Climbing

Well, it´s my last day here in Barcelona, and I wanted to write a quick post before leaving later this morning. I´m typing this up at a public computer of my hostel, which has been a lively place to stay four nights at. I feel a bit old for the daily-clubbing college scene here, but it´s a nice location with nice facilities. Katherine and I had a fantastic week in France and Spain, touring Nîmes and Carcassonne before making our way over the border to Barça. Today I´m meeting up with a friend (currently living in Spain) to go climbing in Margalef, one of the newer locations of Spain´s ridiculous hard-climbing scene. I´m really looking forward to it after not climbing for three weeks (an eternity for me!). And yes, there are apparently a host of moderates to entertain a non-sporto like myself.

Barcelona has been fantastic, it´s a big city with a rich history and a vitality I haven´t seen in any other city. I never really explored the nightlife since it´s not really my thing, but definitely did the beach thing (there are miles and miles of excellent beaches on either side of the city) as well as a ton of sightseeing, mostly with a focus on the Roman history in the area. More on this (hopefully) later.

But for now, I´m off to pull on pockets in Margalef. Venga!

Continued from part one

Tuesday: Royal Arches

After the long day Monday, we decide to stay in the valley. Royal Arches is on the list of climbs and is selected. It has a ten-minute approach, fifteen pitches of climbing, and an excellent position looking over the valley. While waiting in the parking lot for Matt, we witness a tourist almost back over his duffel bag with his enormous SUV, roll forward again, turn a bit, then proceed to drive fully over the bag. Unpleasant crunching sounds emanate and we wince from the other end of parking lot. Rough start to the day.

We have our own rough start as it takes us over a half hour to find the climb. (My bad!) Soon enough, though, we are squeezing up the first pitch’s 5.6 chimney. The route mostly consists of 30-70 foot sections of crack climbing followed by some 3rd/4th class scrambling. We spend several hours working our way up the wall, gaining height and an amazing view of the valley. By 7pm or so we’re out of water and at the top. Twelve rappels, one pulled rope with the knot still in it, and an impressive jimmy-rigged stick contraption get us back to the ground around 9:30. We’re all pretty wiped as we stumble back to Camp Four well after dark. (This would be a common theme…)

Wednesday: Go USA!

Both Matt J and I are huge soccer fans, so we agreed that we couldn’t miss the US-Algeria World Cup game. It is well worth seeing, as the US scores in dramatic fashion in the 92nd minute for the win and advancement out of the group stage. We spend the rest of the day sight-seeing and swimming in the Merced below the gaze of El Cap. It is an excellent rest day.

Glenn on South Crack, a stellar 5.8 on Stately Pleasure Dome

Thursday: Back to Tuolomne

We have a vague plan to go “dome-hopping” back in Tuolomne, and by 11am or so we’re at the base of Stately Pleasure Dome, racking up right off the road. We split into two parties again; Glenn and I choose the highly-rated South Crack while the Matts do West Country, a 5.7 on the main face.

The first two pitches contain some of the best crack climbing I have ever done, clean fingerlocks on impeccable rock. I place almost solely nuts on this section as it is perfectly suited for them. On the third pitch the route leaves the crack, sadly, to venture directly up with rather run-out 5.7 slab climbing. I lead each pitch, and enjoy every one (except maybe the last one, which is 5.2 or something). We meet the other lads at the top, take some pictures, and scramble back down to the car. Tenaya Lake reflects the sky and I take in my surroundings contentedly.

Next up is Lembert Dome, a couple miles’ drive away. This is another Dome practically right off the road, and we decide to do a two-pitch 5.6 called Northwest Books. The first pitch contains some interesting friction climbing, leading to a traverse below a roof and then a thought-provoking corner system. Unknowingly, I take the 5.9 variation (which is, realistically, the natural line) up the corner which is quite enjoyable. Glenn takes the next pitch of easy 5th class to the ridge. We scramble up to the summit and relish another phenomenal view of Tuolomne.

Friday: Half Dome

None of us were quite ready to spend a few days climbing El Cap, so we opt for the just-as-famous Half Dome. There is a 5.7 that sneaks up its South shoulder called Snake Dike. Half Dome is a difficult mountain to get to, and the approach involves a six mile hike, most of it on well-maintained hiking trails. Most of the time I don’t enjoy long approaches, but this is a very notable exception as we pass by two immense waterfalls. We take the aptly-named “Mist Trail,” and I scoff at the other hikers donning ponchos. After all, there’s hardly a cloud in the sky, right?

Looking North from the summit of Half Dome

Well, forty minutes later I’m at the top of Vernal Falls and drenched to the bone. The trail winds within a few hundred feet of the water, turning the surroundings into a permanent tropical rainforest. We snap some pics (one of an amusing sign) and continue on so we can warm up a bit. The trail continues up to the base of Liberty Cap (one of dozens of massive shields of Granite in the area), where we then leave it to get onto a climber’s trail which traverses below and around the Cap. Some bushwhacking and a heinous, loose scramble up slabs brings us to the base of the climb.

Snake Dike is renowned for being both really long and really run out. By this time, we had ample experience with both types of climbing, so the route itself is pretty much a cruise. Even 5.4 can be thought-provoking, however, when you’re 50 feet above your last bolt, but we try not to let it get to us and continue on and on over the 7-8 pitches. A final scramble leads us to the top, and the best panorama of the entire week (which is saying something!) It is a fitting final climb. The nine miles of hiking back to the Valley aren’t too brutal, and we again roll back into Camp Four after dusk.

Saturday: Bouldering

Matt and I rescheduled things so we could catch the next US game on Saturday, which turned out to be a bit of a bummer. Ghana beat us handily to eliminate us from the World Cup. The silver lining was that I was still in Yosemite! The rest of the lads were still beat from the day before, but I managed to sneak out for an hour to do some bouldering with our two very friendly British campmates. The sheer quantity and quality of boulder problems just above Camp Four was, again, staggering, and we only did a few before sputtering out. It had been a long week, and we were all hurting a bit. By 8pm the four of us were back in the car and headed back to Utah.

My photos

Matt J’s Photo Trip Report (excellent photos!)

I started climbing back in May 2007. I was 22, and had just moved to Utah to start a new, brighter, more outdoor-oriented life. I haven’t stopped since; in fact, the longest I went without climbing was the month in Nepal. I’ve probably consistently climbed 2-3 times a week for the past three years.

Thus, it was only a matter of time before I made The Pilgrimage. Yosemite Valley is the spiritual home of American climbing, where the first Stonemasters fashioned their own gear and made their way up the massive granite cliffs by whatever means necessary. I had heard and read so much about the Valley and surrounding climbing that a visit was inevitable.

Four of us packed into a Honda Element (a sweet ride!) to drive over the night of June 19. We diagonally bisected the utterly barren state of Nevada and were in California by dawn. Yosemite is split into two parts: the Valley, far and away the most touristy, populated, and spectacular area, and Tuolumne Meadows, a large expanse of alpine wilderness consisting of granite domes, peaks, lakes and streams. Both areas are beautiful in their own way, and we spent some time in each.

Sunday

We drive on the Yosemite highway through the valley in awe. Massive granite cliffs are everywhere. A large river to our left reflects the massive Sequoias and Douglas Firs towering towards the sky. We are all rather groggy but excited, and split up to look at wilderness permits and get a campsite at historic Camp 4. After an hour of waiting we get a site for the four of us. Glenn and I are psyched to climb so we gear up while the other two catch up on sleep. We walk over to some cliffs near the campsite and tackle a nice 5.7 in the shade, then toprope an adjacent 5.9 and .10a. Right around then I realized I wouldn’t be doing many challenging routes that week, not because of the difficulty of the climbing but rather my partners’ inexperience on granite. Oh well.

We take a nap, then all regroup to go for a drive and take pictures. As the sun is setting, we reach Glacier Point, on the other side of the valley. We take in a stunning view of Half Dome, the Toulumne alpine, and Yosemite Valley, then make our way back to camp.

Yosemite Valley. The granite cliff on the left is El Capitan, over 3,000 feet tall.

Monday

I must say, I was quite pleased with my partners’ willingnesss to get after it. We get up decently early, pack in the car, and make the hour plus drive up to Tuolomne. The objective is Cathedral Peak, a spiny mountain jutting out of the high alpine at 10,900 feet. There are several technical routes to the top, and we choose a 6-pitch 5.6 for the ascent. The approach is difficult — due to a series of late spring storms, the snow is still deep and all the suncups make for frustrating hiking. It takes us a couple hours to get to the base, where we promptly run into a party of four retreating from the route.

Huh? I think, then turn around and look at the sky. Storm clouds are brewing to the east. They don’t look too threatening, so we sack up, rack up and start climbing. The rock is impeccable, with fun cracks and low-angle friction climbing. We cruise up the first few pitches, including a fun, exposed, step-around 5.7 move four pitches up. The “crux” 5.7 crack is above, and proves fun and a bit spicy. (It’s funny how different partners can totally change your psych level. Sometimes I’m gung-ho about leading .10c trad yet at times scared of 5.7…)

There is discussion of retreat, and as the storm clouds billow higher and higher we realize we’re covered in metal trinkets attached to a granite lightning rod. Yet the storm still hasn’t moved any closer and we proceed. The last pitch is a relief, leading to an incredible view of Tuolumne from a pool-table sized summit. We don’t dally and expedite the rappels in hopes of descending before the weather starts getting hairy.

It never does. We get a sprinkle of hail on the hike out, but are delighted at the day’s accomplishment. I suggest a route with a shorter approach for the next day…

Continued…

Well, it’s been exactly two months. I can’t say I’ve been too busy to post, but this is what’s been going on in the life of Alec…

Sept 26: Adopt-A-Crag Day: Ferguson Canyon

The main event though, of course, was the day of cragging in the canyons. I had signed up for a clinic with a friend, and we happened to fall under the guidance of Cedar Wright, a professional climber known for his crack-climbing expertise. Nancy Feagin, another local under-the-radar badass climber, tagged along. Both guides were exceptionally helpful and modest the whole time, leading by example. We went to the Dihedrals area of Little Cottonwood and played around on some 5.9s and .10s. There I met Erik, a correspondent for Alpinist magazine on his way to moving to Boulder, who later posted this article about the event. It was pretty fun — I even took my first lead fall on my own gear later in the afternoon, just to scamper back up and finish off the climb without further mishap.

Nov. 07: Castleton Tower

Ever since I started climbing, I had heard of the otherworldly sandstone towers of Southeast Utah: hundreds of feet tall, solid rock, and amazing scenery. At last, I made the trip down to Moab to climb to climb the most famous one, Castleton.

I must say I was quite intimidated at the parking lot. The tower looms in plain view, seemingly vertical and unclimbable. However, around the back side of the tower was a series of stepped dihedrals and chimneys that looked easier and less exposed. This is where the Kor-Ingalls (5.9+ III) route lies.

As expected, we ran into several parties on the route, as early November is peak season for desert sandstone. The climbing went pretty quickly, though, and Brian made sure to stick me with the crux third pitch. I needed a few minutes to compose myself before setting off on lead, shimmying up the first section before wedging myself in a chimney to get some gear in. A large section of the crux pitch is unprotected, and only a very low bolt and two small cams protected the upper part, which I chose to stem. The stemming was technical but not too strenuous and I ran it out to the top, heart pounding. Exhilarating! Soon afterwards we were on the summit, about as wide as my house.

Photos

Nov. 13-15: Red Rocks

After reading so many great things about Red Rock Conservation Area, near Las Vegas, NV, I decided I needed to see for myself. Luckily, Brian’s trip was postponed to a later weekend and I was able to tag along. Brenton unfortunately had to drop out so it was just the two of us. We took off early Friday morning and drove through a snowstorm for about four hours down to Cedar City. By the time we passed through Arizona it was sunny and warm again, and soon enough we were passing through the City of Sin. We secured a campground (barely) and made our way to Red Rocks.

I was (am) nursing an injury to my IT band so I was hoping to limit the uphill hiking to keep the pain to a minimum. Thus, we chose to climb in First Creek Canyon the first day. We started on Black Magic, an excellent 5.8 on the Lotta Balls buttress. Brian led the first and third pitches, by far the best of the climb, while I gladly followed. For some reason my lead head was not in shape for the whole weekend, a shame since I ended up on the sharp end for eight or nine pitches! I can only chalk it up to not being familiar with sandstone, especially the textured sandstone of Red Rock. Breaking off a pebble on my first lead of the trip probably didn’t help, either..

Mount Wilson and Cloud Tower. The rightmost tower in the center has a 1000′ crack system on the right containing Crimson Chrysalis

The second day we got up at five to beat the crowds to Crimson Chrysalis, a nine-pitch 5.8+ in Juniper Canyon. The approach was arduous, and I was feeling the pain in my knee about an hour into the hike. By 8:30 we were climbing, psyched to be the first party on the route. The climbing was steep, continuous, and surprisingly moderate. I again had to psych myself up for the lead, even though it was only 5.8, and terrifyingly made my up to the next anchors. About half of the belays were hanging, a rarity on a 5.8!

Brian and I swapped leads for the rest of the day, clipping bolts and face climbing. I didn’t need to do more than a dozen or so jams the entire route — gotta love Red Rock! Around 1-2 we topped out on a glorious summit with magnificent views of the valley and Rainbow Wall, towering over us to the west. I’d say it was the best route I’ve ever climbed, and we didn’t see a soul all day on it!

The rest of the trip was pretty anti-climatic, we returned to Lotta Balls buttress the next day for another classic four pitches before making the long drive back to Salt Lake. I’ll be back this Spring!

Photos

Well, the Utah ice climbing season is unfortunately over. It was a very short season, and also my first “full” one anywhere. My first climb was January 4 in Little Cottonwood Canyon, and the last was a sketchfest last Sunday in North Creek Canyon. That’s about seven weeks worth of climbing, with an off week in there due to a January thaw. So really, six weeks worth of solid ice. Not much time for a weekend warrior like myself.

Oh well, I got after it pretty well during this time period:

• January 4: climbed the Great White Icicle, a classic WI3 halfway up Little Cottonwood Canyon, with Curt, who led the whole thing. A nice, easy introduction to the season. I would end up repeating the climb twice more by the end of the month.
• January 9: Drove down to Ouray, CO to attend the Ouray Ice Festival. I had a blast last year and, having company this time, it promised to be even better. Curt and I did a handful of routes Saturday, watched Josh Wharton kill it at the comp, then headed to one of the hot springs. Later we checked out the annual Ouray FD dinner, got some schwag, downed a few beers, saw Max Turgeon’s slideshow, then headed to the after-party. At one point Curt turned around to hand me a beer right when some dude was walking by, spilling it a little bit. We turned to look who it was:
  “Dude — Conrad Anker spilled my beer!”
  
  It was pretty funny. No hard feelings, Conrad, haha.
  
  The rest of the party and weekend was a blast. The next day, Josh taught my clinic, giving me some much-needed advice on my horrific ice technique. Amazing how far a little technique goes towards increasing your endurance…
• January 17: Headed down to Santaquin Canyon, just South of Provo, to check out the ice. Feeling confident from Ouray, I led the last pitch of Squash Head, my first lead ever! It wasn’t too scary, so Glenn and I did another route on the other side of the canyon.
• February 13: Drove up to Cody, WY for the Cody Ice Festival. The first day was pretty uneventful climbing-wise, but we checked out the Silent Auction/dinner/slideshow that evening, which was pretty fun. Dawn Glanc put on a pretty good show (and a ton of pull-ups!) and we retired early after a few beers. The next day we rose early to take a stab at High on Boulder, arguably the most classic climb in the area, and right at our level difficulty-wise. Curt took the first lead on the WI3 bulge, and I volunteered to lead the crux pitch, a WI4(+?) near-vertical 100ft curtain. Having never led anything harder than a WI3 before, this was probably a poor choice. But I felt confident, racked some screws, and got after it.
  Right around the 4th screw it steepened from 80° to vertical, and I started to get pretty pumped making a diagonal traverse to what seemed like easier ice. Putting the 5th screw in was a challenge for my jello-arms, but it was bomber and went in with a struggle. I yelled “take!”, hung on the screw (another first), and rested for a while, 2/3rds of the way up the curtain. Soon afterwards I started up again, and, having lost my nerve, ended up putting in a belay by that 5th screw so Curtis could lead to the top. He TRed/led the pitch in one continuous motion — I was impressed. It was a good learning experience on the best ice I’ve ever climbed, hands down.
• February 22: Curt and I drove 1.5 hours south of SLC to North Creek Canyon, where we had heard of a fantastic, multi-pitch WI4. Unfortunately, the weather was warm and the ice was sketchy so we made the choice to bail after the first two pitches. It looks like a stellar route though, so I’ll surely be back next season…

Not a bad amount of climbing for a short period of time: I had been hoping to get ten days in, but only got seven. The weather has been horrifically warm all over the west (67° today!?) so I don’t think Ouray’s ice park will even survive much longer. I’m afraid my favorite sport is on the front line of the impending climate war…

Funny how my last post focused on mountaineering in the cold and snow. Well, since my ascent of the Pfeifferhorn a few weeks ago I haven’t really been doing much mountaineering, mostly due to a (stupid) accident a couple weekends ago.

I’ve told this story dozens of times, and I don’t really want to tell it again, so I’ll give you all the short version: I was playing pong in the backyard with some friends when I saw a soccer ball above the garage of the apartment complex next door. There’s a small tree next to a fence that goes up and branches over the garage, making the roof pretty accessible. Well, I like to climb stuff (if you haven’t noticed), so I thought, sweet, an excuse to climb that tree (I had climbed the other tree in the backyard earlier in the day). So I retrieve the ball easily and am descending when the branch I am holding on to breaks at about five feet off the ground. I kind of jump backwards to stay on my feet and feel a sharp pain in my leg, then look down to see my thigh making a distinct imprint in the fence. I didn’t even think I had really hurt myself (that part of the fence was plastic and relatively soft) until I looked closer and saw my jeans in shreds. Weird, I thought, how’d that happen? Everyone was looking at me saying “you all right dude?” and I curtly responded “yeah it’s all good” while limping over to the house. Then I lifted a flap of denim from my tattered jeans and noticed a solid square inch of flesh missing from my thigh. Muscle and fat were clearly visible and a slow stream of blood was trickling out of the wound. Holy *@#%$#% ^%$#! (use your imagination) I exclaimed while my roommate gazed at it with incredulity.

I briefly considered going to the ER, but after recalling my last $800 visit there I decided to just bandage it up and go to a clinic on monday. I’ve been cleaning it, disinfecting it, and redressing it every morning since. I even took antibiotics for a couple of weeks after my first clinic visit. After two weeks it’s still pretty exposed but healing nicely.

The first week after that sucked. Bigtime. I couldn’t run, and chose not to climb for fear of exacerbating it. Only this past week did I start to climb again and I’ve gotten back into it with a vengeance, going out four times in the past six days. I’m starting to feel strong again; not quite back to where I was in February, but definitely getting there. My collarbone is a non-factor at this point (Ten weeks for a full recovery! Hell yeah).

I was down in St. George this weekend to cheer on a friend in his first triathlon. It was pretty fun overall; I really love Southern Utah, especially this time of year. It’s like Mars with some vegetation. The highlight for me was climbing at a nearby crag on some sweetly featured sandstone, a first for me. I felt strong and it was awesome.

This week will hopefully be more of the same. I still don’t feel like I can start running again but I’ll definitely be pushing myself on some stone. Sweet!