Date: October 31st, 2006
One of the cool things about mountain sports is not just the climbing or whatever, but the people who are also into them. This was driven home to me recently by two emails I received. The first was from Raphael Slawinski, who spent the summer climbing in Pakistan with a few other friends of mine. Raph, AKA Dr. Slawinski (he actually is a PhD.) wrote a really nice trip report up on the whole experience andposted it here.
Then there’s my bud JD. He’s been at the climbing game for a long time, from the anorexic rice cakes era to the present, and always cared about it. We’ve had some epic conversations about climbing, climbers and life. He recently sent me the following. It’s full of the heat that climbing generates, posted with his permission:
JD LeBlanc’s Rant:
Climbing – Market, Athletes & Media
by JD LeBlanc
Sport climbing came of age in North America thanks mostly to Alan Watts and his creation of Smith Rocks in the mid-1980’s. This led to an influx of climbers realizing that sport climbing could be “it” for them. Companies were keen to sponsor climbers who excelled at the sport – with the intent that it would help them with revenue and market share. The biggest problem besides the egos and dubious feats, was the fact that the industry was still very small.
The size of the industry may have been in the six figures in the 80’s – now maybe in the sevens – and the focus was on mountains, not sport crags. We had huge competition for athletes to become sponsored, but no real market to sell to. The athletic drive became so high and the return, so low, that many simply bailed out of the sport. Instead of building on the sport, we were actually losing climbers. Losing climbers really means losing participants – decreasing the industry. Early to mid-90s – indoor gyms take off in North America. This really allows access to the general public and provides a way for them to try climbing and ultimately bring in participants. Now the athlete can forge a way to become a professional climber (PC) – simply because the market became broader and general revenue larger, an increase in the number of the general climber (GC) – maybe like the NHL in the 50’s – you get paid, but just enough to be able to climb and train. Buying a home, new vehicles, lavish living expenses … off of a sponsored climber salary – unlikely, but living the life – traveling and climbing could be attained.
The Athlete truly comes of age after 10+ years of climbers’ efforts. However, unlike other sports, to see the athlete in action on their turf, is pretty hard for the general climber (GC) – videos, dvds and the gym provide glimpses of the athlete/Pro Climber (PC). But does this really matter and help in the growth of the sport? To see an athlete in their turf is to see what can be done and why they apply so much effort to do such. Motion pictures, of some form, provide visual, but no feel. Gyms provide live action, but it is hard to see the real aspects of the athlete and climbing. Moving over stone, ice … is not the same as plastic/wood. The real nature of the medium and conditions provide the ultimate performance and showcase what can be done. The passion is seen and this provides the general climber (GC) with a picture of what they may be able to do. The fact if a pro-climber (PC) sends 5.14, is not lost, but truly irrelevant to the GC. The fact they send a project provides the base for the GC to start to realize, they can achieve. Once this happens, then they are hooked and will try to bring their own into the sport. The PC has then done the part and what their sponsors want – to increase the participation – hence revenue.
What makes a good PC and why bother? What makes a good PC is one who does the above – captivates the GC into realizing there own potential. The PC does not have to be the one sending 5.15, M14, WI7, V15, 5.14 RX or hard Alpine – they do need to be able to climb within the top of their discipline, but mostly need to captivate. This does not mean they need to spray about what they sent, how quickly, or leave out the facts of numerous years, but only the recent tries. They do need to be known – local word of mouth, media reports, blogs, websites, slide-shows, events, coaching …
I have been fortunate to be in the industry since the mid-80s and have also been on both sides, athlete and industry. Here’s the dilemma, some athletes who may not be the best climbers, but maybe the BEST PCs have issues with other top climbers (TC). The industry needs the best PC they can get – they just don’t need the best TC. Here’s why; I know a PC who is not the best TC, but damn it, he is the best for his sponsors and brings the captivation to the GC – he gets a lot of grief from the TCs. Yep, some of the TCs are still stuck in the early days and can’t get over the concept of the business. He drives many GCs to slideshows and events and is very active in climbing. Whether or not I like him all the time, is irrelevant – he provides to the sport what we need, captivation of the GC. The sport itself needs routes and goals to drive the TCs and PCs – but the industry needs the GC captivation foremost. Let’s face it Ford sells more Focuses than their $200,000 Ford GT.
So here’s the sport PC debate in North America – Chris Sharma or Dave Graham? Sharma has set standards, and created a captivation on the GC and TC like no other North American sport climber. Graham has sent almost every hard route in Europe and North America – he is truly the TC in North America, but I believe lacks the media savvy to captivate – this does not mean he can’t, just that he needs help on it. Sharma seems to have a way and it comes across as such. Hence Sharma is the PC to follow – Graham is a PC, but more on the TC end. The North American media is the best method for captivation, but in the recent years, has focused more on the TC side.
The North American climbing media has gone through the same changes that the TCs and PCs have done. Currently I believe they are not where they should be. They focus more on the TC side of things and forget about the PC side – how to captivate? V15, 8b+ onsights, 5.15 redpoints, M14 sends, Everest sieged again, or deep water soloing.
Does deep water soloing captivate? Sure it does if you are a TC and can get to Mallorca. I believe that it exemplifies all that the PC has worked to get OVER, as it is more captivating for the TC than the GC. This does not mean it’s not a feat of climbing. GCs like ropes, gear and the conception that they may be able to emulate the PC on their own route at their crag or gym. To me it answers the: “if a tree falls in the forest and no one hears it, does it make a sound?” The media has answered this – if a climber climbs a really hard route on a rock in the middle of an ocean, alone with no rope – does it matter? To the GC NO – Yes for the TCs. It really provides no captivation other than a personal climbing feat of wickedly high-end proportions. Here we are again at a dilemma of TC or PC.
Climbing is not at the same level as other sports, where competitions can hold Pro-Athlete (PA) status over and above all other Top-non-comp-Athletes (TA) – meaning that the PA captivates based on competitive results. Climbing is just not there yet – we are still building a GC base and need to captivate all we can, whenever possible. Most of the PAs have TV coverage of some form, even mountain biking has its’ own show. The climbing feats need to be realized, but we firstly need to CAPTIVATE. We need to provide accessibility of the PC to the GC. Build areas where GCs can climb alongside PCs and TCs. We need to build our base first, then we can build our top-end later.
-JD LeBlanc
WG Note: I recently watched Peter Mortimer’s new film, First Ascent. I think it does a good job of what JD is generally talking about.
Posted in: Blog
Date: October 30th, 2006
I’ve started the Rockies Ice Pages again, people are already having at it.
I also wrote a “Seasonal Rockies Climbing Guide” for those wondering when to visit the Rockies for ice or rock climbing, I’ve had so many requests for informaton lately that I thought I’d just write it up in one place. Your thoughts are definitely welcome, it’s just my view of it all. This is the link, it’s on gravsports.com.
Training: My elbow is not happy
I haven’t had any serious elbow problems in probably 20 years, I vary my climbing diet enough that my body seems to recover. But I’ve got a real problem going on the medial side of my elbow, brought on by too much hand-hauling bags on Yam before I got my foot-hauling systems sorted out, and too much pulling rope through my BD Guide. Nothing wrong with the Guide, just days and days of pulling the rope tight on the second and hauling trashed my elbow. I knew I should have rested, but I had to get that route done before the snow flew, I’m paying now. I can barely flip pancakes, it’s a bad episode, still working out the best recovery plan. I think Yoga contributed to the problem, all those presses and seated swing-throughs with my palms flat on the floor messed me up. Ice, rest, we’ll see how it heals, but I’ve had almost a week off and it’s still very sore to the touch. I dropped a plate of food the other day when I couldn’t hold onto it, shit…
Posted in: Blog
Date: October 27th, 2006
Kolin, head of quality assurance over at Black Diamond, just did some more belay loop testing in response to Todd’s accident, check this link for more info. One of the reasons I really like working with BD is that many of the people there are truly obsessive climbers, with access to stacks of high-tech lab equipment. As a climber and professional “tester,” Kolin was obviously directly interested in belay loop failure and so immediately did a stack of tests on belay loops with various “issues.” Right on Kolin, thanks. What Kolin’s tests showed is that even extensively damaged NEW belay loops are still very strong. As I read through both his belay loop tests and then his previous tests and reports (lots on that page) I noticed that Kolin kept repeating some varation of this quote from his tests: “Regardless—swap out old crappy gear—the heartache avoided could be your own…” Most of his reports were written before Todd’s accident.
I recently wrote on this blog about teaching clinics a couple of weeks ago in Maryland where several people were belaying by clipping through their leg loops and swami belt instead of the belay loop. This accident has made me think about that, but I’m still far more worried about a biner breaking through cross-loading or through the carabiner flipping over and having the gate pressed open than I am about belay loops breaking while belaying. Carabiners can break when cross-loaded, or when loaded with the gate opened, I’ve had it happen several times now and watched the lab tests, it does happen. I’ve only ever heard of one belay loop ever breaking, I’ll go with the belay loop as it reduces the odds of biner failure dramatically.
For rappelling the decision is a little more murky. The forces involved on the average rap are generally pretty low (although they can be surprisingly high when rapping on double ropes, remember that’s two strands to share the force, resulting in less rope stretch and therefore higher loads on the carabiner if “bounced”). Most carabiners should be more than adequate to handle this sort of load even if cross-loaded or if the gate gets pressed open, so those arguments are slightly less compelling. Overall I’m still inclined to use the belay loop to rap. For starters, it’s simpler, cleaner and easier to see what’s going on with the device and belay loop connection. Human error happens, a belay loop is just simpler to see those errors. I also don’t like having the ropes sliding through the carabiner so close to my tie-in points. It’s pretty easy to have the harness bunch up in such a way that the rope runs on the nylon tie-in point during the rap. Nylon running on nylon is really dangerous as most of us know, it melts and cuts very quickly. One rap with a rubbing rope on the harness isn’t likely to cut a tie-in point, but it sure could make it a bit weaker, and I’m not confident in knowing how many raps like this would equal failure. A belay loop keeps the device well away from the tie-in points and prevents “bunched up” rubbing on them, the tie-in points need to be absolutely strong for harsh falls.
I also don’t like reducing the distance between the “hot” part of the carabiner and my tie-in points. With a belay loop the distance or “heat sink” is the full size of the carabiner, but may only be a few cm of the carabiner if the carabiner is through the tie-in points. Likely not a big deal but, over years of use, ?
The final thing I don’t like about using the tie-in points instead of the belay loop for raps is related to the closeness of the belay device–it’s a lot easier to get clothes, gear etc. stuck into the device. While this is not normally fatal, I do remember getting my shirt stuck into my belay device years ago. At the time I felt fortunate to be carrying a knife; in retrospect, any blade near a rope I’m hanging on is a really stupid idea… I’ve also seen people rapping with the device on a long sling, this isn’t good as it’s easier to get hair stuck into the device, I’ve seen that happen a few times too. A belay loop seems about right.
One thing I am considering using more often is a backup prussic knot of some kind. I’ve always thought these added more complexity than they were worth–I’ve seen all sorts of cluster fucks on rap with people using backups. Some were pretty funny, some were potentially life-threatening (dark, -20, the prussic freezes to the rope after weighting it and the climber is left hanging there on an ice climb trying to sort it all out). I’ve seen far more potentially “bad” situations than I have situations where the person was potentially “saved.” I do put knots in the ends of my ropes on “mystery raps” in the dark. In my mind knots in the end of the rope on any “suspect” rap are way better than a prussic, most people’s reaction to falling is to grab the prussic knot, which then just slides uselessly down the rope. I’ve seen a few accidents where people rapped off the ends of their ropes, a prussic knot wouldn’t have done anything as the rope goes through the device so fast that the person would have to be thinking not to “squeeze” the knot as the ropes went through the device and toward the knot, I just don’t see that happening. Prussic knots may be useful for those raps where the ends of the ropes are hanging in space, but in that situation the prussic knot is only useful if you know the ends of the ropes are hanging in space and stop early, before the ends of the ropes. If you know that then why would you take it to the ends of the rope anyhow? And if you’re rapping into suspect terrain/rope combinations then you ought to have knots in the ends of the ropes anyhow… As for falling rocks etc. the equation comes down to how many problems I’ve seen with backups vs. how many times I’ve been smacked stupid on rap by a rock. Lots, and never are the answers. Wait, I just talked myself out of a backup prussic knot, and yet Todd’s accident has still got me thinking it might be a good idea…
One of the things Todd was good at was getting people to think, that’s reportedly why his corporate presentations were so good (I’ve only ever seen his climbing talks, which were awesome). So thinking about all of our systems is a good thing, I just wish it didn’t take a guy like Todd dying to get me thinking about it this stuff for hours.
WG
Posted in: Blog
Date: October 26th, 2006
There’s an good article up here on how Todd lived and died–reportedly he died because his belay loop failed. Apparently the belay loop was very well-worn, to the point where it just broke. I’ll wait and see if there’s not some other piece of evidence in this accident equation, but right now that’s what’s being reported. I find this almost unbearably sad because this means Todd’s accident was very avoidable. We all make mistakes, but a failed gear loop is the proverbial lightning bolt from the sky, something that just doesn’t happen. Todd had more than enough money to buy himself a new harness or 50, he was likely climbing on worn gear simply because he knew belay loops are massively over-built. Some might ask why a climber of his stature and experience wouldn’t just get boxes of free harnsesses delivered to his door, but one of his decisions later in life was to avoid pro deals or sponsorship of any kind. He simply wanted to climb, and made more than enough money doing his public speaking gigs to not need free gear. If he paid for all his gear then he wasn’t beholden to anyone or anything when he went climbing, it was his game and his alone. Some climbers have attacked Todd over the years for shameless self-promotion in order to further his climbing career; his sponsor-free style of climbing in his latter years shows exactly where his mind truly was–on going climbing. I just wish he had spent the $ on a new harness. Hell, he owned a climbing store loaded with new harnesses, he could have shop-lifted himself one.
Some climbers will likely start rapping and belaying off carabiners stuck through both their leg and waist-belt tie-in points based on this accident. I think it very likely that this is more dangerous than using the belay loop due to the potential to cross-load the carabiner. I’ve broken three carabiners over the years while climbing, always due to cross-loading or having the gate inadvertently open due to a weird load. The belay loop is a far safer option as it virtually elminates cross-loading or gate torque. I’ve sewed and tested belay loops, it’s about impossible to break one–even a very poorly sewed belay loop tests out as very, very strong. In fact, despite seeing some woeful belay loops in the field this is the first time I’ve ever heard of one ever breaking. But if it’s just totally worn-out, as Todd’s may have been then it can obviously break.
Another friend of mine recently broke a very thin Dyneema sling while cleaning new routes. He was on a top-rope with the sling equalizing one piece and the rope clipped into another. The Dyneema sling was girth-hitched into another sling extension, and basically cut itself. Fortunately my friend’s rope was anchored into another anchor which held, or he would likely have been somewhere between severely injured or dead. I’ve never liked those super-skinny Dyneema slings, the small weight savings just didn’t seem worth it to me, I like gear with a margin of error. Some friends at at a n equipment manufacturer did some tests on these slings also, the results just weren’t encouraging, I’ll leave it at that.
There have been several recent fatal accidents in paragliding and hang gliding due to people using beat-up or inappropriate old gear as well. This year I got rid of my old helmet (went with a ski helmet, seems like a better option than most of the PG helmets), replaced my primary reserve and and my tandem reserve, updated my first aid kit and just generally got my gear in order. These sports are dangerous enough without using worn-out gear.
I’m off to the garage to throw out some old slings, check my belay loops/harness bits and just generally give my gear a good once-over. Everything is likely just fine, but…
Posted in: Blog
Date: October 24th, 2006
I just heard that Todd Skinner, one of the true masters of rock climbing died yesterday in Yosemite.
The Supertopo forum has many anecdotes from people who enjoyed Todd as a friend over the years.
I first met Todd in about 1983 or so, when I was a student in Colorado. Todd was in town to do a slideshow at the local shop, and somehow ended up on the floor of our student house. This was a bit like having Michael Jordan sleeping on my floor, but Todd was appreciative and entertained us a bit. He was a legend of the ’80s scene, and I kept bumping into him over the years in Hueco or someplace random. I corresponded with him about climbing new routes in various places, he was always forthcoming with information and excitement. Todd was one of the first “professional” climbers, meaning that’s all he wanted to do and did, and as I struggled to make that lifestyle work I always respected Todd as much for his dedication to climbing as his actual climbing. Todd truly used his sponsorship money solely to go climbing, that purity of purpose has always been my model.
During one rather bleak spell in my own path through life Todd talked to me for several hours about sponsorship, speaking, climbing and life. The quote I best remember is, “Well, it’s nice to get free gear, but you can’t put quickdraws in the gas tank.” A few days ago a friend and I were hiking down from Yam while talking about photography and how to make a living from it when some manufacturers are chiseling for a “photos for gear” deal, and I shared Todd’s quote with hopefully a bit of the same humor and insight that Todd had shared it with me all those years ago. I didn’t know at the time he had likely just fallen to his death, it’s just one of those quotes that makes sense as so many of Todd’s did.
Todd had his vocal detractors in the climbing scene, but I never heard Todd bad-mouth another climber, route or accomplishment, and there were times when he certainly would have been justified in doing so. He counted most people as his friends even if they weren’t, not out of naivete but out of straight-up hope for the individual and life. That was another lesson–never let the bastards get ya down, life’s pretty damn cool. At times his “cowboy” act annoyed me, but in the end I came to see it as every bit as subversive and carefully ethical as my own punk sensibility of the era, and certainly more genuine. We’re all actors, Todd just had more fun with it than most.
Ah hell Todd, thanks for being you. Peace to Amy and Todd’s massive extended family around the world.
And to everyone who climbs, be careful, we’re all one wrong clip from a parachute-free BASE jump. I know this because Todd was smart, careful, strong and solid in a way few will ever be on the cliff.
Posted in: Blog
Date: October 20th, 2006
I’ve been getting emails asking if the ice is forming, and the short answer is YES… I expect people are already out scraping away, nothing big in yet but it’s starting for sure. After so much rock climbing it’s strange to think it’s going to be ice and mixed until at least March.
Training: a down cycle
After every big goal accomplished I generally lose all motivation and take a week off to recharge my batteries, so not much training or climbing The weather has been really poor here in the Canadian Rockies of late, plus I’m running some tendonitis in my left elbow from hauling on the route and a minor finguer injury, rest is required. I’ve been sitting in the office chair getting paper work done, editing video and just generally getting caught up on everything I didn’t do while trying to finish off Yamabushi. Hey, the ofice isn’t so bad sometimes… I have been doing a lot of Yoga and running some, the elbow is slowly improving, I hope to get out and climb tomorrow.
WG
Posted in: Blog
Date: October 17th, 2006
Here’s the route description and notes, thanks for the kind words in the comments, working this route all fall with Cory was a great time!
Yamabushi, Mt. Yamnuksa, 300M, 5.13a
Start right of “Balrog, follow the line up through the big roofs.
In about 1999 Raphael Slawinski and I started work on a new line on the last major buttress of Yamnuska without a route on it. The reason there weren’t any routes on this area of the wall is obvious: the rock is really steep, generally overhanging, with a maze of large roofs to negotiate. It’s also relatively crack-free, meaning a climb would require extensive bolting. Our progress was slow for the first five years; the climbing/cleaning on lead was hard and took a lot of time—about two days for each pitch. The process of hanging off hooks or lousy gear to drill was also mentally taxing, so we would generally get about a half pitch done every year. The route is also much harder than any other multi-pitch route I’ve done–we only felt fit enough to try it each Fall, then it would snow, oh well, next year, repeat for years.
We did eventually give in to the “dark side” and try to rap-bolt the route to speed our progress up, but were foiled by the very steep rock after only about 60M—it was too difficult to find the climbing line on rap, and we were hanging too far out from the wall anyhow. Plus, although there has been rap-bolting on Yam, it just didn’t feel right. But in 2006 I had an exceptionally good rock-climbing summer (meaning the paragliding sucked so I climbed a lot more), and felt fit enough to give the climb a serious effort, plus I had an under-employed partner, Cory Richards. Raphael was game but unfortunately employed and not feeling rock-fit after a trip to Pakistan. Alpinism is really bad for rock climbing fitness.
It took 11 more trips up on the wall, but in the end we finished off what I consider the best rock route I’ve ever done in the Canadian Rockies. We put a lot of work into cleaning loose rock and equipping the route—I wanted to build something that other people would want to climb, rather than just get the route done as fast as possible. While there are some excellent routes on Yam with good rock, there are also many routes that emphasize difficult run-out climbing on loose rock. I wanted to create something physical and enjoyable that would attract climbers to the great climbing the cliff offers.
The climbing is sustained (five of the eight pitches are 5.12 or harder, and even the 5.11 pitches are involved), and the sometimes friable rock adds to the excitement. Eight pitches at the sport crag is no big deal, eight hard pitches on Yam took a lot more out of me, there’s something about Yamineering that adds extra value. Each pitch also has a lot of climbing on it, usually two or three good cruxes to play with. It took two attempts before climbing the route free from bottom to top in a day, even knowing the route as well as I did. We likely could have done it sooner had we accepted a multi-day free ascent as is common, but there’s just something about climbing from the bottom to the top in a day. Some gear is helpful for reducing the runouts, but not absolutely necessary. It seemed sort of silly to make people bring a rack for a half-dozen possible gear placements in over 300M of climbing. I hope it becomes popular, it’s a very fine long day of climbing in a spectacular environment. All belays are bolted and at “hands free” stances.
P1: 5.10, 60M Climb the shield right of Balrog, easy scrambling across the ledge (skip the anchor, that’s for rapping), up and left to a semi-hanging stance just right of the Balrog crack. Long slings reduce rope drag.
P2, 5.13a (?), 25M. Right up the shallow dihedral to the big roofs, get motivated and climb ‘em! (note that two ropes are required to rap from the top of this pitch, a single 70M rope will be hanging in space). Prussics can be handy for the second if he or she falls off into space and is left dangling there, but a tight rope will keep things in check.
P3, 11d, 50M. Up and generally left on perfect grey rock for about 20M, then back right a bit and up to “lunch ledge,” the only ledge on the climb. A bit run reaching the ledge but not so hard, a cam might be nice. This pitch always seems hard. There are extendo slings on the anchor to keep the rope knot from catching on rap.
P4, 12b, 35M Fun climbing on excellent rock to a semi-hanging stance under a roof. This is the last stance where rapping is straight-forward. With a single 70M rope the ends will just reach Lunch Ledge, fun rappel.
P5, 12b (could be harder?), 30M. Three different fun cruxes. This pitch was very scary to clean on lead, some of the bolts may seem a bit close, but they were used to avoid dying while sending down huge blocks on lead. Excellent rock, and good luck on the last move to the anchor…
P6, 12b/c, 30M. Strenuous and gymnastic climbing up overhanging dihedrals to a baffling crux move before the belay. Down-clipping would be required to rap from here, even with two 70M ropes the ends hang too far out from the wall to reach back in. Down-clipping works OK.
P7, 12b/c (?), 35M. Just when you thought it was over…Very technical with small holds, devious. This pitch is harder than 5.11 but I’m not sure what it really is, I look forward to hearing someone else’s opinion…
P8, 11c, 50M. Surprisingly hard, the first seven pitches take a toll. There is a two-bolt belay at the top of the steep rock, definitely stop here and bring the second up rather than topping out immediately, the last few meters of walking up to the top offer some of the finest rubble found on Yam. There is a bolt just below the top under a cairn to safeguard the last bit.
A note on the grades: I’ve spent so much time working on this route I have no idea if the above grading is accurate or not, everything started to feel sort of the same by the time I managed to link it all together. The Big Ass Roof (pitch 2) recently lost a pebble stuck in a small slot, which may make it a bit easier.
Some history:
1999: Will Gadd and Raphael Slawinski bolt the first pitch and start work on the second and third pitches.
2000-05: Gadd and Slawinski work for four more days from the ground-up, and experiment with rap-bolting, which is not very successful due to the angle of the wall. Gadd also works on the route with Kevin Wilson for a cold day.
2006, September-October: Gadd and Richards spend 11 days cleaning and bolting. Kevin Dyck also puts a day in, as does Sarah Hueniken. Gadd finally does a complete no falls bottom-to-top ascent on October 12, leading every pitch with Josh Briggs jumaring.
“Yama” is Japanese for Mountain, “Bushi” for monk. The Yamabushi in Japan are warrior/monks who train with extreme asceticism; they run a marathon a day for 60 days straight, eating only small amounts of rice. Plus the name has “Yam” at the start, which is what locals call the cliff. Yam has a long and proud climbing history for Canadian climbers, it’s the crucible in which many Canadian climbers were forged over the last 50+ years.
Posted in: Blog
Date: October 14th, 2006
After at least 16 days of work spread over 6 years we finally finished our line right of Balrog on Yam. A big thanks to Raphael Slawinski, who I started the line with, and Cory Richards, who I worked all fall to finish it with (we were up there something like 10 days this fall). Josh Briggs came out for the final day and made it happen also, thanks. It’s been the best fall of rock climbing I’ve ever had, so many amazing blue sky, yellow trees and grey limestone days where, as someone quipped, “It was a tragic day to have a real job!” Kevin Dyck, Kevin Wilson and Sarah Hueniken also put time in on it over the years, thanks. I’ll write some more up and post some photos/topo when I they’re sorted, but I’m just really happy to have finally climbed it bottom to top without falling, it’s been a great project with good friends, so many ups and downs adding up to something special for all of us who put time in to finding the line. Yam rocks! I can’t stop smiling. We’re heading back up early in the morning to get some gear back, just before the weather really locks down for the season.
“Yamabushi” is the name by group decision, Yama means mountain in Japanese, the Yambushi are mountain monks I’ve always admired, Google them and check it out, plus the word starts with my favorite cliff in the Rockies, Yam.
Posted in: Blog
Date: October 11th, 2006
I’m in the Pitssburgh airport on the way back from doing a seminar and show at Garrett College, just over the border in Maryland. Garrett is an interesting school with a strong outdoor program, one of the few schools to offer various paddling and climbing certification programs. Part of my job yesterday was to go out to a new climbing/bouldering area with some of the students, I didn’t think it would be all that great but it turned into a classic sunny fall day with stellar fall color in the forest canopy. The rock we went to is part of the ASI complex, which includes a kayaking course literally on top of a mountain. More on that some other time, but it’s an amazing bit of technology. Anyhow, our rocks turned out to be excellent, with a wide variety of new boulder problems just waiting to be done. The students and I got pumped silly and shredded our skin, perfect. Days like that are a big reason I like traveling and doing slide shows, it was a great experience. I’ll never look at the east-coast woods the same way again, there’s a lot of rocks hidden out there!
We went up on Yam on last Sunday, but it was miserably cold, just above freezing and not generally sunny. A cold wind didn’t help, but we managed to work pitches 7 and 8, pitch 7 is definitely hard, solid 5.12, excellent climbing with a very sustained section. I couldn’t come close to redpointing with numb feet and hands, but it’s all there. I just hope we get a sunny day to try the continuous ascent, and that we’re fit enough to do it. Four pitches of mid-5.12 in a row is difficult for me, especially after a 5.13 pitch and another 5.11+ pitch. Pitch 7 is the redpoint crux for sure… The ground was frozen hard as we walked up, we’re going to need some decent weather in mid-October to get this rig done.
Thanks to the Pittsburgh airport for the free internet, one of the few airports I travel through that offers that. I really rely on the net for business communication, it irks me to pay the $10 for the hour of net I use while waiting for flights, sometimes twice in the same day. So right on Pittsburgh airport.
Ok, my late flight is boarding now, back home tonight, hopefully up on Yam early in the morning!
WG
Posted in: Blog
Date: October 5th, 2006
Yesterday Cory I and went up on Yam with the goal of sending the Yam project we’ve been working all September (day seven this season, 13 into the project). It was an absolutely perfect Fall day, a sensory feast. The first six pitches went down first try, including the sixth, which I’d been unable to climb in the past. We were super-stoked at the top of pitch 6, especially ’cause the last hard move on pitch six is low-percentage. Six pitches down, two more “easy” pitches to go–or so we thought… In retrospect it was a bit like when Bush hung the “Mission Accomplished” banner for Iraq, it wasn’t really over now was it? I’m going to write about pitch 7 because I can’t stop thinking about it.
Pitch 7 started off with some 5.10 climbing up a less than vertical headwall of very sharp “Yam Velcro,” meaning that the surface of the limestone looks like a dry bowl of Captain Crunch cereal, only each crunch spike is skin-cutting sharp. The spikes tend to break off occasionally, but the rock is in general excellent grey limestone. The pitch is generally well-protected with bolts (as is most of the route, some bigger runs but you’re unlikely to die on this route). No problem, paste hands, feet up, let the spikes hurt so good. Then the pitch steepened up to vertical to gently overhanging, with blobs of the grey Velcro mixed with more friable yellow limestone. Those of you who climb on Rockies limestone will know the mix. I was tired but still felt reasonably strong, and kept thinking that in one or two moves I’d get a good hold and then it would be jugs to to the belay. The slow slide into being pumped silly started when a foothold broke and I had to give all my power to hang on. Suddenly I was on the edge of falling after climbing maybe 10M of a 35M pitch. No! Up and just out of reach I could see a bigger than usual Crunch nubbin, but so far away and it would probably break anyhow… The clock was on, no time to rest, I hiked my feet up on lousy footholds that were crunching like mad and thought, “This won’t work,” but I had to try, fuck it, go down fighting man! I hit the Cruncher but oh so barely good enough to hold or maybe not, no, yes, wobbling, barely barely on. For the next 20 minutes I was able to oh so barely bust out a move, recover just enough to make another one, repeat. I have never, never, tried so hard on a pitch for so long in my life–so many times almost falling off, then not, just a swinging quickdraw’s force from falling off. Normally when I’m that pumped I fall off, but this was pitch 7 on the redpoint effort of the biggest rock route I’ve ever put up, I refused to fall and so somehow didn’t. Footholds broke slightly, my skin started to bleed, but I was making it work. Finally I got to an awkward rest where I could alternate hands, but my feet were on crunchy nubbins so I was only able to get the feeling back in my hands, my forearms were bloated like balloons and weren’t going down in pressure. I could see the belay so close, and then the “rest” started to turn into work. Go! A paralyzed friend of mine once explained that he could use his hands better with “extensis,” which means bending his wrists back so the tendons were stretched and his finger stayed curled better. I think this is part of the reason our elbows go up and out when we’re pumped stupid, we’re using extensis to stay on. My elbows went up into the super pollo as I scrabbled upward, Crunch nubbins flying off until there was nothing left to give and I was in the air and hanging on the rope, a jug in plain sight about a foot higher. 20M of all-out desperate climbing came down to a foot… At first I was too tired to do more than hang there, then the pain came in the skin and the world returned with a rush. I had given absolutely everything I had for the last 35 minutes–skin, energy, will, and I had come up short by a single move…
I lowered down thinking I’d just find the good sequence, pull the rope the rope and redpoint next go, but I couldn’t do any of the moves I’d just done, there was nothing left in my mind or body, and each time I touched the rock I had to consciously not let go from the skin pain. The splitter Fall day was cooling fast as the sun set, and I suddenly realized we had to get to the top of Yam somehow (rapping after the fifth pitch would be very complicated, the ends of 70M ropes hang totally free a long way from the wall). What if the next “easy” pitch was like this too? Quickdraws became my friends, and fortunately the last pitch wasn’t too bad, relatively easy 5.11. We had done an ascent of the route from bottom to top, but not free, and not free is not done in my mind.
If I had been able to hang on for one more move and make the belay I’d call that pitch the best “onsight” climbing of my life (I’d rapped the pitch, but didn’t know the moves at all, so not a technically pure onsight effort). I tried harder and succeeded more than I ever have on a single pitch, but still came up short. I alternated between feeling heart-broken over failing so close, and yet calm with the fact that I’d done my absolute best.
Today I wonder how hard that pitch is–could be relatively easy, on top of Yam I felt like I do at the end of one of those cragging days where you’ve climbed more hard routes than normal and then climbed some laps on a hard route and then tried to do the “warm up” to cool down and can’t… It doesn’t really matter, I met my match high on Yam. I really want to do a continuous free ascent as that always feels best, but I know it’s common to claim an ascent redpointing each pitch in sequence. We could go back up, rap down and redpoint the last two pitches like others have done on big wall “free” routes, but that seems somehow weak to me, the goal is always to climb from the bottom to the top. I don’t think I have the fitness to climb six pitches, four of which are solid 5.12 with one likely 5.13, and then figure that pitch out, so perhaps the thing to do is to rap down, figure it out, then head back up for a one-day free ascent? I’m sure there are climbers who could onsight the whole climb, and I hope that happens as it would be cool, but I want to do my best and finish this rig in a style I feel good about. But it’s early October here in the Rockies, we only have so many days for success before the days are too cold, and the rare warm days too short for a route of this size and difficulty (for me). This morning I can barely walk with the foot pain, and my hands are oozing plasma road rash so it’s going to take some time to hang onto anything but smooth plastic keyboards or maybe gym holds. Climbing sure is interesting!
I just got an email from Cory: “My hands are fucked…I can’t even be clever about
saying it…they are just plain fucked!”
Yamineering sure is fun.
Posted in: Blog
