8/5/01

Tanya on Darius Green's Flying Machine (5.10)

The Google search I did before leaving for DC wasn't very encouraging. When someone says "by almost any criteria imaginable, Great Falls sucks" it doesn't leave much room for hope. But the advice to drive the extra three hours from DC to Seneca isn't for me. Tanya and I might be able to sneak away for a half day of climbing, but Seneca is out of the question.

I almost say the hell with it altogether. The east coast is in the grip of the worst heat wave I can remember and just the thought of leaving my brother's air-conditioned house is unattractive enough. Add an 8:00 am start and the summation "short, crowded with bodies, ropes, and sweat, and often hot and humid" and the temptation to pass is strong. But some of Tanya's friends are going and I won't be back this way again soon, so I stagger out of bed and into the 100% humidity like a trooper.

The funny thing is, with everyone scurrying around the top attaching static ropes to trees and unfurling miles of webbing, and after Tanya has introduced me around as her sister-in-law and someone has responded, "Oh yeah, the one who climbs a lot", the funny thing is, I've never set up a top rope before. Not as such. Not by myself. Not exactly. I might normally play the newbie and "assist" someone else's setup but everyone else is busy doing their own thing and Tanya is looking at me expectantly. She's waiting for me to combine a couple of trees, her rope, the handful of static rope and webbing I've borrowed from Todd, and the locking biners from the daisy that I keep girth-hitched through my harness into something we can climb.

Tanya on our variation of First Blood (5.10-) which none of us could do

The trees are sickly looking and about 50 feet from the edge. There's a great looking crack at the top of the route I've been assigned. If you gave me a rack, a few draws, and a cordelette, I'd have the rope down in five minutes or be apologizing for taking so long, but I don't have a rack with me. I ask around tentatively and one guy tells me that he has a few nuts with him but "I'd never use gear in a TR." This is either baffling or frightening, I don't know which. Is it that he's afraid the top-roping will hurt his gear? Baffling. Or is it that he trusts his placements so little? Frightening.

It turns out that there's a history of gear being taken from TR anchors at Great Falls. OK, I can understand that. You don't want either your gear or your anchor to disappear. So it's the trees then. I just posted the FAQ entry on setting up a toprope for heaven's sake. I remember particularly liking Dave Fasulo's elegant solution. I can handle this.

A ridiculously long time later, though still quicker than my co-workers, I have an anchor. Tanya and I scramble down the steep but short downclimb. "I've led stuff harder than this," I mutter as I grope my way down, "and I was placing gear on it."

Bravely, I climb on my own rope first. We're in the Cornice area, but I never get to try Cornice itself. It looks interesting but a pair of climbers not in our party have it and they take turns not climbing the route, proving that a party of two on one rope can be just as big a hindrance as a large party with a lot of ropes. Amongst our own party there's always a rope open somewhere.

I try a variety of routes, struggling on the 10s and mostly not getting them, then finally blasting up a 5.7 to finish the day in style. Despite the oppressive atmosphere, cooler finally today but even more humid if that's somehow possible, I enjoy myself. The climbing is interesting and varied. It reminds me of Potrero Chico except that all the sharp, little flaky holds are turned sideways. With all the small sidepulls, body tension is supremely important.

Me on Conroy Wasn't Here (5.7)

We're only able to stay a few hours but at the end of that time I've climbed four routes and thoroughly trashed my arms and fingertips. I leave happily, knowing I'll always have a place to climb in Virginia.

8/6/01

Chris Long sent in this trip report from Mt. Lindsey: San Juan Trip, 3 fourteeners: August 6-12

8/11/01

Keith Hoek sent in this trip report from Sleeping Giant, Connecticut: Weissner's Rib

8/12/01

It's that sort of day. Between ourselves, Todd and I have agreed not to even bother driving up to the Gunks on days like this. We know what we'll find. It used to surprise me, then frustrate me. Now it's simply accepted: on foggy days there will be an extra band of mist that trails along the cliffs, leaving every inch of rock lightly coated with water.

But today we're supposed to meet Peter, who's coming all the way from Nova Scotia. Well, not this morning. This morning he's coming from Danbury, but he only has two days to climb at the Gunks. He won't know about the fog-slimed rock, wouldn't understand it if we tried to explain it, and probably wouldn't care if he did.

We don't expect to climb anything.

We park in the one-hour overlook lot (see above). As we're hiking up the trail to the Uberfall we hear the unmistakable clink of trad gear. Sure enough, there's a lone, tall figure walking down the carriage trail. I've only seen Peter in pictures but there can't be more than three of use here today so it's worth a try.

Todd, me, and Peter on a foggy day at the Gunks

"Peter?" I call up. The figure stops. We're met.

Somehow we're climbing. OK, honestly, I epxected it (see above). Somehow I'm leading. What else can we do? It would be uncharitable to send someone new to the area up in these conditions and Todd's still nursing the finger injury that led to the premature cancellation of my leading hiatus. So, I'm leading.

Peter on Laurel (5.7)

I rack up for Rhododendron (5.6) and move steadily up to the crux, which is funny because before today I didn't know that Rhododendron had a crux. I'm not liking the move at all and am getting tired trying to find a stance. Finally I hang on my gear, pull through the move just high enough to place another piece, and then immediately hang on that. One move later and I'm through all the hard stuff and cruising to the top.

It's not exactly a triumph (Peter has probably been wondering just how long leading a short 5.6 can take) but I made it safely up and back down again, so who cares? A bit of downclimbing and traversing has allowed me to set up Laurel (5.7) as well, so we have hours of entertainment for me, Peter, Jason, his partner from yesterday who's just shown up, and Helen, who we don't know but who was moping around because her guide cancelled on her.

Eventually everyone has tried everything and we pull our ropes. Peter is itching to do some real Gunks climbing, i.e. multi-pitch. I'm a long way from wanting to sit on a damp belay ledge but Jason's arrival has saved us all. Peter and Jason trot off to do Easy Overhang (5.2) in the mist. Todd and I head for the bar. And Helen? Hopefully her guide showed up the next weekend.

Peter looking down at Jason on the second pitch of Easy O (5.2)

8/18/01

Keith Hoek sent in this trip report from Whitehorse Ledges, New Hampshire: Slabs Direct, Direct Finish, Standard Route

8/25/01

Keith Hoek sent in this trip report about the Gunks: Who Dares Wins

8/27/01

Geoff Jennings sent in this trip report about kayaking to Anacapa Island: Anacapa Island Crossing