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kpalsson
Jun 29, 2004, 6:32 PM
Post #1 of 4
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Registered: Jan 16, 2004
Posts: 127
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AKA: all these years, and I'm still green and bendy. :)
So my regular partner has run off to Costa Rica with his girlfriend
for a week, and it's been two weeks since I was climbing outside.
Time for a fix. Time to try out this new guy we both met at the gym.
Super strong, super dedicated, wayyyy tougher than me. (Isn't
everyone?) No experience but, been climbing about 4 months now I
guess. I ask him if he wants to go climbing this weekend. He replies
that he was really hoping to go up to castle rock and lead something.
(He just took a sport lead class at our gym) I casually pretend he
hadn't even mentioned that, and mention that I was thinking of going
to the valley to do some multipitch, and did he want to come.
kaching. Hook is set, and I've got myself a belay bitch for the
weekend. We head out of San Ho on friday night, off to the valley for
a day of climbing on Saturday before I have to return to the
girlfriend. (snide remarks about girlfriends and climbing are to be
inserted here by those desiring them) The poor guy can't drive a
manual, so it looks like I'm driving, but he's already offered to pay
for pizza and beer in exchange for me showing him the ropes in the
valley. WOW! And he's paying half the petrol up front. This guy is
rad! I'm feeling psyched already. I'm feeling tough from some
bouldering, and recent successes in valley, and am looking forward to
showing this guy up, showing that although he can boulder tough at the
gym, I can climb cracks. (I know kung fu!)
We dirt bag up the back of camp 4. It's deadly quiet, hardly any
tents around, yet still there's a sign that says, "Camp full".
Whatever. In a startling turn of events, we get woken by a ranger.
Oh shit, we're about to get busted for dirt bagging. Acutally they're
just looking for "colin smith" and leave us alone when we mutter and
mumble and incoherently shake our heads.
Sunrise, birds, stupidly early rising. I hate dirtbagging. How come
all the damn lifers get the good digs, and the locals (?) have to
resort to skulking around in the shaddows. I know, we should camp out
on the Hetch Hetchy road, or anywhere else outside the valley, and
just drive in in the morning, but that's too much work too. Enough
envy, we rack up, and head off. Munginella and Selaginella are our
goals. Munginella so my partner can learn how to belay on double
ropes, and get a feel for multipitch. Selaginella as a goal of mine.
Only one (or two depending on the audience) grades difference on
paper, but quite a difference when you're there.
We are first up to Munginella, and are just going over some of the
basics when the second party arrives. We all have to endure the
stench of the human shit on the belay ledge. Wankers. You had to
walk past a toilet on the way up here, and it's only three pitches.
I head off up. This is cool. I can lead! I'm even leading off the
ground, first pitch off, all by myself, (I hate leading the first
pitch of the day) Lost in the easy climbing, I end up a bit past the
first belay, wondering how much rope is left. Not enough it seems.
Ok, I start to set an anchor. Umm, how do I do this again? I
realise that I really have no good ideas on how to set an anchor that
doesn't use the rope. I'm so used to swinging leads that it takes a
lot of effort to work it out. I figure it out eventually, and we
continue. Feeling very slow, and guilty about the party below us, but
it really wasn't that important. They were on Munginella for a reason
too. They were even slower than us :)
The second pitch is nice, the third pitch is a littly grotty, and then
we're done. Time for some lunch, and then selaginella. We don't have
much water, and I'm all jittery. It's quite a bit different leading
everything. I've never done that before. We go over to look at
selaginella. It looks beautiful. Really beautiful. I know I can do
the first pitch. But what about the second, third, and fourth. Do we
have enough water? Bailing would cost us gear. I have to lead them
all. I chicken out. (I do that often) Another day perhaps. When
it's cooler. When .....(insert favourite excuse here)
We walk off, it's nice and dry today, and we can walk down, and go
back to C4 to get the car, and go over to church bowl. Bishops
Terrace sounds much more appealing. Two shorter pitches, much the
same difficulty, and we can fill up on water first.
Joining the queue, we watch the guys before us pull some odd tricks.
"yeah, clip in there, I'll give you some more rope" belayer unties and
solos up the first face, sketching out pretty hard, before deciding to
start belaying again. "cool dude" I make faces at my partner, and we
both make faces at the two new dudes who came behind us. Scott and
Dave. They look way harder. A5 pack, sunglasses tan, the sort of
guys you just _know_ are way tougher than you.
I get my turn and head on up the first pitch of Bishops Terrace.
(We've only got 50s) Beautiful. I get distracted by some slings
around a horn just to the left of the wide flake, but eventually head
on up the flake. Why did I leave my brand new #4 camalot on the
ground again? I guess you really do never need it. I get to the top
of the flake, and try to build an anchor. Deja vu, I can't figure it
out. I sit there wondering how the hell I could have been climbing
this long and not be able to figure this out. I sit, I fiddle, I
rerig, I take in the slack to see if it will work. I don't have it.
For some reason I exclude a hanging belay for the second, and well,
actually, I don't know what the fuck I was really thinking. Suffice
to say, this was frustrating. I had led the damn climb well enough!
And here I was, unable to confidently bring up my second and lead the
second pitch. And it looked soooo good.
I rap. I sheepishly ask the guys behind us in line if they'd mind
terribly cleaning out my anchor on their way up, and I'd offer them
beers and pizza in exchange. Scott and Dave however are not prepared
to just lead through and collect some beer and pizza. They _insist_
that we climb up behind them, that we _must_ do the second pitch, it
is that good. I feel bad for my partner, missing out on the climb,
and send him up, but try to back out myself, feeling a bit guilty. No
No No, you must come too.
So I climb. And it is beautiful. And I get back to the belay, and it
is immediately obvious what I should have been doing. And I climb the
second pitch. And it is beautiful. It is very beautiful. Gumbifying
up belays seems very far away already. I love cracks. I'm so glad
I'm here.
And then it's over. Coiling ropes, seeing my partner on the ground
again, shaking after his first ever rap, thanking Scott and Dave
profusely, (I bet they see guys like me all the time :) And we're
done. Scott and Dave have a long drive back to mammoth in front of
them and politely decline beer and pizza. We have beer and pizza
anyway, and even feed some of the C4 locals with our leftovers.
I guess you never do know it all (I guess I already knew that too) and
there's always stuff to learn. Like, how to set anchors. Or can I
just blame it on a missing partner ;)
Love and Kisses to all,
Karl P
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jajohnst
Jun 29, 2004, 6:45 PM
Post #2 of 4
(1288 views)
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Registered: Apr 5, 2003
Posts: 36
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Thanks for telling it straight. I think we've all had those days. Even after climbing for six years sometimes I go to tie in and have that moment when I can't remember how the hell to tie a figure eight :oops: . Then it all comes back to me and I am in focus again.
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markc
Jun 29, 2004, 7:30 PM
Post #3 of 4
(1288 views)
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Registered: Jan 21, 2003
Posts: 2481
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Thanks for the report, it was a fun read. Leading them all certainly is a different feeling from swinging pitches. I can feel a lot bolder when I know I can pass the lead if I get stumped.
mark
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flipnfall
Jun 29, 2004, 7:35 PM
Post #4 of 4
(1288 views)
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Registered: May 18, 2004
Posts: 717
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In reply to: Thanks for telling it straight. I think we've all had those days. Even after climbing for six years sometimes I go to tie in and have that moment when I can't remember how the hell to tie a figure eight :oops: . Then it all comes back to me and I am in focus again.
Takes some humility to admit all that.
A figure what? Huh?
(Just kidding)
GT
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