Smith Rocks: Hooking and Hanging
Bill Wright
Smith Rocks: Hooking and Hanging
Nov. 23, 1991
Stevie Ray and I had returned to Smith Rocks this weekend to try the
West Face of Monkey Face (5.7, A3.) This was a route recommended
by a rec.climbing local. We assumed the first pitch would be the crux
because it was the A3 pitch and the remaining pitches were bolt ladders
and moderate free climbing. It took me a little over an hour to lead the
140 foot pitch and Steve cleaned the pitch using his new Petzel ascenders
in record time. What a vast improvement for only his second time!
The right gear sure helps and this was an easier jumar, but,
nevertheless, he did a great, fast job.
The next pitch is a continuously overhanging headwall with ancient
bolts. The first couple of bolts are missing, but I was able to bypass this
problem by aiding a free route (with very closely spaced bolts) just left
of our route and then tension traversing over to the West Face route. I
then proceeded up the bolt ladder. The bolts were about three or four
feet apart which was pretty close to my maximum reach due to the angle
of the wall.
I was getting pretty casual about the climbing and was leaning back in
my aiders scoping out the route when I noticed a shifting. I looked
down at the bolt I was clipped to and saw it half out of its hole. Shit,
these bolts are old. I quickly moved off it and upwards. A few bolts later
I noticed a curious piece of protection: a piton driven straight into the
rock via a drilled hole. There was a tiny wire wrapped around the base
of the piton but I didn't give it much thought and clipped the eye of the
piton and stood up. Immediately the piton bent severely downward and
started to pull. Grit poured out of the hole around the piton and I
quickly backed down to the previous bolt, shaking. I now realized why
the tiny cable was there -- it was a tie-off for the piton. I clipped into the
cable and gingerly stepped up and moved quickly on to the next bolt.
About 60 feet up I came upon a blank spot in the wall where a bolt was
missing. It was seven or eight feet to the next bolt and clearly
impossible to reach without an intermediate piece. A cheater stick
would have come in handy here, but I didn't think to bring one. I did
have a hook along with me though...
I have never done a hook move. I envisioned my first hook move to
be on a smooth slab where the climbing was on solid granite
microedges too tough for me to free climb. I didn't envision it to be on
an overhanging, crumbly wall. I pondered the use of a hook. I didn't
think I wanted to do it, even if I could find a placement for it. The bolt I
was on was ancient and I didn't feel confident falling on it, but the next
bolt down was a new Metolius so I started looking for a hook
placement. I only had one hook so I could only do one hook move and
it therefore had to be about four feet above this last bolt. To place
something this high I had to stand high in my aiders and hang on with
one hand to keep me from falling over backwards while I reached high
with my left hand to place the hook. I pushed the hook into a couple of
time holes, but each time a slight tug pulled it loose. I had attached the
hook to my aider with a carabiner and then attached the aider to myself
with some extra sling -- I didn't want to lose everything if it pulled on
me.
Finally I found a bigger hole and got the hook to stay. It survived a few
good tugs and looked like it would hold. I yelled down to Steve, "The
good news is I found a hook placement. The bad news is I found a
hook placement." Bad news because now I would either have to stand
on it or wimp out -- both prospects uninviting.
The aider hung completely free of the wall suspended only by the
hook. I grabbed hold of a couple of the steps and slowly, carefully
transferred my weight onto the hook. It held! I was swinging in space
on the hook. Steve, watching intently, calls up, "Alright!" I move up the
aiders carefully until my head is now level with the hook. I will have to
move up until the hook is level with my waist to reach the next bolt and
am worried about pulling the hook outwards. I am scrutinizing the hook
placement and notice a crack in the rock around the nubbin I am
hooked on. "It's cracking!" I yell down to Steve in total fear. Then,
after realizing I am still here, "Maybe it was already cracked." I look
back at the hook again and...CRACK! Suddenly I am free falling as the
nubbin I am hooked on disintegrates. The fall is caught six or seven feet
lower on the next bolt.
Well, that was my hook move and now I felt I could retreat without too
much shame. I down-aided to the new Metolius bolt and then Steve
lowered me off it while I backcleaned the route. I clipped myself into
the lead rope so that I could haul myself back into the rock to unclip the
quickdraws. By the time I reached Steve, I was hanging about 15 feet
out in space and had to be hauled into the belay. I was praying that the
Metolius bolt was good because if it pulled I was going for a 120+ foot
fall and I was only 140 feet off the ground. Of course it didn't pull and
we retreated to the ground. I will return, but with a long cheater stick
next time.
Down early from our climb we decided to try Monkey Farce (5.10b). I
was interested in this climb because of what Stevie Ray had told me. He
had attempted this route once before with his regular partner, Rich.
Rich was leading the thin slanting crack and got tired. He decided to
rest on his protection and it pulled. Then the next piece pulled and he
hit the ground from 30 feet up. This got him evacuated to the hospital
for broken ribs. Rich had claimed that because the crack slanted it was
difficult to place protection. I was eager to give the crack a try.
From the ground, as usual, the climb doesn't look as hard or steep as it
actually is. I had considerable trouble right from the start. I clipped the
only bolt about ten feet up and then started up the crack, protecting the
hell out of it. I think I got in four or five bomber pieces in the next
fifteen feet. This is not my normal mode of operation, but I was fearful
of bad pro because of Rich's experience. All this pro-ing got me really
pumped out and I fell at the crux -- nothing pulled. I placed another
piece and then pulled over the crux onto the steep slab above. We had
thought there was a belay just above, but that turned out to be wrong. I
ended up leading to the top of the first pitch of the West Face variation
with only two more pieces of protection and massive rope drag. Once
again, as was becoming our custom, we hiked out in the dark.
--
Bill Wright / bill_...@mentorg.com
"You have to ask yourself just how much more black can it be. And
the answer is: none. None more black."
-- Nigel from Spinal Tap