viewed from that perspective things were certainly looking up.
What lessons did I learn from this adventure? Getting lost is half the fun of climbing. Don't leave the ground without a headlamp. There's no such thing as an easy walkoff. Radios beat the "hollering system" 99 percent of the time. If you're gonna get home at midnight there's no point in leaving early. Don't throw things over the side that you really really need. Beer should be a major component of every first-aid kit. Burton is a cool partner and I've got first dibs on him for next year. ( Nick's going to loan us his Senneca guide book - it will fly farther when we throw it. )
Gotta go. Hope to see everyone at the fall roundup.
Kenny
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