Trip Report: "Sheer Lunacy" Rings in the New Year

Discussion Topic

Return to Forum List

This thread has been locked

Messages 1 - 4 of total 4 in this topic

Shameless McSqueezy

climber

The Land of Lizards

Topic Author's Original Post - Jan 22, 2006 - 06:22pm PT

My name is Shameless McSqueezy and I am, well, shameless. You see, even after reading about McNamara and McNeely and their record-breaking fast & light ascents in Zion this winter, I decided to push ahead with the heavy & slow approach to a winter ascent of Zion’s “Sheer Lunacy”. Also, I’d managed to line up a ringer for a partner, one who could haul my slow-ass up the route if necessary and, to be frank, even if it wasn’t necessary. Think of this trip report as describing an “anti-Mac” type of ascent. Alternatively, think of me, Shameless McSqueezy, as the “black sheep” of the family, an unholy embarrassment never to be discussed at gatherings of my McBrothers.

This was to be my first wall in almost thirty years: I had thought that an ascent of Half Dome in the late seventies was to be my first and last wall, what with the hauling of the pigs and the trying to sleep on a rocky ledge and the no coffee in the morning. Nope, my career would be restricted to fun-in-the-sun day climbing. Then in fall 2004 I got talked into attempting a “fix-and-fire” ascent of Prodigal Sun on Angel’s Landing. To my surprise the aid climbing was fun. To my greater surprise I met other climbers who, fresh off two or three days on a wall, seemed to be fresh as daisies. I began to re-think the whole wall thing, “Hmmm, perhaps this can be done with minimal discomfort.”

Slowly the big wall stuff began to appear at the house. The pig. The ledge. The wallhauler. The Dr. Piton diatribes about Big Wall Theorists and Big Wall Gumbies. My wife, not a climber but rather indulgent of me, especially liked the pig: “What’s this plastic pack? Is this part of your old-man aid-climber recapture-your-youth thing?”

May 2005
Mr. Chris and I first attempted “Sheer Lunacy” last May when the Virgin River was running at about a billion cfs. We did the long walk around The Organ and fixed the first pitch, returning the next day to bivy at the top of pitch 4 and fix pitch 5. The photo below shows me, Shameless, shuttling the freight across a portion of the 125 foot left-ward traverse that is pitch 4.

Shuttling the Pigs on Pitch 4

After a warm evening spent eating and talking on a wonderfully flat ledge, we retreated to the portaledge for a great night’s sleep. “Yep,” I thought, “This wall stuff has definitely gotten more comfortable in the past 25 years.” Unfortunately, high winds moved in that night, constantly showering us with a gentle mist of fine sand. By morning the temperature had dropped significantly, the dark clouds were flying by, and we decided to bail. As it turns out, it rained everywhere in the entire state of Utah EXCEPT Zion.

December 30, 2005
Our winter strategy was to go heavy and slow. Remember, it’s the anti-Mac attack. In addition to hand-warmers, zero-degree sleeping bags and an expedition fly for the ledge, we also had a stove, canned soup, oatmeal, grits, tea, coffee, hot chocolate, wine and vodka, not to mention cheese, salami, chocolate, nuts, raisins, energy bars and jolly ranchers. We were not going light, but we damn sure weren’t gonna go cold or hungry, either. We had barely crossed the freezing river and dried our numbed feet when Mr. Chris made the first sign of commitment: his Tevas were thrown back across the river.

Commitment!

It was actually almost warm as we began climbing in the sun at 9:30 a.m., wearing only two or three layers. Despite his reasonable request to switch things up from the previous attempt, I shamelessly insisted that Mr. Chris climb the same two crappy pitches he did last time, while I got the reasonably good second pitch and the easy pig-wrestle of the pitch four Tyrolean. Mr. Chris fixed the “Primo Crack” of pitch five quickly and we were sipping wine by four p.m.

December 31, 2005
After a comfortable night in the ledge, we awoke to darkly cloudy skies and much cooler temperatures. Sh#t, Same situation as last May. This time around, though, we were not gonna get screwed by good weather so up we went into the bad, each of us now wearing a combination of four or five layers, a hat and gloves, depending on whether one was climbing or belaying. It snowed a bit as I slowwwwwly crawled my way up pitch 6. Mr. Chris came up and, after a quick conference, we decided to follow pitch 7 up (photo below) and then across its 40 foot traverse to the left, a decision that made the option of retreat considerably more complicated.

Into the Bad on Pitch 7

It drizzled during my lead on pitch 8, after which Mr. Chris led pitch 9 in a steady rain. The top of pitch 9, Toquerville Tower, was our goal for the day and we raced to set up the portaledge, tossing all of the essential stuff inside just as the rain stopped. It was going to be dark soon, so Mr. Chris suggested that we cook while we had the chance. After a delicious meal of hot stew, cheese, salami, wine and vodka-spiked hot chocolate, Mr. Chris opined that the weather looked as though it were clearing. Examine the photo below. Does it look as if it’s clearing? No, despite the smile, I didn’t think so either. Then, why the smile? Because here we see a shameless man who knows that, come morning, he’s gonna ask Mr. Chris to lead the two remaining pitches.

Why the smile, Shameless?

The weather moved in forcefully at about 6:30 on New Year’s Eve. Gusty winds and steady rain lasted for several hours, culminating in a spectacular thunder and lightening show shortly before midnight. After both of us were startled awake by a huge clap of thunder, Mr. Chris said, “Well, I guess we wanted an adventure.” The next day we found out that the weather had been crazy all day, that winds of 89 mph had been recorded in St. George, and that the storm had been a lead story on the state-wide evening newscasts. We also learned that our wives had each watched the news and had called one another to commiserate. Fortunately, we were dry and warm, we were only two pitches from the top, and we had more than enough food, water, and alcohol to spend an extra day on the wall if necessary.

January 1, 2006
About eight in the morning Mr. Chris unzipped the fly and said, “You are not gonna believe this. Happy New Year, Shameless, it’s a blue sky.” The mild tension that neither of us had acknowledged was immediately broken. After much laughter, another hot breakfast, and a leisurely packing of the pigs while waiting for the sun to reach us, Mr. Chris led the final two pitches, topping out at about 1 p.m.

Mr. Chris on Pitch 10

Thus, the New Year has seen my transformation from the loftiest of the Big Wall Theorists to the lowliest of the Big Wall Gumbies. What’s that you say? I’m still a BWT because Mr. Chris led all the hard pitches and I'd weaseled my way out of leading on the last day? That doesn’t bother me. After all, my name is Shameless.

Postscript: “Thank you” to off-duty seasonal ranger Becky from Virgin, UT, who gave us a ride back to the car…where we discovered that Mr. Chris’ Tevas had been washed away by the rising river.