"Good things come to those who at least try to get out and do it." 

Yesterday was the proof of that. The day after New Year's was warm but damp in the Northeast. Fog coalesced into mist and threatened to become drizzle at any moment, but for the 6 of us who met at the Bakery that morning there was no question: we were going climbing. We were pleasantly surprised to find that almost all the rock was dry so we decided to set up camp at the foot of MF and Mother's Day Party. Todd ran through the climbs in the area. 
 

"Why are you looking at me?" I protested. "I'm solid on 5.7. My gear might not be, but I am." 

Steven wasn't crazy about my leading Something Interesting though. There was a lot of talk about mud, and cruxes, and mud at the cruxes. Todd was arguing that the route protected well and Steven was arguing that the second crux was hard to protect. They didn't appear to need my input, so I quietly took off Steven's new Yates Shield (just trying it out) and put on my own harness. I hadn't really even looked at the line yet, but if they were going to argue about it then it was clear that I wanted to lead it. 

"Julie wants to climb it," I said. "I'll lead and she can follow." 

Surprisingly, that seemed to resolve the issue. I expected to be told that if I was going to lead it I at least had to have Todd or Steven watching me. My strategy was to negotiate from there. Instead, Julie flaked out my rope at the base of the climb while I got handed Todd's rack along with stern instructions to sew it up. 

"How much gear is sewing it up?" I asked. It's a floating target that I never seem to hit. 

"The route is 120 feet," Steven said, "Put in at least 14 pieces." 

I started the route with great trepidation. They had made me nervous. I'd led 5.7s at the Gunks before - what was so awful about this one? Emmett watched me put in the first piece and made me perform shenanigans with it to prove that it was multi-directional. Then I was left alone. Steven was leading MF and I expect that that was a lot more interesting. 

The day started to warm up even more and the sun made an occasional appearance. The rain wasn't coming after all. When the sun broke through it gave the rocks an other-worldly glow, like in one of those paintings by that Painter of Light guy who sells stuff at the mall. This was January at the Gunks? It was a gift. 

"You're doing great," Julie called up every once in a while. Otherwise it was quiet. I dutifully stopped every four moves and put in another piece. When I reached a big ledge I turned around and asked Julie if I'd made it through any of the cruxes yet. She told me I was past the first one - excellent, I hadn't even noticed it. 

Todd had pre-selected a piece to protect the second crux, the red cam. I was not to use it before then. Exactly how I was supposed to know when I got to the second crux wasn't as clearly defined. 

Two moves, three moves, four moves. It was time to place another piece. I didn't see any terribly good placement opportunities but, not feeling very worried at the moment anyway, I slotted a small nut that obviously wasn't going to hold any outward pull but that might hold a pull straight down. Unfortunately, this business of sewing it up had left me without any more slings, so I had to clip a draw to it. It rather looked like the red cam might go in a little further up, but I was saving it. I made a couple of moves and heard a clink. Sure enough, the nut was hanging from the piece below it. I looked at Julie. 

"I'll put in something in a second," I said. I made another move. "There's a pin here." The last couple of moves had been hard and with the piece below me having self-cleaned I was officially runout. I was happy to get the pin clipped and then I saw that the red cam would go in too. "This must be it," I thought, having grown accustomed to pins at cruxes at the Gunks, and I shoved in the cam. The next few moves didn't feel bad at all and then it was just a run up to the anchors. 

You've probably already guessed that the red cam should have gone in around where the nut did and that I was hanging from the crux when the nut popped, but it all worked out just fine. In the end I placed 11 pieces and clipped two pins, for a total of 13. Steven gave me the anchor as my fourteenth placement. I even got a thumbs up from Julie on every one of my placements (that lasted long enough for her to clean it). 

"So," I said to Steven once we were both safely on the ground again (him from MF and me from Something Interesting), "if that was 7+ then I must be ready to lead 5.8." 

"I told you so," Steven said to Todd, but he didn't really sound unhappy. 

I went over to TR MF. I couldn't believe Steven had led it. The move around the corner was terrifying, even on TR. It was burly, blind, and exposed. I pulled through it and moved up to the second crux, where I fell while trying to substitute brute strength for footwork, and then I finished the route. What a great route that is. I'm going to be pretty proud of myself the day I lead that one. 

Next up was Todd leading Mother's Day Party. Steven belayed him and I sat on a nearby rock, eating Shark Bites Fruit Chews, talking to Steven about our respective leads, and glancing up now and then at Todd. Todd appeared to be building himself an anchor below the second crux. 

"I'm going to fall now," I heard Todd say and looked up to see him push off the rock and take a relatively short, controlled fall. Steven caught him handily and, so it seemed, effortlessly. Looking at the gear was an education. I'd heard all the warnings about making sure the first piece was multi-directional, but I never expected what I saw. The lower two pieces were just about standing on end and every piece except the ones Todd was hanging directly off of were pulled straight out and taut. Every one of them held though. 

Now I have to back up and tell you how Steven and Todd met (this is a refresher course because some of you might remember this story). One day Steven saw Todd take an intentional fall for the purpose of showing his belayer what it felt like to catch a lead fall. From Steven's angle it looked like most of Todd's gear had pulled and Steven posted something about the folly of it all on rec.climbing only to find out that Todd followed rec.climbing too. Now back to our story. 

Since Todd's gear had withstood the fall, one of them suggested that Steven and I trade places and that Todd take another fall so that I could catch it. Steven and I carefully negotiated the changeover, even though Todd was clipped directly into one of his pieces. Once I had Todd on belay, while he was still hanging and resting, Steven and I discussed whether or not I should be anchored. I mean, of course I should be, but I've lead-belayed unanchored before and I thought maybe I should get the full impact. For that reason, I didn't even move to stand directly below the first piece, which I ordinarily would do when lead-belaying if I wasn't anchored. Steven cautiously insisted on holding the rope about 4 feet away from me. I just smiled at him - I'm not going to drop Todd, silly bear. 

Todd started climbing again. He muttered something I didn't catch about setting an anchor at the top and kept climbing till he was higher than where he had been when he'd fallen before. It looked like he had made the hard move and I relaxed, thinking he'd pull all the way through the crux, set some more pro, and then jump. 

He jumped. 

I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't that. One moment I was seeing him fall and the next moment I was hanging four feet off the ground, mid-way between the rock and Steven who was the only thing that kept me from shooting all the way up to the first piece. I think we were all pretty shaken up. Todd sure was - he had fallen a little farther than he had expected to and had had long enough to think about it. 

I let myself back down to the ground and Steven rigged up an anchor for me. Todd, who is obviously pretty fearless, went back up and fell off the crux twice more before sticking it. On both those occasions he was lower down, closer to where he was with Steven. But even so, and even with the anchor, I ended up completely off my feet each time, stretched tightly between the tree and the rock. It makes me shiver now to think of the times I've lead-belayed from the ground without an anchor (including for Geoff). It's never happening again. 

Then I got to follow Mother's Day Party. What a fun route, with two great cruxes. I cruised the first crux but fell about umpteen times on the second crux before finally doing it so easily that I know I couldn't do it again because I didn't learn anything from it. Todd said it was 10+ and I was psyched about finally doing my first Gunks 10 - no shame in falling off a 10+. 

Later at dinner, Steven's regular partner Mike showed us the guide book which claimed that the first pitch of Mother's Day Party (we were mostly just doing first pitches on Sunday - it was a cragging kind of day) was only 9+, but I have chosen to disregard this piece of information. 

Also at dinner, Steven and Todd talked over my head about which 8 I ought to do first. They came up with some good ones. I mostly left them to it - I was busy basking in the afterglow of a great day of climbing. I had only done four routes, and only led one of them, but it still goes down as one of my greatest days climbing ever, truly a gift from the Gunks Gods.