bpope’s blog

Background reading: YDS grading (see 3rd and 4th class)
For future climbers: check out the galleries or flickr set for images of maps and pictures with our route drawn in.

After successfully making it up both Mt. Whitney and Mt. Shasta, I turned my sights towards another of California’s 14ers. I bought Porcella and Burns’ “Climbing California’s Fourteeners” and pored over it, trying to identify a mountain and route that would be both doable and exciting. Immediately Mt. Williamson and Mt. Tyndall looked really fun, but they are closed for most of the year (big horn sheep). The next thing that caught my eye was Thunderbolt Peak, specifically its 5.8+ summit block. A close second was Middle Pal, which looked like a great hike over varied terrain, with awesome alpine lakes along the way. I couldn’t decide, but the Inyo National Forest quota system decided for me…no reservable permits for Thunderbolt, but plenty of space on the way to Middle Pal.

Sweet. All that was left was actually figuring out where to camp and which trail to hike, right? After picking up our wilderness permit via “nightbox” service at the White Mountain Ranger Station, Kurt and I stayed at Sage Flat Campground, just west of Big Pine, on Friday night, rolling in at about 1:30am. We slept in until about 9 before driving just a little further up the road to the parking lot labeled “Trailhead Parking.” It occurred to me then that I really didn’t know much about the trail we were supposed to take, except that it was called the South fork of Big Pine Creek. I also knew we were taking the “East Face” route detailed by Porcella and Burns. Critical missing piece of information: where did it all start?

Just past the latrine at the parking lot, though, was this helpful sign. TRAIL it proclaimed. Well, that had to be right, we figured. So we locked up the trusty PT Cruiser and set off optimistically into the already hot morning. I knew somewhere in the back of my head that we were looking for a sign that pointed out the split between the North Fork and South Fork trail. So, pretty soon, Kurt and I were excited to find the sign for the North Fork. But where was the South Fork to be found? It seemed we weren’t even on the map yet, so it turned out to be pretty useless. We decided to follow the creek because the other option turned into a road. After another 20 minutes, we figured the trail we were on was just a fishermen’s use trail. So, we about faced, and decided to try our luck along the road, which turned out to head exactly where we wanted to. Another 10 minutes brought us to the sign we were looking for, and we were finally off in the right direction. Great start to the trip: wandering unsure of our direction for an hour. And we were supposed to eventually go cross-country? Uh-oh…

Google Earth image of our route. Day 1 in green, Day 2 in red

Lesson for future hikers: if you can, just start from the Glacier Lodge, it makes everything super easy. Drop your packs there, bring the car back to “Trailhead Parking,” and walk back along the road. If you decide to start on the trail from the Trailhead Parking lot you’re already on the North Fork trail. You’ll want to hang a left when you see a campsite/picnic area on your left about 15-20 minutes after leaving the parking lot. Cross the bridge just past the picnic area and follow the trail as it angles left off of the road. This will eventually bring you to where the North and South Fork trails diverge. There’ll be a sign there that looks something like this:

The split of the North Fork and South Fork trails.

The hiking was nice and easy for the first hour or two on the South Fork. We stopped at the wilderness boundary for lunch, as our stomachs were rumbling and it was just before the uphill began ernest. There, we were passed some by trailhead-bound backpackers who had originally set their sights on Mt Sill but turned around. “It’s a f***ing long hike!” they exclaimed, obviously happy to be heading downhill. Fortunately, our approach was a bit shorter than theirs, and we were optimistic as we got back to hiking. The trail was very clear and straightforward, with the only annoyance being the seeming cloud of mosquitoes that descended upon as as we moved past Willow Lake — definitely put on bug spray if the area is at all wet!

Despite being a bit bothered by the altitude, Kurt kept up fine and pretty soon we were at Brainerd Lake. I saw a few cairns, and so we followed these for a bit until they petered out. Instead, we headed up the boulder field and found ourselves at Finger Lake not too long afterwards. For those seeking an easier time, or if you don’t like boulders, there is a reasonably well-used trail all the way from Brainerd Lake to Finger Lake. Personally, I thought the boulders were fun, and good warm-up for the following day. Kurt might disagree with me. Tip: there is a use trail, lightly marked by cairns, which we found on the way down. If you can find this your way will be a little bit easier and minimize the distribution of impact.

Kurt coming up the boulder field, with Willow Lake in the background.

We made camp at the north end of Finger Lake, where there are a few great camping areas. There, we ran into Brian, who also had his sights set on Middle Pal. He was planning on going up the “Northeast Face” route detailed in Secor’s guide, and also helpfully illustrated by several trip reports on SummitPost. The route description sounded really similar to ours, except for one critical difference: the start. Porcella and Burns instructs you to go to the far right (west) of the Middle Palisade Glacier. This is wrong. Begin by going up the morraine in the center of the glacier and you’ll be fine. Since Brian was alone, and seemed to know what he was doing, the three of us decided to team up for the trip to the summit.

While we planned on getting up at 6 to make a solid attempt at the summit, Kurt and I both knew that if we wanted to make it back home at a reasonable hour, we didn’t have much of a shot at the summit. No matter, we figured if nothing else, we’d make it to the glacier and then turn around; no reason to waste a beautiful day of hiking in the Sierra. We started up the slabs across the lake (to the west) in the early morning light. We definitely didn’t take the easiest route up (probably 4th class), but it was fairly direct and it managed to let us gain a substantial amount of time on the pair that had left camp about half an hour ahead of us. We saw them take a turn to the right and head for the western-most side of the Middle Pal Glacier (where a large wall separates it from the Norman Clyde Glacier). The day before, we had spoken with them and they had planned on doing the same route we were headed for. Either they were headed for something else, or they messed up their route-finding. In any case, after we had headed in the right direction, we saw them begin their descent.

We finally were ready to turn onto snow (the eastern portion of the Middle Palisade Glacier) at about 10:00. Kurt thought we should turn around.  Brian (who turned out to be a great trip-partner) was psyched about continuing, and I wanted to go, too.  I asked for another 30 minutes. “I only want to touch the start,” I said, knowing full-well what happens if you give a mouse a cookie. Soon we found ourselves at the base of an unlikely set of ledges. “What if we turn around at 11:30 instead?” I proposed. Kurt was pretty excited to try to reach the summit by now, too (as I had hoped) so before he could change his mind I launched up the 4th class ledge and was around the corner, looking up Secor’s chute. From here on it was sustained, exposed 3rd class climbing. Some of the rock was rotten, and much of it was loose, but careful hand and foot placements meant that I wasn’t raining rocks down upon my followers. I was in heaven. Even when it got windy near the top, I felt great: exhilarated but also completely in control of my head. If only I could feel this way every time I climbed!

This is sorta what it looked like going up.

We topped out just before our “final turnaround” time of 11:30. The ridge was absolutely incredible. Nothing in front or behind you, except for thousands of feet of air. A knife-edge ridge stretching to left and right. Sun shining. Slight breeze blowing. Just awesome. It is in moments like that in which every negative thought on the way up vanishes. It is memories of that moment that make every sore muscle and blister after the trip seem not so bad at all. That is what keeps me coming back.

As we relaxed and munched on dried mango (protip: always go with Philippine brand) Brian pointed out that had he been leading up the mountain, his self preservation instincts would have turned him around long ago. Fortunately I have repressed most of those instincts. That led to a short discussion of what our mothers would think…I think mine has given up worrying too much, and would be happy to see me happy. Or, at least, she doesn’t let me know she worries too much. Of the three of us, my mom is definitely the most okay with my trips to mountaintops

And down we go...

Now just for the trip down. Always a little trickier than the way up, as the adrenaline ebbs and you’re forced to face the thousand foot drop in front of you. Again, I was just having an awesome time. Kurt and Brian exhaled deeply as we finally made it back to the glacier. There we also saw another pair of climbers’ footprints (and trekking pole imprints). They had, apparently, turned around at the sight of the 4th class climbing. Either that, or they wanted to get home at a reasonable hour. So, out of the three parties attempting Middle Pal that day, we were the only succesful ones.

Heading down the Middle Pal Glacier. You should be able to pick out Kurt and Brian in the larger version.

In any case, Kurt didn’t rest easy for long though, the adventure wasn’t over. I took a few steps on the snow and promptly fell through, fortunately catching myself with my elbows. As my feet dangled over the bergschrund, I dragged myself onto the snow’s surface and rolled a little ways. Silly of me, I thought to myself: the snow had been softened by the warming rock. And if Kurt wasn’t scared of the snowy glacier before, he was now. Other than that, the rest of the trip back was largely uneventful, even if it felt long. Back at Finger Lake, we rested for a little bit, packed up camp, and headed back to the trailhead. Long hours in the car later (Kurt is a champ at long-distance driving), we pulled into Cupertino at about 2:30 in the morning. “See you at work in a few hours,” we said as we parted.

Quick nap back at camp before the rest of the trip to the trailhead.

As always, check out the galleries or the flickr set for more, and higher quality, pictures.

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.

Background info:  At 14, 505′ Mt Whitney is the tallest mountain in the contiguous United States.  We chose to take the Mountaineer’s Route up the mountain, a less popular, more strenuous, and in my opinion wayyyy more beautiful way up the mountain.  For more details about the route, check it out here.

I didn’t do my homework last summer.  In years and years of school I probably missed one homework assignment, maybe two at most, so it figures that not doing my homework would start to catch up with me outside of school.  Having not done my research, I had no idea what an early deadline there is to get permits for Whitney!  This year, though, I was prepared, I was going to get a permit!  Funny thing about a lottery, though…sometimes you don’t win.  Undeterred, my two coworkers and I had noticed that earlier in the season there were always lots and lots of no-shows.  So, we (Chris, Ethan and myself) took off on a likely seeming Friday afternoon, hoping that there would be a few less enthusiastic permit holders.

We drove a few hours from Cupertino to crash with a friend of mine in Fresno (thank you @teaganita).  The next morning, we awoke bright and early in order to get to the Lone Pine Ranger Station in time for the 11 o’clock lottery.  As it turned out, there weren’t any suitable permits for us available at 11, only overnight permits beginning the following day.  So, we decided to pick up some gear (crampons and axes at Lone Pine Sporting Goods…not too expensive and they did the job) and took a trip up to Whitney Portal to set up our tent at the Whitney Portal before returning later in the afternoon, hoping that there would be some no-shows.  As luck would have it, there were and we became the proud owners of three day-use permits for the Whitney Zone on Sunday.

Chris points out sea-level

We had time to kill, though.  It occurred to me that we weren’t far from the lowest point in the contiguous US and that we would be hiking to the highest point the next day.  So, naturally, we took off for Death Canyon National Park (which happened to be free that weekend!) and visited Badwater Basin and played on some sand dunes.  We made it back to the Portal, cooked dinner and sorted our gear, ready for a 3am departure.

Sand dunes in Death Valley

We hit the trail at 3:30 (who ever actually leaves on time?).  The trailhead is at about 8000′ and on the main trail takes its time winding up interminable switchbacks.  After making the turn off the main trail without issue, we discovered that the Mountaineer’s Route was not quite the same and headed uphill.  About half an hour or 45 minutes in, we ran into a little bit of trouble.  After missing a creek crossing, we headed up some steep granite.  At that point, all of us wished that we had actually read a description of the route more carefully…oops.  We eventually made our way back to the right route, but only after losing about 30 minutes.  Mis-step number 2 came at the base of the ledges.  We were split on the right way to go, and ended up taking the variation to the south of the creek instead of going up.  As the day grew lighter, I spied the more traveled route on the other side of the canyon, so we dropped back across the stream and bushwhacked across.  Finally we were on the right track!  Soon after crossing over, we ran into a pair of climbers coming down from the East Buttress who had been forced to bivy because they couldn’t find the ledges.  I shook my head at the bad luck these guys were having, but at least we weren’t the only ones who didn’t find the ledges in the dark.  Little did I know that they looked in good shape compared to what our party would deal with.

Sunrise from Lower Boy Scout Lake

As dawn broke, we found ourselves at Lower Boy Scout Lake, with plenty of trail left to go.  For the most part, the route was clear and easy to follow with cairns every once in a while  It was also easy to avoid snow all the way up to Iceberg Lake (at 12,000′).  After we passed Upper Boy Scout Lake, and approached Iceberg Lake, we angled to the right and stayed high, scrambling up a short class 3 section near a frozen waterfall that was actually pretty slick (It was a good boulder problem, I thought, but my partners found it a little unnerving).  Had we gone low, we wouldn’t have had the same obstacle to climb, but it would’ve taken longer to slog through a big snowfield.  In any case, the scramble deposited us on the lake’s plateau, where we took some time to rest and try to eat.  It was at this point that each of us began feeling the altitude at least a little, with some headaches and food tasting like sawdust in our mouths.

The ribbon in the center is the gully we ascended (approx 35 degree snow)

From the lake up was still covered in snow (and we had to chip ice before collecting our water), so we strapped on crampons and headed up the steep gully.  Since we were a little late in the day, the snow slope was a little soft, making the going a bit difficult.  When we reached the notch, we were informed by a guided group that had just descended that the traditional route was very icy.  Since Ethan was feeling weak, and Chris was new to crampons, we decided to take the less strenuous, and more straightforward, traverse to gain the summit plateau.  Once on the plateau, we each started moving at our own pace, since the path was clear and the worst of the hiking was behind us.  In retrospect, I really should have known better and we shouldn’t have spread out at all.  I reached the summit at about 2:30.  It was a beautiful day, and despite having a small headache, I couldn’t stop marveling at the views (Iceberg lake below, Lone Pine and the Whites in the distance, and the Sierra stretching out behind)

About 10 minutes later, Chris joined me on the summit, but Ethan didn’t arrive at the top until just past 3:00.  When he did arrive, he wasn’t in great shape…exhausted, with a headache, and feeling cold.  After a couple very quick photos, I got Ethan inside the summit shelter to try and warm up.  It was here I learned that he was a bit underprepared, at least part of his headache came from the fact that he hadn’t been wearing sunglasses all day.  Also, he had no hat or heavy jacket so he thought he didn’t have a way to get warm.  Fortunately, I wasn’t going for light and fast that day and I bundled him up in most of my layers until he started to perk up a bit.  I wasn’t sure if he was suffering from hypothermia or from the altitude, since they conveniently have the same symptoms, so I figured we ought to descend as quickly as possible.  Given the condition of our crew, we all decided the Main Trail was our most prudent route (and that’s what we had listed on our trip plan).

Chillin' at the summit.

As we moved slowly towards Trail Crest, I became more and more worried that we would have to negotiate the icy switchbacks in the dark.  To make things worse, Ethan became increasingly listless, continued to be unable to eat anything without vomiting (though he did try a few of my Clif bars), and had run through his own 3 liters of water in addition to one of mine.  Every step of the way I was keeping up a running chatter, wishing I could send Ethan more energy and willing him to concentrate.

Night fell as we hit the 99 switchbacks, and keeping Ethan conscious between steps was becoming increasingly difficult.  My patience was being severely tested, since he was completely incapable of focusing, which in addition to annoying me a little bit, was also making me more worried.  Once again, I bundled Ethan up in all of my layers (despite his insistence that he was not cold), which seemed to help a lot confirming at least a little hypothermia.  Finally, we made it to Trail Camp (where one resident had been following our headlamps’ progress down the mountain, wondering if we needed help).  There, we finally got more water and managed to get Ethan and Chris to eat something, which perked them both up (Chris had a small headache and nausea).

Since the trail was still partially covered in snow, and I was unfamiliar with the route, route finding was quite difficult for a few sections.  I figured it out, though, and the only challenge for the rest of the return was keeping one exhausted Ethan awake enough to continue the hike down.  Finally, at 4:30 on Monday morning, 25 hours after departing, we stumbled back to the car and promptly fell asleep in the seats.  Needless to say, we arrived at work a bit late on Monday (read: we created our own three day weekend), but at least we all returned safely.

I would like to highlight that this trip could easily have gone very wrong, and nearly did.  Fortunately, as a group, we were prepared enough for the situation, but even experienced hikers (like Ethan, who has extensive winter hiking experience, too) can make mistakes that put themselves and their partners at risk (i.e. not enough layers) because they think nothing will go wrong.  It’s also easy for the stronger members of the party (i.e. me) to miss signs that indicate turning back would be prudent.  It would’ve cost me a summit, but it probably would have been best for Ethan to turn around after we had reached the summit plateau. It is always helpful to remember those lessons.

On that note…awesome trip, amazing views, and fun to have gone from the lowest low to the highest high in the lower 48 in less than 24 hours.  I don’t think I’ll ever do the Whitney Trail up, and am looking forward to trying the East Buttress or East Face someday!

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.