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About Tradgirl | ||
12/2/2000
Saturday was cold but clear and still. Steven, Todd and I started with Maria Direct (5.9). This was my third attempt at the route. And I don't mean leading it. I mean trying to get up it at all, in any style. The thin, reachy move near the ground has always stumped me. The only time I've been higher than that move is when I used a draw as an extra hold.
The last time we were on it, at the end of the day, Todd found what he claimed was a better way to do the move. At that time I was too frustrated with the route to try again, but on Saturday he led the route using his "new" way and I found myself following it easily. Perhaps this route really is 5.9. I always thought it was 5.11.
It was a nemesis kind of day with me because after Maria Direct we moved over to Jean, another 5.9 I've never been able to pull, even on top-rope. The crux on Jean involves long, thin moves over a roof. I came close to doing it once but it had just started to rain and the holds over the roof were wet in addition to being small and a long ways away.
Todd on a "nice" day at the Gunks
And no, I couldn't climb it. Steven finally got over the roof on top-rope (Jean is a nemesis from his more distant past) but I never got over it at all. But I did go up and come down safely. I even took a short lead fall on a last-gasp attempt to get over the roof. Lead falls have become pretty impossible for me these days. I just can't bring myself to commit to any move I don't feel confident of doing. Even at Potrero Chico, climbing on bolts, I twice found myself grabbing draws rather than risk a fall.
There was a time when I would have been upset about backing off a lead like that (Todd finished it for me), but not anymore. Instead, I was pleased. I tackled something I knew I probably couldn't do but believed I could safely attempt and I attempted it safely. I was calm and in control the whole way. I protected the crux so well that Steven only felt compelled to add one piece when he went up to try to lead it. I even forced myself to take the perfectly safe two foot fall that awaited me if I blew the move. All in all, it was a pretty good lead.
I'd still like to get over that roof someday though.
Todd was still fiddling around on Maria Redirect (5.11), which he can do but I can't. Steven didn't feel like leading Jean, and I was impatient. So, what the hell. I decided to try to lead it myself even though I probably couldn't even climb it.
12/9/2000
One day when I was feeling cocky and poised to start leading 5.9, I posited to Steven that there wasn't a 5.7 at the Gunks that could scare me anymore. He recommended Trapped Like a Rat. Alas, the opportunity to prove him wrong didn't present itself immediately and then came the dark days of my lead head woes when any 5.7 could scare me.
Now that I've got most of my confidence back and a couple of 5.9s under my belt, a discussion about sandbags on gunks.com brought Trapped Like a Rat to my mind again. So when Todd asked me what I wanted to do on Saturday, I tentatively ventured that I'd like have a go at it.
It is obvious from the ground that the start protects well and I took immediate advantage of that fact by placing gear every foot or so. The stances aren't great and I was doing a bit of climbing both up and down until I finally worked out a sequence that got me around the initial lump where I got in one more piece and then panicked. Climbing back down once again, I slipped and took what amounted to a top rope fall off the top piece. Startled but fine, I dangled and assessed.
Todd pointed out a hold I'd missed to the left and I marched back up there and pulled through this thoughtful, but not really difficult, start. From there easier moves led to a large wedge-shaped ledge. I ambled across to the other side of the ledge and checked out my next move, which appeared to be a mantle onto the nose that formed the right side of the missing pie piece I was standing in. I didn't see any gear.
"Sling that tree," Todd said.
"That tree is a twig," I answered.
"Well, you're in ground fall range over there," Todd replied.
Although I'd placed a piece about as high as possible before pulling onto the ledge, my total distance from the ground wasn't that great and the walk across the ledge meant too much rope was out. Steven had mentioned that, whereas some people mantle straight up onto the nose, other people pull around it and climb the slab on the other side. Mindful of my tenuous situation, I cautiously peered around the nose.
"At least walk around the tree," Todd insisted.
"That tree is not keeping me off the ground," I told him. "This can't be right. This is supposed to be a 5.7G." I kept wandering back left to check out my options in that direction. If I just went left I'd have both gear and what looked like easy climbing. This nose to the right . . . it didn't matter whether I mantled it or circumnavigated it, I hated it either way.
"Are we sure the route goes to the right?" I tried. Todd was sure. "Well, I'm coming down then. Or I'm finishing up left, whatever. I'm not soloing that move."
Todd suggested I put in gear to the left, try the move to the right, then come back down, remove the gear, and do the move again. I was just checking out how high I could get gear to the left when inspiration struck.
"Brainstorm!" I said. I moved back to the right and kneeled down on the ledge. Sure enough, there was a nice crack between the bottom of the nose and the ledge. I placed a big, secure cam and stood back up. I now had gear in. Granted, it was at my feet before I even started, but at least it would keep me off the ground.
I decided to do the mantle. Although it was very likely a more strenuous move, it felt more secure than oozing my way around the corner and up the featureless slab. Once my feet were up on the nose I was happy to discover that I could immediately get good gear from a good stance. In fact, I was so happy I put in three pieces.
Here then was the crux. A roof, of course; this is the Gunks. I grabbed jug number one with my left hand, stepped up, grabbed jug number two with my right hand, stepped up, and whoa! jug number three was a long damned ways away. I stepped back down.
Well, it took more tries than it should have, considering I had three good pieces in, but I did finally work up the courage to let go with my left hand and go for that third jug. Hanging from jug #3, I fiddled around with clipping a manky-looking pin off to my right. I was silently chiding myself - "just step up and the route is over" - but couldn't bring myself to move along without clipping it.
When my right hand was relieved of clipping duty it immediately sought out jug #4 but without success. Jug #4, as it turned out, was a featureless finger crack - not my idea of a hold to finish pulling over a roof with. At that point I was more than glad I'd clipped the pin - I was considering backing it up! But with a last ditch effort I brought my feet up and over the roof and stood up. The route was over (aside from some 5.0 scrambling up snowy ledges to the top).
Although this was the second weekend in a row that my most impressive lead was, well, not very impressive, it was also the second weekend in a row that I lowered off feeling positive about the experience. Trapped Like a Rat had it all - the bold, the bad, and the ugly. And I enjoyed it.
12/27/2000
I was at the Gunks with a group of rec.climbers. See trip reports and photos from GunksFest 2000