TR: Josh Halloween '98
grant
Friday- Cold and windy, mostly cloudy with frequent thunder. Found a site
in HVC (old day-use area) after searching the inner loop and outer rim. One
site was "reserved" by someone who'd put a blue tarp over a picnic table,
probably last Sunday, but left nothing else. I was sorely tempted to lay
claim to it and deal with the confrontation since that type of behavior is
one of my pet peeves. These are the same people that take 2 spaces in a
crowded parking lot just so they don't get hangar rash. Supreme assholes.
Carved my pumpkins and finished reading "The White Spider" by a nice
campfire whilst enjoying a Negra Modelo and tequila lime chicken.
Woke up after a windy night to a lovely clear day. As soon as the chill
wore off, people swarmed out to the rocks and the click of 'biners and calls
of "climbing!" could be heard. My friends showed up around 9 and we headed
out to find "Hands Off". We walked right past it and out to the outback
before we finally agreed that we'd missed it. We arrived just as another
party was gearing up for it. We'd have had it if we found it the first go
round... They recommended Boussenier, a nice short left leaning hand crack
on the Blob, so we moved on to that. Spencer called the lead and headed up
it, using only 2 pro placements. I gave him a 60% solo rating. John and I
followed, then moved on to Toe Jam, which John led.
John had been out of the climbing scene for some time, having his job,
marriage, and other commitments eating up time. He was feeling a little
shaky after Boussenier, but gained back his lead head after Toe Jam.
We then headed over to Loose Lady for a bit more challenge. A large party
was there finishing up the route, toproping through the rap anchors (boo!).
One of the party, Joel, told a rambling but engrossing story about a surfer
seeking enlightenment and the meaning of life with a surprise ending.
Finally the last climber was down and Spencer shot up the route in absolute
heaven. Every move was another joyful exclamation. "So far this deserves
every star!" "The pro is excellent" "I don't think it is a .9, it seems
too easy!" I found it to be more daunting than Solid Gold due to the many
sloping holds at the top of the route.
It was late when we finally got off the rock, but briefly considered trying
for Walk on the Wild Side. Better judgement prevailed and John seemed amped
to try Leapin Leanna, so we wound our way over there. Another party was on
it, so we opted for a deceptive little .8 on the right which turned out to
be more off-width than any of us wanted. Finally grunting up it, I was
treated to a lovely desert sunset scene with a warm breeze and reddish sky.
After a couple of Negra Modelos, some single malt scotch, peanuts, and
figs, we put on our costumes and headed over to the much touted r.c.
Halloween party at site #13, Indian Cove (ooooo!). Pumpkins were lit all
over the place in the various camps as we approached and people were milling
about, reveling in excess beer and chocolate. Half expecting to get
cold-cocked by someone I'd flamed, I approached with my mask on and a
careful eye for anyone with a grudge.
The path to the campfire was lined by cool little white bags cut to look
like ghosts with candles inside. A couple of pumpkins were perched on the
rocks, casting a spooky glow. A hearty welcome was given to us, beers were
offered, and we made our introductions. No one jumped up to pummel me, so I
was able to sit back and enjoy the goings on.
We'd arrived just after a raiding party had come and taken most of the
trick or treat candy, so the plan was to go out on a raid ourselves and
restock our chocolate supplies. We hit 3 camps with good results. The
second camp informed us that group site one was a large camp of Koreans who
were giving out beer! Woo-Hoo! We made a beeline for them and were not
disappointed. It was apparent they weren't ready for this new American
custom, but didn't want to disappoint.
On the way back we hit the other 2 camps again and generally caused a
ruckus all around. We settled in by our fire for some jokes, tall tales,
and light insult trading. Jean came up with the idea of the "flaming
talking stick" which allowed only the person holding it to speak. That
decorum broke down as soon as the first blonde joke was told (my friend, a
blonde, is definitely anti-blonde discrimination).
The night wore on into the wee hours with much merriment, half-popped
popcorn, and copious ethanol consumption. Some of the older members were
seen leaning back against the rocks, scanning the heavens with their eyes
shut and strange vocalizations emanating from their mouths.
The next morning was once again gorgeous albeit cold (42 F), but a little
coffee next to the fire and a Culpepper's Famous Fried Bagel was just the
thing. Steph wanted to sleep in and I wanted to laze around, so John and
Spencer headed off for "Walk". Steph finally got going and we jumped on
"Overhang Bypass". If you've never done it, by all means do so. An
excellent 1.5 pitch route on Intersection rock with excellent pro and a
spectacular exposed hand traverse to a fun mantle. It's a great tourist
attractor and sure to get in some Midwesterner's travel log about how they
watched these "crazy climbers! My palms were sweating just watching them!".
Afterwards we hit Rock Hudson for Loony tunes and Nereltne. We arrived and
watched this couple trying Hot Rocks. The woman kept popping off at the
crux and finally another party arrived and started giving beta. It was then
that the lady said, "Honey, are you SURE this is a .9?!" "That's what the
guidebook says..." Of course they had misread the book and she was much
relieved and amused to find out it was an .11c.
I'd forgotten what a grunt Loony Tunes was and apologized profusely to
Steph as she cursed me, my mother, and God, giving her arms and legs one of
those deep cleansing spa scrubs they pay so much for. We then jumped on
Nereltne, an unremarkable, very short hand/lieback crack to the left of L.T.
Unfortunately for me, I used my one piece of medium gear in the chimney
approach to the crack and ended up soloing it . Oh well, better planning
next time...
That was enough for the day, so we headed home having enjoyed one of the
nicest weekends I could remember.