Had a blast on Machete yesterday. While things didn’t quite go according to plan, we made the best of it and succeeded in a classic Machete Adventure.
Here is the quick, slapped together trip report:
The Plan: Los Banditos 5.9 A1 or 5.10 A1 (depending on who you talk to).
I’ve long been waiting to do the route, especially after reading the excellent trip report of the second ascent by j-tree (who I think is cobbledik on mud’n’crud?).
So I finally have a day off, and high temps in the low 80’s means you can run up Machete’s west face in the early morn’ and be in comfortable shade until around 11:30, and then have another hour or so before the stone begins to really bake.
The Strategy: leave Monterey at 6:00AM, hope the gate opens early, and squeeze every minute of the morning’s cooler temps.
Since the last pitch enters “condors-only” territory, we planned to move onto the “Old Original Rappel Bypass” route instead of doing the last pitch. It was the bolt ladder and 5.9(+?) free pitch that I was after anyway.
I just like being high up on Machete Ridge.
Problem #1: Getting out of bed.
I work six to seven days a week, with one day off. Most days, I’m up at 4:30AM for fishing trips. Once, I was a whale watcher, and now I am a fisherman. Twelve to Fifteen hours on the water with tourists, managing tangles, backlashes, stabbing yourself with hooks and fish spines, driving the boat, and pulling your hair out ‘cuz the fish won’t bite, and the central valley redneck in all camo who’s been drinking since 7am keeps throwing his small fish into the ocean, which is illegal because it’s waste and- if caught- goes on MY criminal record…
...it takes it out of you.
So when 5:50 rolls around, Megan and I are just barely arising from the haze of sweet, sweet sleep. By 6:15 we are just about ready to hop in the car, and Megan has to go “manage a feminine issue” that requires a bathroom. Just as she moves to leave the bedroom, we hear the bathroom shower activate, and an unidentified roommate promptly enters by the sound of shifting curtains.
Fuck. I look at my watch. “Can’t you use a gas station bathroom?” After five minutes about arguing sanitation issues and the inevitable march of the Sun, she concedes the Marina Mini Mart has a nice, clean bathroom.
Car doors slam. Tires squeal.
We pull up to the Mini Mart, and Megan runs in.
She runs right back out.
“It’s out of order!”
“Shit! Get in!”
Car doors slam. Tires squeal.
Back to the house.
By now, the bathroom is clear. Megan runs in, and a minute later, runs back out.
“Hit it!”
Tires squeal.
By now, it’s about 6:40AM. Normally, The West Side parking lot is an hour and fifteen minutes from my house.
We hit the gate at 7:28AM and its open. I wonder exactly how early one can get in…
In the end, we leave the car at exactly 8:00AM.
Problem #2: The gear.
I own one pair of pocket aiders, and one fifi hook. Megan does not own any aid gear, and her aid experience is still very minimal.
She’s practiced bolt laddering once in a gym, and a few months ago I took her up Rock Around The Clock, which didn’t go very well. But we did send.
Last time, I gave her the aid gear.
I make “fake aiders” by girth hitching three runners together and clipping the “chain” to the top biner on a quick draw. Then I introduce a double-length sling on the biner as well, which gives my feet options for when my weight inevitable squeezes the chain together when I step on it. The dogbone of the quickdraws makes a nice handle and the lower biner works as a fifi.
This technique has done me very well on Machete.
This time, I decide (for some reason) to mix it up. Each of us will get one pocket aider, and one fake-aider.
Okay okay let’s go.
We hike up to the base of Dos Equis and I get a bright idea: instead of hiking up and around to the base of The West Face’s bolt ladder, I’ll lead Dos Equis and scramble to the bolt ladder.
“You sure you can get from the Anchor to the bolt ladder?”
“Yeah, it looks easy from here.”
I find myself actually a little nervous on the runouts. I was surprised. I love this route! Why am I shaky?
Oh yeah, I don’t have health insurance and I promised myself I wouldn’t do this shit until I got it back.
Oh well, before long Megan is standing next to me at the anchor. I clip a quickdraw to one of the bolts, and “lead on.”
Turns out: yes, you can get from the top of Dos Equis to the bolt ladder for The West Face.
Call it “loose fourth class”
Rejoined at the base of the bolt ladder, I notice something: we forgot the fifi hook. I shrug it off. “Quickdraws will work just fine”
The West Face’s bolt ladder goes by smooth, per usual. Megan comments how much easier it was than last time.
And here we are, at the base of the main attraction, Lost Banditos.
I’m stoked. The bolt ladder looks cool, and the 5.9 bulging free move looks exciting. I can make out some of the water chute above.
I admire the cliff like an aficionado admires a work of art, but only for a moment. The temperatures have risen noticeably since starting the climb.
Racked up, off I go.
Two bolts up, something goes wrong; It’s subtle. For some reason, the bolt ladder becomes challenging. It’s quite overhanging, but it also traverses left significantly.
For one reason or another, I’m having a hard time getting up it.
“I wish I had real aiders”
“An adjustable fifi would make this so easy.”
“Shit, I don’t know if you [Megan] will be able to do this.”
Megan watches with a strong look of concern. “That looks fucking hard.”
While I’m hanging on bolt four or five, we start discussing.
I know I can get up the ladder eventually, but Megan will almost definitely not.
We don’t have ascenders, but she has a grigri and a prusik loop. If I can get to the anchor, I can pull the rope up and throw it so it hangs straight down. Whatever gear she can’t swing over to clean: I’ll come back for it later.
“Where’s the middle marker?”
“It’s right here”
“Okay, I’m going to keep going. Just keep an eye on the middle marker. I want to see how I feel about the next few moves.”
Next thing you know, I’m at the free move.
Now, I’d like to take this time to quote j-tree’s excellent trip report of the second ascent of Los Banditos (by far, my favorite trip report ever):
“The highlight of the pitch comes at the final bolt. “Intimidating free moves” in the description… ...In front of me was a collection of protruding rocks sticking suspiciously out of the wall, I pulled each of them in different directions to see which ones were suspect and which were timebombs like their brothers to the left right above and below of the bolt ladder below. I reminded myself of Erik Bratton on the MudnCrud forums saying, “All holds are bomber.”
End Quote.
“All holds are bomber.”
Turns out, I actually *said* that phrase aloud, about three or four times while moving through that section. I didn’t even realize it; Megan told me later.
So here I am, un-fifi’d and moving on. I Decide to leave my aider for Megan to clean.
I’m shaking. My diaphram quivers as my brain screams to my feet to get moving. My feet cling to their holds like a crying toddler clutching his teddy bear.
Again, I quote j-tee:
“In my head, “5.9” meant handholds that could support bad feet. What I found when I went up was great feet that would have to support flat and sloping handholds. Easy climbing but my body was still in the fog of an aid ladder and the fear of Pinnacles "rock".
...End Quote.
I think of Lava Falls: large and prominent holds on steep terrain. I was not scared when I did Lava Falls. I’m terrified right now.
“All holds are bomber.”
It’s an amazing thing: controlling your breathing.
My feet are spread wide, on good features. My hands find small, but positive holds. I force my lungs into a strong exhalation, and for a brief moment, all fear and quake subsides. My left hand seizes its position, and my arm locks to create a pivot point for my body to swing over right. My right hand finds another good hold. I’m no longer shaking. I haven’t backed off yet, and pride helps keep the fear at bay. I move a few more times. The next bolt is just out of reach. The anchor is just to the right. One more move… my right hand bumps up to a good knob-
KaBOOM!
“Falling!”
J-tree was right. All crux free moves should be protected by more-than-vertical bolt ladders. I watch the last thirty feet of progress go whizzing by before coming to a nice stretchy stop.
So far, this is the biggest fall I’ve even taken. Endorphins are pumping through my brain. I’m stoked out of my gourd. God that was cool!
I look over at Megan, and she is crumpled against the wall. She smiling, but with that squinty-eyed expression that says “ouch.” Turns out, she barely moved when I fell; her body hit the wall and the wall and the friction just kinda halted everything.
“Does this mean we can bail now?” She asks.
“I kinda wanna try again.”
“Seriously?”
I hang there for a bit, and think it through. She can’t aid the ladder, and our improvised plan for ascending a fixed line might be a bit much for her experience level. She just caught my fall and it looks like it sucked a lot for her.
I’ll be back.
I jug up to the bolt to get my aider and quickdraw, swap out a bail biner, and throw a prusik on the belayer side of the rope and clip it to my belay loop. This allows me follow the traverse back to clean my gear, and also acts a safety in case the bolt above blows.
Soon, I’m back on the ledge. I look around at the shadow of Machete Ridge. There is a strong, cool breeze blowing. It’s a beautiful day. I don’t want to go home.
“How about we finish on Rock Around the Clock?”
We’ve both done it before, the bolt ladder is much more tame, and the weather is nice.
So we did!
I laugh at myself during the mandatory 5.9 free move at the end of the bolt ladder.
“Dejavu!”
---
We finished on the standard final pitch this time, as we did the 5.8 Direct Finish last time, and the sun was out in force.
From the top, we decided to continue on Old Original all the way past Middle Tower.
It didn't even get “really hot” until about 2pm. Mid 80’s.
I noticed The Balconies went into the shade around 2:30pm.
