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happiegrrrl
Trad climber
New York, NY
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Topic Author's Original Post - Feb 8, 2007 - 06:17pm PT
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How about some stories on big run outs and the feelings it provoked, of times when you were wishing for gear and not getting it, looking at unpleasant falls and crap like that?
I don't have much, but I know some of you people have some good ones. I really only have 2 instances. The first was leading p2 of Bitchy Virgin. The route was the first R-rated line of the Gunks, but now is reted G-PG, due to the "advent of small camming units," as the book tells it. I had one small cam, and the rest of the line I protected on nuts and tricams. I actually found plenty of placements....but in my heart I knew they were bogus. It truly knew I had to not fal, because there was a good possibility of ripping gear. I didn't want to experience that if I could avoid it, but the honest to God truth was that I feared going down onto the belay, and that just couldn't happen. It was one thing to hurt or kill myself.....bad enough to ruin my partner's day with something like that. But quite another thing to bring him down too. A wholly unacceptable situation. Very powerful, being presented with moves that were tough for me, and I HAD to commit to making them...not just "trying." Man - I still can feel the experience today when I remember.
I wrote about it here, but honestly, I am more interested in reading about your harrowing runs.
http://happiegrrrlclimbing.blogspot.com/2005/12/when-goings-run-out-tough-keep-running.html
the other one was p1 of a climb called Diane. It is listed as a 5.8 in the book, but the first pitch is 5.4PG. My partner and I had gotten to the cliffs a little late, and she had her eye set on Moonlight. We got there, and of course there was someone on it. So, we headed on.... Finally we come across this line and my friend suggests I lead it. I had been pooh-poohing other suggestions for my lead and it was becoming evident that I was a clucking chicken.... I looked at the route and could see it, but also that the first piece was 20 feet off the ground. Still, the climbing looked straightforward, and so I agreed to give it a go.
As I did that final shrug of the rack, straightened my shoulders and stepped up....the commitment seemed to grow exponentially....But I cast off anyway, after getting my partner to fully understand I may downclimb and chicken out.
Personally, I like routes where I can set a solid multi-directional piece on the friggin ground, if the climbing starts off at my limit. I like it even on easier stuff too....but anyway. One thing I do NOT like is having to get more than 3 or 4 moves up before I can place gear, if the climbing is even slightly technical. I will never be a highball boulderer, that's for sure.
Well...this climb had a fairly easy start, but you have to get real close and stay balanced very soon after getting on. And, of course, that first gear placement seems like it's getting further away with each move.
Queasiness starts to come into my stomach as I get to the point where I know that coming off is no longer safe. The balance act begins to feel like a thumping bass line..."Oh," I realize..."that would be the throb of my heartbeat."
When I finally got to the gear spot, it wasn't as bomber as I'd hoped. It wasn't crappy, but it wasn't one of those "Oh....I feel so much better" feelings. But, it was what it was. At least I had a nice big juicy cam sunk. Two more moves and I realized I was friggin in deck zone again! It really felt like the route had duped me. I even heard a sinister laugh....or was it me, giggling with nervous energy?
I got the second piece in, at maybe 30 feet. To a lot of people, this wouldn't be any sort of an issue at all, But it wasn't a lot of people; it was me. But after that piece, I felt okay. The climbing continued to be runout on smallish , balanc-y holds, but it was very straightforward. The crux was a reachy one, and had some commitment factor, and then more run-out straightforward climbing. Nice, interesting dance, back and forth, finding the easy way through.
I was pretty happy doing it, after knowing the deck would not be a possibility, because I really do place a lot of gear. Still at the stage where there's so much going on in a lead, that I don't stop to analyze whether it's necessary or I can make some more moves safely, this rote forced me to climb above gear beyond my comfort level. It was interesting, the sensation of the gear becoming more distant, and my commitment adjusting to maintain equilibrium....
Anyway - that's it for me. Your turn!
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WBraun
climber
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Ho ho ho
Did someone just run it out? Close your eyes, turn away and don't look.
50 feet out with no pro on the last pitch of the Sun of Heart freaking out making hook placements where there are none. I had to climb out on the edge because where you normally climb there was a waterfall running down the crack.
What's a Werner to do, help! Shipley laughing at me and yelling summit or plummet.
Isn't it fun?
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AbeFrohman
Trad climber
new york, NY
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Summit or Plummet! Love it.
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Jaybro
Social climber
The West
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Yeah Walt brought out the peril sensative glasses response (I couldn't look) in me, the belayer, on an attempt on that arching wide (Lightning bolt) crack on Mt Broderick. He ran it way out after i bailed on the lead, underclinging the flake while his feet were popping off unsavory black lichen. The only pro he had in between the belay and his spot fifty or more feet father along were 2 home made giant cams with a bad cam angle, known to jump out of cracks at odd times times, at the last posssible moment a smaller side crack materialised; he threw in 3.5 friend, clipped it into the rope and fell, saving both our lives, for a while, anyway.
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WBraun
climber
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Yeah Jaybro
That was insane for sure. He could have easily have died that day.
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Moof
Trad climber
A cube at my soul sucking job in Oregon
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Early in my leader career, and second time to Lover's Leap we ended up on East Wall. We'd just done Pop Bottle, and didn't really look at the guidebook too carefully before heading up. So there we are at the top of P1, a big sandy ledge, having no clue there the route is supposed to go. First I try the dihedral in the corner, no dice, crap for pro, lots of lichens, not it. I downclimb, scratch my head, and end up going straight up on the right.
After a couple non-reversible moves and not finding any worthwhile pro, there I am. I'm told there is some OK pro in there, but me being a noob leader, I sure didn't find it. I've lead at most 5.8 at this point, and did that in very poor style. I'm facing about 8' of liebacking with my feet on lichens, and my hands on a pretty rounded corner. Ugh. Pro is about 6' below my feet, and consists of a #6 nut sticking halfway out of a bottoming crack, and the rest will do nothing for ledgefall. Aw f*#k. Paste feet, pull on edge like my life depends on it, and start a walking. I had no clue if better stuff lie ahead, and didn't even know what I was going for, or how I was going to exit the lieback. After 8' I do a tricky exit out of the lieback, bellyflop, and pant.
Another hour goes by while I look all over the east face for the remainder of the route, or heck just a good anchor spot... I eventually downclimb enough to rejoin the route (thanks to the red sling on that #1 friend, like a moth to a flame...).
Upon pulling myself and an anchor together at the bushy ledge my partner starts up. It takes him 2 falls to follow the lieback section. Still not sure why I didn't splat.
That section wasn't marked in my book as being part of any route, but my buddy Tad told me a few years later it was 5.9.
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Wild Bill
climber
Ca
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Climbing a new line on Mt. Starr King a few years ago. Was about 60' feet above my only piece (a small friend behind a thick flake) making hard 5.9 face moves on virgin terrain. Making a high step onto an exfoliation flake, feeling and hearing those little granite ball bearings crunching under my contact patch, blowing away lichen and crust for each move.
Invigorating but nauseating. My partner came up to the belay, held up the single friend he'd cleaned, and just shook his head.
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mooser
Trad climber
seattle
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Climbing in the Czech Republic. Nyaaaaah!
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SammyLee
Trad climber
Memphis
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As a new trad leader, getting in over my head has happened a couple of times. In Batesville Arkansas, there are some trad lines that I wanted to do. It looked pretty thin for gear but not all that hard of a climb so I launched off. I got about 15 feet up and got a solid piece in and moved on. Fiddled about for several minutes trying to find a spot for the next one and finally got a fair nut in about 30 off the deck.
As I moved up, I could not find anyplace to put gear. I moved up some more and again, found nothing. I kept going and I am maybe 60 feet above ground and can see nothing good above me except the anchors another 30 feet or so. I knew that if I fell, it would either hurt me super badly or kill me. Since this was just a 5.6er and I felt pretty strong, I just went for it. By the time I got to the chains, I was feeling it and regreting my decision. My belayer kept his mouth shut and watched. I used to wreck dive and we used to talk about feeling the "dark monster" close in. I felt it that day for sure.
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RRK
Trad climber
Talladega, Al
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my best climbing bud for 30 years had a full run-out fall both ways - around 300' (ropes were shorter back then) and lived with some injuries that required hospitalization ( I would have been the checkers champ by now) but continued to climb with no serious problems - mental or physical for the next 30 years(though he had a 100 footer later on with no significant injuries). As Paul Harvey says "the rest of the story" goes like this - he goes to the New River Rendezvous in May of last year- which I missed due to vehicle problems - and grounds from 20 or so feet and basically has the same injuries. Thanks to Mal Daley for helping him on the hike-out and checking in later at the hosp - you can call in that marker whenever you need it. I told him that first he was trying to show that you could fall 300 feet and live, and then he tried to show that you could fall 20 feet and die. He didn't see the humor in that. As some of you know I grounded from the top of a collapsed ladder in '05 and broke my back in 5 places. From these experiences I now theorize that life close to the ground is what is most dangerous. If you really want to live then you need to get several hundred feet between you and the ground - gives you time to make another plan
RRK
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Mungeclimber
Trad climber
one pass away from the big ditch
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Marginal on the Grack, very marginal. Good style, no falling.
A sea of friction is right!
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Derek
climber
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I was climbing at a great granite area in Switzerland called the Grimsel Pass, and headed out with my then-girlfriend to do some 3-star 5.10 slab route. We'd heard it climbed a gorgeous black water streak, which along with a guidebook topo showing some bolts in the middle of the streak, was all the beta we had, since neither of us spoke or read German.
After an uneventful first pitch or two, sure enough, we found ourselves beneath a stunning black water streak on perfect rock. I start right up the middle of the thing on thin friction, and keep going looking for the bolts the topo indicates are there. I figured they must be painted, and thus hard to see in the dark colored rock...
Despite no bolts or other pro in sight, I continue up, foolishly making unreversible (for me) mid 5.10 moves on pure, sustained friction. 20', 25', 30', 35' up. Somewhere along the way, it occurs to me (I can be a bit dim, it seems) that something ain't quite right, but by then I'm fully committed. A femur up my nostril seems like a best case scenario at this point.
I make a couple of more moves, when my gf suddenly says "ummm...Derek?". "What???" I say testily (I'm rather gripped, you see. 40' ledge-out potential has that effect on me).
"Look out to your right". I do.
"No, further right. Out near the edge of the water streak".
My eyes scroll about 25' right across utterly featureless terrain and catch a glimpse of gleaming metal salvation. A bolt! I look down below it, following the edge of the streak, and see 2 more. All below me. I look above. There are at least 2 more in a plumb line with the others. All far enough away they may as well have been in Ohio.
To make a long story not quite as long, I ended up having to run out the entire 60' pitch to the belay, able to see the occassional bolt over to the right, but completely unable to reach them.
After approximately 37 years on lead, I finally made it to the belay, clipped in, and promptly dry-heaved.
What a dumb ass. Gotta love it. Cool route. Do you think I get credit for an FA? lol....
-Derek
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GOclimb
Trad climber
Boston, MA
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Not much of a story, but I'm pretty much a pussy, so it's all I've got:
Ever do a senility onsight? One of those climbs where you're onsighting it even though you've done it before?
North Conway. Never done this crack before, but it sure does look sweet. Retaliation is the name. I'll spare the boring details, but just mention that most of the thing is an undercling/lieback job on balancy feet where if you tried to get down low to find a place in the crack for gear, you'd immediately ping. Based on the crap gear I'd placed by feel alone, I didn't feel much like pinging. Made it to the belay in one piece. My second, a strong climber, fell so many times, and got more frustrated than I'd ever seen her in her life. How I managed to keep it together and not fall... ?
On the way down, it started to dawn on me. Wait a minute, that felt kind of familiar. Uhhhh. Gears grinding in my brain. Yeah! When I first started climbing, I'd followed a strong leader on this same route. Found it so tenuous, balancy, awkward. Now it all came back to me in a rush - when I finished the pitch, I had said to my leader - "Holy crap - amazing nice lead! That's one climb I will never, ever, lead."
Hah!
GO
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426
Sport climber
Buzzard Point, TN
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Missed the anchor way right on "Sh#t Hooks" circa '91 and (accidently) finished on a nebulous bachar solo route. The two pieces (RPs) I had in above SH fell out when I pulled up the rope. My "buddy" drew a chalk X mark where I was likely to land...while I was on route...thx bud.
Heard that's all been "straightened out" (?)
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G_Gnome
Boulder climber
Sick Midget Land
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I just don't want to talk about them. Too many. Too scared. Too stupid.
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Gunkie
climber
East Coast US
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2nd pitch of the Salathe / Free Blast circa 1991. Three of us were fixing three pitches late in the day for a morning blast-off. One partner led the 1st pitch, another jugged up on a free rope, and I cleaned the pitch.
It was a full-on cluster f*#k at the hanging belay, so I grabbed whatever gear I could get a hold of plus the lead line and a haul line and a bottle of water and took off. Back then I said, "hell, it's only 5.8!" Well the biggest piece I had on the rack was a 2.5 Friend and I placed that 10 feet off the belay. I got up a bit higher and realized that the crack was getting bigger, but the layback edge is *so* good I just kept going. Fifteen feet below the belay I got myself situated on some face holds out right before the final OW moves. Then I looked down.
The rope was running 60' with no gear to the 2.5 Friend, then 10' to the belay. My partners' eyes were the size of tea cup saucers. I think I got what is called 'snail eye' at this point, but was fully committed. I took a drink of water, stepped back into the 5.8 squeeze and vowed to jam whatever body part into that crack that would keep me from pasting a slanting corner 100' below.
I don't remember much except forcing my head into that crack and grabbing loose chockstones and choss in order to grovel my way up to the anchor.
I was toast for a few days after this and I was probably the reason we bailed from the Salathe @ Lung Ledge a couple of days later. That Hollow Flake was talking to me.
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Chiloe
Trad climber
Lee, NH
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That Hollow Flake was talking to me.
I recall Hollow Flake as a climb-like-you-mean-it experience. Not super hard, but spooky looking down as you heel-toe with the rope through a whole lot of nothing, way up off the deck.
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Ksolem
Trad climber
LA, Ca
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The route: Race With The Devil, Suicide Rock
When: At least 15 years ago (but I remember it like yesterday.)
The first pitch has one bolt, about 1/3 of the way up, just above the crux. Too Strong says "No sweat, I can catch your skinny ass in my hands from there.." So I get to the bolt, and express reservations about the runout above, which still looks hard. He says "Don't worry, I can run downhill faster than you can fall."
On both counts I believed him. Yikes! (And trust me there were no tunes playing in my head right then.)
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Inner City
Trad climber
East Bay
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How great is this thread? Another opportunity for the everyman (or less) to share an adventure. I previously described my petrifying experience on Shoot the Moon (5.9x) below Lunar Leap on Lembert dome in Tuolumne (another thread.)
This one was on Black Dagger in Red Rocks (5.7R) Maybe harder than that--It was the second or third pitch where you go up a long right facing crackhedral, as a challenged crack climber with good length, I moved out onto the face, eschewing the safety of the burly wide bit to move higher. Higher and higher I went, until the face holds started to wane and I was still 15 feet right of the crack. Looking down, my rope was blowing out into the breeze and must have been 75 feet to my last piece...my spot was fine, but I had to move left, as above the angle steepened and would not be good. Downclimbing seemed a non-option for me as well, as fear started to take over.
I considered my situation, yelled meaningless things at my belayer, who must have wondered about my sanity having left the corner so long ago. I think it was a 5.8 move I made back to the now easier corner and backed off of it, replacing my foot a number of times before finally committing to the move, a matching foot thing, and, YES, over to the JUG. I was so scared that my whole body started shaking, now that I was safe, next to an easily slotted cam. I couldn't move for 5 minutes.
There must be some added value in telling these tales, as my present sweaty hands may help me to not so stupidly go to such a place again. Thanks for listening....the route on up, including the "tunnel through" bit and final pitch were quite a joy...ah climbing..
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Broken
climber
Texas
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Feb 16, 2007 - 11:41am PT
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Rumney late one afternoon towards the end of fall:
I arrived with about an hour and a half til dark. A quick jog up to the nearest crag and I was soon swept away in that weird momentum you get after a half dozen climbs in quick succession. It had rained the day before and some climbs were still marred by seepage.
The light was fading fast, but I wanted to do one more. All that was left was a 5.9 that I'd never done. I knew that it had a low crux and figured I'd give it a go.
The crux was harder than I expected but felt fine as I was only 10-15 feet up. I entered the wet section thirty feet off the deck and was struck by the realization that I couldn’t down-climb from where I was; it was too dark and wet.
I stayed calm, shook out a little, and continued. Things were in control for the final 20 feet to the anchors - until I realized that the anchors were just beneath the cliff top and the top out was questionable. There was a small overhang at the anchor, and I fiddled around there for a few minutes, gradually getting pumped, trying to decided what to do. I'd reached past the anchors and felt above - it was covered in a wet muck of muddy grass and leaves and was steeper sloping than I’d expected.
Eventually I did what I had to do (as people do...) -- I threw a heel hook in the muck and rocked up onto it, hoping that it wouldn't pop. Then I locked off and reached above, clawing for grass roots beneath the mud.
I was frozen there for a minute (thoughts flashing through my head of how my climbing partner would explain it to my mother...).
Then I went for it, both hands in the muck, all the weight on that soggy heel hook, standing up on the wet sod...
Scrambled up on top and sat on a boulder, head in hands, heart exploding... A hollow feeling of escape, not victory, followed me down the trail to the car...
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Broken
climber
Texas
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Feb 16, 2007 - 11:47am PT
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and then there was the time that my rope froze in a patch of sunlight/slush 60 feet below me on the ice... couldn't downclimb to it. I was usually able to free it by yarding on the rope with one hand. But it took a lot of juice - and if there wasn't somewhere bomber to bury my axe so I could pull on the rope... well, not good times. Bad times.
Whenever I stopped to place a screw or figure out a move, it froze... The solution? Keep moving!
(of course, it became more complicated than that... out of screws, 50 feet above the last piece, rope frozen, 20 more feet to the belay....ah....)
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Zam
Trad climber
San Francisco
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Feb 16, 2007 - 01:03pm PT
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Ran out of rope on Black Uhru in TM, as there are no anchors. Had to unclip and downclimb the whole thing just as the sun went down. I think I was too stupid to realize what I was doing, of course, I throught I was two routes to the right, also, so stupid was definately a factor.
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Moof
Trad climber
A cube at my soul sucking job in Oregon
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Feb 16, 2007 - 01:35pm PT
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Still early in my leader career we went up to Guttenberg Wall in Cosumnes River Gorge. We picked a 5.7 bolted line on the far right edge to be different from our well worn normal 5.7 up the thing. The topo shows very few bolts, but I figure it's artistic license or something.
We'd been on the first shared pitch several times before, no biggy.
The second pitch was easy 4th class for the most part, but the river roar made communications impossible. My usual partner took this pitch. Somehow he used the whole rope and took forever to build an anchor. Turns out he tried to link up to the third pitch anchor, ran out of rope, downclimbed to a small stance and yelled for slack to be reeled in before downclimbing further. Of course I heard nothing, and being 4th class I had no idea there was a pile of slack under him. You never yard on a leader...
Fiasco finished and we moved up the short third pitch where the route actually gets some steepness.
I get racked up and start looking for the "route". It's not a popular route, no white path of wear amongst the lichens. I eventually spot a bolt (and not a shiny one) a ways up. A long ways up. After a good 35' of runout on small edges and crap divits I get to the rust beard with one of those recalled leeper's at it's top with the remnants of 1/4" pound in sort of holding it there. Joy. I clip it, hoping it won't pull under the weight of my draw and contemplate death. Looking down I note that right below my buddy and his wife is the low angle ramp I'll bounce off of when I fall.
I start scoping for bolt #2. Great, can't see it. I put my face against the rock and see something poking out about 40' higher. Great! It has to be better than this bolt, right? This section is not just lichens and edges, but some of the edges are actually only semi attached. You know that bad feeling you get when you realize that handhold you put lots of effort into avoiding dues to the 8" cracks what opened up when you pulled on it is now your foothold? Yeah, I do too.
40' more done, same vintage bolt, longer rust beard. Nothing I trust between me and that lovely ramp. Joy.
I repeat the excersize of locating the next bolt. Crap, can't see it. I remember that somewhere out left is another route. It has to have better bolts, right? I slowly move up and left. Nothing really defines this route, so I'm not really leaving behind the comforts of an obvious line. Soon I see them. Two shiny gifts from heaven. I've hit the motherload! After another eternity of "must not fall" I'm at an anchor with two fat shiny bolts. I clip them both, and suddenly the whole world is 15 degrees less steap. I can see where ther top rap station is and have no problem getting there. Life is good. I'm spent.
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scuffy b
climber
The town that Nature forgot to hate
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Feb 16, 2007 - 05:28pm PT
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At Sespe Gorge there's a dividing line between good rock and bad
rock. Crossing that line sets one up for groundfall potential
on Pitch 2, A3 protection and footholds that can be moved by hand.
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BrentA
Gym climber
Roca Rojo
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Feb 16, 2007 - 05:38pm PT
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New pitch right of Aurora coming in from Scorched Earth...maybe 8 or ten or something????/
Three 15 foot cheater stick hook moves to blind edges in a row...
Jah's truth...
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Pappy
Trad climber
Atlanta
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Feb 16, 2007 - 05:45pm PT
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Unfortunately, rounouts are just a fact of life in NC, but at least you know that the FA managed to do it without dying. What's bad is when you do it to yourself because you're STUPID.
Doc Bayne, ML and I were putting up a new route in '95, and late in the afternoon Doc and I get to the top of P3 with one more to go. We decide it's too late to finish that day, and the last pitch looks like it's going to be pretty trivial anyway and we've done the meat. So we put some stuff in a bottoming horizontal--half driven baby angle, #1 tricam and hex that we plaster in with a hammer--just good enough to rap off. The ethic is that you don't drill unless there is no other option. The next week Doc can't even be bothered to finish the line and starts a new one to the right while ML and I climb up to finish things off. We're taking things lightly and ML clips into the mank for an anchor while I lead out.
So I climb up to a spot where I can reach up to a horizontal and find that it's a bit rounded and slopey. In fact, it's kind of in my face and there's nothing in the way of feet and I'm futzing about and ML asks what's taking so long. I'm getting pissed that I'm climbing like a pansy so I get the best hands I can and launch up in to a mantle and damned if the rock isn't still kind of in my face, what the hell happened to the low angle slab that was supposed to be here? I'm pawing my foot up trying to get it onto the sloping horizontal that really isn't that damn wide after all before I pitch off backwards and with sudden perfect clarity I realize that I can't back out of this, I'm likely to fall, and if I do I'm going 20' straight onto the crappy anchor and both of us are going 300' to the ground. Like a laser my mind goes right to what needs to be done and I push through and stand up. Then I freak.
Now I shuffle over right to a water groove and am happy as sh#t to get a shallow TCU in and the horror is over. I'm just shaking my head that I'm climbing that poorly and the groove still feels steep and really slick, but there's another little horizontal about 15' higher and I sketch up to that, but it turns out to be a flared rounded POS and the TCU that might have fit it is 15' down, but what the hey, I'm on trivial ground now. So I figure out how to slot an RP in sideways so that it hangs behind a little crystal, just to give myself a little mental edge after the horror of the mantle, and it looks like in another 25' the angle kicks back and it should be really trivial. So I'm pawing up the groove and it's really slick and there just isn't the kind of feature that you expect in a low angle groove and I'm beginning to sketch and about 15' out from the silly RP I realize that I do after all have the damn bolt kit with me and I could just drill something and be done with the stress. But I'll be GODDAMMED if I'm going to put a bolt in our new route on what I'm sure is 5.7 ground just because I'm climbing like a damn pussy. Besides. my feet are barely sticking anyway and there's nothing like a stance and I'm beginning to freak again and 10' up and left I see this beautiful, sharp, thank god flake. Thankfully, the laser part of the mind takes over again and with ninja like precision I work up the slight ripples that I know are just 5.7 even though I'm climbing like sh#t so that they feel really hard until I can sink two socker jams behind the flake and then a big fat unit. I lean back to tell ML that this fiasco is finally over and he's like, 60' down there still clipped to that crappy anchor and damned if it doesn't look a lot steeper from above than it looked from below, and down around the one TCU between me and him there's a biner on the rope with a little RP hanging off it.
Subsequent ascentionists have settled the grade of the mantle at 10d, but being smarter people they have drilled two fat bolts for an anchor. I still get calls occassionally from people who want to add a bolt to the groove above there because they think it borders on unjustifiable at 10a without one, but I tell'em FU, I lived, you can just do it the same way. Not that I would know if they did because I have nb intention of going through that again myself.
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kev
climber
CA
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Feb 17, 2007 - 05:16pm PT
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bump - this is climbing related....
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Mungeclimber
Trad climber
sorry, just posting out loud.
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Jan 12, 2008 - 03:25am PT
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bump - yes indeed this is climbing related, and picture to BOOT....
Munge in Repose, freaked out mind tweaking repose, but still...
2 shitty pieces in damn near a full rope length. wtf was I thinking? LOL
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neebee
Social climber
calif/texas
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Jan 12, 2008 - 04:04am PT
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hey there... man, you guys sure got maximum "steel gut" power...
say, some of this leads to stuff i dont fully understand of course... is there anyone here that does great diagrams...?
i'd reaaly like to see more of what the belay does, and what some of the lay looks like, and what the trouble spots look like, by way of a neat-cool diagram....
if anyone can add one here, that would be really neat... thanks guys---just cursious to let it all sink in better, since i aint a climber... but sure would love to "see it all" under the magnifying-scope so to speak...
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BASE104
climber
An Oil Field
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Jan 12, 2008 - 11:11am PT
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I took a hundred footer once! I was 18 and thought that I could do anything, so I didn't give it a second thought. It was just a smear fest, 5.10b, with one bolt right off of the belay, and no more pro. About ten feet below the end of the pitch I just started sliding, and that was that.
I looked like somebody took a bench grinder to me after I got down. I still have nightmares about that one.
As for Walt, if you ever watched him solo, he would start vibrating and you just had to turn your head and look away.
There is this one story about him soloing one of the ski tracks. I think it was the right one. He pitches off the crux and lands on a tourist. Both were unhurt.
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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Jan 12, 2008 - 01:07pm PT
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I posted this elsewhere but I think it works here too!
For your Stratolounging pleasure with the background music of your choice , ole' blue eyes or the Vicious, its all good!
MY WAY
And now, the end is near
And so I face the final curtain.
My friend, I’ve got no gear,
The landing’s bad, and I’ll be hurtin’.
I’ve lived a life that’s full
But now I’m gonna hit the highway.
A chump, a dumb ass chump,
I did it my way
Runouts, I’ve done a few
But then again, too few to mention.
I did what I had to do
And saw it through without protection.
I planned each shaky move,
But this just really isn’t my day.
No pro, no freakin’ pro.
I did it my way.
Yes there were climbs, I’m sure you knew,
When I bit off more than I could chew.
But on this line, there is no doubt,
It ate me up and spit me out.
I’m gonna fall and bite the wall
And did it my way.
I’ve loved, I’ve laughed and cried.
I’ve had my fill, my share of boozing.
And now, as tears subside,
I find this not at all amusing.
To think I’ll auger in
And may I say, not in a calm way
No, oh no not me!
I did it my way!
For what is a man, what has he got?
With no piece in sight, you ain’t got squat.
To yell the things he truly feels
Cartwheeling down, after he peels!
The record shows I took the blows
And did it my way!
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divad
Trad climber
wmass
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Jan 12, 2008 - 02:54pm PT
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Hey Terrie,
When I saw this I thought what another good thread by Happie.
Then I noticed that it's almost a year old. Wonder how I ever missed it. I guess it was before I was spending so much time here. (Damn, I gotta get back to those days.)
Many years ago, when I knew just about enough about climbing to get myself killed, I launched up the 2nd pitch of Tequila Mockingbird at the Gunks. I soon found myself off route and nearing 20 ft. above my last pro. Although the climbing above looked doable, it was obviously unprotectable. To me, climbing has always been about making decisions and this was a big one, to continue up and increase the distance of a potential fall, or to try to downclimb and search for any protection possibilities. I soon found myself in a position where going down was out of the question and going back up was going to harder as the pump factor was ramping up very quickly. After what seemed like 20 minutes in one spot on desperatly thin holds I began to whimper but immediately told myself to shut the fu*k up as I had chosen to be here doing this. I was thinking how agonizing the last moments of my life were going to be as the fall potential became reality.
When it finally happened, I actually felt some relief from the desparation of trying to hang on. Upon coming to after 10 minutes, (I was later told) the first thing I can remember thinking was why the grey shirt I was wearing was now red. Soon I could feel a slight burning sensation on my forehead and was beginning to realize that I had fallen and was injured. As my head began to clear I could hear my partner calling from above and asking if I was OK. After assuring him I was, the lowering process started, and soon I was on the ground, surprised to see a litter and assembled group of climbers and rangers. When I blurted out that I was fine, there were a few laughs and a stern voice telling me to get in the litter.
At the hospital I can recall the ER doc say: "I'm not touching this. Call a plastic surgeon."
Upon release on the same day, my partner told me that I took a clean 40+ ft. whipper but that the rope pulled off a 50lb. block that grazed my head while I hung upside down. What luck!
After many years of climbing and more than several leader falls I still never give in to the thought that a fall is inevitable and I don't think that I have ever yelled "falling". Maybe it's denial, caused by this incident, or maybe brain damage, haha.
Who knows?
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SteveW
Trad climber
Denver, CO
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Jan 14, 2008 - 06:03pm PT
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This isn't a Happie topic!!!!!
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hobo_dan
Social climber
Minnesota
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Jan 14, 2008 - 06:13pm PT
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I wrote this earlier but it is about pitch number two on One Way Sunset- Devils Tower
and more Devils Tower
In 1986 in July I had locked up the group site at the campground and was charging people a couple of bucks to camp there- things were fine until some guy who could add figured out I was making a profit- then he wanted a piece of the action so I gave up my concession then it rained and and everyone left and the guy ended up losing money on the deal
Anyway these two guys roll up in a VW bus from Middlebury College- they have been living on Tortilla chips for the last two days. For camping one of them is sleeping under the van. They seem to have the right "attitude" so we begin climbing together.
HJ Schmidt and Thatcher Fields. We climb Carols Crack and then Mr. Clean. I fall on both routes. But with a little tight rope i get up.
Bill Meyer arrives from Boulder with Cyndy? He and HJ have ambition and they go off to climb mythical lines-some Grateful Dead song route with a roof at 5.12? I tried looking it up in my Dingus McGee guidebook but the hardest route is only 5.11.
HJ pulls the roof and then attempting to clip in a piece the rope jams and things get ugly-at least for HJ- I did not see it but I heard it was very entertaining watching him tug and tug and tug......20 vertical feet later all is well. And a story is born.
The fall had grown to 50 feet the last time I saw HJ- and maybe it was. I'll see him this summer and I expect nothing less.
Thatcher and I are now relegated to the B team so we go to do the "mega classic" One Way Sunset. Low angle, fingercrack, great pro-10c I suppose if you had sausage fingers it would be classic but being skinny and wiry I rattled all the way up the 1st pitch.
At the belay I want out but we had told some guy named Taurus that we would get his abandoned hex from pitch two out for him. I suggest that we go down but Thatch shames me into continuing.
Pitch two is Tower 5.9-very long. The pitch starts with wonderful hands. It is being fed nicely by my rack and as it goes higher its hunger continues and it wants more and bigger pieces. Eventually, I have fed it all I can but it is insatiable. The crack keeps growing wider.I am down to my last number 3 friend. I leap frog it for as long as i can but 40 feet from the belay is the last place it will go in. It keeps getting wider and I have nothing big enough to satisfy. (funny how climbing can mirror life).
I turn off my head and start to climb "efficiently" this works for about 10 feet and then my body informs me that we are a long way from home. At twenty feet I am unhappy. At thirty feet I start to cut deals with God. If he will just let me travel ten more feet I promise I'll be good-he knows better-but he gives me the ten feet and I was very glad to get to the anchors.
Anyone else have fun on this route?
Murf
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scuffy b
climber
Stump with a backrest
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Jan 14, 2008 - 06:24pm PT
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Sorry to say, Murf,
but when I went to the Tower (only once, wahhh)
my partner (local knowlege) told me we would
not be doing the upper pitches of things due to size and quality.
Some ever-expanding gear-eating cracks I merely looked at:
P3 of Mr Clean, p3 (or p2)of Tulgey Wood.
I've heard other stories of people running out of gear 1/2 way
up some of those upper pitches.
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Toker Villain
Big Wall climber
Toquerville, Utah
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Jan 14, 2008 - 07:57pm PT
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Last pitch on the FA of the Spearhead (via Iron Messiah) I ran it out 80' on relatively easy face, but the sandstone edges were very friable so I was more concerned with snapping holds than slipping.
Later I called the pitch 5.4X on the topo.
Later still somebody told me that they went another way BECAUSE THEY COULDN'T SEE THE BOLT.
Apparently it hadn't occured to them that an easy pitch could still be very serious so they assumed that the X represented a protection bolt.
Doh!
Only one of my routes is unprotected enough to hit the ground if one falls from the second pitch, but Full Metal Jockstrap has a few runouts (although the harder moves have good pro).
Still, a well used line about no old bold climbers comes to mind.
You have to choose your moments.
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Ksolem
Trad climber
Monrovia, Ca
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Jan 14, 2008 - 08:40pm PT
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How about Misadventure (or is it Miss Adventure) in The Meadows. Somewhere on the first pitch I was waaaay above a bolt and did some hardish moves to get my hands on a sloping horizontal feature. This proud route is stance bolted so one must get stood on this feature to clip. There was a nice little knob to step up on with the right foot, and everything was looking fine: Right foot on the knob, left up on the horizontal just so, and press it out. But, as luck would have it most of the knob broke off just before my left foot was placed. It never occurred to me the knob would break, as good as it looked. I came off, but somehow in one of those completely transcendental moments, I held the sloper in my hands. I heard my belayer scream, but I stuck it.
Of course I still had to do the move. Looking at it I saw there was enough of the knob left that it was basically the same deal. We finished the route and lived to tell the tale.
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Big Kahuna
Ice climber
Hell Hardest climb I did was getting out of bed.
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Jan 14, 2008 - 08:52pm PT
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This was written many years ago but it gives me quite laugh every time I read it. Sorry for all the profanity but the dialog is as accurate as I could remember. It was fairly sporty due to the nature of the sandy grainy rock.
The Breakfast Club
So there we were, at the "breakfast club" (a table full of SAR GUYS, SAR = Yosemite search and rescue) some of them (SARS) are "GROVELING"(eating left over food that the tourist don't throw away) and my wife asks "What are you doing?" A SAR boy looks up and replies "groveling what else!"
My friend "MONKEY BOY" tells me I should go get on Selagenilla a 5 pitch 5.8. He said "take the Commitment a 3 pitch 5.9 to get to the start of it, ending in a total of eight pitchs altogether. Take the Yosemite Falls trail back down to the valley and we'll have some beers tonight !
A tourist looks over in disgust at another SAR BOY groveling some leftovers from yet another table. "JIM I" comes over with his girlfriend, an employee from the cafeteria. The SAR boys start to drool as she leaves them 4 big pancakes, bacon & eggs. They all dig in and feast. Another one grabs a coffee cup from a recently vacated table and gets a free refill. Another tourist leaves a danish half eaten and it's desert for the "club".
Kelle' & I leave to start our day of climbing. After a short walk we find the base of our route. We fire off the first route no problem. We are rewarded with a scenic view of the Lost Arrow Spire. Three fantastic pitches with no crowds and a nice little roof move just to make it a little fun. What more could we have asked for!
At the breakfast club Kelle' had got most of the beta on how to find Selaginella from "MONKEY BOY", (a.k.a "THE COILER") when I went to the bath room so I didn't hear much of it first hand. After topping out on the Commitment we were to head up and right, find a 3rd class ramp, traverse it, then head up 5.8 crack.
We found a ramp as we gazed at the wall in awe, belays and slings were everywhere (not a good sign). Routes seemed to be all over the place. We rejoiced after climbing three wonderful pitches, and were rewarded with this beautiful place all to ourselves, away from the crowds of people and the hordes of climbers monopolizing the standard classic routes, forcing long lines and lots of sitting on your @ss.
I set up a belay for Kelle' on a tree. We were being attacked by a army of fire ants, I tell my wife to fire the first pitch off and head for the tree. I start killing the ants but they just keep coming. They are biteing me. Hundreds at a time I kill them. I belay my wife. The ants keep coming like some creepy sci-fi movie, I'm being eaten alive. I keep killing them, ten, twenty at a time.
Kelle' disapears around the corner. She screams "oh' sh#t, - F*#k, - F*#k, - AHHH, - uhg, - Ahh"! I asked "Are you ok ?" She replies "The rock is rotten & sandy, and to make matters worse the crack is filled with dirt!" "God I made it, off belay" she yells.
I follow up the traverse, there were no places for her to put in any pro, so if I fell it would have been a "king swing". I hit the traverse, do a small down climb and see Kelle' at the belay, I climb up towards her, "Sh#t this is bad! Man this sucks! Dam how did you? F*#k this sucks, it's so insipid."
I make the belay "Nice lead hon' you did a good job on that one." (It was one of those pitches that you're secretely glad that you weren't on the sharp end) "Thanks" she said. I thought our belay was somewhat dubious and expressed my feelings. Kelle' pipes "You said "head for the tree!" "That's not a tree thats a rotten log, let's back it up with something."
She places a cam in and hands me the rack. The next pitch starts out a ramp that turns into a chimney. The ramp is straight foreward but no place for any pro (again). I get into the crack and get a peice in. It gets steep, real steep, I'm "way" overhang'n. I get a double shoulder lock, this a cool chimney I think to myself. I back step off the back wall and get a funky knee bar. I'm now completely inverted in this large man eating crack. I'm now to the point that my back is pointed to the ground. I'm almost horizontal in this thing.
"Go Lon your a wild man thats cool, crank it" she yells "you can do it!". I find a deep fingerlock inside, I pull up and find a small ledge that I can stem up. I'm run out from my last pro. The chimney widens again and I get another double shoulder lock this time I find a place for pro but I can't get to my rack, I'm screwed. Gotta run it. I go for it, another back step, a knee lock with a pull up and the angle eazes up finally, the route becomes manageable.
I get to the top and find some rotted slings, I look over and see a hangen' belay with two prehistoric rusty old bolts. The line heads up to a tree high on the wall. Kelle' takes the next pitch. It starts out a short 20 ft crack, then traverses on a sloping dike.
She starts the pitch "I don't know about this pro". "What do you mean you don't know? Just back it up then." "F*#k Lon this rock is rotten!" "Just cross the dike and grab that horn" I yelled to her. "F*#k Lon it's bad" she yelled. "Just grab the Horn". "I can't make it" she insisted. "Come on baby you can do it". "F*#k man, I don't, F*#k, I'm sh#t, I'm coming down YOU can have this one". "Ok, I'll lower you". "NO!! I'LL DOWN CLIMB. I don't like the pro" she screamed. "Ok" and down she climbed.
She gave me the rack. I look up, no problem. I cruised up the crack, hit the dike and immediately broke off part of the dike (yikes). I hit a sheild like flake, it's fractured. I thought to myself "I'd like to take that rotten peice of rock for a Tae Kown Do demo, one front punch and I would turn that peice of granite into sand. God, how I could impress people with my technique and power. "Jeez, this crap is holden' my pro" I laugh to myself.
I blindly place a zero TCU. This damn thing isn't going to do dick in a fall I think to myself. Oh' well, its' psychological at least. I'm crankin' hard on a small sloping dike, my right foot is placed up high and to the right in a stretched out fashion on a very small edge. My left is smeared on a small sloper way down and out to my left. I'm completely streched out.
"Go Lon. Come on baby you can do this" she screams. F*#k! the flake is rotten. "I know it's bad up there. Don't fall" she states. The dike was breaking off on me. "Come on, you can make it" she encourages me. I shift my weight, more pressure on my right foot, a little more on the dike. How much can the dike hold before it breaks, I wonder? Suddenly I wish I was a wippit thin 185 lb sport climber.
I shift again crimping hard. My arm is fully extended. I reach under the rotten flake, it's to F*#KING BIG for a fist jam, I'll have to do a straight arm bar and prie into it. I get deeper and deeper. My feet are slipping, I let go of the crumbling dike with my left hand (finally), I lean back on my arm bar, the horn is near. Sweat is dripping down my face.
I start to have that talk with God, the one I always have with him. It's always the same I tell him that I'll quit climbing if he only lets me make this move and live. He knows I'm lying to him but he always gives me a break and let me do the move.
I reach my left arm up and over, then around my head to my right side to grab the horn. My left hand hits it. I might live. I pull out my right arm from the undercling arm bar jam. I throw for the knob, my feet pop, I'm 25 ft off the belay on a one hander (gee, what fun). I grab the horn, my heart beats like a herd of Rhinos, hang on I think to myself, I want to live! I'm getting pumped, way pumped.
My wife yelled "come on LON". I get a solid hold of it with my right hand, my feet smeared on the rock. I'm gripped. I let go with my left and grab a runner off my neck. I sling the horn. CLIP, ...OH' F*#K ME, that was close! I pull up myself up to nothing, blank, zip, notta ...just 5.10 plus smearing, no pro on dirty rotten grainy rock, not my idea of fun climbing.
"Screw this! Let's see if this horn will hold me and I'll lower off." I hollered. After all I already had one conversation with God that day and I did'nt wish to press my luck.
Kelle' lowers me down while I clean the route. We flip the line to get the sling back (I set it up so it could be retreived). I down climb the other side of the chimney to a small tree with rapel slings on it. I lower Kelle' off the slings from the top. We make a few more raps and we are back on the main ledge ALIVE and in ONE piece. God its good to be alive!
By Lon Harter
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Jaybro
Social climber
The West
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Jan 14, 2008 - 09:19pm PT
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Scuff, you never topped out on Deto? Let's go back there! There's a zillion rtes we could have meaningful times on; belaying or team soloing. I've seen you solo scarier shee. Generally the bidnis is lower at the tower, but you gotta get to the summit a few times (it's a harney peak/black Elk thing,) for full perspective! you can view to and beyond the bighorns to the west, and the blackhills to the east.
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O.D.
Trad climber
LA LA Land
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Jan 14, 2008 - 10:17pm PT
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Wow, Munge -- it brought back great memories to see that photo from the Apron. The Grack Marginal was one of my first climbs in the Valley and my very first 5.9 lead as a snot-nosed high-schooler, way, way back in the day (pre-sticky rubber). But the ratings at my home crag were so badly sandbagged, and long run-outs were so commonplace, that when I finished it I thought the Marginal was cake.
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neebee
Social climber
calif/texas
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Jan 14, 2008 - 11:22pm PT
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hey there big kahuna.. say, glad to hear that climb worked out with "its good to be alive"... say, i heard and have seen that ants love rotting areas... looks like they had a field day in that spot, and even a "climb of their own" once some folks showed up...
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Mungeclimber
Trad climber
sorry, just posting out loud.
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Jan 15, 2008 - 02:48am PT
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DETO DETO DETO, RAPUNZEL!
(shades of Airplane, the movie)
let's roll. I'm hoping for close to Autumn time frame.
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scuffy b
climber
Stump with a backrest
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Jan 15, 2008 - 03:06pm PT
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OK OK
Next time I go to the Tower, I Summit.
There. I took the first step.
Tying together the Butte Batholith, Devils Tower, and
the Universal Center of Wide Tranquility or whatever they
call that place...
Could this be tough to pull off in one trip?
OOOH--how about City combined with Batholith,
then (separate trip) Vedauwoo and the Tower?
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marty(r)
climber
beneath the valley of ultravegans
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Jan 15, 2008 - 03:14pm PT
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Can you say, 'You asked for it'?
Someone needs to post up! (Not for the faint of heart!)
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SteveW
Trad climber
Denver, CO
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Jan 15, 2008 - 07:10pm PT
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McGregor Slab on Lumpy Ridge,RMNP. Lubrication, a 5.8 when I did it the first time--followed it. Went back up a few years later and led it--Holy sh*t--it wasn't this hard and the bolts weren't that far apart the first time I did it--of course, I did it on a top rope the first time, silly. Why the hell are my legs going faster than an industrial sewing machine? O god, I hope that bolt is sturdy. . .oh!!!! I finally made it (of course, this recollection is from about the pleistocene era, and all of the details have been lost to beer, drugs, and scotch, but damn, that was a looooooong runout!
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Mike Bolte
Trad climber
Planet Earth
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Jan 18, 2008 - 11:57pm PT
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I'm a little out of place posting this given some of the
experiences of some of the folks on the board, but this
will always be vivid in my mind. I think it was 1979 and
Bill Frey and I were looking for a route called "Sundial"
on the north face of Looking Glass rock in North Carolina.
Weirdly enough, the new Climbing came today and there is a
short article about a route called "The Nose" on this same
face. This is funny rock. Granite with these strange features
the locals call eyebrows all over the place.
You can see them in the photo. From below it looks for sure like
there is a ledge and a place to cram a friend in the back. I had
a #1 Friend and a #2 Friend I'd bought from Ray at C4 that summer.
Bill led the first 5.6ish pitch up to a big ledge (he is
standing there in the photo). Only one piece in 70ft but it was
easy. The #1 Friend is the only pro at the belay.
There is supposed to be a crack up on the second pitch
but we couldn't see it. No problem, it's gotta be up there
someplace.
So, off I go up the steepening face. 30 feet and I'm
getting nervous at a thin move. Good-looking eyebrow just out
of reach. Deep breath, high step and mini dyno to a major-league
disappointment. It's shallow and slopey and the #2 Friend
doesn't stick in the back: bummer. Mantle up, stand there with
my calves and brain feeling the strain. Keep moving up,
replay that move about five times in the next 50 feet and
I'm standing on another slopey ledge staring at a bigger dyno
to the next disappointing eyebrow 80 feet out with nothing
in.
I stand there, calves hitting the melting point. Bill yells
up that if I fall I'll deck. He says he's unclipped from the
belay (so we won't both die when the #1 Friend pulls) and
what do I think about him unclipping the rope from the belay,
I jump off, he yards in as much rope as he can then clips
the rope back into the cam as I go by. That way just in case
the cam holds, I won't hit the ground.
Instead, I start down climbing. A good 30 minutes later I'm
at the ledge after downclimbing a zillion unlikely moves. Every
move I'm swearing I'll never climb again if I can only get
down alive and without any lifelong injuries. I rap
down to the ground and snap the picture up there of Bill getting
ready to come down. We leave that precious Friend up at the
belay.
30 minutes later, we've spotted the REAL Sundial Crack over 100
yards from our climb. Up we go, great 5.8/9, on the rap down
manage to swing over and clean the Friend. Given that I can
hardly remember my phone number or my kids names, how can
I remember this event from 20 years ago so perfectly? This
is why we climb I think. That hour from my life is seared
into my brain.
I read later that a route called "NoseDial" was put up
between the Nose and Sundial. 5.9+ R/X. The description
sounded like our route.
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Fixdpin
Trad climber
Porterville,CA
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Jan 19, 2008 - 04:10am PT
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Race With the Devil on Spanish Highway...Parker Bluff above Johnsondale in the Kern River area. If you don't have balls, balance and boldness in your heart you will take a massive whipper and leave a big red bloody smile on the rock. The higher you go, the more run out it gets on smears and grainy edges. They just don't make em like that any more! If you look up the phrase "total commitment" in the dictionary there will be a picture of Parker Bluff next to the definition.
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knieveltech
Social climber
Raleigh NC
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Bump, this thread is awesome.
My lame addition to the thread:
I was leading the first pitch of Sentinel Buttress at Moore's Wall, maybe my 3rd trad lead. Maybe a third of the way up the route I'm struggling to find a placement in this massive flared junky crap-filled crack. My last piece (what I thought was a bomber #6 nut) is less than 10' away, so after five minutes of thrashing around in this crack with most of the cams in my rack I decide to hell with it, I should be able to find something a little higher up, so I move out. Five moves on easy terrain later I'm standing there still not seeing a viable cam placement when I get this weird feeling (something moved in my peripheral vision) so I call down to my belayer.
"What was that?"
"Uh..." *long pause* "Your last piece fell out."
"What?!!. F#CK! How run out am I??"
*even longer pause* "Uh...I don't know. A long way"
I immediately start overgripping and trying to remember what I'd placed two pieces ago, a shitty cam in a horizontal in crap rock that I'd quickly backed up with a better placement. A little quick math and I realize that if I somehow manage to pitch I'm going to rip that piece and deck from 60' up. Six months later I came to the conclusing that just standing around wasn't going to help anything and since there wasn't any pro within arm's reach I needed to move, so I make a move then freeze up again. Wash rinse repeat for another 15 feet before I spot The Prettiest #5 Camalot Placement Ever. Slugging that thing in and clipping it felt like Sweet Mercy itself descending from on high.
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JEleazarian
Trad climber
Fresno CA
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I held a 50-footer on Grack Marginal in 1972 with nothing between me and the leader. He was falling so slowly, though, that the third person in our party finally started yelling "You call that a fall?" Needless to say, not much strain on the belay.
Someone should ask Dale Bard about a couple of his early adventures. On the Dike Route on Pywiak, he got lost, ended up having the belayer tie two ropes together, and was soon 300 feet out with no pro. Then he pulled the rope out of the belayer's hands and finished as a free solo!
The other time, on the last pitch of Grack Right Side, Vern Clevenger threatened to use a belaying knife when Dale ran it out too far. Good stuff!
John
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spyork
Social climber
A prison of my own creation
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OK, this is probably nothing for all you tough guys, but here goes...
Nutjob and I talked ourselves into climbing Lucky Streaks on Fairview Dome. I took P1 and we alternated from there.
So now we get to P5 and the roof traverse. I lead out, get almost all the way across, and I sketch out. Nutjob is giving me advice, I'm not liking it but I can't see a way across. After a long time I give up and backtrack.
I decided to head up the 5.9 thin crack. Up I go, pro is a bit sketchy, but I make it to the big flake. I didn't pro the big flake, and didnt yard on it at all. I didnt like the sound of it. I had visions of it pulling, killing my partner and the party below.
I go up aways and I get level with this cave to my left, above me the thin crack becomes a seam. I place one last piece, stretch out as far as I can go, crimp something, do a foot hop and I got the right edge of the cave. I pull into the cave, then out the roof and up this 5.7 terrain.
Now looking back all I have is a small zero cam, and then lots of nothing and poor pro back down quite a aways. I was somewhat nervous/scared up to this point. Now I realized that I must not fall, and the fear evaporated. There was a flake above me, and I just worked the moves out and placed two cams and then down and left to the main crack.
I'm not really sure how far out I was. I wasnt sure if I was on the route correctly at the time. Nutjob wasnt real happy when he followed the pitch, as I recall.
I checked the Reid guide later and found out that I did follow the alternate route correctly. Wild stuff, at least for me.
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PP
Trad climber
SF,CA
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I was about 50 feet runout on the wrong water shute in the pinncales when a large group of hispanic hikers (10+) came into view and started yelling/singing spiderman songs to me. They definately added to the runout drama.
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Ferretlegger
Trad climber
san Jose, CA
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Back in 1971 I was guiding in the High Sierras for Charles Bell, the somewhat eccentric mountaineer who had made the first ascent of the Willis Wall. He had put together a small outfit in Berkeley taking kids from about 8 to 11 years old off into the Sierras for several weeks at a time, and teaching them to climb. Somehow I had been recruited to actually do most of the climbing and carrying.
On this particular trip, we had gone into the base of Mt. Whitney, and one day I had lead three 11 year old climbers up the East Buttress. We ripped up the thing in fine style and bivvied (intentionally) on top. Great fun. Several of them, Eric and Bill later became quite well known climbers in their own right.
A day or two later, we had a go at the East Face of Mt. Whitney. This time Charles Bell came along. There were the three 11 year olds, the young gun (me) and the grizzled old mountain man wandering around the face looking for the route. The East Face of Mt. Whitney is both big and somewhat obscure as far as route finding went, so we followed whatever weakness seemed to be going in the right direction and pretended that it corresponded to something in the "Route Description".
Eventually we found ourselves at the bottom of a bowl-like steep depression in the face. In the center of the depression was a huge finger of rock about 100' high. From the top of the finger, it appeared that a series of cracks lead out of the bowl and into easier ground and the summit. I started up the left side of the finger, with Charles belaying. It was fairly wide. and nothing I had with me would fit. Fortunatley, I was a wide crack fiend in those days, and didn't feel threatened. As I gained height, the crack widened to offwidth, and then to a squeeze chimney. I was happily squeezing along, with only about 10 feet to the top when I noticed that the finger, all 100' of it, was completely detached from the wall, and was rocking back and forth as I wiggled about between it and the main wall. Basically, it was a freestanding, balanced 100' domino. At this point, the 90 feet of air between me and the belayer, with no protection in, hit my mind like a lightning bolt. I was literally shaking with fear, but reasoned that if I could just climb a few feet higher, I could get an anchor into the cracks in the headwall and rap off. So I climbed the last few feet of the ever widening crack as the pillar rocked back and forth. By now, Charles and the lads had twigged to the danger of the entire pillar simply toppling off into space taking all of us to our deaths, and the howls from below did nothing to ease my mind. At last, I slithered onto the summit of the pinnacle and turned to put in the anchor. To my utter horror, there was NO CRACK!, merely a series of black water streaks. I was now marooned on a balanced, detached pillar that moved to my every motion, with 100' of empty air to the ledge below and no way up.
To say that I was terrified is nowhere near accurate. This was (and is) the most frightened I have ever been in my life. I KNEW that the only way off was to downclimb, but I felt that the probability of pushing the entire pillar off while getting back into the chimney was pretty high. My partners had done the same math, and since they had nowhere to go to escape, they knew they would share my fate. I sat there on the wretched finger for about three hours, while it swayed in the breeze. It was a truly seminal moment in my life, and much I have done since, such as long distance singlehanded ocean races has benefited from the perspectives I gained sitting there.
Finally, I eased myself over the edge and back into the chimney. Using every microcrystal I could find to keep from putting outward pressure on the flake, I oozed down the crack. After an eternity, I found myself back on the belay ledge, completely blown- physically, mentally, emotionally, psychologically, and spiritually. I was a total wreck. Fortunately Charles was an excellent routefinder, and took over the leading. Eventually, we reached the summit, and finally our high camp. I was never the same though. For 4 days, I was literally a zombie. I practically had to be led by the hand, while inside the great calculating machine dealt with the trauma. After a week or so, I regained my external appearances, but to this day, that confrontation with my inner self, my deepest fears, and the need to master them or die has shaped my life, and has probably saved that life on numerous occasions. When one has stared one's own mortality in the face like that, death has a different meaning for ever after. Rock climbers, ocean sailors, cancer patients, and other such people are not like normal folks. For my part, I have always thought that that experience has greatly enriched my life. Colors were always brighter, small things such as lichens or the smell of the bay trees in a shaded corner in Yosemite were richer, and more intense. It was, in many ways, a rebirth, with new insights into the meaning of things and a different set of priorities. Climbing is funny- one can set off for a pleasant day on the rocks with friends, and come back with an entirely new appreciation of life.
Michael Jefferson
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SMQ
climber
Grand Rapids, MI
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Sh!t, I got nothin' on Ferretlegger -- with my stones I'd probably still be gibbering to myself on top of that column -- but here's my own unworthy contribution to the thread:
After a stupid slip, solo with no pro in, I find myself hanging by just my left hand from the edge I'd been holding over a slight overhang. I'm only maybe 15 or 20 feet above the deck, but there's a bit of a sloped shelf about half-way down that sticks out far enough to make for a nasty bounce and a very awkward fall. I can get my right hand up to the edge and consider trying for the mantle, but I must not be scared *enough* -- even though people have died from less -- because I just can't find the strength to heave my 250+ over that lip.
After a couple hour-long minutes of debating the options I decide to try for a better-seeming stance to the right rather than attempt to jump and land cleanly. As I'm reaching for it my left grip gives out with no warning. Where some people say time slows and they get hyper-real senses, the only conscious thought I remember is: "did I let go?" Somehow, though, I manage to grab something loose with my right hand. It comes down with me and conks me a good one, but steadies and slows my fall enough that I land upright. I consider myself lucky to walk away with only a slightly twisted ankle and a whopper of a bruise on my arm...
...where the "loose" extension ladder hit me when I fell off the second-story roof onto the back deck. *g/d/r* ;-D
--SMQ
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Kalimon
Social climber
Ridgway, CO
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Nov 23, 2014 - 06:46pm PT
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Bump it.
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Gnome Ofthe Diabase
climber
Out Of Bed
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Dec 29, 2014 - 06:16am PT
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B . U . M . P . + . +
so.
meows from the banister says that the cat did it
but we have four cats ??
a bump tagg
Just ignore it.
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Gary
Social climber
Desolation Basin, Calif.
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Dec 30, 2014 - 07:33am PT
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Derek's story on page 1 is gripping.
I was at Tahquitz and had just led my first pitch ever, pitch 2 of Fingertip, the lie back pitch right before the traverse.
I'm anchored in at that bucket just hanging out waiting for RJ to come up. I look over to my left, and there's a guy on El Camino Real. He proceeds to pop off and take a good whipper, a rather loud whipper, too.
Then below me a guy pops into view. He must've been on Fingertrip? Anyway, he's pale as a ghost and not a happy camper. "How's it going?" I ask. "I'm lost," he says, "and 40 feet above my last pro." The desperation in his voice is pretty thick. "Would you like a bight of rope?"
About this time I start asking myself, wtf have I gotten myself into here?
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Reilly
Mountain climber
The Other Monrovia- CA
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Dec 30, 2014 - 08:14am PT
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wtf have I gotten myself into here?
Wait, you mean you didn't ask yerself that in the first place when you
decided to go climbing with RottingJohnny?
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Gary
Social climber
Desolation Basin, Calif.
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Dec 30, 2014 - 08:30am PT
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No, not THAT RJ.
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Vitaliy M.
Mountain climber
San Francisco
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Dec 30, 2014 - 10:21am PT
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Early in my leader career, and second time to Lover's Leap we ended up on East Wall. We'd just done Pop Bottle, and didn't really look at the guidebook too carefully before heading up. So there we are at the top of P1, a big sandy ledge, having no clue there the route is supposed to go. First I try the dihedral in the corner, no dice, crap for pro, lots of lichens, not it. I downclimb, scratch my head, and end up going straight up on the right.
After a couple non-reversible moves and not finding any worthwhile pro, there I am. I'm told there is some OK pro in there, but me being a noob leader, I sure didn't find it. I've lead at most 5.8 at this point, and did that in very poor style. I'm facing about 8' of liebacking with my feet on lichens, and my hands on a pretty rounded corner. Ugh. Pro is about 6' below my feet, and consists of a #6 nut sticking halfway out of a bottoming crack, and the rest will do nothing for ledgefall. Aw f*#k. Paste feet, pull on edge like my life depends on it, and start a walking. I had no clue if better stuff lie ahead, and didn't even know what I was going for, or how I was going to exit the lieback. After 8' I do a tricky exit out of the lieback, bellyflop, and pant.
Haha I remember that same spot and doing exactly that there and being really scared. It was after doing my first gear placements on knapsack and than going to Pop Bottle. lol
Most of the sketchy RO stuff I have done on FAs. It doesn't look too bad from below but than you get into it and can't place pro on climbing that is not trivial.
On the Sphinx there was a bit I didn't protect well for a while than placed a small semi ok cam and climbed up a ways up. Thought the crack above would hold good pro but it turned out to be flaring and I yanked the cam out of the same spot at least 3-4 times when testing it. I was in a shitty spot and my calves were getting pumped from trying over and over. The small cam was probably 40 ft below. So I placed that cam one more time in a direction I thought should work, but didn't test it because every time I tested the cam, it popped out! Than I went for the moves above, slipped on lichen and off I went. WOOOOOOOH like a 30 ft slide and the rope caught me! If that cam blew it wouldn't be as pretty. When I slid down, of course I saw the much easier way to get around the spot that took me like 5 minutes to commit to.
Another one was at the start of Castle Dome's SE arete, on a FA. I went a bit left and thought it would be a bit better but after about 25 ft I didn't find any pro past a small cam that I got into a flake. I was out with a newish climber, decking potential and on grainy balancy rock. Nothing to grab - smearing and stemming. Had to rock up onto my right foot and it felt really insecure from the stance I was in. The sun was on me and my fingers were sweating. Somehow I got over and placed some decent pro for the rest of the route. That got my attention.
Doing the evolution traverse car to car, tired me out and I was on the way to the top of the last peak in the dusk. Was supposed to be 4th class with some 5.4 boulder problem near the top. I saw a cool clean crack and took it. Ended up going into insecure fist jams with giant exposure on both sides and moves that were solid 5.8-9 - unroped. Than doing face climbing above the crack to get to easier terrain. I was pretty gripped there. The time of day, fatigue and exposure added to it. Maybe it wasn't as hard but I was already done for the day? Well I was happy to not fall.
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johntp
Trad climber
socal
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Dec 30, 2014 - 11:38am PT
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Lichen is not always liking. Did a seldom done route on Moro Rock. I blame EC Joe.
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Vitaliy M.
Mountain climber
San Francisco
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Dec 30, 2014 - 12:58pm PT
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Ooooh. Adding bolts to routes on Moro rock should be added to a list of things to do in 2015!
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jgill
Boulder climber
Colorado
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Dec 30, 2014 - 02:50pm PT
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McGregor Slab on Lumpy Ridge,RMNP (from 2008 post)
I remember climbing something called "McGregor" above a commercial campground on the highway into the Park from Estes Park. Is this the one? Not on Lumpy Ridge I didn't think. Maybe there are two such slabs.
Boy, I haven't thought of that slab in many years. In the early 1960s I decided to load up - for retreat if necessary - with a couple of pitons, hammer, and light rappel line and pick a (free) solo route up the center of the slab, never having been on it before.
It was exciting, and had me quivering a bit. Seems like there were a few small overhangs to negotiate, but I recall no further details. Nice rock, though!
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BillL
Trad climber
NM
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Dec 30, 2014 - 03:28pm PT
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It was my second trip to Tuolumne Meadows in about as many years, a week-long each. It was also one of my best-ever weeks of climbing / leading ... including good fun on My Favorite Things and Excellent Smithers. Nearing the last day, my sister and I had mostly finish off the book-guide routes in our desired range of difficulty / protection ... and were feeling quite accomplished.
"Let's look again at the ones I found on Mountain Project that weren't in the book guide." Back home before this trip, I'd found 3 or 4 such reasonable-difficulty routes and printed them with their comments out on both sides of about six sheets of paper.
Hmmm, here's one. It gets an 'R' and has a rating higher than any other 'R' we've led at Tuolumne ... and I really didn't like the last 'R' I led ... but we've been climbing well.
A "Tuolumne R" can be an "X" elsewhere. But is it really a Tuolumne R at the crux? On the back of the sheet are comments like "Plenty of pro" ... "bring a 4 inch cam for the crack in the buldge" ... etc.. So the next morning we start up with a heavier rack than normal. My sister gets the P1 lead and I get crux P2.
Long first pitch with difficult-for-us moves 15 or 20 feet above small gear. As I second, I'm hoping against reasonable hope that the second pitch is somehow not so hard. But it's not to be. First bolt at 20 feet after non-trivial moves for me - would have been an ugly pendulum fall onto the belay. After the bolt, I go scores of more feet while watching for the advertised second bolt, realizing I might climb right past it in this sea of knobs - and then I finally see it right in front of me at chest level. Good lord.
We make it up the route without a fall. And I'm certain the majority of pieces on our big rack were NEVER placed.
Back at camp, we're wondering how we got so misled about the route. I put all six sheets back together and realize the comments we'd been reading were for some 5.7 'G' route. Reviewing the comments for OUR route, one of the earliest comments is a tirade by someone claiming to have about "shat" themselves and that the route ought to have an 'X' rating!
Fueled by an end-of-the-day beer or two, the word that came to mind was hysterical: absolutely funny and absolutely scare-y at the same time.
Magical Mystery Tour; Tobin Sorensen and Mike Graham; July 1973
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Ksolem
Trad climber
Monrovia, California
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Dec 30, 2014 - 03:57pm PT
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We were at The Meadows. I think it was Grigsby who put me up to doing Miss Adventure. It's not a high grade, is 10+ about right? I think it was the second bolt on the first pitch, way run out with a cruxy move up to the drilling/clipping stance. It looked okay though. Get the thin rounded stance in my fingers, step up on a knob, the rest should fall together well enough.
I stepped up and latched the stance and casually stepped up on the knob. Cool. Then the knob broke. I dropped a foot or so and heard my belayer, a fine gal from New Zealand, let out something between a squeal and a scream and in a moment of mind over reality I held the lip. Collecting myself I saw that the knob was indeed gone, but the remaining feature was still usable and not going to break. Step up right, step left up onto the stance. Oh my God this is balancy. A cruel joke after I saved my ass once already. It’s amazing what you can pull off in a “full on must do” situation.
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Vitaliy M.
Mountain climber
San Francisco
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Dec 30, 2014 - 10:29pm PT
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Last two stories are quite good, thank you for sharing.
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Jaybro
Social climber
Wolf City, Wyoming
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Dec 30, 2014 - 10:39pm PT
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If you haven't run it out fifty feet on something that scares you.... Have you lived?
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snowhazed
Trad climber
Oaksterdam, CA
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Dec 30, 2014 - 10:45pm PT
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Heart of Stone, this year. Pitches 7, 8, and 9 in particular. Phenomenal experience.
The worst, in over my head experience was attempting snake dike for the first time. My partner and i left at noon, sprinted in, but I did not identify the start correctly because I barely even looked a ta topo. So eager to cast off I didn't think about it and headed up over a bulge expecting the terrain to ease.
Instead I find myself in blank friction territory, with no downclimb option, my belayer up on a ledge which was way off the ground I would have hit were I to pitch not anchored in.
All i could think was, "Man, I really did not plan on dying on f#cking Half Dome today."
I had one of the prouder leads of my life, nothing too hard, probably sustained 5.7-5.8 pure friction, but off into an expanse, not knowing if i was going anywhere useful. After 100 feet or so I hit an anchor, or a rap station of some kind and could then see that snake dike was 50 feet to my left. The traverse over was tenuous, but at least I had somethin! I rejoined in the 2nd or 3rd pitch of snake dike, then watched my partner peel ff on the traverse and pendulum huge. We finished the climb and ran on home, lucky to have gotten away with it all.
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mongrel
Trad climber
Truckee, CA
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Dec 30, 2014 - 11:09pm PT
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Ho, man, it is great to see this one wake up again. Ferretlegger gets Post of the Thread for the Whitney tale. Good to see North Carolina represented, though where is Stone Mtn.? Total runout Mecca, that place. Pileated woodpeckers, gorgeous in fall, not to be missed. Anyone who's never been to Looking Glass wouldn't know that all those little eyebrows you see in that photo are UPSIDE DOWN, flared, bottomed, and rounded. Not worth sheet for either climbing or pro.
My contribution comes from the west side of Hammer (Lo-Cal) Dome, across from Calaveras, mid 80s. We had no guide except that Harlin book with a photo and a line for Set the Controls. Some rumor that it was only 11a, well protected first pitch, a bit runout but only 10b for the second, then a 5.8 stroll for the third. What could go wrong? There's just the one line of bolts on the whole face, no way could we miss it. We arrive and find that there are at least three lines of bolts and since we didn't need the photo - only one route there - we hadn't brought the book. So I pick the right hand one of the routes up the best looking part of the face. I still have no idea what route it was. Trouble starts immediately when it is not the least bit well protected, and also way harder than expected, sketching from one 1/2-inch spot of 200-grit sandpaper to a single microcrystal to a pea-sized divot, with very dicey moves far above the bolt. But there are these super-promising little tiny black knobs visible here and there, albeit separated by long stretches of glassy rock. Still, there is always the promise that when you get to the next one, the terror will end, all will be well, and you'll cruise to the belay. Only the part about somehow getting to the belay actually happens. The bad part about making it up this pitch is that it creates total confidence that, though the 11a seemed awfully desperate, next up is only 10b, so it will surely be comparatively easy.
But it isn't. And it seems even way more runout, if that is possible! So much so that after two or maybe three bolts in 100 feet, I wander way off line and become marooned with a total of two or three fingers on a slippery little black knob, and feet on nothing at all. When you are about to fall on a steep route, the duration of anticipation is not very prolonged; you either work something out or (relatively) quickly pump out and fall. But when you become shipwrecked in an untenable spot on a slab, you can prolong the agony for ages, trying this or that, rejecting the idea of downclimbing because it is over 30 feet to the last bolt, with no reasonable stance above that, not to mention the impossibility of reversing moves you could hardly do going up. And the curse of having a hold is that, having found after many tries that there was no makeable move using it, you still cannot abandon your little island and put out to glassy sea again.
Inevitably, the last resort of trying to mantle the knob fails, because it is too small and slippery, and I am released to the joys of a 70+ foot buttslide down the slab. That part, at least, goes just fine. I've never been back, but that slab is high on my list of places I'm determined to return someday.
Edit to add: Somewhere on the taco is a thread about Burning Down the House on Fairview. I tried the search function but didn't find the one I remember. Killer narrative by shipoopi about an attempt or the FA or something. I only remember it was hilarious and a real sweaty-palms read. If someone can find and link that one, it should be here too.
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ß Î Ø T Ç H
Boulder climber
extraordinaire
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Dec 31, 2014 - 09:42pm PT
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Two words: Darrel Hensel.
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ec
climber
ca
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Apr 10, 2019 - 10:50am PT
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Ooooh. Adding bolts to routes on Moro rock should be added to a list of things to do in 2015! - Vitaliy
Lichen is not always liking. Did a seldom done route on Moro Rock. I blame EC Joe. - johntp
I woulda if I coulda on most all of the f.a.'s I did on Moro. Sometimes adequate hand-drilling stances are extremely limited on those big ground-up ascents; Pressure Sensitive, Moro Oro & Piece de Reniassance are good examples of being very run out. Looking back, I think that adding bolts would alter the challenge of routes like those (these routes had been repeated with the original hardware). However, by this date, those old bolts should be at least replaced. Moro has environmental conditions like over at Tollhouse where non-stainless hangers and bolts end-up corroding and breaking like potato chips.
On PdR, when I got to easier ground, it seemed like a moot point to even bother drilling after making thru the sh!t below. One of those pitches there was one token bolt mid-way out. We named the pitch, "This Bolt's for You."
I can see that the super-difficult stuff that more recently had been done on the west face could only been done by pre-placing bolts on rappel. I recall seeing that stuff out there, wow!
 ec
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tolman_paul
Trad climber
Anchorage, AK
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Apr 10, 2019 - 11:13am PT
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Most of my runout and treacherous fall routes resulted in my bailing. Times when I've been solid at grade, runouts aren't an issue. But when you're at your limit, totally different story. There also seems to be recurring theme for me of those bails being related to getting off route, or on a completely different route than I'd planned. Case in point:
I'm pretty sure this was a trifecta for me. Likely my very first lead, first time to the pinnacles, and the guide book I had was text only with descriptions such as "follow faint animal trails to the formation" I'd have to look at a guide book to figure out what I'd planned to climb vs. what I was climbing, needless to say I ended up at the wrong formation and started up a route well over my ability. I'd taught my partner how to belay and I think we'd been out toproping a few times before this trip. I do recall what I wanted to climb was a 5.7 or 5.8, and I ended up on a 5.9R which given the quality or lack thereof of Pinnacles rock, and rusty star drive bolts that were only ~20 years old and a questionable rusty pin at the time resulted in a level of commitment I wasn't ready for.
I arrived at the point of, man I don't see any more bolts above me, I'm gonna bail. The good thing is I was using twin ropes so I set up a rap with one rope and had my partner belay me as I worked my way down unclipping as I went.
We did figure out how to make it to the monolith and I did manage to top out on one of the easier routes, so still a successful first time at the pinnacles which resulted in many more trips over the years. Beat the heck out of selling my gear and figuring climbing wasn't for me.
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ec
climber
ca
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Apr 10, 2019 - 11:18am PT
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A 1st ascent account of a not-recommended route on Voodoo Dome, from Kris' Needles Guide: "There's a big open slab left of the White Punks alcove that tops out at a ledge about two pitches up. Near the right edge, I climbed up a short distance and placed a quarter-incher. The crux moves went left, then back right where I drilled a second quarter-incher. I do recall that it was a ground fall potential by the second stance, as I told Steve to hold the rope and run downhill if I pitched-off." - ec
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