Disclaimer: I didn’t take a camera so all photos are courtesy of my partners.
This was my second visit to Potrero Chico and I had even more of a blast than the first time. The place has really grown up. We stayed at the Posada and had little rooms (two to a room) with full bathrooms – nice, hot showers. There was a restaurant on the property that served delicious dinner specials and a nearby cafe (Tami’s) with good coffee and some breakfast foods. The cafe even has wireless internet. I personally didn’t need to have a laptop there but you saw people using it.
Here’s the gang in front of the entrance to our compound with the mountains looming up behind us.
On a few mornings there was fog up in the canyon and mist at the campground but the climbing, once we walked up to it, always turned out to be great. The book said that it could be raining at camp and not in the canyon and it turned out to be true. Always walk in and look.
There were six of us in our group and we mixed it up from day to day. We got in after noon and ran straight out to get used to the rock. We did three one-pitch moderate routes each before tiredness overwhelmed us.
Wednesday
Cat Daddy, 5.9
Skairdy Kat, 5.9
DNA-DRD-2, 5.10
The next day started the long routes. That was what I’d come for and I was able to find a willing partner for whatever I wanted to do. All in all I climbed 30 pitches and led 23 of them, including 13 pitches of 5.10. I never took a fall, though I did push it pretty close. I pulled off one hold (while following) and had no stuck rap ropes (in the whole group we only had one stuck rope but several instances of loose rock coming off).
I never did get on anything harder than 5.10 but my joy was in getting a long ways off the ground and I did that four days in a row. The views there are fantastic and every summit is worth the trip. Like the guidebook says, Potrero Chico really is the whole enchilada.
Treasure of the Sierra Madre
Barry and I started our first long day with Treasure of the Sierra Madre which was seven pitches with a few pitches of 10. We were climbing below another party, not normally a good idea at Potrero Chico, but the rock on this route was as solid as it is anywhere. I led the first pitch and arrived at a cush belay on the top of a pillar. That’s when Barry realized he only had one shoe that fit him. The other shoe apparently fit his wife. Glad it was a nice belay, I waited for Barry to run back to the Posada and get his backup shoes.
I figured it was just as well. The party above us didn’t seem to be moving so quickly. It later turned out that they were at the crux and we didn’t move so quickly there either, so we never did catch up to them and I doubt we would have even without the shoe diversion. The people above us, whom I’m going to call Pete and Yvonne even though I’m not sure that’s right, had their simul-rapping rig down pat. Barry and I tried one pitch of simul-rapping and found it too exhausting. Neither of us was using an auto-block (I habitually don’t and he just wasn’t). Holding on to one strand of rope while fishing most of it out of a cactus five feet below you is pretty strenuous. After that, Barry used his auto-block and I went first (with two strands of rope) and fished the ropes out of the catci by myself.
On the summit of Sierra Madre.
While Barry and I were doing Treasure of the Sierra Madre, the rest of the crew followed each other up Cactus Pile. The book said that the new fourth pitch of Cactus Pile was a, well, pile. Brien had to find out though. Here’s a photo of Jim rappelling with the rock he kicked off but managed to catch.
Before we left the area, I stopped to talk to Pete and Yvonne who were now two pitches up Snot Girlz. Or so I assumed. Don’t assume things you can just ask about. Anyway, Yvonne was having a terrible time and eventually got lowered back down to the first belay. So I asked her if it was so much harder than Sierra Madre. Nominally, it was 10c vs. 10d. She said it was for her but wouldn’t be for me, as hard as I climb. That was a lovely thing for a person who had met me a few hours ago while rapping past me to say, but it was hardly reassuring. All I knew was that she’d made it up Sierra Madre (albeit with a fall or two) and she was now being lowered off Snot Girlz. I wanted to do Snot Girlz.
Crack Test Dummies
When Barry and I got down from Sierra Madre, the others were doing single pitches and were just about ready to wrap it up, but Brien and I hadn’t had enough, so we went over to the Spires to do the classic (meaning old) route to the top, Crack Test Dummies. Brien led the first 5.7 chimney pitch which I managed to follow without doing any chimneying because it was 5.7 and I was following. Then I led the 5.9 chimney pitch. No one told me this route had a 5.9 chimney pitch. Grunting, heaving, flesh contacting rock every which way. It wasn’t a true squeeze chimney or anything but there was no face climbing around some of it. Plus I got these lovely old ring pitons to clip instead of bolts.
Apparently I failed to go right when I should have gone right which meant that I did the last 30 feet or so above a single ring piton. It wasn’t hard but the rope drag was starting to get to me. You’re not supposed to have rope drag when you’re clipping bolts but you’re not supposed to be chimneying or clipping pins either. I topped out only to see no sign of a bolt or an anchor. I was contemplating belaying from the other side of the ridge as a last resort but I made one more step up to peek at the next highest point on the ridge and there was the bolt I needed. That bolt led to a comfy multi-bolt belay.
Brien on the summit of the left spire. Actually, just below the summit where the anchor is. We didn’t follow the old ring pins to the tippy top as it looked more like mud than rock and we didn’t know if there was another anchor up there.
Thursday
Moto Wall, Treasure of the Sierra Madre, 7 pitches, 10c
with Barry
(10a, 10a, 10c, 5.9, 10c, 5.9, 5.7) – led odd
Spires, Crack Test Dummies, 5.9, 2 pitches
with Brien
(5.7, 5.9) – led 2nd
Snot Girlz
I was trying to figure out which were the hard pitches on Snot Girlz. I was doing this for altruistic reasons. Really. If I was climbing with some of our party, it would make sense for me to take the harder half. The book said the pitches went 10+, 10+, 10. And then 5.9. So whoever went first got more 10. But whoever went second got what I believed to be the crux pitch. I believed that because of Yvonne. But Yvonne wasn’t on Snot Girlz. She was on Pancho Villa. I figured that out later when I did Pancho Villa.
As it turned out, it was a moot point because I did Snot Girlz with Jim and he didn’t need me to be a hero. We drew straws and I won the first pitch. I think my pitch was harder but he didn’t say my pitch was harder and I didn’t say his pitch was harder, so I suppose they were both just hard. Nice route but not bolted for shorties. There were quite a few places where I would have liked the bolt to be one move closer. This is especially true when you’re 15 feet out and have an idea that the presence of a bolt means a hard move is coming up and you’d kind of like to clip it before finding out.
Meanwhile, Jim had so much energy he took a photo in the middle of a lead. Yes, I’m belaying in that photo and I’m sure I’m doing a perfectly good job of it.
Me at a Snot Girlz belay.
The most exciting pitch, in some ways, was the 5th which is a 5.9 with some crazy sideways moves. If you could trust the rock a little more, it’d be a blast. And also easier. Some of the challenge at Potrero Chico is deciding which holds you’re willing to gamble on. There was a bonus pitch at the end. I swear my guidebook said there were only six pitches. Other guidebooks clearly say seven though, so it was only a bonus due to poor reading ability on my part.
Great summit.
Friday
Moto Wall, Snot Girlz, 10+, 7 pitches
with Jim
(10+, 10+, 10, 5.9, 5.9, 5.9, 5.9) – led odd
Satori
Brien and I didn’t know we were making the longest approach at Potrero Chico that much longer. We didn’t find the (incredibly obvious when you know where to look) old mining road that was the start of the directions leading to El Bobo (the Dunce) so we winged it. You know how winging it goes. First it seemed like a trail, then it seemed like a wash, finally we had to admit we were just climbing directly up a cactus-choked hillside with not a clue between us.
We had a companion named Sparky. I don’t know why Sparky was so attached to us at that point; we didn’t feed him. Maybe we were just the first climbers up that morning. But he chose to follow us on our misadventure, pushing us into cacti and running under our feet as we were trying to step up on boulders. We kept telling him to go home in all the languages we knew, but he wasn’t listening in any language. Several times we thought we’d lost him by doing something that was too hard for him to follow, but he always made a comeback.
Eventually we got up to Bobo and traversed around it to find the trail we should have been on, which was nicely marked with red spray paint. Following that, we got to the rock ridge which had to be climbed. This is no worse than 3rd class at its hardest but it’s more than a dog can do. So we thought we’d really lost him. But no.
When the ridge ended, we had to cross and briefly follow a scree slope to get to the continuation of the trail. And there’s Sparky beneath us. He has somehow found the very bottom of this scree slope and is charging up it at full speed, furiously kicking out rocks behind him. An avalanche starts. First Sparky valiantly fights it, his little legs paddling without any uphill progress. Then the avalanche grows too strong and Sparky turns tail and runs – directly down the scree slope, unfortunately, with the stones cascading over him.
Somewhere below us, Sparky rests. And then: the sound of sliding rocks! Sparky is making a second charge! He made it too. After that, we gave up and let him tag along. We made one more wrong turn getting to the start of Satori. The guidebook – and I swear this is true – said we had to turn right off the trail at some point, so when a fixed rope appeared to the right of the trail, we took it. Much sliding (much like Sparky) later, we arrived at the base of the wrong rock. So we slid back down the fixed rope, went left, and finally got to the start of the route.
It seemed like it had been a big, time-consuming, sweat-inducing adventure. We were supposed to be doing seven pitches, which didn’t worry us until we spent two hours on the approach. That’s when we realized neither of us had a watch. So Brien said his camera would tell him the time when he took a photo. He didn’t know what time it would tell him. He thought it was probably Eastern non-DST, or one hour off, but it could have been Eastern with DST, or two hours off (Mexico hadn’t changed their clocks yet). We called it “relative time” and figured as long as we were down by 5:00 relative time we couldn’t go wrong. Here I am making a face for the camera for the first “time check.”
As it turns out, we ran up and down the route in no time and the descent was much smoother as a result of staying on the right trail. Sparky, however, deserted us. He slept for a while on our packs and then gave up and walked away. I wonder if he decided we were dead or boring or just safe now that we weren’t trying to crawl our way through the desert landscape.
Here I am at the summit. This route truly had great exposure and views the whole way up.
Here’s a view from about halfway up.
And here’s a look down the ridge from the summit. We didn’t climb this ridge (doesn’t look like fun, does it?). We climbed a point about halfway along it, so from our summit the ridge stretched both above and below us.
Saturday
El Toro, Satori, 10c, 7 pitches
with Brien
(5.9, 10b, 5.9, 10b, 10a, 10c, 5.7) – led odd
Pancho Villa Ridges Again
On the last day, everyone had a big plan but my plan was the smallest of the big plans. Dan and I were going to do Pancho Villa Rides Again which is only five pitches. The catch was that I was going to lead every pitch. By now I had a mantra: find the foot that makes this easy. The rock there calls for finesse – body position and footwork make all the difference. Any time I was on the verge of giving up I’d tell myself to find the foot that made it easy and, lo and behold, there one would be. I’m going to try that mantra at other climbing places. Whether or not there are always magic feet, it’s sure better self-talk than “I’m scared” or “I can’t do this.”
Of course the first pitch of Pancho Villa had to be hard and the second had to be harder and of course I z-clipped the crux. Pancho Villa was nicely bolted, unlike Snot Girlz. When the bolts are close enough to z-clip that means you’re in the crux. When the bolts are 15 feet apart, that means it’s easy. Or so I would tell myself. Look how far away that next bolt is! Gee, this is going to be easy!
From midway through the second pitch, I could guess why Yvonne was having so much trouble with it. It wasn’t that it was steep. I’d seen her climb steep. It was that it was a crack climb. Without crack technique, I can’t guess how hard it would be. The funny thing is that I don’t remember doing any jamming the last time I was at Potrero Chico. This time, it seemed like I was jamming on every pitch. That’s the difference between knowing how to jam and not. If you don’t know it, you won’t see it.
Once through the eye-opener of a first pitch and its equally brutal friend, the second pitch, we made it up and down without any trouble. Here’s Dan on the summit facing up-canyon. This is one of those summits where you can look over either side.
I’m looking down-canyon.
While Dan and I were doing Pancho Villa, the others were on Black Cat Bone and Space Boyz. Here’s Barry just through the crux of Black Cat Bone and Brien at the belay above it. Dan took this photo from Pancho Villa.
Some great photos of Jim and Suzanna on Space Boyz taken from Black Cat Bone.
Getting Wood
Of course Dan and I were down from Pancho Villa much earlier than the others were down from their longer routes. The night before, from the safety of not having to climb anything at all and the courage of a shot of tequila, I’d suggested we could take another route up the spires after. Now, considering the fact that the next easiest way up the spires was 10+ while looking at the darkening sky and remembering that tequila is good, I wasn’t so sure. Hoping the sky would take care of my dilemma, I said we might as well walk over and take a look at it.
The sky didn’t help. Not soon enough, anyway.
From disconcertingly low on the route, I began to get the idea that I might not make it. The hard part was earlier, and longer, than we had picked it out from the ground. It was steep and my mantra was on occasion failing me. Sometimes there were no feet to make it easy. Sometimes there were no feet.
The rhythm went like this: Clip bolt. Feel safe. Figure since I’m safe I can do one move. Do one move, then one more. Start to feel like bolt is a long ways away. Climb madly towards next bolt. Clip bolt. Feel safe. Figure since I’m safe . . .
At one discouraging point I asked Dan where my anchor was. Higher apparently. Foreshortening, the climber’s nemesis. But when I sank both arms up to the elbow over the pedestal at the top, I knew I was there. “I’m going to do this, Dan,” I said. “I know you are Dawn,” he said. I don’t know how he knew that.
It was at the start of the second pitch that the raindrops fell. The second pitch was supposed to be 5.9 and I hoped with all of my heart that it would be sport 5.9 and not that real 5.9 that’s often worse than 10. Fortunately, it was. Unfortunately, I got off-route at the very top. Avoiding what I thought were the bolts I failed to find on Crack Test Dummies, I went too far right. I’ve now missed those bolts from two routes in all directions. Luckily I climbed a less-than-normally pointy tree and clambered onto the belay.
This is me belaying and Dan climbing the tree at the top of Getting Wood. I believe that the route should have summitted from my left and that Crack Test Dummies comes up even farther left. Somewhere there are two sets of nice, but unclipped, bolts beneath me.
(This picture was taken from Space Boyz. Nice zoom, eh?)
Sunday
Moto Wall, Pancho Villa Rides Again, 10c, 7 pitches
with Dan
(10, 10c, 10a, 10a, 10a) – led all
Spires, Getting Wood, 10d, 2 pitches
with Dan
(10d, 5.9) – led all
My other Potrero Chico trip report: Fried Shoes and Other Luxuries
Bonus picture of Suzanna on Yankee Clipper because it’s nice.
