Date: September 30th, 2006
The every-other day program on Yam is in effect, it’s just too much of a physical battle to get up there more than every other day. The climbing, hiking, hauling, cleaning, it just all adds up into a rest day after a day on Yam.
On Wed. Kevin and I had a go at it, and managed to redpoint the second pitch, likely the hardest on the route. We then headed up to pitch five (third “hard” pitch for me), which had me pretty freaked out, I sent down a lot of big flakes but there was one on there that seemed suspect and possily rope-cutterish… With Kevin on the belay I was able to send the flake down in large pieces, amazing to watch coffee-table size rocks fall 500 feet to the scree, it just winds me up every time. We do a double-check on the trail before every rock goes down, the possibilities are horrifying (we’re just doing big cleaning on week days). I managed to almost redpoint pitch five after the cleaning session, but it took a mental leap to start just dynoing and really climbing. I pitched off near the anchor, there’s a heart-breaker last move on the smooth side of a dihredal, but I was super-psyched to put most of it together. It’s so hard for me to go from drilling off hooks and sending down big blocks to busting out wild moves, but the climbing sort of sucks me in once I get going, the exposure becomes less relevant and the joy of the movement takes over. Until a hold breaks… Kevin did well on the fourth pitch, it’s sure fun to watch other people get excited about the pitches we’ve worked on to clean up into decent climbing. I had another battle cleaning the sixth pitch, but figured out how to do almost all of the moves, it has the potential to be the hardest pitch on the climb to redpoint I think…
Today (Friday) Cory and I went back, it’s his day five and my day six on the route this year. We opted to try rapping off the top to clean up what Raph and I had rap-bolted four years ago. That all went well and relatively quickly as the rock is generally excellent, still vertical to overhaning but with good holds when needed. We had planned to try and redpoint pitches 5-8, but it got more complicated when we discovered that a 70M rope hung totally free from the top of the sixth pitch… This climb is steep! Eventually Cory and I managed to get established down on the “lunch ledge” below pitch 4 and he had a good go on pitch 4, he’ll redpoint it soon. I top-roped up behind him to warm up and then had a battle to send pitch 5, it has so much good climbing on it, three distinct cruxes–one power to get over a roof/corner, one super-tech but overhanging, and one desperate finishing “overhanging slab.” From the ground it seems so unlikely that any line could go through those roofs, but with a lot of dihedral climbing and monkeying about it works! It took all I could do to finish pitch 5 off to the anchor stance on redpoint, one of those fingers uncurling on a jug battles, super fun (all anchors are at hands-free stances). Cory followed it, and then I had a go at pitch six, which slapped me around. Multiple cruxes, crazy three-dimensional moves, I think it’s my favorite pitch on the climb so far. The final moves go from the wild overhangs of the roof pitches onto the 300-foot headwall at the top, which should be more reasonable, but there’s a real bastard of a move to get established on the headwall, it took me some time to figure it out. It seems sort of V5ish, not so hard on the ground with a nice mat and a cold drink, but after all the earlier climbing on pitch six, well, it took all I had to sort it out on the dog. The last two pitches should go at more or less 5.11-low-end 5.12, or at least I hope they do, there is just so much intensive climbing on this route!
Tonight I’m just pounded, but looking forward to starting serious redpoint burns soon. I hope this route becomes popular and makes others laugh with the exposure and climbing as we have, the moves and crazy positions (at one point you do a big step-out onto a good hold with about 700 feet of nothing but air directly below the toes!) are unlike anything I’ve ever climbed, so much damn fun! The fall colors add to the scene too, when we first went up on on the route the trees in the valley were just showing hints of yellow, now the leaves are mostly on the ground with only the rare renegade tree flying brilliant colors. Fall is a glorious season, my favorite in the mountains, the blue sky, yellow leaves, it’s like a perfect desert or cold beer for the mind. It’s days like these I’ve had on Yam this season that help make life worthwhile for me, climbing is awesome, I feel damn lucky to have these days in the memory bank. Now it’s time to try a bottom-to-top ascent; I’d be OK with doing it in sequence over a couple of days, but it would be cooler to send it all in a day. I’ve done bigger routes on perfect rock, but Yam has it’s own vibe, it seems to take more to climb hard up there for me, but the rewards are so good.
WG
PS–thanks for the notes, it motivates me to write these ramblings and share the joy of Yamineering.
Also, we planned to climb back to the top but didn’t have time, so we left Cory’s pack on top of the route… Please leave it there if you’re in the area. I also tried to remove the misplaced bolt on Balrog the other day but destroyed a crowbar in the process, I’m heading back up with a hacksaw and some expoxy for the hole next go. The crowbar did a BASE jump, let me know if you find it…
Posted in: Blog
Date: September 26th, 2006
Well, after the snow melted out around here Cory and I got back up on Yam for another couple of days of it. On Saturday we cleaned the fifth pitch and bolted the sixth pitch–both are crazy steep and technical, the rocks I was dropping (after checking to make sure there was nobody on the trail below!) went all the way to the scree, that’s about 700 feet of free fall! Cleaning and bolting on lead were a bit sketchy as many of the blocks were directly over my head, the position and “freak factor” was really high. Sooner or later I’m going to learn to relax up there, right now it’s still a bit much. Some of the blocks are so big that I’m worried the whole damn climb is going to fall off the face of Yam–not likely, but that’s the sort of scenarios that start running through my mind… But the cool part was connecting into a bolt from the “low point,” the spot where Raph and I had rap-bolted to about five years ago. I was fully freaked out from drilling off hooks on lead, it was mega to reach up and clip a pre-existing bolt just as it got dark. I then started to fix the rope and rap off into the dark, but was so freaked that I put in another bolt, couldn’t see doing it off one bolt. One bolt can look mighty insignifcant when preparing to rap off it in the twilight WAY over the ground… Two just felt so much nicer.
Yesterday the climbing started to feel reasonable for the first time, I worked the second pitch (Big Ass Roof) and was able to put it together in big links. It’s a very physical pitch, but the biggest difference is that I finally started to relax and enjoy the climbing instead of hanging on for dear life. The exposure is wild–it doesn’t make much different above about 100 feet whether there’s 100 or 500 feet of air below your feet, but my mind just doesn’t listen to logic. I finally started to forget about the air below, handholds breaking, the rope getting cut on some edge (very blocky climbing, the rope is always over an edge) and all the other worries and just focus on the movement. Sarah, a strong local Canmore climber, came up to sample the climb, it was good to get her perspective on the moves as she has climbed a lot on Yam. Cory took some photos as well, I’m fired up to see them, get more of an open perspective on the climbing instead of, “How the hell do I reach the next hold?” I managed to redpoint the fourth pitch at around 12c, it’s bouldery but with a good sequence not so bad, just gunning through moves to keep the pump at bay. I think it’s the best pitch I’ve ever climbed on Yam, good rock and stellar position, it fired me up. I also worked the fifth pitch a bit, I was concerned it wouldn’t go but managed to do all the moves including a super-thin dihedral at the just before the belay. That sequence has the potential to be a heart-breaker on the eventual redpoint–you could get through the inital overhanging thuggery, clean the loose section with small holds,then fly off if a foot blew at the every end of the pitch. The climbing is super-technical due to the three-dimensional nature of the rock–foot way over there, oppose here, dyno there, it’s a bit like Rifle mixed with Malham in England with a touch of Thai-style three-dimension or something, it’s different than any other limestone climbing I’ve done. The rock is generally OK, but rope-drag is a problem because the line seldom goes straight up, it’s all over the place, like a three-dimensional maze for human rats. We hope to go back up tomorrow and work on some more cleaning, I can’t manage two days in a row because the whole experience is so physical it just destroys my body–I’ve got some elbow tendonitis and a tweaked finger, it’s a race against winter and physical injury to get this rig done. It will be eight pitches, with only one of 5.10 to start…
PS–dD just sent me this link, holy shit!
Posted in: Blog
Date: September 21st, 2006
The last day of the HERA event started in the gym again due to the occasional rain squalls and general cold (40 degrees according to a bank sign…) weather. My group went to the Front gym, and beat ourselves silly for a few hours. I love plastic bouldering, it just winds me up every time. Some people deride plastic climbing as “boring.” Over the years I’ve found that most people who don’t enjoy plastic can be slotted into one of two basic camps: The unimaginative, who see only plastic dots and tape and not the fantastic movement between them, and the weak, who find the distilled strength of plastic bouldering ego-destroying. I can always go climb somewhat difficult routes (for me that’s 5.11) even after six months of turning into a sloth while sitting under my paraglider, but I’ll get slapped down by the junior youth team’s warm-up problems in the gym after a long absence… Plastic demands power and skilled movement, most rock climbing up to about 5.something demands skilled movement. I’ll always take a good day of climbing outside over climbing plastic, but my life is often a mess of time problems and work projects, plastic satiates my climbing lust. Anyhow, I like plastic, it was fun to share that enjoyment with the HERA women, one of whom is a bit older and hadn’t done much plastic bouldering but was sending by the end of the morning with a smile, cool.
In the afternoon a brief sunhsine patch suckered us into Little Cottonwood, where we had at a classic corner in the Dihderals area. It wasn’t too difficult, 5.7 or something, but it was wet and it started sleeting pretty heavily by the top of it, I was kind of sketched out clearing the slush out of the crack with my feet on wet granite, 5.7 can be pretty damn hard some days. Our group was down to 2, but they both sent it, thanks to Dave for all the help, getting out and doing that route wouldn’t have happened with his enthusiasm despite the weather. On the flight home through Denver the Wasatch was covered in snow, I kept expecting to see tracks in some bowl, same for the Rockies all the way home to Canmore. There’s still snow in my yard, the only one who seems psyched is the dog…
We’re off the Yamnation project until the weather improves, which it looks like it might for Saturday and Sunday, we’ll see. I’ve had a couple of decent short sessions outside and at the gym, but I’m fighting a bit of a tendon tweak and also something in my elbow. I can always tell when I’m at my peak fitness, it’s a delicate dance between climbing too much and getting really injured, or not climbing enough and starting the slide away from top fitness.
Yesterday we actually made it to the Yam parking lot before realizing we were too late (funny how coffee can turn into coffees…), we simply didn’t have the fire and thought the cliff would be under snow. It wasn’t, we could likely have climbed a bit before the weather totally went to hell. We set up the spotting scope and could actually see one of the bolts from our “low” point, it looks like it’s only about 10M from our “high” point, so that fired us up a bit, linkage is close. I think we have a minimum of four more days to get the route done, one to bolt/work the lower pitches, then another for final tweaking, then two more to redpoint the rig. I’m learning each pitch as we climb to the high point and then bolt a bit, but most seem really hard. I want to get this rig done before winter sets in like a frozen skating rink, I don’t know when the next time will be that I have this level of fitness… The last time I could onsight and redpoint well on rock was about 2001, so it might be a while. Pressure is good.
Posted in: Blog
Date: September 16th, 2006
I’m down in Salt Lake City to help out with an event for HERA, a group of climbers and friends dedicated to raising money for ovarian cancer research. Cancer has been on my mind a lot lately as a good friend is currently fighting it, my family has been smacked around by it over the years, and it’s suddenly seemingly everywhere. I take strength from my friends and family who have fought it off, and others who fought hard against a strong foe. HERA is a cool group of people united against something big, it’s good to be a part of it. HERA has a large climbing component, and while I love climbing it’s ultimately a somewhat hedonistic thing to do. It’s nice to see the energy of climbing pooled and focused to swing some blows against cancer. The group down here has raised over $140,000.
I’ve been running non-stop since I arrived here, various events and the added confusion of getting rear-ended in a rainstorm. It’s the first accident I’ve been involved with in about 20 years–no serious damage to any people, but the rental car isn’t looking so new anymore. Fortunately no one was seriously hurt, but if the three-car pileup had gone a little sideways I could have wound up in the oncoming traffic. Getting randomly slapped around by the universe make me think about the fragility of our lives, even doing something (as compared to a lot of the other stuff in the adventure’ junkie’s life) safe like driving on a city street. I was stopped behind a car that was turning left when a young guy just blew it and stacked into the car behind me, which then hit my Hyundai rental… It was a really intricate loud noise, and my neck is a bit cranked but seems to be OK. The other two drivers were nice people, and it turned into a bit of a funny situation as we stood around in the rain waiting for the cops and tow trucks. I think we were all relieved that it worked out OK–all three cars were small, I shudder to think what have happened if we had been hit by an F350 crew cab instead of a small car. I’m suddenly a lot more paranoid about driving, there was nothing I could do to prevent the accident as I was stopped and boxed in. The impact force was impressive to experience.
Today we took our HERA group into the climbing gym as the thunderstorms were booming, and got worked. I had the pleasure of bouldering with a very young guy (early teens? 12?) who was strong as all hell and climbing brilliantly. It was cool to watch his rubber-like limbs flail upward with some sort of weird kid-precision movement, as though a force field of lower gravity and less inertia turned on when he pulled off the ground. We were working on a sloper problem from hell and both getting slapped around when I got frustrated and said, “Sheesh, I suck!” The kid looked at me with a clear smile and said, “No, you don’t suck, I don’t suck, we just haven’t done this yet.” The kid’s comment hit home. We don’t suck ’cause we can’t do a problem, we just can’t do it right then, and the problem has no bearing on the overall scheme of life. I liked that. He did the problem a few tries later, while I just haven’t done it yet. Thanks for the wisdom young master…
Posted in: Blog
Date: September 12th, 2006
I really like putting up new routes, whether it’s rock, ice, mixed or alpine. There’s just something fun about heading up into totally unknown terrain that’s fired me up for over 20 years. The best new routes follow amazing lines into the sky through slight weaknesses in a mountain’s best defenses. Raphael and I started work on a line up the steepest part of Yamnuska about eight years ago (just right of Balrog). We averaged slightly less than a pitch each fall as we started to get fit for rock climbing, then the snow would fly and we would think, “Next spring we’ll get that one done!” But then spring rolled around and we were fit for hanging off ice tools but not small edges, and it became a fall project again, repeat for the last eight years. Raph and I managed about five trips up Yam, plus I got up there once with Kevin W. on a bitterly cold day, but nothing has been done for the last two years. This year I have some decent rock fitness at the end of the summer, so I’m fired up to make some progress…
This fall I’ve managed to get two good days into the Yam project, both with Cory, while Raph is building rock strength after an alpine trip to Pakistan. The first day (“Yam Day 7”) we cleaned up the first five pitches, took down old fixed ropes (nobody had been high on the route for almost four years, and the ropes we had fixed were trashed) and worked the moves on the hard pitches, which is everything after the first two. It was a long, hard day complicated by having to haul a drill, two batteries, four ropes, a rack of normal gear plus pins, etc. up to a ledge at the top of pitch four. The climbing is really hard, continuous 5.11-5.13, and it just beat the hell out of us in a satisfying way.
Yesterday (Yam Day 8) Cory and I went up again. The weather was cold in Canmore in the morning, down jackets and heat on in the car cold, but warmed up to scorching in the sun by the time we hit the big ledge where our haul bags were. The first crux pitch, which we’re calling the Big Ass Roof, or BAR for short, felt good, I linked it together with a few hangs. It’s full-on swinging in space thuggery between decent holds, with a lot of exposure. The fourth pitch is supposed to be relatively easy, but it’s run out and technical 5.11+, I had to grab a draw at one point when I rushed the super-technical movement.
We managed to bolt another 30M above our high point–it’s a wild position, drop a rock and it goes 200M to the scree below. Bolting on lead is always an adventure–I wanted to space the bolts farther apart than just a bolt ladder, so on terrain that steep it meant drilling off of sketchy hooks or bad blades, spurts of free climbing with a heavy drill and rack to a sketchy stance, just full-on combat. As the sun set I put in a belay about 20M from the lip of the big roof section and fixed a static, it’s a crazy-ass place up there! A few years ago Raph and I broke with ethics after one of Yam’s illustrious pioneers asked, “Why are you bolting ground up? Wouldn’t it be more logical to do that on rap?” We had felt honor-bound to bolt grond up to that point, but our defenses fell apart like wet bread… We hiked to the top of our route and rap-bolted two pitches, but were then unable to continue rap-bolting down through the roofs, it’s just too steep. We called our rap-down point our “low point,” it just didn’t seem the same and in retrospect I’d like to have bolted the whole thing on lead. Now we’re only about 20M from reaching our “low point,” but can’t tell where it is–there’s a good chance we’ll pop out of the roofs in a different place than we intended to, the mid-section of the route is a maze of massive roofs and corners with no reference. The remaining 20M of climbing looks (again!) super steep and powerful. The 5th and 6th pitches have the most amazing exposure I’ve ever felt on a climb, swinging out roofs, delicate arettes, I keep hanging on too tight–that’s an instinct that will need to be overcome for free-climbing success. Most of the rock is good, but it wouldn’t be Yamineering without some quality choss–I took a good 25-footer when a handhold broke the the other day, it’s always exciting on Yam!
This is probably the last trip up Yam this week as I’m heading down to Utah to help out with a HERA climbing event on Thursday, and the weather is supposed to be poor tomorrow. Cory and I talked about heading up again today, but we’re both destroyed. I have intricate bruises on my hips and shoulder from aiding and climbing with all the weight, plus my skin is again thrased. My lead took two hours to get 30M of new route done, thanks to Cory for his patience and enthusiasm, it’s hard to find partners who are up for the commitment level of big-walling on limestone. We staggered down the trail last night with various ailments ranging from suburn to mangled feet, it’s rare to feel that pounded. Only another 20M to go, and then it will be time to try and redpoint nine pitches of climbing, of which at least four are hard 5.12 or 5.13, and all the rest 5.11 except for the short opening pitch. It’s a lot of climbing to do free in one day… Let’s hope the weather holds into October, it’s going to take some time.
We’ve also got some re-organizing to do, including getting rid of a bolt we mistakenly placed on Balrog for a belay on an early attempt. Balrog should not have bolts added to it obviously, so that will be coming out, my apologies to anyone who was bothered by the bolt.
Posted in: Blog
Date: September 6th, 2006
Sun Valley was a hell of a lot of fun, with five solid flying days out of seven, amazing conditions. Paragliding comps are always good fun when the flying is on, if all comps were like Sun Valley I’d go to everyone, it’s always a total learning experience. I didn’t do all that well, but then again none of last year’s top five were in the top five this year. I’m going to do some thinking about paragliding comps, mainly along the lines of, “Are they totally random or can a pilot figure out how to win them regularly?” Hang Gliding competitions generally have one or two pilots who manage to place on the podium, but paragliding comps generally produce wildly variable results. I don’t know what the difference is,but I’d like to figure it out. Thanks to all the pilots at Sun Valley, the meet organizers and the crew I hung out with, it was fun!
On Sunday we took another go at the Lava Tube on the way home, I sent the thugfest 5.13 that had been slapping me around. Although I was only able to climb three days in 10 I don’t think I lost a tremendous amount of fitness, it felt good on the redpoint even though my skin was tattered. Dave Bingham reportedly opened up the routes in the Lava Tube, thanks for doing that, we had an awesome time there. It was crazy hot Sunday, but the tube was still nice and cool, strange to feel the temp go from about 95 on the surface down to about 60 in the very bottom of the cave, you actually had to wear a sweatshirt belaying. Amazing.
I’m back at home and aiming for a route I’ve been working on Yamnuska, it’s a big rig with many hard pitches, the focus is now fitness and work to get it done.
Posted in: Blog
Date: September 2nd, 2006
Still cold here, so another late start with relatively stable conditions. The last two tasks have involved flying across the main valley and then over a small pass, and yesterday was the same program except we couldn’t get very high on launch, so made the first glide a bit low. I worked hard at launch to get high, but it just wasn’t there. I started a bit behind the main gaggle, but basically just flew straight across the valley and only worked the strong lift, and soon found myself at the top of the lead gaggle as we got ready for the pass. One glider got out in front and it seemed to be working for him, so I went into chase mode. The climbs were working really well for me, and soon I was a thermal and glide ahead of the lead gaggle and catching what turned out to be Josh Waldrop. The first turpoint was at about 40K, Wildcat Mountain, and we’d had a battle going south from there on task 3 so I was a bit nervous, especially after watching Waldrop sink out under me. But the climbs were working really well to this point… I waited for one full thermal cycle for the gaggle to catch up to me, only to see Eric Reed and Keith Mac come in under me and sink out. I really wanted someone to fly with for the section south of Wildcat, but with Josh, Eric and Keith gone I started slowly working south figuring the lead gaggle would catch me shortly, but they got stuck on Wildcat… The air felt much more stable, and I just wasn’t connecting with good climbs. I bobbled along then got flushed down the side of the ridge into Copper Basin without hitting anything going up–4,000 feet of sink, crazy. A few other people got flushed with slightly more altitude than me and climbed out over my head, then I watched the entire lead gaggle fly slowly over my head, cautiously circling and moving slowly. It’s moments like these that can drive me to madness in paragliding comps…
I should have waited for the gaggle, I knew the next 40K would be tough, but it’s hard to go from race mode to caution mode. I did slow down, but in that kind of stable air a gaggle is the only way through. File it under lessons learned. Josh Cohn and one other pilot made it to goal, good work!
I’m now out of the hunt for any sort of top-five placing–I really need to compete more regulary to do well, I haven’t been focused on paragliding competitions this year and it shows. We might have one more task today, that would be fun!
Posted in: Blog
Date: September 1st, 2006
It’s really cold here–yesterday morning the sprinklers were encasing the green lawns in ice as we drove into Sun Valley. Launch was moved back an hour to let things warm up, but the thermals were still pretty weak as we slowly climbed out. I was quite concerned with the winds aloft, which were predicted to be very strong. I’ve flown enough in Idaho to know that high winds aloft can sometimes drop down to the ground and provide a high-quality ass-kicking. We went over Trail Creek again, and there was a bit of a shear at around 11,000 feet but nothing too nasty. Overall the air was substantially more “growly” than it had been on task 2–Brian commented, “It’s clear that when launch is nasty the air is nice, and when launch is nice the air is nasty.” Weird.
We had a good aggressive pace going to about the 40K mark, when the day really slowed down. A few pilots went to 17,000 feet and did a long glide to goal, but most of of us battled for the last 20K. I could see there was a valley wind at goal, so took my final climb until my 5020 said I had goal at a 4:1 glide. Of course I came in 2000 feet over the ground like an idiot (waste of time), but I was not going to come up short on my final glide as several pilots did. The Red Bull six-wheel drive vehicle was there with music and a barbecue, pretty good scene. I haven’t seen yesterday’s results, but things are going to be shaken up pretty seriously due to the top two pilots not making goal. Matt Dadam is likely in first, he had a great day, as did Tom McCune and the hungry Josh Cohn. It was another crazy good day of flying here, and today and tomorrow are both supposed to be better. I’m packing more clothes today, it was below freezing at 14,000 feet, my feet are stil cold. Nicole McLearn had an interesting landing and hike out, we were a bit worried until she finally showed up around 10:00 last night, her story is here. Time to go up the hill and get it on again!
Posted in: Blog
