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Fingerlocks
Trad climber
where the climbin's good
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Topic Author's Original Post - Jul 3, 2005 - 07:08pm PT
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Somebody was asking for trip reports to break up the tedium of all the political threads. We climbed the North Buttress on July first, and here is all the detail (that's a hint for those who don't want beta).
We figured that the North Buttress should be a good shady climb to do now that the weather is hotting up and could be done without gallons of water. And since it is on the west side of the buttress, we figured that a good early start was the way to go. Since this was the plan, of course we senselessly puttered about wasting time and didn't start climbing until an hour or so later than we wanted. As the Deet wore off, we finally had an incentive to get moving. Once kicked into gear, we simul-climbed up to the Right Rabbit Ear at a good clip arriving winded and sweating in the warm, still, morning air. There is not much point in going only as far as the Right Rabbit Ear unless you are a particular fan of fighting trees and shrubs, but it does have a little good climbing and isn’t all so loose. You even get some scratchy stuff down your shirt that works it way under your harness later in the day. This isn’t on the classic circuit.
The Ear is a nice big comfy spot, however, you cannot see the next pitch. Reid’s doodle of a topo shows you climbing twin cracks right up off the ledge. No such thing. But there is some kind of corner around out of sight to the right, and yes, when you get close there is a ¼” bolt at an unlikely traverse right off the edge of the rabbit ear and out into space. The route has begun.
The topo made me think that the climb was going to be one of those 5.7/5.8 numbers that you run up with an occasional 5.9 move. This climb is better than that. All the spots marked 5.9 seemed harder and some were steep. Maybe they are 5.9 because they are fairly short. Anyway, they were good cruxes—the kind where you see an old pin and think, man, I’m glad I don’t have to nail those in.
A couple of good pitches led to the tree Ledge where the climb becomes classic Middle Cathedral face climbing—might (or might not) be pro out there, but the rock looks solid. My partner didn’t find much for the pitch 8 belay and brought me up to look. I wandered around until I was dealt a hand that beat his and sent him on his way.
Now we get to the part that it’s worth going up for. Somebody on an earlier thread had warned about not getting suckered into the big blocky corner on the left. I thought they meant higher up, though. Still, Reid shows staying right from the corner on pitch 10. There is a short ramp, but then—nothing to climb. So I head left to the corner and pass a pin. As I go up, I find that there are small spots dug out for cams and even another pin. Ok. So this must be the climb. There is a place that almost looks like it would be a traverse right, and there is some stuff out there that might be climbable if you got there, but the traverse seems to have a gap. And above? It’s not like the face has shown any sign of having pro and I would not want to reverse the traverse. I climb another twenty feet up the corner and come to the end of the excavated cam holes. So it looks like I have to go check out the traverse after all. Unlikely it may be, but it goes even if it is more 5.10 than 5.9. Cool!
Next up is the “10a” pitch that Karl Baba said that he took a thirty foot fall off in the early 80s. Did he say that was a thirty foot upside down fall? I’m thinking that maybe I’m mixing up my stories. So lets just call it a thirty foot upside down blood curdling scream fall. That sounds good. A friend who also climbed it about the same time has distinct memories of this thin pitch and its lack of pro. With that mental preparation, here we go. But with modern gear it protects well. The placements are all small and strenuous to make. Since I didn’t want to get too far above any of them, it seemed a lot harder than 10a. Might have just been my own doing—half as much gear might have saved me a couple of letter grades.
Somebody stole pitch 12 off the topo, so we went right into 13 which is a nice chimney with a stiff exit. As I was getting ready to second this pitch, I noticed that although sweaty, I seemed to be actually soaked. Taking off my pack, I find that the cap of my hydration pack had come loose and Gatorade was dribbling out. Maybe I had a half liter, maybe I had lost a half liter too. All I knew was that we were in the sun now (remember the early start?) and there was no breeze. Where did it go?
I did 14, 15, and half of 16, in one go on a 70m rope since there were poor options for belays. A 60m might barely get you to my belay. The bolts on the pitch 15 slab were, as expected, still the old quarter inchers. The good news is that they were close together. The better news is that I didn’t fall on one. The hanger on the first was a half inch out from the rock, so I slung the wire of a stopper over the hanger and right down onto the shaft. Then I put on a Screamer and looked the other way. It was another good pitch, and I kept going looking for a belay. Finally, half way out the pitch 16 traverse, I got to a couple of trees and had a belay on a nice ledge with biting ants and blazing sun. Isn’t there supposed to be some wind when you get more than a thousand feet up? I was thinking about that, admiring El Cap, and trying to suck another drop out of my bag.
We simul-climb out the rest hoping we can still get down before dark. I stay away from the pitch 16 belay spot in the corner as long as I can because my partner is knocking down rocks. Finally I move over and he lobs one more. It’s huge. I dive for an overhang and See? Hear? Feel? It scream past. Must mean the good climbing is over.
This last bit of the climb is supposed to be 5.6. Maybe Reid got his 9 flipped over. Or it could be I’m hot, tired, and thirsty. It seems to be a long bit of simul-climbing with too much crawling up over stuff. I don’t even look at the gear as I clean it and just focus on climbing well. Finally the pitch is over and I start giving gear back to my partner. I hand him a red Alien which he holds up for me to see. It is not even ours. I bootied some gear and didn’t even notice.
Having had enough of loose rock, we skip the Kat Walk and simul-climb on up a couple hundred feet to where we unrope. Finally, I get to dig out the ½ liter of water stashed in one of my shoes. Should have stashed a ½ liter in the other one too. From here it is about 500 feet of scrambling to the very top of Middle. There are great views up there in the late—very late—afternoon sun. Time to boogie. We can also see and hear Bridalveil Creek. Man I’d like a drink. If it wasn’t for the mosquitoes, we’d head down to the water, light a fire, and spend the night. I even had snacks left that I couldn’t eat since I was so thirsty. But I didn’t have Deet.
From where we unroped, it was a half hour over to the descent off of Higher. If you do this, cut right and down, instead of staying high and left. There are a few low cliff bands to descend, but it is easy to find a 3rd class move off them. We hit the saddle between Higher and Middle perfectly and were soon on a familiar trail. What an easy descent! Still, it got dark on us at the bottom of the boulder field, so we came down through the trees by headlamp. You can hear the river a long way away when you are thirsty.
From Fingerlock’s partner:
I really liked this climb. It is not another East Buttress of Middle, but in the context of an alpine-style/adventure climb, it takes top notch. Yes, you have to fight through a couple of trees and, not having as much traffic, there are some suspect handholds. The ledges are all full of rocks (think alpine), but it is not the choss pile my partner’s description might give (then again, since I lead all the simul-climbing, I was dislodging as opposed to dodging rocks).
Now for the upside: there was a lot of really high quality, varied climbing on this route. The Reid rating is definitely old school. Even the 5.6 pitches got your attention through route finding/ pro finding/and just plain hard moves. For a 5.10- multi-pitch route, I thought the pro was reasonable except for the 5.9 bolted pitch. Given the quality of the bolts, it was runout “old school” 5.9.
Details: re pitch 10 where my partner had had the warning about staying out of the corner: Being on second, I was looking at a huge pendulum if I biffed the traverse my partner did essentially on toprope. Instead, after I cleaned his high piece, I downclimbed and then swung almost back to the belay. About 30 feet right of the corner is a 3” ramp that goes up to a pin with a short cord (you can just make this out from the belay). This is easy runnout (5.5?) and then you get the pin and a red alien before pulling the crux. I think this would be better than starting up the corner like my partner did.
The hard exit at the chimney is reasonably protected with a finger sized (yellow/gray alien) cam—crane your head around to look around the arête that makes up the chimney.
The last bit of simul-climbing was harder than 5.6. However, there were lots of possible lines and I couldn’t tell what did and didn’t connect. If my route finding had been better, it could well have been much easier.
From the point where you can either traverse toward the Kat walk or head up to the top of Middle, it took us a little over two hours to top out and get back to the truck. It involved some hiking, but was straight forward. I was afraid that from the saddle between Middle and Upper, we would then have to climb back up to the top of Upper. This isn’t the case. From the top of Middle it is either downhill or contouring around the side. I would recommend this descent if it is dark (especially for any parties already familiar with the descent off NEB/Braille book). This route also avoids the possibility of knocking rocks on parties in the Central Pillar area.
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Fingerlocks
Trad climber
where the climbin's good
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Topic Author's Reply - Jul 4, 2005 - 11:35am PT
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Perhaps I forgot to mention, it was a great day of climbing.
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Zander
Trad climber
Berkeley
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Thanks for the TR guys. Sounds like fun.
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Roger Breedlove
Trad climber
Cleveland Heights, Ohio
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Hey Fingerlocks and Partner,
Great trip report. Warms the cockles of my heart. NB was my first wall--hey cut me some slack here, it was a long time ago.
Furtive teenagers, worrying our Mothers sick. Home made army duffle bag haul sack, home made bivvy sack, army down mummey bags, and very good quality I-tal-ian lug soled climbing boots.
If you stood perfectly still on a flat ledge they would not skid--honest to God.
I climbed it several times later, first all free, then free and clean. Great apline style route, right in the Valley. Great history too.
Thanks for the report. Best, Roger
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Fingerlocks
Trad climber
where the climbin's good
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Topic Author's Reply - Jul 9, 2005 - 12:11pm PT
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That was just what my partner said--great alpine style route right in the Valley. No approach.
Whenever I get on one of the slabby face pitches of an old climb, I always think about the boots that people used to climb it in. And then I think about their ropes, and about using a swammy. Talk about wanting to not fall...
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Roger Breedlove
Trad climber
Cleveland Heights, Ohio
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Hey F*L,
The boots were not as bad as they would seem to climbers now. We didn't smear--rather, you could not really smear--but we could stand on relatively small edges. I had to re-learn standing with sticky rubber--I still don't have it down.
I switched to perlon ropes. Even before, the ropes were Goldlines, which stretched like crazy, but they were strong and would hold falls.
As for swami belts, it took a long time before I wanted to wear a harness--the early ones did not fit very well and would get out of position. Also you couldn't move the rope off to the side while working in cracks.
However, I had a self inflected awakening while on a stunt fall for a movie filmed in the Valley.
Dave Bircheff and I were picked to play two smart mouthed climbers who had a problem with the authority of the park rangers (we were naturals). We get our comeuppance when I take a fall, injury myself, and the rangers have to rescue us.
Anyway, we are wearing really nice knickers, long socks, and rib sweaters for the "big day." I still climbed with a swami, so I carefully tied it on over the top of my sweater--one inch tubular in a nice purple shade to go with the blue ribbed sweater. I also tied it rather tight at my waist.
Dave and I both have mikes on. Everyone can hear what we are saying. So, we don't say much.
Wayne Merry had worked out that we would climb a crack on the west side of the Rostrum that could be seen from the rim. He had rapped down and placed a bolt halfway up this off-width that I was supposed to fall out of.
The director is at the top of this splitter and looking down at me though the crack. He is giving me instructions and asking me questions: I am trying to get up this off-width, on-sight, without grunting, cursing, or falling onto Dave before I clip the bolt.
I get about 6 feet above the bolt and the director says "Okay, fall."
Every cell in my body; every DNA strand; every impulse; every logical thought is resisting.
This has to be spontaneous, I remind myself. I start with the "Watch me's" with increasing panic in my voice.
They thought I was acting.
I ordered my body to let go. Nothing. Hey, I'm in charge here. I said let go. Body responds with a 'we get you the damn part and now you want us to follow orders?'
Damn it. 'Let go.'
I was off. A steep fall on a short rope. I jerk violently to a stop.
The crowd on the rim gasps in unison--there are a lot of people on movie sets. The director gasps. After which, his crew, confident of the correct response, gasps.
I am passing out.
Director: "That's good. Now, try to move."
Climber: "..."
Director: "That's good. Really good. Now your lines are "I think I am hurt."
Climber: ".............."
Director: "Okay, now that's good. That's good, good. Now try saying it a little louder.” Pause. With just a hint of ‘are you listening to me,’ "I think I am hurt."
Climber: Coming back into the world. "I think I am hurt."
Director: Getting excited, “Great. Great. Really well done. Now try saying it a little louder.”
Climber: Barely audible. "I think I'm hurt."
Director: "That's really super, really great. Fabulous. Just fabulous. Now, if I could just get you say it louder. With some intensity. Intensity.”
Climber: With intensity and a true projection of pain. "It feels like my back is broken."
Director: Pause. “Okay, okay. That might work. Can you try the ‘I think I am hurt’ with the same intensity." Turns to aide, “This is really good. Just fabulous. It looks so real.”
Climber: "No, no. It feels like my back is broken.
Director: Looks confused. "Hey, Roger, you okay."
Climber: "I need to go down."
Director, with alarmed look: “Yeah, yeah, go down, go down."
So Dave lowers me the ledge. Once I have the weight off my swami, I realize the pain is in my ribs. The adrenalin kicks in, and the pain subsides.
I look back at the rim. There are one hundred people staring in shock. I look up, the director and his crew are looking down. We both realize that neither of us wants to come back here. I do a quick calculation that once the adrenalin rubs off; I am going to be one hurting, slow dog, with no swagger.
I stand up without a word, drop my knickers and step into a figure eight sling. Dave hands me a pocket knife, and I cut two small holes, one in the knickers and one in the sweater (boy was it a nice sweater).
I run a smaller sling from the figure eight up through the hole in the knickers and out the hole in the sweater. I run the rope through the hidden sling and tie into the swami. Now my weight is on my legs and off my waist and ribs.
Climber: "I am okay. I'll climb back up to the place where I fell. Let's finish the scene."
(Hey, Valley climbers have a long history of public swagger to uphold, especially when there are lots of people watching and our pay checks are on the line.)
Director: "That's really super great. Fabulous. Just fabulous."
Limited vocabulary.
We finish the scene.
The producer has driven up. He and Wayne meet us on the rim. We ride down to the hospital. The producer tells Dr. Wally Laborde to send any bills directly to him.
After checking me out, Wally says that I have ripped the lower ribs off my sternum. They push out against my chest. It hurts like hell. He puts a wide elastic bandage around my chest to increase the pain to searing white hot.
No need to put on any airs with Wally. So I tell him that it feels fine.
When I get out of eye sight I loosen the bandage to point that it is only for show.
It hurt for about four more years. My ribs still stick out.
The producer gave Dave and me each a $500.00 bonus.
I started wearing a harness.
Best, Roger
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