MudNCrud Forums
Climbing and ... Climbing => Masters of Mud -- Pinnacles => Topic started by: CruxLuv on March 08, 2012, 02:52:38 PM
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Hey gang - if anyone is inclined, I would love to hear about how/where/why you got started and who was instrumental in your education. It seems to be such a deep and experienced community here.
It might also be fun to hear about any stories you have about mentoring new climbers.
I'm part of a fledgling group and look forward to getting a couple decades under our belts and history to share with each other - and others.
Thanks!
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Wow. That'll take a bit of time. (I can get wordy which makes up for the young age) I'll get on it and post back later.
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faked my climbing degree so i could sleep with the coeds. >:D
now my coed lives with me.
she only sport climbs but has never climbed in a gym.
learned from my buds dad. he took who took classes with a desert rat in josh in the late 70s/early 80s
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I can get wordy
Bring it!
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Started off bouldering at Castle Rock left when I got disenchanted during the bolting and scrubbing craze. Heard about The Pins. Been down hill ever since. All my different partners have been influencial in one way or another but the one person that influenced me more than any other is Clint Cummins. I was fortunate to have climbed with him for several years. I should have learned more.
When I first started climbing at The Pins it was common and almost necassary to have some form of rack. After a couple of years I started climbing in the Valley and other places. Was always happy to come back to the Pinnacles. Have been climbin since 86, have had a couple of good days but still trying to figure it all out.
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she only sport climbs but has never climbed in a gym.
I swore I would never climb in a gym or climb a sport/bolted route. Now I do both but consider the gym more just for fitness since most of the holds are so unrealistic and the ratings don't hold up compared to th real thing...never say never...
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School of hard knocks....
TM Meadows Rock class with my bro...next day GreatWhite Book with a partial set of nuts, hexes and 1 #2Camalot. My brother tells his english teacher about it..his reply...."yeah I soloed it".
Then we learned to clip bolts a few years later @ Mickey's. ThinLine was the 1st 10something lead I did. I pitch off just once.....
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I swore I would never climb in a gym...
If you're in SC then I assume you climb at Pac Edge. I can tell you from my experience that they set routes that feel more like outdoors than any other gym I can think of (Pac Granite, Touchstone, SportsOutlet, some gym in Boulder Colorado, the Hangar down in socal)
You're lucky to have a gym like that. Tom is the Shizz
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Cool question. I started climbing after a few months of "rock hunting" in the local hills around Cupertino, CA. Not exactly a "mecca" of stone but I was 12 years old and it was a walk/scramble away. The local park was mostly dirt, steep and dangerous and had killed more than a few kids before me.....stoners paradise of which I was not a card carrying member. My tools amounted to fairly routine items- hiking boots and a rock hammer but escalated quickly to nylon ropes, body rappelling and worse. I still can't believe I managed to move onto rock alive.
After a few sessions with a local guide at Castle Rock, I was ready for the real stuff....granite. This was '82-83 so keep in mind that no rock gyms existed so I had to find someone to guide me in Yosemite. I was fortunate enough to have a father who was friends with none other Leigh Ortenburger (yes THE Leigh of Tetons fame) who at the time lived in nearby Palo Alto. He put me in touch which a Sierra Club member who recommended a guide. For the paltry sum of $100 my brother and I were chaperoned to Yosemite where we spent a day learning anchors, placing gear (base of Churchbowl) and multi-pitch climbing on the apron and Manure Pile. Great memories.
A short while later a trip to Europe with my family resulted in a first rope (Cousin POS that was white with red that turned pink after a wash), Shoes (Fires!), Cams (FRIENDS for $18-$25 each!), and Nuts (WC Rocks). What a trip.......
Fast forward to my first leading outside and none other that the Pinnacles. I still remember that first Pinns trip...wandering around looking for climbs I could TR. Back then.....it was slim pickens.
Still love it- what a sport.
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Let's see if I can inspire a few more stories...
I'm dedicating this history/story to Martin Hackworth, Keith Phelps and John Bronaugh.
I've always had a hunger for adventure.
My first memory of climbing something scary was one summer in the late 60's. Two little kids (8 years old) scrambling and clinging to a dirt/clay precipice about 100 feet high - Deadman's Cliff in Akron, Ohio. We used whatever we could get our hands on (hatchet, garden tools, etc.) to chip holds in the hard clay. We even eventually established a little cubby way up near the top for afternoon lunch breaks(bologna sandwiches on Wonder bread as I recall). We spent all our free time in the woods hiking, climbing trees to get wind rides, finding vines to swing on and floating down the Little Cuyahoga on really hot days(before it caught fire).
I remember once as a teenager (14 or 15) climbing about 40 or 50 feet up a vertical face on the sandstone in Virginia Kendall Park. It was straight up, but there were horizontal cracks the whole way (irresistible). I got to the top and realized I was on an isolated island outcrop and there was no other way down. Shaking all the way, I downclimbed with my buddy on the ground directing my feet - I couldn't see below and couldn't hang off to look down.
A few years later we moved to KY and the Red River Gorge became my playground on weekends and summers. I had a habit of getting myself and sometimes my friends in sketchy situations. One time we climbed down from the top of a tall ridge (well over 100 feet) to an upside down nose formation sticking off the cliff. A few crazily exposed moves down followed by a traverse that involved stepping/bridging across a void. My buddies still remind me of it when we reminisce and shake their heads in disbelief that they were crazy enough to follow me.
I wasn't introduced to technical trad climbing until my late 20's (1987-89). My piano teacher Tina and her boyfriend John Bronaugh were heavy into climbing at the gorge and invited me one weekend. John led a beautiful dihedral with a roof (Vector Trouble 5.10a) followed by Tina - then they toproped it so I could take a shot. I remember watching him lead and getting sewing machine leg - I had no idea at the time what he was experiencing. John tied a sit harness for me from webbing and sporting my tennis shoes - I managed to get about 2/3 of the way up before peeling off in the crux while trying to instinctively layback up a finger crack - I took a huge swing...screaming as they laughed hysterically at the bottom. They told me when I came down that I made it way farther than they expected. That was it - I was hooked...
I spent every weekend for about the next 2 years seconding for trad leaders. There were almost no bolts in the Red at that time - it was all trad. I got to do some amazing climbs and became part of a small, tight-knit community of hardcore climbers. There was a guy who ran a small guide service out of Miguel's ice cream and pizza shop(still there) - the standard hangout for climbers after a day in the crags. He had a reputation for taking newbies out and thrashing them - though that was never my experience. He had also written the first guidebook I ever saw (Stones of Years) and established a plethora of classic lines. I don't remember exactly how we met, but Martin Hackworth and I became fast friends and started climbing together. He had a sarcastic wit (like me) and he was/is a no nonsense guy who tells you exactly what he is thinking - I like that! He took me up many of his favorite climbs, introduced me to double-rope technique and we played guitar together when we weren't climbing. Martin and I were often joined by an up and coming leader - Keith Phelps. Keith was a bold learner and took me up a few classic routes when Martin couldn't get out to the crags. I even managed to get in on two first ascents with Martin and others and got my name in the new guidebook(written by John Bronaugh). The climbs are on Coffin Ridge - Pine Box 5.9** and Mental Mantle 5.8*
One of Martin's funniest stories was the day he was hired to take David Lee Roth and his bandmates out for a day of climbing. Martin sang "Just a Gigolo" up at Roth while he was thrashing and failing on Vector Trouble (on toprope). Wish I'd been there!
I fell out of climbing (pun intended) when sport climbing became the rage in the late 80's and bolt routes started going up in record numbers. A passionate pastime that to me was a way to get away and share close bonds with highly ethical and dedicated traditionalists was suddenly popular - my worst nightmare! It didn't help that I had begun working nights in a newly opened Toyota factory. I gradually lost touch with my climbing buddies and many of them moved on to other places or pursuits. Martin and John acted as route police for a few years - occasionally having to chop bolts from established trad routes. Martin moved to Idaho and John died suddenly of a heart attack while climbing a route called Finger Lickin' Good 5.10c R** - one of Martin's many fine FA's.
I never led anything in the Red but I did occasionally free solo a few short routes after I "quit" climbing - Beginner's Nightmare 5.1*, Haystack Rock 5.3X* and Courthouse Rock's Standard Route - 70 feet of serious/committing 4th class.
Now after a 20+ year hiatus, my wife and I made a deal - I would go to the gym (aaack) if she learned to ride the unicycle. She's still trying to break free on the wheel, but one thing led to another (again, pun intended) and I decided it was now or never to start leading outside. I want to get as much adventure as I can, while I'm still physically able. Stepping off the ground on my first lead a couple of months ago in the High Peaks has been a real game changer for me. I no longer follow - I lead - and I don't plan to climb anything that I can't lead...okay...your turn...
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If you're in SC then I assume you climb at Pac Edge. I can tell you from my experience that they set routes that feel more like outdoors than any other gym I can think of (Pac Granite, Touchstone, SportsOutlet, some gym in Boulder Colorado, the Hangar down in socal)
You're lucky to have a gym like that. Tom is the Shizz
I have heard other folks say similar things. I do feel lucky and Tom has been great - although I rarely see him lately. They have a 5.9 route on the arete right now that is the best one yet - gives a nice exposed feel. I also have to say that after leading a few of the 5.7's at Pinns and then doing a 5.7 at PE...a 7 at the gym feels at most like a 3 outside...and some of the crux moves on the 7's at Pinns feel more like 9's at the gym...of course that may just be the adrenaline talkin'!
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I spent my childhood going to the Pinns, (and J-Tree, Yosemite, Death Valley, Red Rocks, etc) with my father (a herpetologist who taught at USC, UCSF, and other lesser known institutions) and spent all of my time there, hiking, and catch/releasing lizards and snakes. There were a few memories that I have of seeing climbers up in the high peaks and my father scoffing at them and calling them thrill-seeking who destroy the natural resource experience for everyone. It never occurred to me to climb or even see another side to the coin and so my life went on.
It wasn't until I became a teacher at the age of 26 that things changed. I had my summer's free now and wanted to get back into summer camp work which was an important part of my upbringing. The camp I chose was Shaffer's High Sierra Camp near Tahoe and when I got the job I was informed that I needed to take part in one of the 3 core activities of water sports, mountain biking, or rock climbing/ropes course. Being 120lbs and prone to hypothermia, I did not want to go into any alpine lakes and having ridden my bike on fire roads before and thinking I would die painfully the entire time, I decided I would be an "instructor" during that summer in rock climbing. (this is rather uncommon for my camp as most of our activity staff are well-versed in their activity area. I was a special case due to my vast camp counseling experience and experience teaching)
When I got tot he camp, i threw myself into learning everything that I could about climbing so that I would not be a burden to the climbing crew and so read John Long's Rock Climbing and Advanced Rock climbing cover to cover over and over until i could quote the texts verbatim. Though I lacked practical experience, within a week I was able to instruct on theory quite well and left the practical application instruction to my peers.
On the staff was a couple of guys (Grizz and Silvo) that became my climbing partners and ended up teaching me everything I knew by taking me out all over Tahoe and roping me up and telling me to "go for it" My slab instruction consisted of "just step on the rock and trust it." my crack instruction consisted of "shove something in and twist it till it hurts then stand/pull up on it" My rope work instruction consisted of "WTF are you doing? don't do that anymore, do this."
Within weeks, I started to see rocks and boulders and outcroppings in a new way. When one of the workers at my camp caught me running my fingers over a boulder near the dining hall at the camp, trying to feel different ways to use friction on the rock face, he yelled, "J-Tree's got the bug, it's all over now!" (My summer camp has all its workers have nicknames and I chose J-Tree because of my hiking and camping experiences there with my father as a boy, of course, it has new meaning to me now)
After that summer I stayed with my summer camp climbed around the Bay Area and Yosemite every weekend that it didn't rain from then until today. My first Bay Area Rock Climbs book is littered with notations and comments in the margins (many of them angry insults hurled at the author concerning approach and descent info) My Climbing Director at my summer camp had no winter job and so every weekend I could go he would go as well. We pushed each other and I pushed myself remembering telling one of my friends, i'll be climbing 5.11 by next summer to which he replied, You'll be lucky to be climbing 5.9 by next summer. I only respond one way to a challenge and so dove into climbing like nothing else before in my life.
I would meet with Grizz at the Touchstone climbing gyms in the bay area after school every other day. We would climb until we couldn't anymore, go get food, eat, then return to the gym to climb until they closed or we couldn't move which ever came first. I have very distinct memories of getting into my car at the end of the night and not being able to work the stick shift because my hand and arm was still sore and seized up from the days workout. I would sit in the seat listening to the radio and reading guidebooks for 30 minutes or so before being able to drive home.
During this time Grizz and i decided to check out the Pinnacles. He'd never been and I remembered it from being a kid.
"What's the climbing like?"
"I don't know, the lizard hunting isn't very good though, but I know that snakes will bask on the side of the freeway at night to catch the last of the warmth and if the night is windy enough you can go out there and see them rolling down the side of the road."
"What?"
"Yeah, I don't know about the climbing"
So we went to the East Side for a Thanksgiving break and climbed at the Monolith and Discovery wall for a few days. I remember climbing Portent on thanksgiving day specifically so that we could eat a "feast" of turkey jerky while on a multi-pitch route. During the time we met some climbers from Kentucky who were there because their family lived in hollister. they were climbing while tied into the harnesses via a square knot and trying to climb some of the sport routes on the right side of Disco wall without knowing what they were rated. I showed them the guidebook and Grizz showed them a better way to tie into the rope. Later they almost froze to death because all they'd brought to sleep in the campsites was a thin blanket and a hammock.
The Pinnacles changed my climbing though. A week there taught me how to pull myself into the wall with my feet and legs, how to high step, hand/foot match and so forth. The next week we were at the gym and where I was stuck on climbing 5.10c's for the last month or two, all of the sudden, i was able to climb 5.11b's. the Pinnacles had internalized a style of climbing that used my whole body instead of my legs. I continued my gym workouts and weekend outdoor climbing in places like Castlerock (mostly at Summit Rock pre-closure) Indian Joe Caves, and the Grotto.
Later in the year, right before going back to my summer camp, we took a road trip to J-Tree and ended up at Wheeler Gorge on the way home. I led my first 5.11 on the last day of my trip. Called Silvo and told him to suck it. What kind of person does that make me to let an angry desire to disprove someone control so much of my drive and emotion? A shitty one, but whatever, I lead a 5.11 sucka!
Up to this point, my main and only climbing partner had been Grizz. We spent the summer with Silvo climbing more in the Tahoe area and put up some insignificant FA's in the hills an hour north of Tahoe where the camp proper is, but nothing worth talking about. After that summer, we went to Yosemite and everything changed.
Enough for now.
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One of the best things you can do for yourself at Pac Edge is to do laps on the slab wall first thing on the right. There's always at least a few hard routes that force you to make big moves on small bits on the slab. The moves aren't just stupid hard, but force you to feel your body as you make minute adjustments setting up for the movements.
Of everything at that gym, those routes can help with outdoor movement more than anything else I've done.
And never again compare grades in the gym to the outdoor realm. There's no point and it's not helpful.
Use the gym to internalize how movements between certain spacings of holds feel. This works on 5.2 climbs and 5.12 climbs. Then when you're outside, you learn to superimpose parts of the gym over the rock in front of you. Once it "clicks" you can "onsight" part of an outdoor climb you've never been on because it's something you've climbed a thousand times before in the gym.
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One of the best things you can do for yourself at Pac Edge is to do laps on the slab wall first thing on the right. Of everything at that gym, those routes can help with outdoor movement more than anything else I've done.
And never again compare grades in the gym to the outdoor realm. There's no point and it's not helpful.
That is great advice! I strained up a new route in the trough last night that is exactly as you describe.
I totally agree with the "never again" comparison of grades suggestion - there is no comparison.
I also feel like I know what you mean when you talk about climbing with your whole body when leading at Pinns. Your experiences around CA make mine seem puny but I also know it's not useful to compare your own experiences to anyone else's. If I compare my guitar playing to Al Dimeola I would never pick the thing up again!
My rope work instruction consisted of "WTF are you doing? don't do that anymore, do this."
I got a kick out of this while reading your story. I tried that approach with some newbies and it was not well received. We haven't climbed together since...
looking forward to reading part two of your history...
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It's interesting to read everyone's story. I do wonder from time to time how guys get started out because I've met a few climbers in the gym who are eager to get out, but have a hard time finding outdoor mentors and partners.
I envy you people who got out while young. I spent my youth studying, reading, or watching TV, etc. being a very hardcore couch potato. I had the belief that it takes certain genes to be in any sort of sports and I don't have any. Moving to the Bay Area after grad school changed my life because I felt guilty staying indoor when it was nice out. And it was nice out a lot. So I started tagging along on some public hikes by a local Sierra Club chapter. I made friends who were into other outdoor activities besides hiking, such as rock climbing. Now that I think about it, the first outdoor trip I was taken on was to the Pinns. Ha!
It was not too long before I started dating an experienced rock climber. As far as learning "the ropes" goes, that's really a great way. (Now you see why I'm always curious how guys get started.) When we parted ways, I was already on my way to be independent -- I equipped myself with a complete trad rack including some big pieces. Can you believe I flew to Colorado by myself after reading an article about Vedauwoo, and hooked up with someone I responded to on Craigslist and had a blast (trip report (http://www.mxi2000.net/mudworm/2005/07/whare-are-all-my-traddies-at-devils-tower-vedauwoo-and-eldo))? ;D
Climbing (or was it F4?) led me to Mr. Mud. He tolerated my Valley and Sierra craze for quite a while and took me up many classic lines (I'm not that independent after all although I did share some leads), but it seems that once it was clear that we would join our lives together, he just wanted to go to the Pinns. Okay, to be fair, many things happened that led to the shift, which involve a broken finger, busy work schedule, other newly found passions, and... a few cats. The best climbing days might be behind us, and I think I'm okay with it.
Okay now, CruxLuv, what's your story???
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You're lucky to have a gym like that. Tom is the Shizz
Absolutely!
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Okay now, CruxLuv, what's your story???
Wow - I can't wait to do more than skim these! Unfortunately I'm on day two of a gnarly migraine and home instead of having lunch on Old Original with waldo and friends.
Damn, damn, damn! >:(
I'll give my short but sweet story some effort...
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You're lucky to have a gym like that. Tom is the Shizz
Though I don't want to slight the manager at my own gym. Diabo Rock Gym in Concord has Hans Florine who shares his techniques and philosophies of light is right with anyone and everyone. Hans is also the shizz.
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I'm actually astounded that it took me this long to get serious about climbing. I think I just never had the opportunity or outlet. I've always been a bit of a monkey/billy goat and loved climbing trees and scrambling up rocks/mountains. As my friend used to describe me: Oh, that looks hard - let's do it!
But that was a couple decades ago and adult fears crept in I suppose, so I didn’t do much rock hopping. (And still, my least favorite part of climbing is the exposure on some approaches and trails when I’m not tied in!)
Last May I conned a few girlfriends into taking a six weeks women's class at Pac Edge even though I'd never climbed there or anywhere else "for real". Three of us were hooked from the get-go! Haven't looked back and, in fact, have plunged head long into it and managed to wrangle my anti-climbing hubby into it.
We were at the gym at least three times a week, soaking it up and advancing as much as possible. Not really thinking about taking it outside. At that point, the appeal was the novelty of doing something different with my body and getting stronger. Climbing actually made me move differently in everyday life – a whole new awareness of balance and space.
One day I was grinding my way up to Sand Point on my mtn bike looking at the ground and thinking…hm, there’s a good hold…that’s a crimper…there’s a sloper…
Yeah – hooked.
In July, a friend of a friend took us to Castle Rock and we played on Swiss Cheese. It was a great first experience outside but that particular location just didn’t call me.
It wasn't until September that a couple of us took Scott's Pac Edge Pinn Trip. Again...hook, line and sinker! Swallow's Crack will always have a special place in my heart as it was my first taste. Luckily the weather was in our favor and we were able to go out Oct thru Dec with him as well. On a very, very cold day (learned about screaming barfies!), I managed my first outdoor TR 5.10 on Terranian Tango - again, a special place in my heart.
But that was only once a month and not near enough. I was downright craving that mud (crud?).
I have since taken Tom’s Lead Class, outfitted myself with enough gear to fill a closet, learned how to set a top rope and hit Pinnacles as often as possible. Oh – and The Book, of course. You’d never know I’ve only had it a few months based on the number of dog ears, notes and wear it’s already sporting.
On a bright, beautiful, warm New Years Day I took my first lead - Sinbad. Whoop! Exhilarating to say the least. I’ve only done a couple other routes on lead – Big Bad and Corona – I’m in no hurry to chase numbers, just to have fun and enjoy the entire experience and people I’m with. I’ll get there.
Early on, more than one person told me that the best thing about climbing was the community. I nodded politely since I’d been part of communities before: road biking, mtn biking, running…but they were right. The people I’ve met and friends I’ve made in this short amount of time are amazing and very special. Maybe something to do with literally putting yourself in each other’s hands? Ya think?
What I’m most excited about is connecting with veteran climbers like waldo and Gavin. That’s where I’ll really learn the stuff to be safe, get to the next level and how to enjoy the journey. I’m very much looking forward to meeting more of you at Rockpile next month.
Some day I hope to be able to fan the flame of a new and eager climber and pass the torch.
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Wow, I leave for a week in Red Rocks and I come back to what, 50 or 100 new posts?
The "new blood" on this site has been very, very good (not that I haven't always been fond of the old blood too).
I started climbing in May 1983 at what I thought then was the "late" age of 22 years. Friends at UCSB took me to Gibraltar Rock in the mountains above the city. We climbed mostly with Gold Line and, later, with one perlon rope. On my feet I had Nike "Lava Domes," which were the first low-top hiking shoe (instead of boot). These were not climbing shoes at all, but they got some friction on sandstone and, after all, my feet didn't know any better. My friends had EBs (one also had glacier goggles; I'm not sure now what use glacier goggles were on California sandstone, but he sure looked like a climber).
They gave me lots of pointers and tried to teach me over several trips.
There were no such things then as climbing gyms. Sport climbing hadn't been invented and sticky rubber and active camming units were just appearing on the horizon.
After a year of trying to scrounge gear and climbing chances, I met up with my first true climbing partner, Carl. Carl had lots of gear, he knew what he was doing, and he'd done a WALL (The South Face of Washington Column).
Much of my formative climbing was at Pinns with Carl (I then lived in San Jose). I've absolutely loved climbing there ever since then. The rest of my early climbing was in The Valley and at Lover's Leap.
Like CruxLuv, I was hooked immediately. Within a year and a half of starting to climb I'd led my first multi-pitch route (January 1st, 1985 - I led both pitches of Lava Falls), and my first 5.10 crack climb (Peruvian Flake in The Valley). Within two years of starting I'd done my first Grade V aid wall (The South Face of Washington Column), my first Grade V in a day (Steck Salathe on Sentinel Rock), and my first El Cap Grade VI aid wall (Triple Direct).
Along the way I benefitted from Carl's mentoring for a while, and then got strong help from Dave Harden, Forrest Rade and Charles Field (known universally as "Footie").
I still climb often with Dave (twenty five years of climbing together as of this last February) and occasionally with Footie.
All of my strongest friendships originated from climbing partnerships.
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Joe Bryant and Jim Leach took Ed Foley and me out on February 2nd, 1977. We did Old Original and Twinkle Toes with Joe leading. We'd had some prior instruction at Granite Canyon during December of 1976. Ed and I, fathers both, decided that this was a great sport and cheap, too. We bought ropes (45 meter), shoes, swami belt material, a few oval carabiners, some tubular webbing and we were set. In truth, there wasn't much else to buy. I soon went in search of Stubai carabiners, however, after reaching a number of bolt hangers with too small holes while leading, a disappointing experience. We used the Richards guide and had loads of fun. Ed and I went up to Tuolumne to take a course in August of 1977 and acquired the rudiments of safe climbing, though much has been learned since then. Partners are indeed the best of friends and not only because terror forms bonds that can't be broken. Misery helps too, and beer.
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and beer.
Cheers!
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I've always been a bit of a monkey/billy goat and loved climbing trees and scrambling up rocks/mountains.
good story crux...
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I've got connect with up with some of you fellow Pac Edgers! I'll be there tomorrow (Tues) at 8pm, PM me if you want.
Oh yea, the thread... I also learned to climb at Pinnacles and Castle rock. BC (Before climbing) I initially dabbled with rappelling, including questionably "legal" descents of several bridges in Cupertino, mud cliffs in the quarries in Stevens Canyon, and Goat rock. But my first real rock climb was at Pinnacles, on Portent, with my Boy Scout troop. I loved it despite the fact that I sucked, and was very frightened after getting more than 10 feet up! After that experience, we came to two conclusions: 1. Going up was much more fun than coming down, and 2. Climbing was more fun that pretty much anything else.
After that we spent much all available weekends at Castle or the Pinns, top roping or team leading routes like the Wet Kiss, Dos Equis, and Lava Falls. My first leads were on Costanoan.
I probably could have benefited from being mentored by a more experienced partner, but I was very shy and pretty much only initially climbed with my younger brother, and another equally inexperienced guy from the Boy Scout troop. Luckily we survived.
After a couple years of climbing locally, we discovered Yosemite where we took an anchoring class for Yosemite Mountaineering School, and started to epic on long granite routes and walls, but that's another story...
Jake
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but that's another story...
I'm all "ears"!
And I can't freakin wait to do Costanoan.
I'll PM you about tomorrow night- 8)
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Still love it- what a sport.
That's why everyone keeps coming back-
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I no longer follow - I lead -
Can't imagine you as a follower...
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I somehow forgot to mention the book "How to rock climb" by John Long. That book is really how we learned at first... that and a lot of trial and error.
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Jake, you still climb?? Or are you posing again at Pac Edge with that guy that make them berrys??
You still need to recount the high point of your career....bolting boot flake back onto the wall ;D
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This is KC of JC w KC redux…
I grew up loving the outdoors and being a total tomboy, always trying to do everything my big brother did. As I got older, life got in the way and I didn’t get outside as much as I wanted to. In 1994 I met my future husband (JC) and our first “date” was a trip to the Red River Gorge in KY. We hiked to a place called Courthouse Rock (me in my tennis shoes) and he proceeded to take me up a 4th class scramble to the top – a kind of outward slanting/flaring chimney that led to a steep ramp – total of 70 feet. I was nervous, but I refused to let it show. I wanted to make a good impression, so I just sucked it up and got to the top. On our way back down the approach trail, John took a wrong turn and the next thing I heard was a loud thump. I turned to see blood running down John’s forehead. He was wearing a visor and had accidentally turned and stepped down the wrong direction. Realizing his error, he turned around and moved/stood up right under a small overhang. Lesson learned? Never wear a visor or hat while hiking around rock outcrops! We had to hike all the way back out (45 minutes) and then drive back to Lexington (1 ½ hours) before going to the emergency room where John got 4 staples in the top of his head. Even with all that excitement, that day was a turning point for me. I realized how much I missed being outside and remembered how much I enjoyed nature. The next thing you know, we were buying me hiking boots, a climbing harness, climbing shoes, camping equipment, etc. The first year or two we were together, we spent every nice weekend hiking and doing some lower grade climbs in the Red. KY ain’t the best place for good weather, but we got out often enough that I was totally hooked. I’ll never forget the day we took the camcorder with us to film our climb. We realized we were not going to be able to use it, so John put it in his daypack and climbed up. As he was topping out, he took one arm out of the strap, swung the pack around and the camcorder case tumbled out. We both watched as it tumbled to the belay ledge, stopped for a second (GASP!) and then fell about another 100 feet – SMACK! We realized afterwards that John had zipped both zippers up to the top of the pack and they worked loose/opened while he was climbing – OOPs…another lesson learned. Do you see a pattern here? We hiked down to retrieve the camcorder but it was DOA…
Life got busy again when we both decided to finish college and move to CA. We continued to enjoy hiking and the outdoors, but only toyed occasionally with the idea of getting back into climbing. We actually visited Pinnacles before moving here and I remember seeing runners and bolts on a few really exposed pinnacles and thought – dang – I like to climb - but that is CRAZY! Funny how perspectives change!
Last year at the end of March, one of my girlfriends sent me a message wanting to know if I’d be interested in taking a Women’s Climbing Class at Pacific Edge. Knowing how much I enjoyed it almost 18 years before, I jumped at the chance to take the class. I was totally hooked (as were two of my girlfriends). We were at the gym every chance we got (usually 3 times a week). What a great bonding experience for the three of us (nothing like trusting your partner with your life). I tried several times to get my husband to join me at the gym but he swore he would never climb indoors. While I was enjoying the indoor climbing he learned to ride the unicycle. He wanted me to ride too and I told him I would start riding when he started climbing at the gym. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place (pun intended) since he had already secretly ordered a unicycle for me. He tried the gym and under protest admitted it was fun and a great workout. Now he had “the bug” again and we started talking about climbing outdoors.
As an early Christmas present to ourselves we bought all the equipment to try some bolt routes in the Pinns, and a copy of Brad Young’s Guide to the Pinnacles. On a Sunday morning around the middle of December we took off for our first Pinns climbing adventure. We decided John’s first lead and my first second was going to be a climb in the High Peaks on the Flat Iron (Regular Route 5.3) . We hiked our way up the High Peaks trail nervous and excited. Once we figured out the approach to the Flat Iron, we scoped everything out. John bouldered up almost to the first bolt in his hiking boots and saw that the bolt looked old and rusty. After an extended period of hemmin’ and hawin’ - John stepped up and started the climb. I still remember the look on his face when he got to the top and set the anchors – pure joy. Now it was my turn to clean the route. When I reached the top, I was totally psyched to be back on real rock! We haven’t looked back since – it’s a given that we are going to get up on Sat. mornings and head to the Pinns. I’m enjoying the role of second, and I managed to leave my comfort zone a few weeks ago and lead The Big Bad West – what a thrill! I also experienced my first 4th class solo in the Pinns on Kermit – I’m not sure who was happier when I got to the summit anchors (me or John). Yes, climbing has become my renewed passion (thus the redux). I’m enjoying the sport and all the people we’ve met. Part of the adventure each week is talking to other climbers about our/their experiences. I love this new phase of my life – here’s to many more years of climbing fun!
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Below is a quick write up of some of the early days of my climbing. I did not spend much time proofing this since I am short on time.
My first time using a rope was the main face up at Castle Rock. Not knowing what else to do we took 1" webbing and wrapped it around our waist a few times. That did not last long. For top rope anchors we just used lot's of knots. I think this scared someone more than they could manage so they showed us how to tie a harness and how to make a water knot of our anchors. My partner quickly bought a harness and I found a swami on sale. We eventually took a class at Indian Rocks located in the East Bay foothills. Do not know how we survived that initial break in period.
I climbed for at least six months in running shoes before picking up a pair of Fires. Crappy fitting shoe for my foot but wow what a difference. Within the first year I ended up going to Yosemite with a guy from work that climbed but spent most of his free time in a kayak. From there we ended up going to the Pinnacles and that was it. The place just hit a chord with me, I was not able to stay away. Went there every weekend in the Fall, Winter and Spring. Sometimes during the week and a couple of times before or after work ( I have pretty much always worked in Mountain View).
My first wall was the Nose on El Cap and a true adventure in every way. We had the official Hall Bag From Hell that a friend of mine sewed up the week before. It was made of black cordura with red 1" tubular webbing. The 1" webbing shoulder straps were pure mind numbing agony after 100 yards. The haul bag was so flimsy that it would wrap up and hang on every tiny little over hang. It was heiness, slow, maddening, epic fun (for me anyway). Fortunately we brought a full roll of duct tape because at least half a roll was used to tape up the holes in the haul bag at the end of each pitch. By the time we topped out it was mostly duct tape and beginning to actually hold its own. The haul rope was my lead rope which was some cheap ass 45 meter thing that came up short on a couple of occasions. Food, Powerbars had been out a few years and I was still psyched on these things so I insisted we buy half a case and go with that. Water, well I had read some story of Harding doing a wall with 1 liter of water a day or something, so that was it ( My partner snuck in some extra so we ended up having about a liter and a half of water per person per day). Weather, absolutely fantastic 100+ degree heat wave. It was so frigging hot the Devil himself turned on the AC. After lift off we actually had The Nose to ourselves. The start, we had no idea about leading the first four pitches then hauling. We lead and hauled the first four pitches then bivied on Sickle. The rack, lot's of stoppers and a little over one set of cams. I dropped about a quarter of the rack, on the second day, when the webbing came untied on my Alpine my harness (remember the self ties gear slings on those, they stretched).
Toward the end of the second day we were moving a bit slow as we approached Dolt Tower. I was trying to figure out what to do as I did not have enough rope to get to the anchors and I had spun around mid pitch so the haul rope and lead rope were all messed up. A rescue helicopter flys by and is hovering around behind us. I finally turn around and look and they are signaling if we need help and my partner is obviously saying yes. I flip them the bird and wave them off for a few minutes before they go away. After way to long we get to Dolt, my partner, well this is a good opportunity to introduce my partner.
He came up from Mexico and spoke very little English and really struggles to comprehend what I have always tried to pass off as Englis. In some ways it was really bad and in others we were blessed. The thing is he was running out of time on his VISA and really wanted to climb El Cap before he went home and finished his degree. He was really struggling to find someone that wanted to go up there with him since no one understood what he was saying. We climbed together for a couple of days before I figured out he wanted to climb El Cap. My vacation time was running out as well so we were co-dependent partners. For a warm up we went down to the Cookie and climbed the Nabisco Wall. That is when I found out his longest route until then had been a short two pitch climb and he was some what scared of heights. With short climbs the lack of communication was not to bad. On El Cap we would just yell at each other until we got frustrated then do what ever seemed right.
Well back to day two. We made it to El Cap Tower, he was to tired to talk me down at Dolt and even from Dolt the nice size and comfort of El Cap Tower is obvious. Once on that big ledge we were both to tired and hungry to argue so we ate and dropped of to exhaustion. I was up at first light it took no time to rack up since we did not have much. He wanted to go down but we continued. I really think he was just to parched to talk all that much. The heat was unreal. The walls were mostly empty. In later years I was shocked to see people all over the place. The were two guys over in the middle, somewhere by South Seas. They were easy to pick out since one guy had a big sombrero. I still remember throughout the wall hearing gals laughing and splashing down in the Merced. Back then you could park right next to the river below El Cap and there was a rope swing. We could see that big splash, here the gals laugh. Somehow we made it to Camp 5.
I remember him splitting a liter of water. Trying to make sure we both got half. A couple of drops back and forth. Like some kind of life altering experience. The problem for me was I had decided to eat my one can of tuna fish. I was so parched I could barely talk. Anyone with half a brain would have realized the dire outcome of such an action. That tuna fish stuck to the inside of my mouth and went no where. Out of desperation I tried to swallow. This compounded my predicament by gluing my sarcophagus closed. I was watching in a slow agonizing death spiral as my partner meticulously divided the water. I was gagging and trying to ask for water, I could not breath, my eyes were starting to water over. A final act of desperation I snatched a bottle from him. It was all in slow motion. I can still see the shock and anger on his face because a single drop of water missed the bottle I grabbed.
I quickly gulped some water to free up the tuna fish and the result was an explosion. The coughing fit was the size of the route we were on as I sucked in oxygen, water, and mashed up tuna. After sometime I regained my composure and looked over at my partner. He had not moved since I grabbed the bottle. Same expression, still holding his hand out. Just looking at me like, why on God's good Earth did I come up here with this guy. I pleaded for more water but that went no where. I finally settled back picked tuna out of my nostrils and tried to look like I was a real wall climber. Little did I know at the time that being in the state that I was, I looked the part. We both did. Totally dysfunctional, filthy, hungry, thirsty, tired, pissed off, and at that moment just happy to be where we were, on a big ass wall, in the middle of the adventure of my life.
We finally topped out and made it down. We got lost coming out of the woods and I swear ended up half way to Camp 4. On the seemingly endless trek back to my truck taking turns with that hideous hall bag, a car came by and my partner put out his thumb. I figured I had to be hallucinating since it pulled over. A little tiny compact that was half full of crap. My partner started talking to the passenger and the driver of the car, the passenger and myself just stared. None of us had any idea what he was saying. But it was obvious he was happy and grateful. After a bit my brain kicked in and I said thank you can you give us a lift to El Cap Meadow. They kind of understood me, we were both kind of babbling. After there initial shock of hearing "English" they hurried us in. We got in the back and the passenger pilled our gear in on top of us. Soon all the windows were hurriedly being rolled down as even I, in the back seat, realized the the stench of the two of us was of another world. Soon at my truck they kicked us out babbling and gleefully extolling our exploits and begging for water.
We quickly drove over to Degnans. Knowing it was late and that they would most likely closed I drove took every chance and drove fast. When we got to Degnans they were closed. So we just stared. We should have left since the place was deserted escept for two lone guys cleaning up. But we could not bring ourselves to leave. After a bit one employee notices us and starts talking to the other. One guy cracks the door open and asks if we were looking for food and we both respond with a loud raucous yes, my partner is was trying to claw his way in. After a bit of "No Really we are Closed" the guy in the back asks if we just climbed El Cap. I square my shoulders just a bit and answer yes. He then asks "Did you guys just get off the Nose"?. I straighten up a bit more puff up and grow in stature by at least 4 inches and 20 pounds and very proudly answer yes. The guy looks me square in the eye and says, "You guys were slow", SAR has been watching you. I shrank down in my squalor and dehydration and looked at the ground. He must have seen the rebuff cuz they let us in, at which point we bought every thing we could afford including a quart of Gatorade.
I drank a ton of water but did not piss for close to two days. We were both broke, but happy. We pulled off the impossible, conquered daemons, cheated the devil, amused the Fates, proved ourselves right, and others wrong. I was thinking of going back to work and he was thinking of how he could get back to Mexico. I do not know if he realizes just how thankful I was to have him as a partner. He pulled of an amazing feat by climbing El Cap with untested gear, with a half crazed, rabid, temperamental, white trash redneck. I screamed, yelled, threw temper tantrums, dropped his cherished hand made Made in Mexico cams, cursed all Gods real and imagined, and ran shit out way more than any person with my abilities had any right to do. He put up with it all, I may have been the motivational force but he was the Rock of Gabralter. I did receive a couple of stern lectures. I do not know a quarter of what he said, but 25 years later I think I have an idea. But, we topped out. It was an experience that will last us both a life time.
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God, change a few names and it all sounds so familiar. Very nice story Dennis.
And then there is this quote, which made much of our long climbing partnership suddenly clear: "we would just yell at each other until we got frustrated then do what ever seemed right." ;D
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Right, 1st climbing was Castle in 6th grade. Heck that was '83, so I'm right up there with you guys...
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Yep, and the amusing part of that is technically we speak the same language.
And then there is this quote, which made much of our long climbing partnership suddenly clear: "we would just yell at each other until we got frustrated then do what ever seemed right." ;D
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classic!
tune spew! LOL
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filthy, hungry, thirsty, tired, pissed off, and at that moment just happy to be where we were, on a big ass wall, in the middle of the adventure of my life.
Sweet write up! Had me wide eyed and grinning ear to ear. ;D
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I was totally hooked (as were two of my girlfriends).
I love this new phase of my life – here’s to many more years of climbing fun!
Amen, Sistah!!
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Thanks CruxLuv for starting the thread!
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I've forwarded Mud's story ( http://www.mudncrud.com/forums/index.php?topic=1656.msg18826;topicseen#msg18826 (http://www.mudncrud.com/forums/index.php?topic=1656.msg18826;topicseen#msg18826) ) to a few friends, climber or not, and told them about the thread. Too awesome to keep to myself. :D
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untested gear, with a half crazed, rabid, temperamental, white trash redneck.
I nearly deleted my post after reading this - what a great story!
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Can't imagine you as a follower...
I'll take that as a compliment - it's a sharp-end life!
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Glad you did not since your post inspired mine. Hopefully there are more to come from everyone.
I nearly deleted my post after reading this - what a great story!
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I asked Mr Mud, the Mexican dude's name was Jeño, although he didn't know how it was spelled (I just guessed based on the sound). Mud learned from a group of Mexican climbers he ran into that Jeño had quit climbing after the Nose and later became a professor. I'm not surprised that many people do one wall and and it becomes the last wall (although, what do I know about walls :D).
While getting all nastalgic, and remembering the people we hooked up with climbing, I remembered another episode. This time, it started with a partner call I responded to on Supertopo. Somehow, I decided handing the other end of the rope to a stranger was too risky, so I proposed that we would start the day by free soloing Royal Arches (http://www.supertopo.com/rock-climbing/Yosemite-Valley-Royal-Arches-Area-Royal-Arches). After that, we got on a day of offwidth training. A fun day! :)
"Life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get." -- Forest Gump
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Right before I went to The Valley for the 1st time, I went down to the Pinnacles...A friend & I set up a few topropes, at the Tourist trap & something at the Disco Wall. Anyway, we managed to have some fun & not die, so that's when I lit out for Yosemite, Well, within a week or so..... I had 6 stoppers, 2 cams, & a set of hexes. Did my first leads there, within hours of arrivin'. (homan!)
So far, so good.
Cheers.
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This might be a little long winded, but its raining outside and figure someone here might read it. And I got all emotional so more things came out as I was writing.
Learning The Ropes
Part 1 The 90’s
On February 4th, 1994, I walked into Pacific Edge at the ripe young age of 12 years old. I had spent the last year or so hanging out with a clan of troublemakers spending my hours rollerblading around Santa Cruz causing havoc. Rolling shopping carts into the river, pissing on drive-thru windows at night, and much of the normal “Junior High Havoc.” We immediately grabbed copies of the required waivers and forged our parents signatures before returning a few hours latter. We just bouldered that first day, but the seeds were set for learning the ropes. There seemed to be something important going on inside “The Edge”. Little did I know the impact that walking through doors of Pacific Edge would have on my life.
The next day found us at Bugaboo Mountain Sports, at the old location above the Blue Lagoon, where we put the little money that we had down on a layaway plan for BD Bod harnesses and ATCs. After a few weeks of random money making activities the harnesses and new belay devices were in our hands. We learned to tie knots from a book and then headed back to The Edge to take our belay tests. I’m sure they took one look at us and knew they would fail us but they let us finish the test anyway. We retook the test figuring it was a mistake, but we failed again. So we spent the afternoon watching others belay then went home and taught ourselves to do it like them. We came back that evening and took the test from non other then Andy Puhvel. I looked him straight in the eye and convinced him I had the focus necessary to do this task... while barely belaying. We both passed and headed straight for the ropes, with no interest in bouldering.
After a few slabby pitches on the right side of the gym I set forth to tackle the right side rope of the main buttress. It was way over my head and spent the better part of 10 minutes swinging out into space having a great time playing around... until a one-eyed man approached. I was ordered down immediately. My first Tom Davis lecture ensued. He left the message that this place was not meant for fooling around, this was real. That realness of it pulled me in for the first time in my life like nothing had before.
Within months I had surpassed my buddy, who dropped out when I sent my first 5.11. I begged my parents for a rope, a 10.5 Mammut Flash, and then I enrolled in Tom and Diane Russell's co-taught lead class. I had been pretty comfortable until then, but something about leading made me sweat like never before. I was terrified. I was super nervous and it didn’t help when Tom insisted I catch him on some lead falls. He took a few on the upper roof that I held with ease, then he took one fall on the Tuolumne Slab that almost pulled me through the first bolt. I started leading tentatively but wouldn’t belay a leader for a long while.
A year latter I was in the Second Wave of The Edge’s Youth Program taught by James Conn. He recognized the potential in me and found a way to get me out of my belaying fears. During this class I was pushed and was able to conquer the Great Roof for the first time. Then James invited me to Castle Rock. We journeyed up to Castle Rock on an overcast day in some beat up old car with a posse of twenty something route setters from the gym which included the infamous Chris Bloch. Within ten minutes of arriving I found myself on that side-pull/layback thing you first come up to at Parking Lot Rock. I pulled the opening moves then found myself terrified and locked up above a crash-pad made of duct- tape, cheap foam, and carpet. I ask,“ You got me.”
Bloch says, “of course”, but I look down and see him attempting to light a cigarette. I pulled through the fear and made it up. The fear had crippled my technique as a I beached whaled up a top out. At this point climbing started helping me in other parts of my life. If I could push through this with no spotter then I could do anything. James and Chris taught me that it is all about fun and having a good time with friends, but also that it is about nature. The end result didn’t really matter.
Then... I started High School. Two years prior I could only do one pull up, now I could do more then 20 in the Presidential fitness competition. During the first week of classes while at the gym one night, I overheard King Human and Anna Levine talking about King’s new bully student. When I introduced myself, it turned out that he taught at my school and invited me to come by his classroom. I did and he invited me to The Pinnacles that weekend. I showed up at the gym and caught a ride with Pete King and Pete Kushner. This would be one the most formative experiences of my life. Pete King had his eyes set on Ranger Bolts and on arrival went directly too it. With no warmup he setoff with a huge rack of quickdraws. I was amazed by this man in his late fifties going for it like that. He passed the dyno and fell pulling the lip. I couldn’t climb that so I went around the other side and did Teranean Tango, Cantaloupe Death, Hawaiian Noises, and then fell all over POD. Chris Bloch and Hans Florine were working Hot Lava Lucy in a competitive manner. Things were really happening that day, one of those special days you remember forever. Audra Allen fell in love with Chris Bloch and then King Human sent Foreplay. King was so stoked he took the whole group out to dinner. Pinnacles was awesome, I went to the gym and into the Bugaboo pro-shop and bought the purple Rubine guide. But I didn’t have anyone my age to climb with and I couldn’t drive.
I was competing in the local competition circuit at this point, and was at a JCCA competition at Planet Granite. Somehow Chris Sharma’s mom was sick of watching the comp and asked my mom to take him home with us. I kind of knew Chris from The Edge but had never hung out. Mom and I waited around while Sharma made the finals without me, and proceeded to campus and skip holds out what the route setters must have thought was a desperate route. Within a week I was in a car with Sharma and the then 16 year old Justin Vitcov that was known as “Billy The Kid”. Thus I begun my sport climbing crash course. The techniques these quys taught me were not very safe but we had a blast messing around in nature. With Justin I learned a bunch. We aided Ranger Bolts, climbed in The High Peaks, and I really discovered what outside climbing could offer.
We all watched in awe over the next few years as Sharma made his way through the grades: Hot Lava Lucy, Ranger Bolts, Lardbutt, Ubermench, National Champion, World Champion, and then “Climbing is now spelled Sharma”. One particular event really sticks out in my mind as a turning point for me because of Sharma. Chris was attempting Ubermensch and Justin was belaying. Chris neared the 4th bolt, set a marginal heal hook, threw the draw on, quickly pulled up to clip, and his heal popped... within a millisecond he plunged backward. Justin pulled up ton of rope with a Gri-Gri in that half second before Chris’s brain would have been splattered all over the slab that makes up the trail around the Monolith. His head stopped less then six inches from that rock. This is when I learned how to belay, even if I thought I did before. I had this incident in mind when I belayed Sharma on his successful first ascent of Pinnacles only 5.14. You can fuck around but in the end you have to be serious. Climbing is no joke.
I was lucky enough to travel with Sharma many times in those following years. climbing began to take us to other places. We went to Yosemite with his dad Bob, and met up with Ron Kauk who showed us around Camp Four. We climbed Nutcracker with a set of nuts and 3 or 4 cams, actually Chris soloed it and then used the gear to set anchors to bring me up. That experience in Yosemite planted a desire to climb bigger things. We stood beneath El Cap in awe. I looked up The Nose and knew I wanted to climb it, but at that point I couldn’t conceive of how I would do it or if I ever would. It seemed impossible.
Then one day during a kids comp I met a fresh face who was super- enthusiastic about a problem I just sent. John Seitz had just moved from Wisconssin with a ball of energy in a 5’4” frame. He asked if knew how to lead trad, I lied and said,”Yes”. By the end of the week we were in The Valley racking up below Royal Arches as a party of three with the much younger Sam Zelver. We had a blast... and our first epic. I taught myself trad on the way up. We ran out of water at the penji and then arrived at the raps at dark only to discover we had only 2 torches between the three of us. Something told me to take the lead on the raps, maybe just to make sure I had a headlamp, or maybe because something told me I was meant to lead. We rapped 6 hours through the night, but I got us down avoiding the mistakes that other friends had made. We retuned to the car at 3 AM to find it torn apart by a bear. The ice chest we had left in the back seat was gone along with a window and a good part of the front seat. I crawled my way into The Ahwanhee to drink out of the bathroom faucet. I was parched for days, but i was more happy then ever before. I knew that eventually Yosemite would bring me back.
Around that time I was invited by Chris to climb at the Vrigin River Gorge, where he had a project deemed “Necessary Evil”. Jim Thornburg picked us up at the Las Vegas airport and we drove out to the VRG. Chris went straight to the proj and I began my belay duties. There wasn’t much to climb there under 5.12. Boone Speed took me up some of the easier climbs, but something was missing for me. I could climb rocks but I was terrified on lead, when a bolt was at my waist all I could think about was falling. I was scared to even try routes our of fear of the unknown. I was good inside, but real rock baffled me. I may have thought I was climber at this point but in retrospect I had barely scuffed the surface of what was possible in climbing. I was still just a kid without the ability to put it all in perspective. There was a huge duality in my life of school and climbing, which didn’t really exist in the same realm at all. When high school finished that world disappeared and I was free to become a climber. Climbing had taken me places but maybe not the right places or places that I was ready for.
To be continued...
Let me know if you want more.
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Adam great read thanks. Funny I have so many good memories of my days at PAC Edge. Still remember many of those same folks you mentioned above. Good stuff, funny how our lives are formed by what (at the time) seem like small decisions. Later they turn out to be anything but....
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Keep it coming.
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I want more! Atomizer, I knew you were young, but now knowing the exact age, dam you are really young! Any youngster who is willing to do reflection has, IMHO, a mature mind. Good for you!
I can't wait to read how you got over the fear of leading outside, or anything else you type up.
More stories, people? This thread is great!
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Reflection is a funny process. It seems like I look back quite often and exclaim how young and dumb I was just a year or only two months ago. It's amazing how much you can grow in the space of only a few months. What was I thinking?
There is more to come, hopefully with some pictures this time.
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There is more to come, hopefully with some pictures this time.
I'll be waiting patiently...
Great stuff guys and gals! Indeed, keep it coming.
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Reflection is a funny process. It seems like I look back quite often and exclaim how young and dumb I was just a year or only two months ago. It's amazing how much you can grow in the space of only a few months. What was I thinking?
There is more to come, hopefully with some pictures this time.
I know what you mean. An example for me was wyde stuff. It was a couple decades of climbing where I would only touch wide stuff occasionally and typically only when necessary. Watching the wyde crew and even just well rounded Yosemite climbers get up wyde cracks without even worrying about too much gear caused something in my head to click that wyde could be fun. That reflection got me generally back into a mind set of having fun again. Oh we always did, but there was something slightly more profound about it each year as time went by. The existential angst yielding to absurdity, and absurdity to laughter and joy.
So I still suck at wyde, and keep forgetting to climb in cotton and not synthetics when climbing wyde, but maybe someday I'll be good at it. So that reflection and renewal has me in that beginner's mind state again even after many years of climbing. Zen being in the process, much like you mention Chris B talking about above. Out with freinds having a blast enjoying the outdoors.
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For many years I climbed off size in a long sleeved grey medium weight Pataguchie capaline top. The left side of which was fairly shreaded. At a later stage I went to cotton T's, not sure why. But then I am still trying to get beyond the beginner stage of this art.
forgetting to climb in cotton and not synthetics when climbing wyde, but maybe someday I'll be good at it.
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All this wyde talk is making me miss Yosemite again. Okay, okay, I know Pinnacles got wyde, but nothing is quite like thrashing for like an eternity on (or was it "in"?) Ahab and seemingly going nowhere.
Wait a minute, is it spelled "wide"? Munge, see what you did? >:(
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The use of the climbing community vernacular of "wyde" is something of nod to Brutus of Wyde.