Yosemite Climbing: Into the Valley
October 30, 2009
Coming off of my first trad climbing trip just a few weeks earlier, Ben and I decided that we wanted to get another trip to Yosemite in while the weather was nice. In those three weeks, the temperatures up in Tuolumne had dropped into the 50’s and 60’s and the park service had closed the Tuolumne campground. So we set our sights on lower elevations and that meant Yosemite Valley.
Yosemite Valley is without a doubt one of the most well known natural landmarks in the world. Known by most tourists for the largest waterfalls in North America, the steep granite faces of El Capitan and the towering presence of Half Dome. While it’s quite obviously a destination for rock climbers, few know much about the history of climbing in Yosemite.
It’s not just a great place to go climbing, Yosemite Valley is and has been from almost the beginning of the sport the place to go climbing. Advancements and movements tend to emanate from epicenters where the best and the brightest get together. After World War II, Yosemite was the epicenter for the climbing community. It was here where the present climbing style and ethics were all born. The push to free climb routes instead of pulling on gear, innovations in rope management, the use of pitons to ascend harder routes, the rise of removable protection to avoid scaring the rock, the development of active protection and hundreds of other advancements.
Photo: Flickr/hoipolloi
Not only did all of this happen inside Yosemite Valley, it was confined to one place, a campground called Camp 4. Camp 4 is where the climbers lived and shared ideas, sometimes staying at the camp for months while working various projects in the valley. In fact, Camp 4 was so central to the climbing community that it was here that Yvon Chouinard invented and sold his high tech pitons that allowed climbers to ascend new routes, that company is now called Black Diamond. Chouinard also created a line of technical clothing under the familiar name Patagonia. This is just one story of what came out of the community of climbers in Camp 4. As a result, in 2003 Camp 4 was added to the national registry of historical places.
I’d stayed in Camp 4 before, but never as a climber and never for more than a couple nights. The campground has room for about 210 people and is the only walk-in campground left in the valley. Because of this, the sites there are extremely sought after. To maximize it’s usage, the park service puts six people in every site. This means that you’ll likely be sharing with some strangers. While some might not think much of that idea, it’s actually an extremely cool experience. It kind of forces you to hang around the campfire and hear what others have been up to and it’s a big part of what makes the tight knit community at Camp 4.
Because of the demand, Ben and I couldn’t get into the campground on our first night so we camped outside of the valley. The next morning we got up before the sun rose and got ourselves a place in line by the campground registration window around 7am. Because the window doesn’t open up until 8:30am, we got out our sleeping bags and took a little nap while we waited. There were a number of parties in front of us but we managed to get a site.
We unloaded some gear and headed out for a climb (more about the climbing in a later post). When we returned we got to meet our fellow campers. All four of them were from the east coast but two of them will forever be in my memory, Dustin and Katie. Dustin and Katie were in their early 20’s and decided to go on a mammoth road trip. They left at the end of August and didn’t plan on going home until the end of December. They had been climbing in Yosemite for the previous couple weeks and were very enjoyable to talk to. To me, the two of them were so iconic of the lifestyle of so many climbers in Camp 4, in touch with the things that mattered to them and willing to make sacrifices to make it happen.
When the weekend rolled around a couple of new campers rolled into our site. When Ben and I came back from our climb they were making themselves some dinner and asked if we’d be cool with some of their friends coming over to hang out. Naturally we were fine with this but we didn’t quite realize what we were agreeing to. About an hour later or so our campsite was filled with no less than 14 people in it. One of them started a campfire and by the time we finished our dinner it was getting dark and we all hung out around the fire.
A bit later in the night some of our neighbors even joined us and brought along their guitars. At this point we probably had almost 20 people huddled around the fire, singing, playing music and staying warm. A park ranger even stopped by and commented on the fact that our site was the place to be that night, it was a very cool experience.
As the night progressed we slowly realized that all the extra friends were intending to actually stay at our campsite. With a maximum of 6 people per site, 14 seemed like a pretty ridiculous stretch. We were pretty cool with it until the group tried to setup a 7th tent, that was just making it too damn obvious. So instead they crashed on their crash pads and in the vestibules of other tents. It was all quite humerus in a way, however around midnight I was really wanting some peace and quiet so I could get some sleep.
That’s the way things seem to go in Camp 4 and I was feeling very fortunate to be a part of it. I was wondering if I’d enjoy the climbing in the valley as much as I enjoyed it up in Tuolumne. While the trip didn’t quite end the way we hoped it would, I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t thoroughly enjoy it.
Tuolumne Climbing: Hermaphrodite Flake
October 28, 2009
Day 3: Hermaphrodite Flake (5.8) on Stately Pleasure Dome
It was a Saturday and not only had our own group grown from two to four, the number of other climbers had likely increased by roughly the same percentage. So we contemplated what we should climb. Trying to balance difficulty, quality, escape routes and climbing traffic, somehow we ended up choosing Hermaphrodite Flake.
The lower half of Hermaphrodite Flake is rated as a 5.4 with a lot of 3rd and 4th class climbing to get to the start (I’d say a solid 300′ of it). We thought this would give us some good opportunities to split up and do some top roping if we so desired. But the idea of that much unroped down climbing wasn’t appealing to anyone so we found ourselves somewhat committed before even getting tied in.
There were a couple groups ahead of us and being a party of four we decided to let one party of two start before us as well. So we had plenty of time to hang out and enjoy the view of Stately Pleasure running right down into Tenaya Lake. During that time we decided that I’d lead the first pitch, have Ben follow behind me trailing two ropes for Tyndall and Linda. Once Ben got to the belay we’d each take one of the ropes he was trailing and bring the others up.
The first pitch of the climb is what gives Hermaphrodite Flake its name. About half way up the pitch you’re confronted with three options to get around the flake. You can take the easy route walking along the topside, the moderate route by tunneling under the flake or get the most exposure along the bottom. Yes, you read that right, the flake is so large and separated from the main wall enough where you can climb underneath it. When you look at this huge rock that’s about 50′ wide and 110′ tall somehow clinging to the side of this dome you have to wonder how it is actually staying put. One would think that as you get closer up you’d be able to solve this mystery but as it turns out, the closer you get, the more mysterious it is!
I’d never seen anything that big that you could climb through the middle of so I was leaning towards taking the tunnel route. But we had two backpacks with us and we were worried about how difficult it could be with them on. So I was talked into leading the 5.4 layback route on the bottom of the flake. According to the topo, there was a 15′ section right at the bottom of the flake that couldn’t be protected. As the leader, I was kind of curious to see how that section was going to work. With a layback climb, you get purchase with your feet by applying an outward pull using your hands. But if there isn’t any room for protection, there wasn’t going to be any room for hands either.
Thankfully the climb flattens out enough where you can pretty much friction climb through this section and right in the middle of it I actually found a very nice hand hold along the bottom of the flake that might be able to fit a #1 or .75 cam, not sure. After this 15′ section the flake separates from the face again and the last 15′ feet up to the anchor is a real pleasure.
When I was getting up to the anchor (two bolts) the party that was above us decided that they had enough and were rappelling back down to the ground. This is all well and good but they were using my anchor so I couldn’t clip into it until they were finished. This wasn’t too big of a deal because I was comfortable clipped into a piton just to the left but it would have been nice to be able to share the anchor, at least enough so I could get myself clipped into it.
Looking Down at Hermaphrodite Flake
I brought up Ben and then Linda and Tyndall, all of them making the climb look very easy. Tyndall was excited to lead the next pitch and the rest of us were happy to let him go for it. The first 40′ is more layback climbing along the right side of the flake and then 150′ feet of 5.6 and 5.7 face climbing. The face section is bolted pretty well but could use a visit from the ASCA pretty badly.
I followed Tyndall up the pitch and trailed the two ropes for Ben and Linda. Ben had complained about how hard it was to trail the ropes on the last pitch and while I believed him, it was difficult to get a sense of it until it was my turn to do the same. What a workout that was. The ropes themselves don’t weigh all that much but the friction that the carabiners generate as well as the rope running over the rock is huge. By the time I got to the top, it was requiring a solid 40-50 pounds to pull the ropes up, thankfully I didn’t find the climbing itself very challenging.
For the last pitch we had another decision to make. We could continue straight up and make the route a 5.10b, traverse over to the left for 30′ along a 5.8R face section to an easy crack or rappel back down to the ground. The 5.10b route seemed a bit out of the question and rappelling when you’re one pitch from the top isn’t a ton of fun so the runout 5.8 section was the way to go.
The gold areas are slick as glass glacial polish, avoid.
Tyndall took a good look at it and was comfortable leading it so we let him go for two in a row. There was a healthy amount of glacial polish on the rock but it was fractured in enough places so there was actually a pretty healthy amount of foot holds. Tyndall had no issues getting over to the crack and throwing in some pro. At the top of the crack the topo said that there would be two bolts before a two bolt anchor.
Tyndall was getting close to running out of rope and could only find one of the two bolts and no anchor was in sight. The wind was picking up a bit so we couldn’t hear each other and because he was on the top, we couldn’t see him either. In these situations we use tugs on the rope to signal each other, but with all of the rope drag, we couldn’t actually feel them. So after about 10 minutes of no activity, we decided that Ben would put me on belay and although Tyndall probably had me on as well, I’d climb with the mentality of a leader. After about 15′ of the traverse it was obvious that Tyndall did have me on belay, but it was good to take the extra precaution.
Once we all got to the top we basked in the sun and our accomplishment. Almost 600′ of climbing in three pitches with a party of four and it took us under four hours, far from being speedy but not too bad either. It was also pretty cool to be 900′ above the the gorgeous Tenaya Lake. From this height we could almost see all the way from the Western side of Yosemite to the Eastern. You can even make out Half Dome in the distance. (Thanks for taking photos Linda :)
Tenaya Lake with Half Dome in the distance
With another day of spectacular climbing under our belt, we hiked down the backside of the dome back to the lake. We had one more day left in Tuolumne before heading back and we planned on getting another multi-pitch climb in on Medlicott Dome, Left but ended up getting horribly lost not once, or twice, but three times. We ended up at the base of Medlicott Dome, Right and did some sport climbs but were kind of bummed that our plans didn’t quite work out. But I guess that’s the way it goes, it will just have to wait for another trip.
The day after we got home Ben asked me if I was hooked on trad climbing. I was. So we decided to plan another trip a few weeks later to Yosemite Valley. That turned out to be quite an adventure so expect this series of posts to continue.
Tuolumne Climbing: Zee Tree
October 26, 2009
Day 2: Zee Tree (5.7) on Pywiack Dome
After the previous day of fairly intense climbing on West Crack, Ben and I were thinking that something a little bit easier might be nice. After tossing around some options we decided that Zee Tree looked like fun. The route is actually quite visible from highway 120 and Ben recalled seeing what he believed to be “zee tree” while passing many times. We were excited to be getting an earlier start than the day before and hoped to be the first ones on the route.
When we pulled into the trail head parking lot, it was nice to see it fairly empty. While we were getting our gear together another group pulled up with plans to climb Dike Route (5.9R) which starts in the same location as Zee Tree. They had done both routes before so we decided to follow them to the start of the route. However, along the way and quite unconsciously, we stopped following that group and continued walking along the southern edge of the dome to where we thought the route started.
From the road you can see this huge tree growing out of Pywiack Dome, many times larger than any other tree on the rock. With such a large tree we assumed that it was “the tree”, it simply had to be. So we climbed up the 3rd class slope and setup an anchor when it turned into fairly steep 4th class climbing. The previous day I discovered that I’m pretty comfortable with low angle climbing so I decided to lead the first pitch up to a pair of bolts.
I managed to place a few pieces of protection but after 200′ of climbing I ran out of rope and there were no bolts in sight. After a few minutes of searching around, I made myself secure so Ben could check the topo to see if he could figure out what the deal was. With only a glace at the beta, it was obvious that we were very far off from where we should be. This presented us with a little problem.
I was 200′ up a mystery route if it was a route at all and needed to get back to the ground. This gave us two options, Ben could climb up to where I was with another rope and we could find something to rappel off of or I could down climb the 200′ back to Ben. Given that the climbing was very easy, I was pretty comfortable down climbing. When I got back to the ground we packed up and headed back towards the road and the start of the real route.
During the hike back we laughed at how fixated we were on that big tree. It gave us such tunnel vision that we diverged from the group that actually knew where they were going. I’d love to know if I was on a known route but we joked about my first ascent. Our mistake ended up costing us a good amount of time and we found ourselves getting our real start at about the same time as the day before. So I declared the name of our mystery route “almost noon”.
The real Zee Tree route
Feeling somewhat confident that we were on the right track, I prepared to lead the first pitch again, hopefully finding the bolts this time. After about 100′ of climbing without a single piece of protection, I enthusiastically reported to Ben that I had found the bolts and that we were on the right path. Ben joined me at the anchor and prepared to lead the next pitch.
Zee Tree is a face climb and in Tuolumne face climbs usually translate into massive amounts of runout. Because there isn’t any crack systems in face climbing, these routes are usually protected with bolts but the first ascent parties tend to be a pretty brave bunch and only lightly bolt the routes. Amazingly the second pitch featured 9 bolts for 180′ of climbing, this is very heavily bolted by Tuolumne standards. The section between the first anchor and “the tree” featured climbing through 20′ or so of glacial polish. Thankfully the polish is broken up in a few places enough to get an edge for your feet.
For the third pitch it was my turn to take the lead again. This pitch was an easy 100′ section of 5.3 climbing that I pretty much ran up (almost literally). I think we managed to complete this pitch in less than 15 minutes which felt really great. Up to this point the entire climb had been bolted and we didn’t need our rack of trad gear but that would change on the next pitch.
For the fourth pitch there were a couple bolts leading up to a layback crack where some traditional pro could be placed. But instead of taking the entire rack we decided that Ben could simply take a few cams and the set of nuts. This would have worked out great except for one small problem, we thought there were bolts for an anchor. When Ben ran out of rope and discovered that there were no bolts in sight he had no option but to build a traditional anchor with the few nuts that he had left over. Thankfully he had enough and the climbing was so easy that there was very little chance of falling, but it was an excellent reminder that it’s a good idea for the leader to have all of the gear.
The final pitch was this very fun looking 5.7 layback crack. I was having so much fun on the route that without even hesitating I said that I’d love to lead the pitch. It didn’t even occur to me that I’d never been on the sharp end for a pitch this difficult or the fact that I didn’t have much experience with layback cracks. But I just went with it and it went off without a hitch leaving me feeling quite proud of myself.
Peace out from the top of Pywiack Dome
Compared to the day before where I followed Ben for the entire route, this day I managed to successfully lead 3 of the 5 pitches, what a fantastic feeling that was. The view from the top of Pywiack Dome was also an incredible one. Overlooking Tenaya Lake as well as all of Tuolumne Meadows was such a treat. After spending a solid half hour on top looking around and eating we rappelled back down to the ground. Back at the parking lot we hung out a bit before taking off.
Ben’s wife Linda as well as our friend Tyndall were heading up that afternoon to spend the next couple days climbing with us and we thought it would be fun to run into them alongside the road. After about an hour or so of chatting with tourists and hearing their various reactions to our chosen recreation, we headed back to camp and waited for them outside the campground entrance. With resupplies from Linda, the group of us relaxed at the campground and prepared for the next days adventure, Hermaphrodite Flake.
Tuolumne Climbing: West Crack
October 25, 2009
Day 1: West Crack (5.9) on Daff Dome
As excited as both of us were, we had some things to attend to before we could start climbing. Little things like, paying for our campground and getting enough cash to do so. Then there was the bigger thing of teaching me some trad climbing skills. As I mentioned in the last post, I started top roping last January and have been lead climbing since June but trad climbing was something that I hadn’t done before but was about to embark on. On top of that, I’d also never done any multi-pitch climbing so some quick lessons close to the ground were very much in need. We found a short 5.6 crack that I could get some practice on and right after placing my first piece of protection, I fell.
Talk about a humbling experience. How could I fall on something so easy? This question was so humbling that it really shook me up a bit and I wondered what I was getting myself into. This crack was 15′ high and about as easy as they come. I found myself looking up at the 800′ tall domes that surrounded me and all of a sudden the meadow didn’t feel quite so open anymore. Massive feelings of doubt washed over me as I questioned my climbing skills more than I did when I didn’t even have any. But I finished the “climb” and we packed up our gear and headed off to our actual destination for the day, Daff Dome.
Base of West Crack
We found the trail head and from the road we could actually see the route called West Crack that we were intending to climb. I looked up at this mountain of granite above me with this sliver of a crack running up it and couldn’t help but almost laugh. So I was pretty nervous but also incredibly motivated and really curious to know if I could do the climb. So we headed off to the base of the route with me mostly keeping my doubts and emotions to myself at this point. When we got to the base we found that there were two parties in front of us.
Having a bit of time to look at the route, I started to feel pretty anxious for the climb to begin. I wanted the feeling of some success to build up my confidence a bit more. When it was our turn to head up, Ben took the lead and made the pitch look pretty easy. Once he finished with the pitch it was my turn to climb up behind him, clean the protection that he had placed and join up with him at the belay. The length of the first pitch was 165′ and by the top of it I was breathing pretty damn heavily.
I distinctly remember two things while standing at that first belay station with Ben, the length of time it took me to put all of my weight the anchor (minutes) and Ben asking me if I wanted to keep going. This was a very good question of Ben to ask because after this point the climb gets pretty committing and if we continued on, there would be a lot of pressure to get to the top. I didn’t share with him the fact that I was questioning if I was cut out for this. Instead I replied with “you bet I want to keep going!” which yielded a response of “I knew you’d want to”. What Ben didn’t tell me was that his question was kind of a leading one and that he wasn’t sure if he wanted to continue. But my enthusiasm kept him going. So when you boil that down, the experienced guy was kind of motivated by the enthusiasm of the newbie who was questioning himself. What a pair of climbers we are :).
So Ben took off on the second pitch with me once again cleaning behind him. This pitch intimidated me because the guide book labeled sections of it as being off-width. Off-width climbing is not one of strongest skills but it actually wasn’t nearly as bad as I expected. The beginning of the pitch also featured a slightly overhanging section which was quite awkward with the backpack on. Thankfully there were huge jugs on the left hand side and while awkward, it wasn’t too difficult. Ben ended up loving the pitch and it was clear from the smile on his face that he was glad we kept on climbing. While I was happy to have completed almost 300 feet of climbing, what I saw ahead of me made me swallow pretty hard.
Third Pitch of West Crack
Looking up at our third pitch I saw nothing but and endlessly long (about 200′) finger crack. While it was an amazing and beautiful sight, I was having a hard time imagining myself being able to climb it cleanly. So when Ben asked me if I wanted to lead it, I laughed and said hell no. So Ben took off again and after about 40 feet of climbing he paused for a moment, looked down at me and said “it’s harder than it looks”.
Shit. Without even touching the rock I was thinking that it looked pretty hard and Ben’s telling me that my eyes are fooling me. Given the fact that Ben is a much better climber than I, the possibility of having to ascend the rope with prusik loops seemed almost like a certainty to me.
By the time Ben finished the pitch I managed to get the thoughts of failure out of my head and instead focused on taking it one step at a time. In reality I really didn’t have anything to fear because if I came off of the rock I’d only fall a few feet. But I was trying to put myself in the position of the leader and gauge if I’d be able to safely lead the pitch. My conclusion? Nope. While I didn’t fall, I wasn’t comfortable enough physically or mentally to have pulled it off. When I reached Ben I congratulated him on a superb lead.
We hung out at the third belay station for a good while. There was a great ledge that I took a seat on and finally had a moment to absorb my surroundings. Up until that point I was so fixated on doing the work that there was no space left for observation. Ben once again asked if I wanted to lead the final pitch and once again I declined. While the climbing looked easy, my mind was not in the right place to be on the sharp end.
While the climbing on the last pitch was easy, there were few places for protection. I think over the last 200′ of climbing Ben was able to place maybe 4 or 5 pieces with sections of at least 50′ of runout. But we both reached the top without any incident leaving me exceptionally relieved. Great sections of the climb were kind of a blur to me, overshadowed by the questions running through my head. But I had answers to some of the questions, answers I was very satisfied with. I was able to do the moves, stay safe, not get freaked out and finish the climb (a hard one at that).
There were still many questions left in my head but the next two days of climbing would continue to answer more of them. Next up, Zee Tree (5.7) on Pywiack Dome.
Looking towards Hetch Hetchy from the top of Daff Dome
Tuolumne Climbing: Preface to My First Trip
October 24, 2009
You know you’ve had a good summer when the adventures have been so huge and so tightly packed that there wasn’t time to share the details in a timely fashion. Climbing has been the recreational focus for me this summer and has made for one of the most adventure packed, enjoyable and interesting summers I’ve ever had. Last winter I picked up the Tuolumne Free Climbs book on a whim and kind of jokingly set a goal to do some of them by the end of the summer. Well last September that joke turned into a reality when my buddy Ben and I decided to go on a four day climbing trip to Tuolumne Meadows.
This climbing adventure was so monumental for me that it’s hard to find words that I’m satisfied with, perhaps a photo will help.
300º view from the top of Pywiack Dome
Nope, that doesn’t quite do it either. Everything is just too damn big. To get a slightly better sense of things, click the above photo to see the original. Even though it would take two 30″ displays to view the entire photo at once, it still doesn’t do the scene any justice. Not only were the views on this trip huge, the experience as a whole was huge and one that I couldn’t even imagine doing just a year ago.
In fact, it’s too big for one blog post. So as a warm-up I’ll give a bit of an overview of the area as well as some of my thoughts going into the trip. Then I’ll throw up a separate post for each of the three big routes that we climbed (West Crack, Zee Tree and Hermaphrodite Flake).
Tuolumne Geology
Tuolumne Meadows is located in the northern half of Yosemite National Park and is accessible during the non-winter months via Highway 120. Through these meadows flows the Tuolumne River which carved out Hetch Hetchy valley over millions of years and presently fills the Hetch Hetchy Reservoir providing water and electricity for San Francisco and surrounding area residents. While there is great sadness downstream, the Tuolumne area is breathtakingly beautiful. Situated at 8600 feet above sea level, the meadow is surprisingly large and surrounded by dozens of domes, peaks, spires, lakes, and valleys.
While the main attraction in Yosemite Valley is naturally the valley itself along with the waterfalls, Tuolumne is a bit more subtle in its beauty. For its elevation and surrounding peaks, the meadow is very large. Rising up around the edges are these wonderfully smooth looking domes of granite upwards of 1000 feet tall.
Around the time of the dinosaurs, what is now the Sierra Nevada mountains was deep underground and in the form of magma. But plate tectonics started to force the area upwards and very slowly, under huge amounts of pressure from the rock overhead, that magma cooled and turned into various types of granite. Over the next 150 million years or so, the tens of thousands of feet of rock above the granite were pushed upward and eroded, creating the fertile central valley. Around 4 million years ago the area started to undergo massive tilting and the range that we see today was pushed upward.
As the rock above the granite eroded, pressure was reduced on the magma and it started to expand upward to form domes of solid granite without any layers. As it expanded it formed joints along the curve of the dome, making each dome similar in structure to an onion. As glaciers moved into the area, the lack of vertical and horizontal joints in the domes made them quite resilient to glacial plucking (pulling out large chunks of rock). Instead the glaciers ran across the domes, slowly sanding them down and creating what is known as glacial polish.
This glacial polish is easily seen today when viewing one of these domes up close. It isn’t too hard to find rock that has been polished as smooth as a granite counter top and reflecting the sun like a mirror. You can also see long tiny lines in the polish, these lines indicate the direction that the glacier was traveling over the rock. I find comfort in this humbling knowledge. To think that water and ice could remove so much material in just 4 million years puts the earth’s 4.5 billion year history into greater perspective.
Such beauty is more than this climber can ask for. The challenges and variety of climbing that the area offers makes the views from the top sweeter than I could have imagined. Being able get far above the tourists and see just how rolling the domes are, how huge the meadow is and how things flow into one another is addictive enough all by itself.
Thoughts Before the Trip
I’d been climbing for 10 months before embarking on this trip, lead climbing in the gym for 4 and a handful of sport routes outside. While I’ve put a lot of time and energy into climbing and made fast progress, in Yosemite terms, I’m far from an experienced climber. In fact, looking back on things, the set of things I didn’t know was larger than the set of things that I did.
But Ben is a fantastic climber, extremely great guy and a good teacher. So while this trip had a bunch of firsts for me, I had a lot of confidence that I’d get the instruction that I needed. Even still, I was nervous and for good reason. In trad climbing the leader places protection (nuts, cams, etc) into the rock as they go and the follower removes them. All new to me.
On top of that, I’d never done any multi-pitch climbing either. We were looking at doing climbs that were 700 feet tall and I wasn’t sure how I’d react both physically and mentally to that. To quote comedian Steven Wright, “I’m not afraid of heights, I’m afraid of widths”. While that’s a joke, it’s actually pretty damn accurate for a lot of people. Being high isn’t the problem, it’s the contrast between high and low and when you’re hanging off of the rock in the middle of a climb you’re a part of that contrast. The fear of looking down at the air below you and the intimidation of what you have left to climb.
But I was excited and highly motivated. For years I’d looked at rock faces and thought about how amazing it would be to climb it without ever believing that it would actually be possible for me. It seemed like my dream could actually be coming true and what scared me the most was walking away from the trip having failed to achieve it. Being forced to look at future faces without the ignorant bliss of no data but with nagging memories. I find that I’m somewhat prone to negative stigmas and I didn’t want one surrounding such beautiful structures.
Given that I already mentioned the three big climbs that we did, you can guess that I didn’t walk away with any negative stigmas from the trip. In fact, it was one of those trips that continued on in my mind, constantly getting better, long after we returned.
Climbing The Bear
September 7, 2009
The climbing adventure this weekend was to The Bear on Mount St. Helena near Calistoga California. The first climbing I ever did was actually just down the (fire) road from The Bear on a formation called The Bubble, so it was kind of nice to return to the area with some sharper skills. I went with a small group of climbers from the gym which made for a nice and relaxing day on the wall.
View From The Bear on Mount St. Helena
At 4,342 feet, Mount St. Helena is the tallest point in Napa County and marks the intersection of Napa County, Sonoma County and Lake County. It also happens to be the site where Robert Louis Stevenson spent his honeymoon writing The Silverado Squatters. The mountain itself is roughly a 2.4 million year old volcano that had it’s origins a bit further north by Clear Lake. I found the rock at The Bear to be quite beautiful with streaks of reds and black mixed in with earthy browns. It also had some of the largest crystal structures I’ve seen in rock and am now wishing that I took some photos of them.
The guide book for the area (Rock Climbing the San Francisco Bay Area) is a bit out of date in that there are some new routes and bolts that change things up a bit. There is also a much easier climbers trail that leads to the wall than what is described in the book. The book describes a trail on the left hand side of the fire road marked by a 16′ pine tree on the right side of the road. This trail is easy to find and can be scrambled up with some effort but it’s much easier to continue walking up the fire road for a couple hundred more paces. You’ll reach a break in the pine trees where there is only shrubs and a very distinctive trail off to the left, use that one.
There is roughly 20 routes setup on The Bear that range in difficulty from a 5.9 crack to a couple 5.12b’s. There is even a few of routes that are a couple pitches tall. Pretty much all of the climbs have a steady and slightly deceptive overhang to them and I was surprised how pumpy I felt at the top of a couple of them. The first route we setup was Jeckyl & Hyde (5.10b). This route used to be runout by sharing the same anchors as Rampage but now has its own set that has removed the runout. The route has plenty of very solid hands and feet but I found some of them to be kind of elusive at first.
We also setup a rope on Rampage (5.10c) and had a report that a new line had been established just left of the bolt line that was a 5.10b but the rating on that climb might be a bit off. I intended to give this route a go but instead found myself with a very strong desire to try the next route to the right and with a name like The Beast (5.11b) how can you blame me. The bottom section of this climb is fairly straightforward. It features some great underclings and generally easy 10c moves. The fun starts to kick in between the second and third bolt.
I decided to tackle the problem by continuing to climb straight up after the second bolt and then traverse to the right over to the third bolt. I didn’t make the moves cleanly but it felt like a solid enough sequence for me. After this point I found myself resorting to a series of layback moves alternating between the left and the right. The sequence was really quite fun and while I managed to make it through all of the moves, it took a few tries and a good amount of problem solving. I’m anxious to try it another day.
After a little break and a quick snack Tyndall asked if I wanted to try leading Mark’s Moderate (5.10a R). The climb is described as a chimney and while a couple moves fit that description, I found that the majority of it was stemming. The climb through the first half is quite solid with fairly obvious moves. However, around the top of the climb the crack starts to narrow and you have to move onto the face a bit. Because of the runout in the top section I decided to do a slightly shorter traverse over to the anchors for Black Hole Sun and setup a top rope from there. Maybe it was just the rush of onsighting the climb but I found it to be kind of fun.
So now we had a rope setup for Black Hole Sun (5.10d) which happens to be rated as one of the best climbs in the area, naturally we had to try it. Up to the first bolt it shares the same section of rock as Mark’s Moderate but then traverses a bit over to the right. Because of this the route features a number of different climbing techniques. You’ve got some chimney/stemming in the beginning, a short traverse to some larger pockets and a sections of overhanging rock as well. On the top side of the overhang I even found some very handy heel hooks that allowed me to recover from a couple moments of hanging by one arm. So when I reached the anchors with my third onsight for the day I was feeling pretty pleased.
We left the mountain just as the sun was starting to set and I think all of us would be happy to return for more fun in the future. There is still a bunch of climbs that look like fun and I’m feeling pretty determined to get a redpoint on The Beast. Add in the fantastic shade that the entire wall gets after 2pm and it gets pretty easy to spend a bunch of time climbing The Bear.
My Primordial Climbs at Pinnacles
August 23, 2009
Yesterday was my first adventure to Pinnacles National Monument and it won’t be my last. Earlier in the week a friend of mine from the climbing gym, Ben, and I started making plans to do some climbing over the weekend. Ben had been to Pinnacles a couple times before and suggested that we make it our destination. After hearing that it was full of climbs that fit my style (slightly slabby, thin and requiring balance) I was very excited to check it out.
Photo: Flickr/seangloster
Pinnacles is located about 120 miles south of San Francisco and is the location of the northern half of a 23 million year old volcano. The San Andreas fault once ran directly underneath the volcano and is responsible for tearing the volcano into two. The southern half has stayed put near Lancaster California while the northern half has slowly traveled 195 miles north. The rock at Pinnacles is mostly rhyolite in a breccia formation.
Rhyolite is a type of igneous rock that has some similarities to granite but tends to be rather explosive during an eruption. Breccia is most easily thought of as a natural forming cement, essentially it’s ash and other rocks bonded together with lava. The lava and ash seem to erode faster than the rock chunks which leaves them sticking out of the side of the sheer faces. On top of that, when rhyolite cools quickly it can form rock with a glassy texture. To a climber this makes for an extremely interesting climbing experience.
At first I found the climbing at Pinnacles a little unnerving. Falling rock is not a possibility, it’s a guarantee. Frequently there are plentiful amounts of hand and foot holds but it takes a bit of time to trust them because they simply look like pieces of gravel sitting on top of the rock. But in reality they are (frequently but not always) cemented into the rock and extremely solid. However, many times the holds can be quite glassy and thus very slippery. The hand holds are also frequently at odd angles with sharp edges that make them a little painful sometimes and completely unlike anything you’ll find in a gym. All of this is what makes it fun.
With over 900 climbs in the park there is not much risk of getting bored. Ben and I decided to spend our time on the Discovery Wall which boasts 50 climbs all by itself. We got to the wall, opened up our guide book and decided that we’d warm up on a climb called Protent (5.6) which is regarded as one of the best climbs in the area. The beta for this climb said that you could do it in three short pitches or one long pitch but we decided that we’d do it in two pitches. Ben was on lead and I was going to second him and clean on the way up. He placed one cam and then used three fixed bolts but oddly couldn’t see any more bolts up ahead. Much to our surprise, he ended up topping out the route with the last 40 feet of it being all runout. So we decided that I’d lower him down, I’d do the climb, clean the route and then rappel back to the ground.
Only one problem. As I lowered Ben back to the ground we almost ran out of rope. I had to climb up a few feet so there was enough slack for him to get off belay. Given how easy the climb was, this wasn’t a big deal at all but we were thankful that we had a knot at the end of the rope so it wouldn’t slip through the belay device. So I then cleaned the climb, set the rope up to rappel down and started my rappel. About 20′ from the bottom I noticed that I didn’t have the middle of the rope at the top of the climb which meant that I couldn’t make it all the way to the ground. Oops. Thankfully I had tied a backup prussic loop onto the rope before I started the rappel which allowed me to self belay myself back up the climb and then walk off the back of the cliff.
So our first climb of the day didn’t go very smoothly but that happens once you leave the gym. For our second climb we decided to give The Wet Kiss (5.9) a try. This climb was suppose to be an 80′ climb but after 50′ or so Ben reached the chains at the top, we both thought that was a little odd but at least this climb went smoothly.
Continuing our warm-up we decided to knock of another classic climb called Stupendous Man (5.10a). Ben lead the climb and made it look beautiful so I decided that we’d pull the rope and I’d lead it as well. It’s really a one move wonder that involves a fantastic mantle over a small ledge, blissful once completed. Feeling pretty good we decided to bump it up a little bit.
Thirty feet to our left was a climb called Pistol Whipped (5.10d R). This climb consisted of three bolts, the first one about 20′ off the ground and required two cams up top. Sequence and concentration was the key to this climb. Ben didn’t have too much trouble getting through the moves and placing the cams. So we pulled the rope and it was my turn to try it on lead. Getting to the first clip is solid but a head trip and something that shouldn’t be tried if the climb is at your limit. The crux is above the third bolt and we solved it by moving slightly to the left and grabbing the small ledge above with a slight dyno move. But for me the drama happened right at the end of the climb.
I was within five feet of the anchor at the top and was delighted to inform Ben of this accomplishment. I high stepped with my right foot and was a simple mantle move away from finishing the climb when my right foot slipped and sent me falling. My last clip was on a red cam about five feet below me and with slack and rope stretch I ended up falling about 20′. This was the first fall I’d taken on lead outside as well as my first fall on trad gear. Thankfully Ben is good at placing gear and I ended up finishing the climb without any injury and a smile on my face.
While we sat down for a little break and grabbed some food we started thinking about how wrong the first two climbs felt. So we examined the guide book and discovered that we were in fact on the wrong routes. Turns out our first climb wasn’t Protent, it was Plague (5.10a R) and our second climb wasn’t The Wet Kiss, it was Ordeal (5.8). I found the names of the climbs that we actually did to be a bit ironic but it was soothing to figure out what was going on.
We rounded out the day with an easy but interesting chimney called Cleft (5.6), The Verdict (5.11a) and Lithium (5.11b). Ben successfully lead both the 11 climbs but they were a bit above my comfort level on lead outdoors so I tackled them on a top rope. I found the start on The Verdict to be especially fun and Lithium has been added to my project list to lead.
So it truly was a fantastic day of climbing and one with a lot of good safety reminders. Here’s what I took away from the day:
- Climbing outside is not climbing in a gym, there are inconsistencies, unexpected events and things that go wrong. Plan for it to happen.
- Different rock requires different techniques, give yourself time to get accustomed
- Always tie knots at the end of the rope when belaying and rappelling
- Always use a backup knot when rappelling
- Stay focused until the climber is on the ground
- Carefully study your guide books (but don’t assume they are right)
- Climb with a person that you trust
Taking Healthy Risks
August 9, 2009
In a population that has an endless thirst for safety mechanisms and cleansers, does the phrase “healthy risk” turn into an oxymoron? I’m pretty comfortable with taking risks (some aren’t even healthy) and even I don’t consciously decide to take too many healthy ones. We all unconsciously take them just like we all unconsciously eat healthy food on occasion. But few of us consciously have a lifestyle of taking healthy risks just like few of us consciously have a lifestyle of eating healthy.
When I started thinking about writing this post I decided to do a quick search and see what others out there had to say about taking healthy risks. So I started out with a simple Google search of “healthy risks” and laughed at the irony when it asked if I meant “health risks”. For me, a healthy risk has nothing to do directly with putting my health at risk. In fact, I can’t think of a single healthy risk that didn’t improve my health, even the risks that didn’t pan out. Perhaps I’ve been lucky or maybe the things that I’ve done aren’t that risky or perhaps I’ve just been good at mitigating that risk, I’m honestly not sure and that uncertainty makes me question what the definition of a healthy risk is.
It’s kind of a hard thing to define, even the internet doesn’t seem to provide a quick definition. I can think of tons of examples of things that I consider healthy risks, but what I find risky might be mundane to someone else, so examples really don’t provide much of a definition either. So after a bit of thinking here’s what I’ve come up with: A healthy risk is doing something outside your comfort zone where the positive outcome is something that you desire and the negative outcome can eventually be recovered from. A part of me wants to also add that a risk could be healthy if the negative outcome is unlikely, but would that still make it a risk?
Now that I’ve got a definition, I can actually start to seek out healthy risks to take instead of stumbling across them. The only question left in my mind is, how many should I take? Like everything else that we consume, there has to be an upper bound where above that a good thing turns bad. Perhaps the need to step outside of what’s comfortable helps to make it a self regulating system, I’m not sure. But I think to start with I’m just going to jump at the ones that present themselves to me and see where it takes me. Maybe I’ll come to find out that I already had the appropriate amount in my diet.
Feeling Like a Kid
July 12, 2009
While I endlessly enjoy being an adult, there are some things that I naturally miss about being a kid. Not really having a care outside of what I was playing with at the time, no bills and creativity that was uninhibited by social concerns are just a few. While those are difficult traits to have as adult, I know of one sure fire way to feel like a kid again.
Solve some really hard problems. So much of what kids do is problem solving and it’s easy to see and hear their excitement when they find a solution. That’s a reproducible feeling but it gets a bit more challenging as I get older because I’ve solved a bunch of problems already and the ones that are left (which are many) tend to be a bit more complex. No longer is making a stack of blocks an accomplishment, so the trick is to seek out and find equally challenging problems, adjusted for age inflation.
Last Thanksgiving I started working on what is now the foundation for my startup. At the time this was a project unlike any I’d ever started, I didn’t even know if it was possible to accomplish what I was setting out to do. If it was technically possible, I wasn’t sure if I had the mental goods to pull it off. Thankfully I’ve still got some hubris in me and I wasn’t going to let worries of what reality might be get in the way of finding out what reality really is.
I use the word hubris cautiously because it has a pretty negative connotation. Its definition usually includes other wonderful words like arrogance and overconfidence. These are characteristics that most people wouldn’t want to have applied to their general self but I’m wondering if they can be useful to your problem solving self, perhaps even necessary.
Arrogance – having an exaggerated sense of one’s own importance or abilities
Overconfidence – excessively confident: mistakes were made through being overconfident
Are these really bad characteristics for problem solving? I don’t think so. Hard problems are relative to the individual and all hard problems tend to crush ones confidence at points. So an exaggerated sense of what one can accomplish could be helpful in getting over self imposed barriers. As for making mistakes, they should be embraced, not feared. They teach you what doesn’t work, which leaves your mind free to try a new path that is more likely to succeed.
I think not knowing the path from A to B is what ties problem solving to feeling young. I like to think of each experience in my life as forming a little path in my brain. The more I travel down the same path the more defined and worn in that path gets. Travel a path enough and it turns into a rut. Seems like our brain can pretty much be on cruse control when going down these defined paths.
Don’t get me wrong, very well worn paths are useful things. Without them performing complex tasks like playing a musical instrument would be impossible. But simply following those paths doesn’t really stimulate your brain in the same way. Getting out in the wilderness and doing some bushwhacking, that’s the kind of activity that your brain did all the time as a kid. This is why you never hear a kid complaining that they are stuck in a rut, there is just so much to be explored.
As I say goodbye to my 20’s, it’s not really an accident that I’m trying to lay down a bunch of new paths in my brain and the good news is that it’s working. The feelings that I’ve had while working on my startup have been nothing short of childhood bliss. There has been more than one occasion where I was so excited after solving a problem that I ran out of my house in the middle of the night in uncontrollable laughter.
So the next time you’re wishing for some of your youth back, find yourself a hard problem, have a bit of hubris and start working on it. If it’s a sufficiently hard problem it will take a while to solve it, but in the meantime at least you’ll be distracted from getting older. While it’s not as quick as going out and buying a fast car or something like that, I will guarantee that the results will feel better, make you smarter and be a lot cheaper.
Respones to being Called Boss
July 9, 2009
Before going on a hike today (self employment rocks), I stopped by Jamba Juice for something to tie me over until lunch later in the afternoon. The Jamba employee (or Jambalee for short) was a rather chipper young man who called himself Jimmy. There was one person in front of me and as this customer gave Jimmy his money, Jimmy replied with “thanks boss”. Immediately I was dreading Jimmy taking my order.
Sure enough, Jimmy called me boss when I gave him my money as well. In fact, he called everyone boss and multiple times at that. “Blackberry Bliss for Carla… Here ya go boss”. While annoying, it isn’t the lack of creativity that Jimmy had when addressing people that bothered me. It’s the use of the word alone that I have a problem with and here’s why.
First off it’s simply an incorrect usage of a word for the given context. Some may claim that its usage in this case is considered slang but I’m not buying it. Besides, boss is already slang for excellent or cool. Nope, when used as a title for another individual boss only has one meaning and it’s to denote that the person is your superior. Not only am I not in charge of Jimmy, I don’t want to be in charge of Jimmy.
Second, essentially when someone calls me boss they are insulting themselves. Why would someone voluntarily do this? I can’t imagine that a person feels empowered after using the phrase. If every random person that you serve is your boss, how much control can you have over your life? Are they trying to boost my ego by making me feel like I’m important? While I suppose some would appreciate that, I just can’t see the masses of service workers so willing to help out the egos of their customers. I worked in a service job when I was in high school and it takes enough energy just to maintain your own ego while wearing one of those uniforms that there isn’t anything left to give. Something isn’t adding up here.
I love sarcasm, so it shouldn’t be surprising that I feel like this usage of boss is actually a sarcastic remark. I’m not convinced that everyone that’s using it intends for it to be sarcastic because lets face it, pop culture tends to be a bit of an echo chamber (in fact, I wonder if an echo chamber is a requirement for pop culture, but that’s a different topic…). If I’m right about this, then calling someone boss is actually a backhanded complement. Thanks Jimmy.
The difficult thing with backhanded complements is that they are often hard to reply to. Treating it like it was a genuine complement only feeds into the desires of the person who gave it. Replying with a backhanded complement of your own is a natural and somewhat satisfying reaction but that puts you on their level. So what’s a good response to being called boss?
A part of me wants to treat their usage very literally by replying to the statement “thanks boss” with “you’re welcome subordinate”. This is what I’ll call the Dwight Schrute response. Somehow I don’t think people would enjoy hearing that all too often and they may think twice about using the phrase.
To stay on The Office theme, Angela Martin would take the direct approach and reply with something along the lines of “I’m the boss of my cats, you’re not good enough to be one of my cats, so stop calling me boss”. While I’d love to see the look on someone’s face after that line was delivered to them, it’s not my style and I couldn’t hold a straight face.
Toby Flenderson would either take the polite route and ask that he not be called boss or perhaps the passive aggressive approach by filling out an anonymous comment card for the establishment. While the polite route is probably the most adult way of dealing with it, Toby is pretty much ignored as a character and would likely get the same treatment in this case as well.
Stanley Hudson would go for the “whatever” reaction by uttering a “Ahhhh huh” while filling out a crossword puzzle while Roy Anderson would probably just punch the guy. So maybe looking to The Office characters isn’t the greatest model for a response, but it sure is a fun one.
I don’t want to take all of the fun, so what would the other characters respond with?
Ryan Grimm 