Sometimes the universe has other plans and usually it’s best to go along with them.  I asked a friend to climb Friday.  It was supposed to be a beautiful day and I wasn’t working.  He said yes and then mentioned another friend who had asked the same thing.  So now there were three of us and we cast about for a fourth.  The third soon called with news that he’d found one, and I happily drove up Friday morning anticipating a great day.

The dominoes fell in the same order they’d been stacked.  I’ve experienced this before.  When you have a bunch of partners, each feels individually less responsible, and people who would never normally bail on me for anything less than hospitalization were now jumping ship like rats.  About twenty minutes outside of New Paltz, I was completely deserted.

Trying to salvage what I could from the drive, I figured I’d go to Rock & Snow and buy the new pair of rock shoes I needed for our Devil’s Tower trip and then get in a run at the Preserve.  I was glad I kept running shoes and writing materials in the car as I entertained myself waiting for Rock & Snow to open.  I also made a quick call to Todd to see if he was available.  He wasn’t, but he suggested trying to pick up a partner at the Uberfall.  I’d never done that, never picked anyone up outside of a gym (or a bar), and really couldn’t imagine myself doing it, but I thought I could at least mention my predicament at Rock & Snow.  Maybe they’d have an idea.

The guy trying on shoes next to me was a familiar face from the crags.  We didn’t know each other enough to do more than nod, but I remembered my vow to at least ask the universe for help and opened my mouth and told my sad story of being dumped by three different partners.

“I’m looking for someone to climb with,” he said.  OK then.

He needed to be back in New Paltz in seven hours.  It was a weekday and the cliffs would be empty.  We had never climbed together.  So the obvious choice was Millbrook.  I was practically running to keep up with him on the hike in.  He knew his way around so there was no fumbling getting the rope set up to rap in.  I asked what the plan was, since he clearly had one, and he rattled of three route names.

“If we’re smoking,” he said.  “We’d have to be really smoking to get in the third.”

I only recognized one name–Cruise Control.  It was the route next up for me to lead at Millbrook, since I’d done Westward Ha!  I told him I’d like to lead it and he looked uncertain and switched gears.

“Let’s do Time Eraser as a warm up,” he said, ” and then we’ll see.”

Now at 5.10, Time Eraser is no warm up.  What it was, I could see, was an audition.  But that was fine with me.  Climbing at Millbrook has a reputation and this guy was motivated to move. I didn’t want to be a big stumbling block in the road of our day.  But when I hit the top of Time Eraser, he said, “If you can follow that route in that style, that fast, you’ll have no problem with Cruise Control,” and he dumped the remains of the rack in front of me without further ado.

Now I was nervous.  When someone, no  matter how experienced and intimidating, says they have everything you need, don’t believe them!  Look for yourself.  He carried nothing bigger than a number one and doubles in nothing bigger than a .4.  Even his nuts stopped at about a .5 Camalot size.  Well, I had asked for this lead and all I could do now was set to it.  He wanted me to run the pitches together (he had a 70 meter rope) and years of climbing with Todd had prepared me for that.  I made no promises but duly ran it out anywhere I didn’t feel death impending.  When I placed gear, I tried to place a very small nut, since that was what I had a rack full of.

I got to the intermediate belay without any rope drag and more than half the slings left.  I had sacrificed my single .75 but I still had my number one for the hand crack to come, so I went ahead into the second pitch.  It was no harder than the first and shorter and then it was all over.  I had onsighted Cruise Control in one long pitch, not something I had expected to do–or even have the opportunity to do–that day.

We managed to sneak in that third route, White Corner Direct, by running five minutes late on the schedule.  On the hike out I was literally running to keep up.  With a lot of hustle and little regard for the paint job on his car, we made it back to Rock & Snow exactly on time and shook hands through the car window as he didn’t even pull over to let me out.

“Perfect day,” he said.

Yeah.

Time Eraser, 10- (Rich)
Cruise Control, 9- (Dawn)
White Corner Direct, 10+ (Rich)