In the gym… and a fear of falling update…

So, my March has been unusually light on outdoor climbing. I think partly, I was spoiled rotten to get to go to Red Rock once in January and again the first weekend in March (which is usually my season opener at Vantage or Smith) so my trip rhythm is just a little bit off. Combine that with work stress, and the more-than-usual recovery I needed after my second Red Rock trip, and I’ve been a mostly indoor climber lately.

Usually when I get back from a trip, the gym is a necessary evil. I know I need to do it, but the last thing I want to do is pull on plastic. I usually spend my first day back in the gym on the cracks, since they’re at least a little bit like climbing outside. I ease myself back onto routes, usually climbing a level or two below what I did before my trip and recovery, then work my way back up to climbing at max. I also keep up with my antagonist muscle training (dips, bench, push-ups) and abs, which I never bother to do when I’m actually on trips. That’s been the rhythm that’s kept me from getting frustrated, and kept me making forward progress, for the last two seasons or so.

Lately, though, I’ve been having an unusual amount of fun in the gym. It all started with a whipper…

I was in the gym with Climbing Partner… we’ve been making an effort to lead in the gym more than we had through the winter, to work on our lead heads for the outdoor season. The gym doesn’t directly translate, since the bolts are SO close together compared to outside, but still — it’s better than nothing. We had gotten in a good warm-up, and I’d just started doing sets of leads at about my lead onsight level, and some a bit harder. I hopped on a route at a grade that would typically be difficult but do-able for me with maybe one take; I made it two bolts, got scared, wasn’t feeling it, and lowered off. I cursed the route (“that’s no fun! It’s just stupid, and scary!”) indulged in a momentary bad attitude about it, then had a drink of water, had a snack, belayed my partner, and tied back in and sent the route. It wasn’t pretty — I was scared, and nervous, but stubborn, and I knew I had to reset my head, so I went at it. Afterward I felt proud of myself for turning it around, but I knew I needed to relax and work on my flow, so that I wasn’t just panic-ing my way up routes the rest of the night.

I got on to lead a known, trusted route one tick easier that I’ve toproped about three hundred times. OK, that’s a slight exaggeration, but it’s a route I’ve done a bunch. I started up, feeling good, relaxed, having fun. I flowed, I climbed, I clipped bolts, and then, about a bolt from the top…

“uh…

I don’t remember this…

um…

wow, I’m unbelievably pumped…”

I moved out right to a slopey envelope slot, but my feet just felt off. I downclimbed a move to an easier rest, and tried again. My feet were still off. If I trusted the envelope slot, and got my other hand up to the next good edge, I’d make a clip off that edge. I was way too pumped to try to clip off the envelope slot, so if I trusted it to move up, I was risking a few-foot lead fall since I was just above the bolt. I decided I’d rather try than take, thinking that usually when I try I stick it and the risk is worth it, and plus – my belayer will catch me… so I moved out to the envelope slot, tried to push up with my still-not-right feet and I fell.

I fell so fast, and with so much surprise (even though I should have seen it coming) that I didn’t even get a warning out to my belayer. He caught me, surprised himself since we’ve been climbing together for a year plus and I’m not sure I’ve ever taken a real lead fall on him before. I climbed up to my high point and tried it again, and fell again. By that point, I was STOKED. Two lead falls, not scared, still relaxed, still having fun, and ready for more. I figured out the footwork (I was missing a hold entirely) and finished the route.

It was awesome.

I have always struggled with my fear of falling. I’ve done test falls, which actually haven’t helped a whole lot… yes, I gain the muscle memory that falls can be safe, but for some reason, test falls don’t help my head. They make me scared. That night in the gym was a breakthrough for me… real training falls, caught by my belayer, were what I needed in order to be less afraid and to more accurately calculate my risk in a given situation.

The very next time I went into the gym, a Girl Scout group was there for an intro class. One of my friends asked if I’d do a lead climb demonstration and take a lead fall for the girls… I was stoked to get to do both. I didn’t get in a solid warmup… just one route at way sub-max… and then tied in for a climb I’d onsighted on toprope before and climbed many times on toprope since. I started up the route, plan in place with my trusty belayer that I’d get to a safe high spot then fall at the last clip before the anchors… it would be a nice dramatic fall on safe terrain for the girls to see. I clipped the first, then second bolt, and worked my way up, feeling that I wasn’t warm, and getting a bit pumpy, but staying calm and having fun. I got about 2/3 of the way up and realized… um… I’ve toproped this a bunch of times, but never lead it. And, it’s HARD.

I made it up to just below where I’d planned to take a fall, and I was so pumped I could hardly hold on. I had to make a dynamic move up to the next hold, and I went for it and again — fell with so much surprise that I don’t think I got a “falling” out, but I do think I made a little “peep” of surprise. My belayer caught me, I smiled broadly and shook out my arms, then got back on and finished after de-pumping just enough to pull the move. When I got to the ground, some of the Girl Scouts were shaking their heads, “I’ll NEVER do that, how scary!” (things I used to say, myself but don’t bother with any more)… but I saw a handful of shining, smiling faces, bright-eyed girls, who you could see by the look on their faces were thinking, “I can’t WAIT to do that.”

It was so satisfying that things fell into place for me to be able to do that. Those Girl Scouts (and, the friend who asked me to do the demo) had no idea what a big deal it was for me. But, now I’m having fun on lead in the gym, and am pushing my limits and taking falls, finally. I’m getting on hard projects onsight, and I can feel that it’s going to make me stronger physically and mentally. It’s been good for my trust in my climbing partners, and plus, it’s just so much FUN. I can’t wait to see how I feel outside… I’m not going to go purposely signing up for any whippers, but I do look forward to pushing my limits just a bit more than I have been up until now.

How is your gym training going this season? If you’re a “faller,” how did you get there? If you’re not yet, what are the challenges you’re dealing with? Please join in, in the comments!

Filed under: In the gym, Training

Clearing the air: the dirt clean on my product reviews

shill (slang) n.: One who poses as a satisfied customer to dupe bystanders into participating in a swindle.

Last week I got together with some friends to tape a Confab show podcast over in Seattle. The confabbers that night were heavy on the new media folks, so during pre-show noshing, Richard asked if I’d be willing to talk about the details and ethics of my gear reviews during the podcast. I thought about it for a minute, and I don’t see any reason not to — I do this for fun, and ethical dilemmas aren’t fun, so if someone asks me a question about what I do here at rockclimbergirl.com, they’re going to get a full answer.

It turned out my contribution to that particular show was a “liberal elitism” ninja chop attempt and a discussion of how home-grown potatoes are totally worth the work, so we didn’t tread into my product review ethics. But, I did just finish a guest post for my friends at PembaServes and that got me thinking that it’s probably time for a little update here at my own blog, especially since I’m working on a spring Gear Guide, set to go live in mid-April.

First, the promise I make to you, dear reader, is that I am not, nor will I ever be, a shill.

Here at Rockclimbergirl.com, and on my Twitter feed I only review products that I use, and love. Sometimes those products are purchased by me, and once in awhile they’re provided by someone in the industry. When I review products that were provided to me for the purpose of a review, I’ll mention that — it doesn’t affect my review, but some readers might want to know, so I will mention it — but they’re usually products that but for being provided to me I would have bought myself.

Despite starting to build some really fun connections with real people at companies in the outdoor industry, this blog is still my totally beloved hobby. I do this because I love writing, climbing, gear, and the people I meet through my activities here and on other sites online.

It doesn’t matter how an item was obtained, if you read a product review here, it’s because I trusted my life to it and it performed and I decided the item was worth spending my free time writing up for you. Sometimes I feature “wish list” items, that I haven’t yet tried or used myself but that I’m lusting over — when an item falls into that category, the post content will be clear.

Second, while this time of year the blog is always a bit gear heavy because I’m doing my shopping for the season, this is a blog about rock climbing. Gear is a part of that, but not all of it. I trust that if you feel that I’m spending too much time talking about gear, and not enough time talking about climbing and my climbing life, you’ll speak up instead of unsubscribing from the RSS feed. Can I count on you for that, dear reader?

And third, you will, on occasion, see a brief mention of activities in the industry — for example, the link above to the guest post I wrote for PembaServes addressing questions I’m getting from folks in the biz. I hope that me engaging with the industry doesn’t make you see me differently. It’s no different than when someone asks me my advice on climbing shoes or for beta on a climbing area or route — when folks in the biz ask for my advice on a topic I’m interested in talking about or exploring, I’ll give it. I’ll try to do the long-winded part of that elsewhere, so that you don’t have to wade through it here at rockclimbergirl.com. But, I may make mentions here, just in case you’re interested in clicking through.

The questions I’m getting about my product review “ethics” are coming from outside the climbing community… but just in case any of you long-time readers or my newer industry folk readers have concerns or feedback, I wanted to clear the air.

Thank you for reading, commenting, complimenting and criticizing. I appreciate it all, and look forward to much more… now… for a post about climbing, up next…

Filed under: Gear, Shameless commercialism, The Biz

Adventures in Climbing Cross Training: Mountain Biking

Wowsa. It’s been a long time since I did a “not climbing” post… but I guess now’s as good a time as any. I also need to do an “in the gym” update… but will try to get to that later this week. Maybe this is all a way of managing my sadness that I’m missing a Smith trip this weekend… sigh…

I’ve been told by friends that single people are supposed to have three (or five, depending on who you talk to) fun activities with other people. Since I work several jobs, I cut myself some slack and aim for three fun activities that get me out of the house and office and around other people. One is my volunteering; another is climbing and all of my climbing-related activities; but I haven’t really settled on a third until recently.

Enter… cycling.

I’ve been a cyclist for years, though I did take a big hiatus. I did distance in the late 90s, until I killed my knees with bad technique. Climbing and hiking with weight have definitely helped rehab my knees and make them stronger… so much so that I got back on my bike for a few road rides in the last few months. Climbing Partner is a mountain biker, so awhile back he suggested we take a trail ride on a rest day to mix it up… we rode trails up in Port Townsend and had a blast riding until his chain broke; after his chain broke, we had a blast walking our bikes through PT.

Real mountain biking, though, is something I never — ever — thought I’d do. I’ve always said — if I’m on a trail, I want something with instincts under me (specifically, a well-seasoned trail horse).

One of these days, I’ll learn not to count anything out. Fast forward to a few weeks ago when I accidentally took up mountain biking.

Climbing Partner and I took another rest day ride, out at Banner Forest in Port Orchard. We started out on nice, easy dirt trails, then Climbing Partner wanted to take a side trail. It looked easy enough, even on my decade-old Novara hybrid with road slicks… but it turned singletrack fast. Even on my slicks I made it through puddles and got a few little roots under my belt… after a bit, Climbing Partner let me get on his super nice hardtail, and I made it over a few more roots and through some pretty big puddles. Despite walking up a lot of hills; despite the fact that it was pouring down rain and freezing; despite the fact that I was soaked to the skin and literally shivering… I was HOOKED. And filthy. Awesome.

One of my girls, Candace, has a sweet girl-size full suspension bike that I got to borrow for this weekend’s ride out at Newberry Hill. Talk about awesome. I went with Climbing Partner and one of our other climbing partners… both are more serious cyclists than I, and both have more trail experience. I was super nervous about being able to keep up… but it turns out…

Climbing directly translates to mountain biking.

Aside from the physical condition I’m in from climbing and hiking with a pack, the mental game was familiar as soon as I really got going and was motivated enough to try things like back-to-back obstacles, or bigger roots, or steeper hills.

Once I consciously turned my internal dialog from “this is scary! I can’t do this!” to “This is so much FUN, I can DO this!”… I relaxed, and let my body and the bike flow through the obstacles, over roots, around tight turns, in between trees… I succeeded more than I failed. We did a few easier trails, a few moderate trails, and then a few REALLY hard trails… I was able to stay on the bike through the easier trails and almost all of the sections of moderate terrain. The hard trails bucked me, but they bucked the boys too, so I didn’t feel bad or get frustrated.

So, gosh darn it, looks like I accidentally accumulated another extreme outdoor hobby. I’m thankful that I have access to a few friends with my-size bikes to ride so I don’t have to make a decision about what to buy right away… I’m looking casually at bikes, but have yet to make the hardtail / full suspension decision so I’m not shopping seriously yet. I’m leaning toward a hardtail with a suspension seat post, but Candace’s full suspension was pretty freaking fun.

This blog won’t become mountainbikergirl.com (I promise) but I hope you’ll humor me in a mountain bike-related post every once in awhile. I’ve already met some worthy-of-a-feature folks, and I look forward to sharing this new adventure with you all.

What do you do other than climbing? Please comment, below!

Filed under: Not Climbing

Please Support Women’s Wilderness Institute

I am remiss in not getting this posted sooner… Please forgive me, Tali!

Here’s a guest post, and a request for assistance, from my girl Tali (who has fantastic taste in music, by the way), on behalf of Women’s Wilderness Institute. Please, support this great cause if you are able!

In my early 20s I was fascinated with the idea of rock climbing. The grace and strength of climbers along with their confident yet laid back demeanor, well I’ll admit it, I was envious. I finally thought I found my chance to learn when I was dating a climber. I borrowed his sister’s harness and shoes and we went out for a day. It was supposed to be fun. Instead, it was frustrating and I walked away feeling like my climbing future was dead.

For years I put the idea in the background of my brain and thought it would be something I would admire from afar. As I reached my mid and then late 20s I figured no way I would ever get on rock again. Then I began to hear about Women’s Wilderness Institute. Based in Boulder this non-profit organization specializes in all kind of programs for women and girls. After reading success stories from women of all ages and that they gained so much from their course work I signed up for the Intro to Rock Climbing course.

After this one-day adventure I was exhilarated, proud, engaged and ready for more. I realized it wasn’t that I wasn’t cut out to climb but my ex didn’t know how to teach a woman, to engage my skills and help me tap into my strength. It takes a unique and special environment to do that and that is why I volunteer on The Women’s Wilderness Annual Gear and Cheer Committee.

This spirited and exciting event raises money for the Girls Programs and brings together outdoor enthusiasts from the Denver/Boulder area. With 400+ guests, live Marimba music, local food and beverage vendors, and amazing selection of auction items this really is a can’t miss event. Just to give you an idea of the available items to bid on we have everything from jewelry and gift certificates to a Mountain Hardware wardrobe and Sea Kayak trip. There are great items for men and women alike.

This year the event is Thursday, April 23 and will be held at Rembrandt Yard, 1301 Spruce Street, in Boulder, CO. For those who want to beat the crowd our Sneak Peak ticket ($100 in advance) allows early entry at 5:30pm a chance to preview the auction, enjoy hors d’ouevre and a VIP goodie bag. Otherwise doors open at 6:30pm and general admission ($35 in advance) includes food and beverage sampling as well. Tickets will be available soon at the womenswilderness.org.

If you’re interested in making a donation for the auction or educational programs please check out the Sponsorship page.

Tali aka The Cupcake
www.mycupcakemafia.com

Filed under: Amazing Women, Good Causes

Climbing-induced Stockholm Syndrome

My most recent blog entry for the Climbing Magazine Reader Blog goes live today… it’s called “A New Entry for the DSM of Climbing Mental Disorders.”

Finally finding words for something that’s been nagging at me for almost a year feels good. The moment of clarity, as with most good epiphanies, came to me halfway up a multipitch traditional route.

Enjoy… take a read, and then come back here and share your thoughts on your own climbing psychology and partnership dynamics. I’m curious to hear how your experiences are similar or different from my own. Two friends read it pre-release, and it sparked some really delightful self-assessment and conversation… I look forward to the dialogue!

Filed under: Partners, Stuff to Read, The climbing life

Red Rock Trip Report March 2009, part 3: Eagle Dance

Finally, here’s the detail on the epic day of the trip. As alluded to in earlier posts, our day on Eagle Dance didn’t go without its hitches. Shawn and I had planned the trip hoping to do at least three big, long, traditional classics: I wanted to do Johnny Vegas and Solar Slab; and his ticklist was Eagle Dance (on Eagle Wall, in Oak Creek Canyon) and Epinephrine (in Black Velvet Canyon).

We crossed my objective, Johnny Vegas and Solar Slab, off on Friday with KT and Smitty. Taking the Painted Bowl descent instead of rapping off Solar Slab allowed us to get a really good look at Eagle Wall, as well as to drop gear near the base so that we could make a faster, lighter approach for Eagle Dance.

Here are a few links for additional Eagle Dance information:

• SuperTopo’s Eagle Dance page
• Mountain Project’s Eagle Dance page, with lots of pictures
• RockClimbing.com’s Eagle Dance page

Eagle Dance goes at about 10 pitches of 5.10c / A0 (the aid section is a closely bolted ladder through an overhung, traversing section on approximately pitch 6). The route is mostly 5.10 climbing, with two reported pitches of 5.10c.

This was an ambitious undertaking for Shawn and I, given that I only have a few 10c and harder pitches under my belt, and given that we knew we’d be up against the clock to try to get down before sunset. It was also ambitious given that we’d just done Johnny Vegas and Solar Slab (10 or 12 pitches of climbing) the day before, with a long hike in and out both days. But, when Shawn knocked on my door at 4:45 on Saturday morning and asked if I was in, I grumbled an unpleasant animal noise of pain then jumped up and said “Yup, I’m in.”

Smitty dropped us off at the Oak Creek Trailhead outside the loop, since the loop road hadn’t yet opened (I think we hit the trailhead right about 5:30am). We had a beautiful, peaceful approach, light and fast since we were basically only carrying food, water and my little bag of emergency gear having stashed the ropes and racks near the base of Eagle Wall on our descent from Solar Slab. Use that approach at your own risk, of course, but it worked well for us this trip. It was also extra motivation to actually get up and get out of bed that morning, knowing we’d have to get our gear back sometime and we’d only hurt worse on Sunday!

What I knew of Eagle Dance came from a variety of sources. My local friend, John, had indicated that our ticklist was “ambitious,” and he’d mentioned that he’d climbed the first four pitches of Eagle Dance and wanted to get back to it.

I heard from a number of sources that the pitches above the bolt latter were very hard. During my last trip to Joshua Tree, I’d overheard one of the staffers at the gear shop talk about how incredibly difficult the section above the bolt latter (pitches 6 and 7) were, so I expected the top of the route to be “5.10c My Ass” rather than just 5.10c. I’ve climbed a few pitches between 5.10c and 11a so I figured even if it wasn’t pretty, I’d be able to make it up in relatively good time. I also reviewed (but, didn’t practice) my aid technique.

We opted to carry a second rope, so we climbed on my 70 meter BlueWater 9.7, and Shawn trailed his 9.8 rope. I’d heard that we could rap the route on a single 70 meter, but hadn’t seen that across sources, so we erred on the side of two ropes. Shawn (at least, what he told me) didn’t find the trail line to be a problem even while leading, and it proved handy over the course of the day for passing the pack back and forth and cold belays (e.g. one in particular when Shawn hit the bolted belay and I knew he’d be freezing, so sent the pack up the haul line with his jacket).

We went fast and light — we carried one small pack with water, food, our two headlamps plus my Petzl e-lite backup headlamp, a warm layer for Shawn and my puffy for me. I brought my point and shoot camera, but took approximately two pictures, so that’s a bit of a bummer. I think some in our party took pictures of Eagle Wall during our Solar Slab Painted Bowl descent, so if any of those come my way I’ll add them when I get them.

We left our packs at the base of the climb, containing some additional food, first aid items, approach shoes and socks, and my 2-person emergency bivy (JUST in case) and started a-climbing.

The first few pitches were hands down, just plain fun. Granted, I was cleaning, so anything’s fun when you’re cleaning — but Shawn had fun on lead, too. The plan was for him to lead, with the possibility of me perhaps taking one of the easier bolted pitches, if conditions looked good for it — but fast was the M.O., and I’m not necessarily fast on lead, so I didn’t have my heart set on leading anything. I don’t remember anything really specific about the first four pitches… just that they were FUN. Some of the belays were hanging and/or uncomfortable, but the climbing was just so much freaking fun, and the reported “10c crux” shown in one of our topos lower on the route wasn’t really distinguishable from the 5.10 climbing around it. In other words, the first four pitches were fun, confidence inspiring, and we made great time. The belays weren’t all ideal, but that’s life.

Shawn lead up the bolt ladder pitch like an absolute pro. Watching him go, I rehearsed my own technique in my head, and felt pretty confident about my ability to execute the aid sequence and get up that pitch.

Until, that is, I had to actually *do* it.

What had been a well-oiled, smooth sequence in my head, turned into a total cluster in execution. For one thing, I had an autolocker on my long anchor, which didn’t help at all. Next time I’ll use a regular twistlock, instead. Trying to hold the autolocker open, and make clips, was an unnecessary challenge; a twistlock would have eliminated that difficulty. For another, I just needed to have practiced before trying something like that high up, tired, as part of a very long, time-sensitive day. Shawn was over the top patient with my slow progress despite being on an uncomfortable and cold belay, and helped me refine my system and get smoother toward the top of the ladder with his encouragement and coaching, but what he made look so easy I found incredibly hard even when I got the sequence down. Before I take on the Pioneer Route at Monkey Face, another climb I’m considering for this year, I’ll be figuring out how to practice aiding bolt ladders until it’s much smoother and more efficient.

After the bolt ladder, I was pretty well exhausted. Shawn set off on lead, in a bit of a hurry since the belays had been cold and uncomfortable, among other things. We moved briskly up the last few pitches.

The pitch above the bolt ladder was extremely hard, even as second. I didn’t aid, but I did fall several times, and did take once or twice to clean gear (so, actually, that sounds a lot like aiding). I found the feet poor, the hands challenging, and the rock quality much more suspect than on the earlier pitches, requiring delicate hand and foot placements.

I was pretty well knackered at that point, but we somehow managed to make reasonably good time up the final pitches of the route. I’m sure they were fantastic — Shawn seemed to think they were — they just felt HARD to me at that point. Hard, and serious. The descriptions I’d read — that the climbing got serious at the bolt ladder — were spot on. Eagle Wall is a big wall, and that was a big climb — the biggest, hardest I’d tried. When we hit the final bolted belay, despite both of us being the type who likes to reach the very top for a summit, it was late enough in the day, and were were tired enough, that we didn’t even discuss doing the hike up to the summit. We had a snack, drank some water, and started rigging ropes for our rappel off the route.

I don’t know exactly what time it was when we rigged our first rap, but it wasn’t super late. My instincts were that we had enough daylight to get down through the raps, and get most of the way down the slabs before sunset if we moved efficiently.

The details here get a wee bit fuzzy, but I’ll hit the high points.

On our first rap, we set up a two rope rap with knots in both ends, and one of the ropes promptly got stuck STUCK. After resolving that issue, we rigged our second rap, and we both rapped down to our destination bolted anchor (a fairly long rap, but not near the end of 60 meters, and started to pull the ropes — this time, the ropes had twisted RIDICULOUSLY, making pulling the ropes impossible. We tried untwisting the ropes from our belay location, to no avail. After trying to unstick the ropes for some time, with me trying to figure out just how on earth one of us (meaning, most likely, Shawn) would re-lead that pitch (or pitches) to free the rope, with how tired we both were and the waning daylight, the solution was to ascend the rope using his ATC to lock off, and then free the rope. I don’t know where he found the energy, but Shawn did just that… he ascended the rope (at least a pitch – it may have been more, since he went out of my line of sight) to anchor in and then untwist the ropes and free them.

He successfully unstuck the ropes, rapped back down, and then from there we were extremely careful to not allow the ropes to twist, and also both switched to rapping on our low-friction modes (we were both on ATC-XP like devices) which significantly reduced the rope curl. We also did shorter raps, from there, and got down with relatively little incident from there despite a few small rope hang-ups.

The last two raps were by headlamp, but we were both relieved to get down, since the rappels had been more serious than anticipated. We quickly put on our approach shoes and polished off some water and a snack, backpacked the ropes and headed carefully down the steep slabs back to the trail. I was thankful we’d done the descent the night before at dusk, since those slabs would have been pretty scary doing them for the first time in the dark. With each step (finish the raps; getting down the slabs) we got happier and less stressed. When we hit the base of the slabs, and just had two and a half or so hours of boulder hopping and a half hour of good trail ahead of us, the mood was practically light. Usually boulder hopping is pretty hard on me — that night, boulder hopping felt incredibly easy compared to slippery and loose slabs by headlamp, and, the prospect of spending a night shivering on a ledge halfway up Eagle Wall.

We were able to get a text message out to Smitty and KT at about 7pm from the base of the slabs to let them know we were okay, and would be ready for a pickup about 10pm. Sure enough, we reached the car right about 10pm, devoured the water bottles Smitty and KT were so thoughtful to bring us, and grabbed dinner on the way home. Smitty and KT wanted to hear the story, but Shawn and I were both just so exhausted… about all we could manage was that the day had been really serious, and really great… and really fun now that it was over and we’d made it safely to the car.

Things I learned…
When more than one source says that something turns serious at a consistent point (e.g., the beta that this route got HARD or serious after the bolt ladder) pay that heed. I had a few really nervous days before Eagle Dance, wondering if I’d be able to do it — wondering if I was the best available partner choice for Shawn to meet that objective — on the up side, we did it. On the down side, I wasn’t as fast as I could have been, which contributed to us running out of daylight. If I had it to do over again, I’d still go — but maybe even with an earlier alpine start, and, I’d have more practice on bolt ladders under my belt.

Next, rope management on rappel is not optional. I’m always very careful to not allow the rope to flip or twist on rap … even with that care, that twistied and stuck rope was an eye opener. Had it been me and another partner out there, it would have taken me at least twice as long to ascend that rope as it did Shawn, if not longer. Paying very, very close to rappel setup, keeping the ropes managed as best as possible on rappel, and even doing shorter raps if the terrain allows might have eliminated some of the epic aspects of our raps off.

I did spend a fair amount of the day marveling over the level of discomfort we subject ourselves to, willingly, as climbers. My feet were killing me before I even put them in my approach shoes that morning, as were my knees. About three pitches from the top, Shawn cut open a cuticle, and I poked through to bleeding on three of my fingertips. The belays … well … uncomfortable might be an understatement. Some of them were just plain painful. Our descent got cold, even though we were prepared for it with layers.

But, I’d do it all over again, given the chance.

Some things went very well, given the seriousness and difficulty of the route. We made relatively good time up the route, all things considered. Our approach was smooth and fast, and we found our stashed gear quickly. The first four pitches really were just plain fun. And, even when we ran into hiccups, we worked together (though no question, Shawn carried more of the burden) and stayed positive and constructive, even under stress.

I do think I’ll enjoy some practice closer to the ground, in less remote locations, before taking on something that big and serious again. It was a fantastic adventure, I’m thankful that Shawn was up for it, very thankful for him getting us down safely, and I look forward to going back when I’m a bit stronger and more experienced so that I can share the leading burden the next time around.

Car door to car door was about sixteen and a half hours, I think. After that, we were happy for a relatively light day the next day, and we didn’t get a weather window for our other long objective. Epinephrine will have to wait for another trip.

Filed under: Epics, Red Rocks, Trip Reports

Gear Review: Bluewater Lightning Pro 9.7 dry rope

Thanks to the kindness of some friends in the biz (thanks, David, Jack and Larry), I was lucky enough to score a new Bluewater Lightning Pro rope for my most recent Red Rock trip. Here are some of my thoughts on rope shopping and selection, and a review of this particular rope, which gets two solid thumbs up from me after several hard days of use.

I’d been shopping ropes in the 9.7 – 9.9 range for awhile, and I’d considered ropes including the Bluewater Lightning Pro, Beal Booster, Petzl Nomad, Edelweiss Onsight Arc and the Sterling Evolution Velocity, but hadn’t decided which to buy.

The criteria I personally use when selecting ropes is the number of UIAA falls held in testing (see this Climbing Magazine post for more detail on skinny ropes and how UIAA falls aren’t just lead falls in the real world, at least, as of 2003); and, the weight per meter. For this rope, I knew I’d be getting a 70 meter, so weight was very important; and, since this will be my project rope, it had to be durable and have a higher than average UIAA fall rating so that I can take lead falls on it with less worry. I also prefer bicolor ropes, for ease of finding the midpoint when setting up rappels.

The Bluewater Lightning Pro 9.7 fit my bill perfectly. Only the Beal has a higher number of UIAA falls held in testing (9 to the Lightning Pro’s but the Beal is 2 grams per meter heavier, so the Lightning Pro won on weight. My workhorse rope right now is an Edelweiss 10.2 60 meter, weighing in at a little over nine pounds; on paper, the Lightning Pro 70 meter is about .2 pounds heavier, but I didn’t notice a difference packing it around; and, it packs down noticeably smaller in my rope bag than my 10.2, making it a great rope for traveling.

The bicolor pattern change is visible even in bright light (a complaint I’ve had about some of PMI’s bicolors, and even my Edelweiss). The rope comes with a narrow little tube-style rope bag which looks better equipped for carrying a rolled Thermarest than a rope, but maybe I’m just spoiled on my non-free rope bags.

Before leaving home, I flaked and reflaked the rope a few times to get the twisties out and to detangle it. The hand of the rope is quite nice; it felt really thin right out of the box, but at this point I’m getting used to the feel of 9.x single ropes, so it didn’t feel scary thin at all.

In real world use, the rope exceeded my expectations. We used it hard during the Red Rock trip — on everything from long easy multipitch to long hard multipitch to redpoint lead and toprope attempts. It caught falls comfortably, it feeds very nicely in a variety of belay devices including Petzl GriGris, ATCs, and ATC-XPs.

Edit: the Petzl Grigri technical specs show it rated for ropes sized 10-11mm. A number of online sources indicate that the range is “10-11mm (9.7 Accepted)” but I don’t have a test source or word from Petzl on that, so use at your own risk as always. Anecdotally, I caught one moderate lead fall on the rope with the Grigri without hesitation or any slip, but we didn’t take any huge whippers on the system.

The only catch we ran into was an unusually large amount of rope twist during our raps off of Eagle Dance — but that wasn’t the rope’s fault. I know that newer ropes are going to twist and curl more than older ropes on rappel; I also know that using a higher friction device (e.g., the ATC-XP in high friction mode) is going to aggravate the twist. After one epic-ly twisted rap and heroic rope rescue by Shawn after we had both rapped the lines on our ATC-XPs in high friction mode, we rapped in low friction mode and had almost no twisting on subsequent raps.

The rope (somehow) seems cleaner than my ropes usually do when I’ve put this kind of miles on ‘em at Red Rock… could be the dry treatment is just all spiffy and brand new, but the rope looks almost new even after several days of hard, dirty use.

All in all, I’m very happy with the Lightning Pro and look forward to pushing more limits on it on longer multipitch routes and hard sport climbs. I’m wishing I had the 60 meter version for everyday cragging, since it was noticeably smaller and lighter than my current 10.2 when the terrain got more challenging. The Lightning Pro also comes in an orange and turquoise “HERA” color scheme to raise funds for the HERA Womens’ Cancer Foundation, which is cool.

Bluewater will definitely be on my list to consider for future rope purchases after this. The relatively low weight, relatively high number of UIAA falls, the highly visible bicolor, and the rope’s performance in the field make this a solid choice for climbers looking for a dry rope in the 9.7 range.

For more information about the Lightning Pro and Bluewater’s other products, visit them online at http://www.bluewaterropes.com/ or connect on Facebook.

Filed under: Gear, Shameless commercialism

Red Rock Trip Report March 2009, part 2: Johnny Vegas and Solar Slab

As promised, here’s some more detail on our two long days in Oak Creek Canyon during the recent Red Rock adventure. No new photos yet, so only a little bit of eye candy on this post. You’ll find additional eye candy, and more information about our trip here and here. Thanks to Shawn and KT and Smitty for letting me use any of these photos, since I can’t remember/can’t tell who took which.

First up, our long day on Solar Slab in Oak Creek Canyon, at Red Rock.

One of my wishes for this year was to lead the whole of Solar Slab, in Oak Creek Canyon. It was a bit ambitious, given that I’ve only got about a solid year of trad leading under my belt, and much of that has been two steps forward one step back. I’d also had an unsuccessful attempt on the Solar Slab Gully during my first Red Rock trip… so the place had some memories attached to it.

After reading a bunch of trip reports, and getting some tips from Luke at DreaminVertical and my Vegas local buddy John, I felt ready to make that goal part of my trip this March. We divvied up partners and gear (Shawn and KT teamed up, and I was lucky enough to have this smiling face as my partner for the day)

my buddy, Smitty. I’d be on lead all day, and I was excited about that challenge. From what I’d read and heard, the climbing wouldn’t be terribly difficult, but leading is still a head game for me, so I knew it would be a long, hard day mentally even if physically the climbing was easy. Shawn loaned me doubles in mid-size Camalots, since I don’t yet have a full rack myself — of my own gear, I had with me singles in Black Diamond Camalots from purple to blue; three mid-range Metolius Master Cams; two sets of nuts (one set of DMM Wall nuts; one set of Black Diamond stoppers); and a handful of slings, biners, lockers, and quickdraws. Shawn and KT set off in the lead, and once they were on their way, I headed up the route. As I started the first pitch, a friendly voice from around to the left gave friendly and helpful advice… I thought it had to be John — he and climbing partner Matt were on Beulah’s Book, calling out helpful encouragement and support to get me off the ground. Only fitting to meet a “climbing friend from the Internet” for the first time in real life one pitch up in Oak Creek Canyon.

Johnny Vegas was just, plain, fun, the whole way up. I’d heard ratings from 5.6 R to 5.7, and I’ve seen descriptions of three and four pitches. My recollection is that we did it in four pitches, and that we did a 5.9 variation on one of the pitches (but the day is a wee bit of a blur, and I don’t have the guidebook myself, so I can’t say for sure). The only climbing that felt hard was the 5.9 variation we took — it was one move for the taller folks, two or three moves for us shorter folks — but it was well-protected (I downclimbed to put in extra gear when I sensed a difficult/cruxy move coming on) and then protected by one bolt once you executed the crux move. We took a variation at the top (the reported “best pitch” is a 5.9 variation to the right; I, by mistake, took an off route easy variation to the left) so I’m a bit bummed I missed that pitch, especially since the rope drag was pretty terrible on the variation I did take, but that’s life.

Overall, the belay ledges were comfortable, the bolted anchors confidence inspiring, the pro was reasonable for the grade, and I had a blast (and so did Smitty).

We kept the speed up on our changeovers pretty well, despite being a newer climbing team together and despite this being my first really big route as a leader. We were right on KT and Shawn’s heels leaving the ledge to start Solar Slab, and its 7-ish pitches going at 5.6 climbing.

Despite being “easier” on paper, the fatigue of that much time on lead caught up with me a bit on Solar Slab. Those pitches really run together… I remember a few pitches feeling extremely run out, although they were on really easy terrain. I know I was placing gear, since I’d wind up with an empty rack by the time I reached each bolted anchor — but it sometimes didn’t feel like I had enough gear for the pitches. Smitty was awesome, though — he stayed positive even when his energy started to drop, and although our changeovers slowed a bit by the last few pitches, we still made reasonable time given everything. KT and Shawn left us in the dust about three pitches from the top of Solar Slab, but that we’d kept up with them that long made me feel pretty good.

I had a little routefinding issue toward the end… Our plan was for both parties to stick together, since he had the topo and was in the lead; I had the topo *just about* memorized, but things got a bit foggy for me there at the top. Next time, I’ll be sure to have my own topo in my pocket, no matter what. Anyway – toward the top, I saw Shawn skip a belay on what seemed to be a very short pitch, so I did the same (I was climbing on a 70 meter, he on a 60 meter, so I felt confident at that point in skipping the belay). I mistakenly cruised right past the one-bolt anchor that I should have used to belay (with additional gear for a proper anchor), and kept climbing. For a long, long time. I finally reached a ledge, with a great, well-seated boulder, and figured I had to be just about out of rope even on my 70 meter. I had one yellow Camalot left on my rack, so I braced myself behind the boulder for Smitty’s belay, with a well-placed yellow Camalot for an acceptable but not optimal anchor. I called as loud as I could, but guessed that Smitty couldn’t hear me. I put him on belay, and started tugging up rope until I could tell he was climbing, and belayed him up.

When he got up to the ledge, we lost some time. Our changeover wasn’t super fast, and I wasn’t exactly sure where to go from there since Shawn and KT had already topped out. It looked like slabby, easy terrain up to a steep chimney / crack finish. I backed up the anchor with gear Smitty had cleaned, and went back on belay. Just above and to the right of where I’d anchored was a set of bolted anchors, but in chatting with Smitty later, my instincts were right to belay where I had since I was very nearly to the end of my 70 meter rope. I don’t believe I would have had enough rope to reach that bolted belay, and while I’m comfortable simulclimbing in some settings, that would not have been one of them.

I climbed the easy slabs up to the impressive left-leaning dihedral. I climbed that, placing gear as I went, to a very short (fun) chimney section, then popped out on top. Shawn met me there to help me belay Smitty up. We had time for a quick high five and to change into our approach shoes to head back down since we’d planned the Painted Bowl descent rather than rapping off. KT and Shawn had a bit of a wait for us at the top because of my routefinding issues at the end, so they were chilly, windblown and ready to rock and roll off of there.

Lessons learned…

I need to accumulate more slings (I ran out on every single pitch, leading to some really remarkable rope drag in places), and I’m happiest and most comfortable climbing with a full double rack including small cams (which I was very, very light on for this trip). The parts of the climbing that I felt could have been better protected would have easily protected with C3s or TCUs.

I also need to have my own topo and descent information, in my pocket, no matter what, when I’m leading multipitch routes. Had something happened, I would have gotten Smitty and I up that route no problem, even without the routefinding coaching from Shawn. I would have been utterly lost at the top, though, without my own descent beta. Even climbing with other parties, I need to be responsible for my own ascent and descent beta, just in case.

On the other hand, and perhaps most importantly, I learned that I *can* do it. I can lead on gear, and I can lead big, tall, multipitch routes on gear. At no point during the day did I chicken out, or did my head go negative. I just knew that for that day, I was responsible for keeping myself and Smitty as safe as possible; making the best possible choices to do so; and for getting us up and down that route safely. It was a bit of pressure, but it was so much fun, and Smitty was so much fun, that it wasn’t too heady.

There were a few sections of the runout climbing where I had to channel Steph Davis and stay calm and flow, and push any fear out of my brain since I did feel (even though I was only on 5.6) like I was soloing. Any potentially scary parts, I knew wouldn’t last long, and that there would be good pro or a nice bolted anchor coming up in just a little bit. I smiled and sang my way up much of the route, and really, stayed much more relaxed than I usually do on lead…. I think, in part, because I had no real choice.

All in all, it was an unbelievably memorable day. I learned a lot, I had a great time, Smitty had a great time, and we did the best we could all day. I appreciated Shawn and KT’s patience, despite unpleasant conditions at the top, and appreciated Smitty’s positive attitude and pack-mule willingness, since he did the bulk of the hauling for the approach and hike out.

We hit the trail head about 6:30 in the morning (we parked outside of the loop, so that we didn’t have to bother with a late exit pass). We reached the car, after a trailfinding mishap on the way out which lead us to the Oak Creek parking area (inside the loop) at about 8pm, I think, for a car door to car door time of 13.5 hours. Had we made the right trail on the way out, we probably would have shaved a half hour to 45 minutes off that. For the length of the approach and having done the Painted Bowl descent, and, the length of the climbing day, that was pretty respectable time-wise. We were down and off the slabs into the boulder-hopping by the time it got dark, so the trip out really wasn’t bad even by headlamp and moonlight.

That day will go down as one of my proudest ever, despite the fact that there are many things I could do better. I’m thankful for the experience, and for the fun we had, as well as for the safe ascent and descent.

Filed under: Red Rocks, Trip Reports

Outdoor gear roundup

Here are a few of the hot deals and gear tidbits that hit my inbox this week:

Much to the dismay of my credit card bill, Mountain Hardwear’s Women’s Nitrous Jacket has hit the market and is available from Altrec.com and REI.com among other retailers. I’ve been in lust with this puffy ever since seeing an early announcement from my buddies at Mountain Hardwear. Lovely quilting, 800-fill down, EcoSensor Ripstop body using recycled polyester… Mmmmmmm… beloved blue puffy is on its last legs, after all…

OMC’s winter stash sale has an enviable gear sale going at 35% off (including Black Dimond cams & Omega Pacific link cams and a bunch of climbing shoes)

Backcountry has Wild Country cams, Camp Tricams and other #climb goodies on sale, as well as up to 70% off premium outerwear.

Moosejaw has 20% off on select brands with coupon code 711 and new items on sale/clearance

Altrec has a 25% off coupon on all sale items, coupon code LUCKYYOU

The IBEX Womens’ outlet is stocked full of fantastic bargains…

and, last but not least, Patagonia just added a bunch of new stuff to their web specials.

Enjoy…

Filed under: Deals, Gear, Shameless commercialism

Outdoor gear roundup

Here are a few of the hot deals and gear tidbits that hit my inbox this week:

Much to the dismay of my credit card bill, Mountain Hardwear’s Women’s Nitrous Jacket has hit the market and is available from Altrec.com and REI.com among other retailers. I’ve been in lust with this puffy ever since seeing an early announcement from my buddies at Mountain Hardwear. Lovely quilting, 800-fill down, EcoSensor Ripstop body using recycled polyester… Mmmmmmm… beloved blue puffy is on its last legs, after all…

OMC’s winter stash sale has an enviable gear sale going at 35% off (including Black Dimond cams & Omega Pacific link cams and a bunch of climbing shoes)

Backcountry has Wild Country cams, Camp Tricams and other #climb goodies on sale, as well as up to 70% off premium outerwear.

Moosejaw has 20% off on select brands with coupon code 711 and new items on sale/clearance

Altrec has a 25% off coupon on all sale items, coupon code LUCKYYOU

The IBEX Womens’ outlet is stocked full of fantastic bargains…

and, last but not least, Patagonia just added a bunch of new stuff to their web specials.

Enjoy…

Filed under: Deals, Gear, Shameless commercialism