High Exposure without High Exposure (da gunks!)

I arrived at the west side parking lot with little expectation for action.My owner milled about at the uberfall for an hour or so before his rope gun showed up. My owner was expecting his leader to come fully equiped so pieces of me may only be used as some extras.

Alas, the pony tailed and tardy leader arrived. He was not sporting his expected big red pack and upon questioning he admitted to his stupidity of leaving his own equipment behind. He did have his own rope however.

I was excited, having not seen action in at least a year, and happy to head up the cliff. The leader chose a modest 5.5 to start by the name of Asphodel.I met some new friends who happened have come with the leader for backup gear.We all meshed well together, hanging from the leader's shoulder.

Soon we were off the ground, and I felt the rock first hand as part of me was wedged into a finger-sized crack. A few clips later and I felt the rope pull through and up to a small overhang. A few of my camming devices were embedded in the rock, and I was soon lassoed to a tree with the leader attached. My friend the rope was pulled through, and before I knew it my owner was heading up and extracting me from my placements. It was cold and clear and the rock was dry. We were all having a great time.
The heat from the rappel was soon dissipated from my belay plates while the men coiled the ropes. Searching in the cliff's guide book, they settled on Credibility Gap, a daunting 5.6 PG.

The leader headed up next to the nearby Asphodel, placing a piece in Asphodel's crack before finally commiting to the thin seam on the left. He found one other good nut and then ran it out a bit, placing my smallest stopper (#4) behind a tiny crystal. I was expecting to rip out in the event the leader fell, and hoped that he would walk with care. Apparently he had a nervous look in his eye as he peered his belayer."Chris, you don't have to do this if you aren't feeling it. You have nothing to prove to me," shouted my owner. "No, it's alright, I'm just nervous, it's the beginning of the season.""Besides, I see good gear here for the crux."

Chris hesitated at the crux, placing a large cam and clipping in before exploring the holds near the commiting crux moves. He opted to put my blue stopper near the end of the roof, clipping in one of my slings and extending it out. If he fell now I would be able to hold him well, and keep him from swinging into the face.

"A one-move-wonder" shouted the leader with relief after he pulled his body around the awkward crux.My carabiner's ached as the rope was pulled through. The leader was complaining about rope drag.The second came up.
Back on the ground Chris got couragous and tried to start up Maria Direct (5.9), but was turned away despite backing up the low pin. The crux moves were too hard on lead for late in the day. One of my new friends Doval was left hanging on the pin as the men walked away.

(cont.)

C'mon, write faster

My owner was climbing with someone else the next day, so he lent me to Chris. Chris found a partner named Kate who was willing to second anything. Game on.

Chris added his large #5 to me for the awkward off-width that the first pitch of Wrist (5.6) contains. I was plugged into the excellent lower crack before Chris headed to the crux of P1. Dodging a tree with the rope, he headed into the of-width and plugged in my new friend before finding footing in the crack and finally moving through it. The leader and his second were soon at the pine-tree belay ledge discussing where to go next.

Chris headed up. The pine trees provided a shady slightly gloomy feel as we headed up to the crux. It was obvious. Another roof to go around, a big move to the finish. I was plugged in below the crux and shared an anchor with an old pin who spoke of some guy named Weisner [V-ee-s-n-er]. Nice chap, really.

Chris pulled the crux move after a bit of trepidation, placing his foot high on the ledge and finally getting around the corner. It did not look graceful, but nobody noticed because pine trees guarded his awkwardness. Again I was forced into dragging Chris's rope to the slabby finish, ending on a beautiful white flake. Three of my cams were inserted into a vertical crack and the second was on her way. She contemplated the crux for a bit, and we were soon all back together again. I assisted in the double-rope rappel, and we were down in 1.

For a while I jangled as the humans tried to locate the rest of their clan (the so-called CCM). After an hour of lolly gagging, Chris and Kate settled on "Thin Slabs". Chris when head long into the direct variation of pitch 1, which was pretty exciting to be part of. My second cam was almost tipped-out and would probably only slow his fall to the ground when my pink tri cam was finally inserted into the finger crack. Chris pulled two more moves and was on safe ground. The hike to the tree-belay was a quick one.

Kate had a hard time getting going on the second climb, perhaps because of Chris' insistence on that second rope for rappel. He relented, she cleaned. We were all at the tree. Chris offered me to his second for the second pitch, it was an easy bit. She declined. We were soon at the fun bit.

Now I guess Chris was feeling confident about his abilities, because he went for the direct variation, taking him out over this humongous roof with some wild exposure. 5.7 says the guide book. Looked 5.scary to me. "I think it'll go," he said.

Sure enough, I had a large nut wedged in the rock below the crux sequence, where I could hear the old rusty codgers egging Chris on (he was oblivious). Sure enough, he clipped that first rusty pin, was unnerving, and then he clipped the next piton, which was in better shape. There really was little place else for me, I was just dead weight.

Chris tried for the third pin. His hands were greasing off the ledgy holds. "Take!" he screamed, doing a pull-up maneuver to get as close to the good piton as possible. "Here we go." cried the piton. His weight was on the pin, it held. Chris sat and contemplated his loss. No on-sight for this climb. One of my trusty slings were placed and Chris's mouth and soon he was clipping it to the third and final pin, the worst of the lot. He looked nervous for a bit, and then pulled hard finding a right foot and going around the corner. Only rope drag slowed his ascent to the trees.

Kate Followed up and fell at each pin. They all held. Soon Chris and Kate were on the wildly overhanging rappel, and finally back at the ground. I rested in the pack after my hard day's work as they hiked out down the carriage road.

-percious's borrowed rack

That was one of the most confusing reports I read in a while!! But now it makes all the sense, I think

I am jealous and want to get out on the rock, damnit!! Who's CCM?

later,
Doug

CCM = Connecticut Climbers and Mountaineers = www.ctclimbers.com .

Gotta mix up the TRs sometimes. I like to change the perspective...

-percious

percious said:

Gotta mix up the TRs sometimes. I like to change the perspective...

Click to expand...

I can dig it

me like; life ain't nothin but chicks and money.