9/2/02 & 9/21/02

It's Labor Day and the Gunks are gray and nearly deserted.MF is open but I don't want to do it. I haven't led it cleanly yet. I need to, but today isn't the day. Todd suggests Overhanging Layback (5.7) because it has a reputation and because it's right next door.

"It'll be good for you," he says.

It's three weeks later and I haven't been climbing since. I have a visitor from Squamish in tow. The Gunks are cool and empty first thing in the morning but by the time we get off Ken's Crack, the day has warmed up and the crowds are out. MF is taken. So is everything else on the Mac wall. I suggest Overhanging Layback because it's close and it's free.

"Is it worth doing?" Jay asks.

"Sure," I say, mentally crossing my fingers. It's hardly the classic route I meant to get him on, but it is a Route With a Reputation. Anyone's who done it will remember it.

Todd claims he was on this route once before but doesn't remember it, so we scour the guidebooks for clues. Apparently there are two ways to do the route: left or right. Left is the original. Right is the revised. Right sure looks harder--traverse under a flake, pull the flake, then traverse back across the top.

"What do you think 'left' means?" I ask. "Do you think you go up to the flake and pull straight over it there?" I point at a smaller flake piggy-backed on the larger flake before the traverse. It seems like the obvious spot.

"I don't know. You'll have to figure it out when you get up there."

I have every intention of taking the easiest possible path.

"There are three ways to do the route," I explain to Jay, three weeks older and wiser. "The original route goes left. The new route goes right. Then there's straight up." I point at the overlap between the smaller and larger flakes. "It might be a little harder."

"But the original route goes left? Might as well do the original route." And I know he's looking for the easy way out.

I can see there's no point in putting gear down low. The climbing is easy enough and I probably need to save that size gear, so I climb up to a natural stopping point just before the meat of the route before placing my first piece.

Jay climbs confidently up to the big foot in the corner without stopping. I wonder if I made it look that easy or if Todd was futilely holding the rope, watching as I overgripped and made too-large moves between the best footholds, wishing I'd put something in.

I put my hand on the chalk-covered chock stone wedged deep in the corner/cave and hear it grate towards me. I pat it gently back into place. It's a little awkward trying to press myself into this gaping hole and place gear in it at the same time. Then I notice a small finger of rock off to my right. I backstep it with my right foot and am saved.

I hear the sound of rock against rock. "Found the chock stone, did you?" I yell up. Other people have called this the crux of the route--getting established in the alcove. Jay immediately stems his right foot against a bump on the face. And I thought I was such a brilliant little gym climber to figure that out.

I'm about a quarter way over the flake, eyeing the easier looking ground to the left of me longingly. Is that what the guidebook meant by going left? Sure looks swell. I'd be tempted to climb over there except that I can't get there from here. I've got a good piece in bad rock at my chest and a big move over my head. Maybe going right under the flake wouldn't have been such a bad choice. Too bad I can't get there from here either.

I spend a long time in a bad spot, halfway up and halfway down. "Any option would have been better than this one," I tell myself. "I don't know what to do," I tell Todd. Up or down? Left or right? Finally I make a big step up and grab the horizontal on top of the flake. A couple of power moves and I'm through it.

"Good job," Todd says.

Jay doesn't place much gear, I notice. But with his body partway over the flake and his eyes darting sometimes left and sometimes right, he stops to put in another piece.

"Yeah, you get kind of committed there, don't you?" I say. "I think if you want to go left you have to do it earlier." I'm only guessing though. I've never seen anyone go anywhere but straight up. I went straight up. Todd went straight up. And unless Jay figures something else out pretty soon, he's going straight up too. Which he eventually does.

"Good job," I tell him.