bpope’s blog

I thought I hadn’t been climbing outside in a good long while, then my Uncle Joe let me know that he hadn’t been outside in at least 10 years.  So, when an opportune weekend to visit Seattle came up I knew I had to take a day to go climbing with him.  After spending Saturday in the city watching the Sounders with Campo, I walked on over to the ferry terminal and caught a boat to Bainbridge.  For the rest of the night, Joe and I hung off of his porch and messed around with prussiks, autoblocks and etriers, and got excited for climbing the next day.

Campo's got some sweet Sounders season tickets.

We got a thoroughly gentlemanly start (read: opposite of alpine), since I wouldn’t get out of bed until 8 am.  That put us at Index by about 11 that morning.  We racked up at the car, and headed to the base of the Lower Town Wall, an area known as the Great Northern Slab.  Despite not having climbed for longer than I had even thought about climbing, I let Joe take the first lead because he had more cumulative experience than me.  We started out on Sickle Crack (5.7), which is shaped like it sounds.  Slightly larger than a finger crack, it requires a slightly tricky smear before a high step brings your feet into the crack.  Joe protected the move well, though, putting in two pieces of gear!  We headed up around a 5.5 block that required a slightly airy step-over.  The second pitch was a pretty nice hand crack, the first pitch of Pices (5.6).  I’d never done a straight-on crack climb before, but Joe sent it easily and I somehow managed to make my way up.  Joe said it looked smooth, but I think he was just being nice.

Uncle Joe...and he even wore a helmet.

We rapped down, grabbed some lunch, and then Joe handed the rack to me.  It was, after all, supposed to be an opportunity for me to get some practice leading.  As I slung some massive old-school Hexcentrics over my shoulder, I was getting a little bit nervous.  We were headed up the Gully Approach (5.0) which led to the wall’s namesake Great Northern Slab (5.6) a pair of super-fun finger cracks.  As I’ve said before, cracks aren’t really my thing, but I had to try sometime.  Plus, I wasn’t about to let Joe lead all day long.  Instead of doing the Approach unroped, I took the opportunity to practice placing gear, and put in an egregious number of nuts, hexes and cams along the way.  GNS started with a small roof before leading to the face with the twin cracks.  The whole route felt very natural, and I was surprised at how comfortable I felt.  I even ran it out a little bit at the end (which Joe commented on).  

Me on lead.

Once again, we rapped down, but stopped to put in a top rope for the 5.8 (now rated 5.9) fist crack over a small bulge that is the start of Aries.  Joe remembered trying the pitch 15 years ago, and remarked that he kept skating off of it then.  After getting my forearm stuck once, and falling twice, I managed to swing my way up the roof.  On Joe’s turn, managed to send the pitch after falling once (and using way less energy than I had).

Feeling thoroughly sweaty, satisfied (and running a bit late) we took a quick, but very refreshing, dip in the Skykomish River, sorted out the rack and hit the road back to Seattle.

Find out more about the routes on SummitPost: Great Northern Slab (5.6) Aries (5.9)

And, as always, check out the galleries or head straight to my Flickr for more pics.

About my trip report…  that’s what she said.  (Courtesy of my climbing partner Nina Suetake, sometimes better known as @nsmonkeygirl)

Awesome TR by Nina, if you ask me.  I couldn’t have asked for a better trip.  Despite not having met Nina in person before, we got along right from the start.  I felt comfortable climbing, and just hanging out, the whole time.  Climbing with an enthusiastic partner is awesome, and my partner’s smile was constant, enthusiastic, and infectious.  I can only think of one thing I’d do differently next time…steal the rack and lead for a pitch or two!

For more photos, check out the gallery or the flickr set.  Or, I’ll plug it again, check out what she said.

I updated the galleries with photos and maps for a few trips.  FInd it all in the Galleries section or on Flickr.  Here’s what happened:

- Added maps and Google Earth images for the Whitney and Shasta trips.  I think they’re pretty cool, actually.

- Added a gallery for my trip to Seattle.  I spent Saturday with Campo, planning to just go to the Sounders game.  As it happened, the Mariners were playing too, so we bought the cheapest seats we could and enjoyed the second half of the game.  On Sunday I headed to Mt. Index with my Uncle Joe for a little climbing. (A more detailed trip report on that is coming soon.)

- Added a gallery for my solo night hike of Half Dome back in June.  I left the trailhead shortly after midnight, and gained the summit at a little after 4 am.  The whole experience was one of the most special hikes I’ve been on, bar none.  Interestingly, I began hiking only a few hours after a dramatic near-death fall and rescue on the cables section.  For the full story on that, check out the Friends of YOSAR report here.  I can attest firsthand that the granite was really, really slippery.  Scary stuff, but less so if you are properly prepared.

- Added a gallery from this past weekend’s trip to Devil’s Postpile/Yosemite with Teagan.  Saturday we made camp at the NPS campsite at Devil’s Postpile and made and easy 5.5 mile loop to Rainbow Falls and back.  Sunday we had planned to hike Cathedral Peak and Cloud’s Rest, but the rain and electrical activity in the area nixed that plan.  Instead, we enjoyed a relaxing afternoon in the Valley before heading home.

I arrived at McCarren Airport in the late afternoon on 3/21 and met up with my friend, Brandon, who had arrived earlier in the day.  Fortunately, he was able to work out all the rental car details and had already visited the campsite and pitched our tent.  Unfortunately, we still needed to wait three hours for Ian and Adrienne to show up, who had been on a late flight to begin with which ended up being postponed even more.  Anyway, by about 12:30, we had all our bags and made our way to the campsite.

Day 1 - 3/22
We arrived on the evening that the Red Rock Rendevous was wrapping up, and the weather was less than stellar, so there was no climbing to be had on our first day.  Instead, we ran some errands (fuel and a guide book from Desert Rock Sports, grocery story) then headed over to the Rendevous to catch up with Jason Martin, AAI guide and good friend of my buddy Ian.  I had previously met Jason only very briefly, but got to talk to him a little more this time around.  He had taught Ian most of what he knows about climbing, and Ian had in turn started teaching me, so I guess that Jason is kind of my climbing grandfather, which I think is really awesome.  If you don’t know Jason, or all about him, check out the awesome AAI blog (http://alpineinstitute.blogspot.com/) or his personal web page (http://www.dramaticwriter.com/OutdoorAdventure09.html).  After lunch, we decided to head over to the first pullout and just hike around.  Despite the rain, and a touch of hail, we had a lot of fun, and were getting excited for some climbing in the better weather forecast for the following day.

Messing around at the first pulloff from the scenic loop.

Day 2 - 3/23
Time to hit the rocks!  We started out by getting ourselves warmed up with some intro sport climbing.  Our first stop was at  Panty Wall, where we started out with in two teams: the two comfortable leaders (Ian and Adrienne) split up with me and Brandon, respectively.  Adrienne and I ran up and down Silk Panties and The Last Panty, both 5.7, a few times.  Next, we moved onto the Black Corridor.  At that time, I had never led a climb before, but I was feeling decent and, as they say, there’s no time like the present.  I picked Bonair, a classic 5.9, located in the middle of the lefthand side of the lower canyon that looked like a lot of fun.  It was a little anticlimatic: everything went off without a hitch and I was lowering before I knew it :)  The walls were busy, so I was having as much fun watching as anything else.  Once Ian had led it, I had a go on NIghtmare on Crude Street (5.10d) falling once on the crux, but getting after I had felt the hold once was able to stick it.  I really, really liked the route, actually.  We decided to end the day in the sun, so we headed over to the Magic Bus.  Neon Sunset (5.8) was open, and well bolted, so I ran up that before we had to headed back to the car to get out in time.  I definitely like Bonair better than Neon Sunset, but still not a bad climb.  Overall, it was a good day to get back into outdoor climbing, and my first lead to boot.

Day 3 - 3/24
We had planned another day of single pitch sport and trad to get into shape before some multi-pitch routes later in the week.  We headed over to Moderate Mecca, which we figured wouldn’t be very crowded, and we were right.  I was feeling a little lazy (and it was pretty hot), so I ended up taking it pretty easy.  I followed Adrienne on The Route to Mecca (5.7), and cleaned her gear, which was fun but nothing special.  After a short lesson in placing cams and nuts, I grabbed the rack and headed up Sir Climbalot (5.7) for my first trad lead.  This definitely made me think a little bit more than my few sport leads, but still went off mostly without issue.  Afterwards, I led up The Route to Mecca again before we took off for a late-day visit to Atman (5.10a) which I was lucky enough to get a move or two up…my crack climbing still needs lots of work.  We headed back to the car, and to camp, as the sun set and the stars came out.

My climbing partner, a Chuckwalla lizard

Day 4 3/25
On Day 4, we split up the team…Ian and Adrienne took the rack for an attempt of Black Orpheus, while Brandon and I held on to a few draws and the rope for some more sport climbing.  We headed back to the sunny and friendly Panty Wall to begin our day.  The nice weather led to a slightly busy wall, but we weren’t in much of a rush.  We climbed Brief Encounter, Sacred Undergarment Squeeze Job and Boxer Rebellion (all really fun, sustained 5.8).  Brandon had never climbed outside before, so he was still getting the hang of things, which slowed us up a bunch (read: 30 minutes to lower after he climbed), but the day was nice and I wasn’t in a rush, so no big deal.

As things got busier, we decided to hit up the Black Corridor again where I re-climbed Bonair so that Brandon could top rope it, then Bon EZ (5.9+), which was good, but not quite as much fun as Bonair in my opinion.  Then we headed to the upper level to climb 757 2×4 (5.7) which Brandon wanted to take the sharp end for.  Despite trying to clip the rope in backwards a few times, he got the hang of things eventually and led without a problem. I followed, for a good finish to the day, because we had to go pick up Ian and Adrienne.

When we picked them up, we heard their unfortunate story.  First, they had some trouble finding the base of the climb thanks to some overgrown trails, then got stuck behind a super slow party.  The howling wind midway up the 4th pitch was enough to send them back down, which was totally the right move.

Brandon lowering from Boxer Rebellion (5.8)

Day 5 3/26
My last day had me excited.  I was going to take the rack and the sharp end and head up Cat in the Hat (5.6, II) with Brandon following.  I was super psyched for the super classic (probably the most popular climb in all of RR), mulit-pitch lead.  The day was beautiful, meaning the route was crowded, but not too crowded thanks to some pretty high winds.  As I crested the top of the 4th pitch, I moved a little bit out of the protection offered by an arete and got hammered with what I would guess were 35-40 mph winds.  Since we were worried about communicating around the arete in high winds, Brandon and I decided to call it a day and rap down (we weren’t alone in this decision, two other groups were headed the same way).  The adventure wasn’t over, though, since as soon as I tossed the rope behind me, the wind streamed it out sideways.  After traversing wayyyy to my left in order to loosen the rope from a particularly sticky horn, the descent continued mostly without issue.  I nearly missed the final set of bolted anchors since we had taken a slight variation on the way up, but managed to spot them in time.  Overall, tons of fun, highly recommended.

Second belay on Cat in the Hat (5.6, II)

That brought an end to my time at RR for the week, so I headed back to McCarren to hop on a plane bound for Maryland and a very rainy and muddy Ultimate tourney (we got called off after 2 games), but that’s another story enitrely.

Check out the galleries section for more pictures, or check out my flickr pages.

I feel like there’s been a lot of death recently.  I realize that’s awfully self-centered of me; I know that hundreds of thousands of people die every day.  It’s just that for one reason or another, the concept has penetrated my protected little world and thoughts, thanks to both high profile celebrity deaths and accidents in the outdoors.

Cases in point:

Three weeks ago, I night-hiked Half Dome (trip report forthcoming).  Earlier that evening, a woman slipped and fell while on the cables section (the very steep final section that features large steel cable hand-rails).  She was lucky, and was caught by the cables.  She suffered a relatively minor head injury and was helicoptered to safety.  I learned of this after descending from my hike.

Two weeks ago, a 40 year old software engineer and father of two slipped and fell 100 feet to his death (as other hikers looked on), on the same section of trail.

Three weeks to a month ago, three elite climbers died on Mount Edgar in southwestern China.  They were all in their early thirties.

Yesterday, John Bachar, a father and climbing legend, died in a free soloing accident in Bishop, CA.

It’s an almost inevitable thing.  If you mountaineer or climb for long enough, odds are you will die doing it (unless you have some other high risk hobbies).  They are sports filled with objective hazards, and every move is a calculated risk.  Risks can be mitigated by preparation, training and good judgement, but when you’re on a mountain or wall, risk cannot be eliminated.  I was reading about the coverage of the mountaineering deaths in China, when I came across a particularly interesting take by Will Gadd, who wrote:

For me I’m never going to use the word “tragedy” in reference to a climbing or mountain sports accident again. A tragedy is when a whole family gets killed by a drunk driver. A tragedy is when a little kid gets abused. A tragedy is when a 30-year old mother of two young kids gets cancer and dies. Dying while climbing, kayaking, paragliding, BASE jumping or any other form of outdoor recreation isn’t a fucking tragedy, it’s a clearly predictable result of doing the activity. If I or anyone goes out while doing our sports with a clear understanding of the game we’re playing then let’s have a drink, cheer for the life lived, and move on as best we can. I know it’s not that simple as death leaves huge craters in life, but I think that’s the only sane response I can give to the continued and voluntary mountain carnage I keep seeing year in and year out. To celebrate the rewards without clearly understanding the risks is not only bad math but blatant self-deception.

Mountaineering and other adventure sports are awfully narcissistic, so the term ‘tragedy’ just doesn’t ring true.  So, for my part, I think Will is dead on. Enough said.

And to my mother:  for now at least, I am going to keep climbing walls and mountains.  At the same time, though, I need to remember that I’m 22 and despite feeling like I can live forever, I won’t.

(The fact that I recognize this should, at least, make my mother feel marginally better.  Well, at least until I tell her about my latest epic.)

Get excited, it’s almost time for the MIT Climbing Competition! (Okay, it’s not almost time, but the dates were just announced, so I thought I’d spread the word a bit.)  It doesn’t matter whether you’ve climbed a little, a lot, or not at all. Good food, good music, good times, and great prizes will all be provided. So, April 11th and 12th, clear your calendars and I’ll see you there!

This week’s winter school adventure was my first time ice climbing! As I’ve told my mother, I’m convinced that ice climbing is an inherently unsafe activity and it really can’t be safe. I should have clarified: more extreme ice climbing is an inherently unsafe activity due to the variability and instability of really vertical or waterfall ice. Maybe I’m just justifying my activities now…

Anyway, in true MITOC tradition, Woody and Polly led us in a slow and heavy trip. It took most of the day to make it up the mountain with two technical pitches on the way up and three raps on the way down. Nevertheless, it was a great intro to ice climbing. We hiked about a mile south from the Crawford Notch AMC center, following the train tracks. Then we turned right and headed up Mount Willard. The next 45 minutes was very steep hiking, requiring crampons but no ice tools (except for one tricky ice bulge).

The first pitch of ice really turned out to be a mix of snow, ice, and a bit of mixed climbing at the end, something near WI2. It turned out to be a good intro, and the bit of mixed climbing at the end was challenging, and fun too. It was funky figuring out how crampons felt on rock. The second pitch was straight ice, WI3, and a ton of fun. I don’t know what else to say. Other than a slight case of the screaming barfies as my hands thawed out, the climb was just awesome. Plus, being roped in on the side of a mountain always feels good.

We took three raps and some hiking we made it back to the railroad tracks. By that time the temperature had dropped, and the wind kicked up making the hike back to the cars a bit chilly (my eyelashes kept freezing together when I blinked). We made it back safe and sound, though. Now I’m just looking forward to my next ice climbing adventure. (Sorry Mom!)

For pictures, check out the flickr set or the galleries page.

I’ve thought this was a good idea for a while, but I feel like the US is too litigious a society for actual implementation.  Some lucky students in the Netherlands have their dorm outfitted with climbing holds:

Wouldn’t it be sweet if the side of the Green Building had holds bolted on?  MITOC could administer it and everything (run training courses, provide equipment, etc. similar to how the bouldering room is currently run).  Admittedly more realistic is something like this:

Until then, I’ll keep playing in the MIT bouldering room, on the chapel and the wall behind Bexley.  Also, I’ll keep dreaming about REI or EMS installing one of these alongside their indoor sport climbing walls.

Artificial Ice Climbing

All photos taken from www.eikongraphia.com, photos link to the original posts in which they appear.  Credit to the climbers [at] mit list and Jessica Lam for sparking this train of thought.

Seeing Dean’s post (here) made me curious what my travels look like geographically.  Within the country (click to enlarge):

And the world:

Like Dean, I think it’d be nice to see a little bit more of the southern part of the US.  More importantly, I think that in all my travels I haven’t gotten to know the people nearly as well as I would’ve liked.  There’s a lot left to see in this world and many people to meet.  I haven’t gone on any really exciting trips in almost two years now.  Of course South Africa is on the list for 2010, and I should be able to hop around Europe a bit this summer…maybe Asia is next on my leisure trip list.  Who knows, maybe I could even get some climbing done in Thailand?

Maps taken from Wikipedia and customized 29 December 2008.

In between bouldering problems yesterday I was reading a back issue of Rock and Ice magazine (R&I), probably from about 5 years ago.  At the beginning was a really interesting letter to the editor.  I don’t have the exact text, but the author was very upset with RI for an article it had published in an earlier edition.  From what I could gather, the article in question described climbing in Yosemite, and how to avoid authorities while living in the Valley for months at a time.  The letter-writer pointed out that, to date, the transient community was what it was because only adventurous and “non-risk-adverse” people take a chance and try to live in Yosemite.  Furthermore, only the clever ones figure it out!  By publishing, essentially, a how-to guide, R&I threatened the composition of that community, inviting a different sort of folk to try things that they wouldn’t have previously risked.

Essentially this boils down to a question of how available information should be.  By publishing the article, R&I made widely available information that was previously only available by word of mouth to those who had demonstrated serious commitment.  In the internet age, information, specifically advice, is more widely available than ever before.  More and more people are becoming empowered in ways never previously considered.  Without a doubt, empowering people is one of the great successes of the internet.

This train of thought reminded me of a line from The Incredibles.  Syndrome, the bad guy , is a non-superhero, spurned as a child by Mr. Incredible.  Later in life he developed a number of technological solutions designed to allow him to compete with supers.  This leads Syndrome to exclaim “Everyone can be super! And when everyone’s super…no one will be!”

But is that true?  It certainly seems to be what the letter-writer thought.  To some extent I think they’re right, widespread availability of information ought to  level the playing field significantly.  Really, though, this should just allow the true elite to emerge, including those who might have previously been disadvantaged.  Yes, this will result in people trying things they would never have before considered.  Unlike the writer that got me started on this train of thought, I don’t think that is necessarily a bad thing, though.

This is a complex and nuanced issue, I think, and I don’t pretend to do a full analysis, that would take much more time and space than either you or I really want, I think.  Obviously information is a powerful thing, and it needs to be dispensed carefully in some situations, but in most cases I support openness.  At the same time, there will always bee some secrets.  Some things need to stay magic.  Sometimes you need to “never show anyone. They’ll beg you and they’ll flatter you for the secret, but as soon as you give it up… you’ll be nothing to them.” [The Prestige]

(And for your non-climbers reading this, beta is climbing slang for tips that will help you get up a route.  The perpetual beta status of gmail is an entirely different subject.)