Trip report: Blind Date -- the FFA of Planaria

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Brutus of Wyde

climber
Old Climbers' Home, Oakland CA
Topic Author's Original Post - Apr 16, 2006 - 04:32pm PT
"Planarians avoid strong light, hiding by day under objects in the water. After dark they come out to feed on live or dead animals. Often they can be attracted by placing small pieces of meat on the bottom."
(Sierra Nevada Natural History, An Illustrated Handbook) (1)

Temple Crag, a 12,999 foot peak located in the Palisade region of the California High Sierra, is a complex mountain whose aretes and buttresses provide enormous potential for high quality backcountry climbing. Two routes, highlighted in the guidebook "100 Classic Climbs in the High Sierra," (2) have seen skyrocketing popularity in the past decade. These routes, Sun Ribbon Arete and Dark Star, are regularly the scene of unplanned bivouacs by parties seduced by the challenge of the immense vertical landscape presented by this peak.

Em Holland and I climbed Sun Ribbon Arete in July of 1998. On the approach, we chanced to meet Bob Harrington, whom we had previously known only only through e-mail correspondence and by his reputation for cutting-edge first ascents in the Sierra backcountry. As our trip progressed, and as we added our own unplanned bivouac to the list of epics seen on the Sun Ribbon, I dismissed the meeting with Harrington from my mind. Little did I know, as Em and I were shivering on the summit ridge waiting for the first rays of sunlight, that I would return to Temple Crag later that summer with Bob to try something far different in magnitude and difficulty...

Lurking in the shadows to the right of Dark Star is the route Planaria, which follows an enormous, shallow dihedral. The first attempt on it was made by the talented climber Chris Fredricks, who lost interest when he was unable to free the entry to the corner, encountering a huge, rightward traversing roof (3). Planaria was eventually climbed in 1977 by Jay Jensen and Gordon Wiltsie, who used aid on the initial pitches (4).

High in the cold shade of the dihedral, the pair encountered a towering, detached flake bearing a striking resemblance to the flatworm after which the route was named. Bordering the pitch-long flake were two cracks: One an offwidth in the main corner, and the other a zig-zag wide slot through several roofs out on the wall to the right. Jay took a long fall out of the offwidth in the corner, and the pair switched to the crack on the right side of the flake to complete the first ascent, descending an easy couloir from the top of the lower buttress.

The route, and the dihedral, became "shrouded in an aura of mystery and respect" (5) when information from the first ascent leaked out. Tales of pitch-long sustained offwidth cracks, horrendous falls, and difficult roofs provided some fireside entertainment, but little inspiration for another attempt.

Twenty-one years passed before two climbers with the requisite lack of common sense teamed up to attempt a second ascent: In August, 1998, Bob Harrington and I (during our first climbing trip together) settled into a Spartan bivouac below the route, and proceeded to terrify ourselves by guessing at the difficulty of the climbing on our respective leads.

Our ambitious plan was to establish, via thin crack and face climbing, a free variation which ignored the first two pitches of aid; to ascend the yet-unclimbed left side of the flatworm; then to continue along the serrated upper ridge to the summit of the crag, completing the second ascent, the first free ascent, and the first entire ascent of the route to the summit register.

The following morning, Bob and I jostled for position and Bob, being younger than I, ended up on the sharp end of the rope for the first lead. Unfortunately, this turned out to be a pleasant and entertaining 5.9 crack, which Bob completed in short order. Smirking, he passed the sharp end of the rope to me. Soon I wandered about the loose, lichened face in confusion and fear, desperately seeking a pathway through crux difficulties which would not include a visit to the coroner, stopping every hour or so to place a two-finger piton (the number required for removal) or to drill a bolt. Nearly half the day was gone when Bob finally joined me at the belay, the new, free variation to the climb below our feet.

Next came a touch of adventure. At one point, Bob popped off the rock, to be stopped just above an ankle-breaker ledge. Having zippered all but one of his pieces of protection, (a shallow stopper in a flared slot) he looked up at the load limiter dangling from the marginal piece, all but a few of its stitches blown.

"I think I'm starting to like these Yates screamer things."

The next few pitches were uneventful save for my anxiety gradually increasing to the level of outright panic as, looking upward, I contemplated yet another crux: The Flatworm.

The Offwidth looms above. I am already retching in fear as I follow Harrington's pitch up to the stance at the base of the flake. As I reach the belay, I briefly consider trying to wrest the stance from Harrington, and send him up the lead, but it is obvious that he is prepared for this maneuver, having established himself in a tactically superior position in the dihedral like a crab in a shell, so, in between horrendous coughing fits (to gain sympathy) I resort to what I know will be ineffective whining, begging, and desperate groveling.
"Quit slobbering. There's a ledge halfway up that crack that even a sniveler like YOU could bivy on."

"Yeah. Riiiiight."

"ohhh! what a clever comeback THAT was!"

40 feet of straightforward arm-bars and heel-toes leaves my last protection far below. Soon I arrive at the afore-mentioned "ledge" to find a useless shelf sloping downward at an angle of 60 degrees. Alternately gasping like a beached beluga or trying to cough up a lung, I swing a limp, wasted arm around, the limb flopping in a feeble, uncoordinated attempt to transfer a #4.5 camalot from rack to crack.

Below, Bob lounges on the belay ledge, casually inspecting his fingernails. "WATCH ME?" I beg.

"No problem, I gotcha." He glances briefly in my direction out of courtesy, then resumes his inspection.

Time to move. Wrestling, struggling... Some offwidths succumb only to power, finesse, elegance, and gymnastics including inversion and Leavittation. Such climbs are beautiful, resembling sport climbing like the Indianapolis 500 resembles drag racing. Others, like Planaria, are nothing but a desperate, terrifyingly brutish struggle for survival, the demolition derby of climbing. Bob's reasons for his choice of partner become clear.

Snapshot images burn into my neurons: A jumbled, tilted talus slope, nestled in the morning shadows at the base of this huge wall, so far below that its huge boulders are grains of sand sweeping beach-like up to the rocky promontory of North Palisade; Third Lake a sunlit emerald; Azure roof of the heavens; puffs of cloud drifting above a vast and distant horizon; Sweat and tears blurring my vision as blood leaks from my raw meat arms into the gullet of the silver-grey granite in this cold, shadowed corner.

Somewhere, thirty feet above my last piece, my neuromuscular system slowly morphing from meltdown to vapor-lock, finding a small hold on the overhanging left wall, stemming beyond the limits of my screaming hamstrings, I eek out a half-rest for my spent, burning muscles before the layback exit into the squeeze chimney. The first, gilled creature to crawl out of the Paleozoic sea and gaze upon the land, I at last ooze on my belly up to the belay ledge, confused by this new turn of events, uncertain of the evolutionary course from here into the future, feeling like the victim of a high-speed collision. "Your lead."

    Later that day --

The cruxes are far below us now. We are simulclimbing the sawtooth spine of the mountain, marveling at its exposed crystalline bones. Out of water, we stop briefly to scoop snow from a bank for Gatorade snowcones, to munch a bit of food. Then onward, racing congealing clouds.

Fat drops of rain splatter into the snowfield around me, as I dodge a projectile kicked off Moon Goddess Arete by a retreating party of five. Bob, demonstrating his skiing prowess, is far below, almost at camp, the parallel tracks from his standing boot glissade mocking me, as I execute an inelegant butt-slide from suncup to suncup down this last stretch of the descent, using a #5 Camalot as a self arrest tool. There comes a sound of distant thunder.

I pause on the last bit of scree into camp, where the ground tilts upwards and dives under a liquor-store-snowbank, to dig out our last two cans of ice cold Heineken. Below, on the flat sand, awaits a sumptuous celebration feast: the menu includes fresh veggies, brownies, and Zinfandel.

Above, the evening sky swirls in a mosaic of grey, blue, white, and gold Volkswagen- and crableg- clouds. The storm is breaking up, the darker shadow of rain slashing through the high mountain air having moved east, over Big Pine. We may not get drenched tonight after all.

1. Sorer, Tracy, and Usinger, R.. Sierra Nevada Natural History, An Illustrated Handbook. Univ. of Calif. Press, 1989.

2. Moynier, John and Fiddler, C.. 100 Classic Climbs in the High Sierra. Chockstone Press, 1993.

3. Personal communication between John Fisher and Bob Harrington, June 1998

4. Secor, R.J.. The High Sierra: Peaks, Passes and Trails. The Mountaineers, Seattle, WA 1992.

5. Climbing Magazine, August 1, 1998. p65
yo

climber
I'm so over it
Apr 16, 2006 - 06:17pm PT
Works cited? WHOA!

Very cool.
Zander

Trad climber
Berkeley
Apr 16, 2006 - 06:21pm PT
Again, the Master shows us how to write a trip report.
Thanks, Brutus
Zander
dirtineye

Trad climber
the south
Apr 16, 2006 - 07:45pm PT
That was fun!
poop*ghost

Trad climber
Denver, CO
Apr 17, 2006 - 12:36pm PT
Now that's a great way to start my week!!

thanks brutus -

Jason Liebgott
caughtinside

Social climber
Davis, CA
Apr 17, 2006 - 01:01pm PT
Thanks, I really enjoyed reading that.

You got more action on that blind date than I ever have!
Les

Trad climber
Brooklyn
Apr 17, 2006 - 01:40pm PT
kick-ass TR, brutus! FYI, your Sun Ribbon Arete route topo came in very handy this past summer! And I indeed took comfort in the knowledge that many before me had been benighted high up on the mountain! (we bivied at the top of the 3rd class gully, one 4th class scramble from the top!)
scuffy b

climber
4 to 8
Mar 27, 2009 - 06:33pm PT
Hey Brutus, which side of the Planaria flake did you climb?

Bob?
klk

Trad climber
cali
Mar 27, 2009 - 06:42pm PT
very nice.

the footnotes are an especially nice detail.

i think your epigram is missing a word or phrase, however.
MH2

climber
Mar 27, 2009 - 07:22pm PT
Third Lake a sunlit emerald


The spiritual nexus?!!



Extraordinary writing. Makes me glad I have left a lot of sunny moderate climbs yet to do.
Doug Robinson

Trad climber
Santa Cruz
Mar 28, 2009 - 12:41am PT
Wow, thanks!

Shrouded in a bit less mystery now. But fully as much respect. Gordon and Jay were pretty wide-eyed, descending from the FA.

Any chance you could draw a line on a photo for us? There's a broad lot of wall to wonder about below that haughty flatworm.

Here's the wall, in afternoon sunshine. You can see the Planaria himself, set off by an hourglass of wide cracks, just into the shadow at the bottom of the dihedral. Dark Star is just to the left following roughly the sun/shadow line on the main buttress. The Venusian Blind Arete forms most of the left skyline (not including the shaded overhang, which is behind it). In front of it near the top of the photo and standing out in sunshine is the prominent tower on the Moon Goddess; the route traverses this face near its top. Closer and lower down, sun is just catching the tyrolean tower on the Sun Ribbon (about the level of the top of the flatworm).
Brutus of Wyde

climber
Old Climbers' Home, Oakland CA
Topic Author's Reply - Mar 28, 2009 - 03:31pm PT
We climbed the left side of the flatworm.


To start the climb, we headed up further to the right than the original aid line. Didn't want to have anything to do with those roofs, low-down.

Doug Robinson

Trad climber
Santa Cruz
Mar 28, 2009 - 05:30pm PT
Wow again! Topo and all. Not to mention a very appropriate disclaimer.

Man, it always feels daunting to go up on that wall. Route finding can be indistinct even from a few feet away. Feels so much like Middle Cathedral Rock to me: the wandering, the uncertainty, the sporadic pro.

You never know about the ceilings either. Kroger and I freed one 2-3 feet deep on Barefoot Bynum at only .10b, but we felt lucky as if we'd gotten away with something.
ontheedgeandscaredtodeath

Trad climber
San Francisco, Ca
Mar 28, 2009 - 10:35pm PT
Awesome TR, thanks!
Brutus of Wyde

climber
Old Climbers' Home, Oakland CA
Topic Author's Reply - Mar 29, 2009 - 03:23pm PT
Glad y'all enjoyed it.

Hope to keep doing stuff in the Sierra for a long time to come.

Brutus
Jello

Social climber
No Ut
Mar 29, 2009 - 03:35pm PT
Great writing about what sounds like a great climb, Brutus. Many thanks!

-Jello
Mungeclimber

Trad climber
sorry, just posting out loud.
Mar 17, 2010 - 03:41pm PT
was looking for a wall thread with pics, and came across this gem of real climbing content.

rest easy bro, we got the next lead covered. :)

L

climber
Yeah it's a furball...I TOLD you I was a cat!
Mar 17, 2010 - 03:44pm PT
Dang that man could post a good TR!


Thanks for the bump.
le_bruce

climber
Oakland: what's not to love?
Mar 17, 2010 - 04:22pm PT
Thanks for the bump, Munge, great stuff.
kunlun_shan

Mountain climber
SF, CA
Apr 8, 2018 - 12:08pm PT
Another Brutus bump!

This should be added to nah000's SUPERTOPO CLIMBING GOLD series. Great writing.
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