TR: Virginia Rednecks in the Rockies
Mongo
I hope that you are really bored, 'cause this one is kinda long......
Here's a trip report from a long, but short, road trip -- from Virginia
to Colorado for a "long weekend of climbing".
I managed to scam a "buy one get one free" plane ticket so Norman and I
decided that a long weekend was in order. We decided that since it was
reasonably easy to get in and out of Denver, we should fire to Colorado.
We arrived in Boulder late on a Wednesday (yeah, a good long "weekend")
and crashed at a friend's house. Urban camping at it's finest. Thursday
morning we headed into Eldorado and were rewarded with a perfect day and
only one other party of climber scum in the canyon. We headed up the
talus to the "Yellow Spur", a route I had done about 13 years
previously. I scrambled up to the rope up spot and was extremely
disappointed to see a raptor closure notice. I figured that since I was
from out of town, I'd just ignore the notice and climb anyway. I wasn't
about to let any stupid birds get in my way! So I started up the route.
Just kidding. We actually decided to honor the closure and go elsewhere.
I was confused though because I thought that the "Yellow Spur" was open.
Oh well.
We moved over to the "Green Spur" and started up. This was going to be
interesting because we only had a topo for the Yellow Spur and no route
info for the "Green Spur" except what I dimly recalled from a glance in
the guidebook the week before. Norman drew the short straw and started
up. It turned out that I had actually "won" the draw because the first
pitch is short and easy and the belay is below the really good climbing.
The second pitch goes up a classic finger crack that gets progressively
harder as you go up. It ends with a crescendo up a thin stemming corner
and a short traverse to some face/crack climbing. I was pretty psyched
that I was able to cruise it with no hesitation. I settled in to the
belay (of course, I missed the cold shuts 15' away but that's what I got
for having no route info).
I thought there was a decent finish up somewhere to the left up on the
upper part of the "Green Slab", so we headed up a couple of short easy
pitches to try to find what looked like a 5.9 line. Somehow we lucked
out and found it. Norman lead up the "Green Slab" (actually a kinda
steep crack) in one long pitch. It was a good pitch with one loose
guillotine block partway up. We topped out and were rewarded with a good
view of the Plains and some snowy mountains. Not knowing the correct
descent, we just rapped down a gully that had rap stations on trees. We
lucked out again and landed 100' from our packs. Not too shabby for not
having a clue where we were.
We were supposed to meet a friend at 3:00 and pay her back for letting
us crash at her house by taking her up a route. Since we still had an
hour and a half we fired up the two pitches of "Touch and Go". Well, we
didn't exactly fire up the route since it started raining when I was
halfway up the first pitch. I decided to wait on a stance to see if the
rain would stop and was rewarded with sunshine after only 10 minutes of
waiting. Norman took the opportunity to flag down a Ranger and see if
the "Yellow Spur" was open or not. The Ranger confirmed that the raptor
closure was lifted but stated, "we haven't got around to taking the
signs down yet". Duh!
We finished "Touch and Go" and were only 7 minutes late meeting Andrea.
We swilled some water and walked over to the Wind Tower to do the "Wind
Ridge" a classic 3-pitch 5.6 up the edge of the Wind Tower. I lead the
first pitch and then it was Andrea's turn to follow. It was her first
real rock climb and she struggled at the start but then got going and
arrived at the belay with a huge smile. Norman led the next two pitches
as one and I soloed up next to Andrea giving her on-the-spot beta and
encouragement. When she got to the top she was really psyched. Her first
real route and she got to get up high off the ground.
On Friday, Norman and I headed back up to do the "Yellow Spur". This
time we ignored the redundant raptor closure sign and I started up the
first pitch. Thank God (and the Lowe brothers) for tri cams! There was
a decent tricam placement in a pin scar that protected the hard moves
off the ledge. It took me a few tries to figure out the moves to
actually get started - hmmmm, seems kinda hard for 10a........ I
finally thrashed up the pitch and we were cruising. The second pitch
goes up a clean, open 5.8 dihedral and is really good. Fixed pins were
available just when needed. Norman made short work of the pitch and I
got the next one, a 5.7/8 crack and jugfest that took me to a big ledge.
About this time we really started feeling the wind building and since we
were in the shade, life was less than warm. Norman headed up the fourth
pitch in an easy corner but was still impressed by the exposure of the
moves that led into the base of the corner. He seemed to be taking a
long time and I was wondering why such an easy pitch was taking him so
long. When the rope came tight, I started climbing, since by this time
the wind was so strong we couldn't hear a thing anyway. It turned out
that he had led the 5.4 corner plus most of the next 5.8 pitch. He said
that he thought the hand traverse was harder than 5.4. I guess so,
since it was 5.8! I was forced to do a short pitch so that we could
belay on the edge of the Tower One and be able to watch the leader on
the upper steep face pitch.
I went to the hideously exposed belay ledge 600 feet off the ground and
perched right on the prow of the tower. When I got to the belay, the
wind was so strong that I had to hang on TIGHT for fear of being knocked
off the ledge! The wind came in irregular waves; you would get blasted
from one direction, then the wind would stop for a few seconds and then
blast just as hard from the other direction. It was difficult just
sitting at the belay so I was wondering if we were going to be able to
climb the sixth pitch, a steep, marvelously exposed 5.9 face. Norman got
to the belay, and without a word, took the rack and headed up. When he
doesn't talk I know he's a little bit wigged out. I didn't blame him a
bit, and for once, I actually paid close attention when I was belaying.
He would climb a few moves, hang on tight while the wind blasted and
then move upward again in the short lulls between blasts. He cruised the
5.9 section and then opted for the runout 5.7 traverse over to the left.
Afterwards he said that the 5.7 section was especially hard because he
really would have taken a tumble if the wind knocked him off. It was an
impressive lead under the conditions.
I got to do the final arete pitch and had to pinch the edge hard to hang
on. He said that it looked really cool to see me silhouetted in the
sunlight in a cloud of chalk dust as my chalkbag was being blown all
around. When we got to the tiny summit we had to hunker down and hold on
tight in the wind. Even though we were still being blasted by the wind
we stayed on top for about 15 minutes and feasted in the view of the
snowy high country to the west and the Great Plains to the East (we
pretended that we couldn't see Denver in the distance).
After getting down, we ate and then went to do the "West Buttress" of
the Bastille, a 3 pitch 5.9. It was still extremely windy but at least
it was sunny. The "West Buttress" is a classic route. The first pitch
has some hard 5.9+++ face moves then rambles up a featured face. The
second 5.9 pitch goes up the left side of a huge block, first as a
lieback, then into a squeeze. The final pitch goes up over a roof (we
opted for the 5.8+ right side) then into a really cool face with huecos
and jugs. There were people all over the Bastille, in contrast to our
solitude of the previous routes, but the climbing overcame the crowd
scene. It still wasn't near as crowded as Seneca!!
We decided we had a good enough day so we drove through Boulder Canyon,
past Nederland and into Estes Park. We had a good view of the Diamond,
still plastered with snow, and looking like Winter. Plus, we saw a big
bobcat that we took as a good omen.
Saturday found us up on Lumpy Ridge and heading to do "Orange Julius" on
the Bookend. I was surprised that the 7500' elevation didn't affect us
too bad and we actually motored up the trail. I got the first lead, an
intimidating pitch with good slam potential into a corner if I decided
to fall at the crux. This pitch goes up a short flare into a corner
below a big roof. I went up the corner a ways, placed a high nut and
then down climbed to the base of the dihedral. Then I went up a thin
seam to a small stance. At this point, the protection in the corner was
about 10 feet to my right and at the same level as the stance (in other
words, if I came off now I would have a good swing into the corner; as I
got higher, the swing and slam potential just got more interesting). I
got psyched and committed to the crux, a series of knobs that lead
straight up about ten more feet to the roof. I happily put in a good
camalot and traversed over to the edge of the roof and did a series of
awkward lieback/jams around the left edge of the roof.
Norman got an awkward 5.8 pitch up a weird corner and then a runout, but
easier, face to a belay off of slings over a horn. It was my lucky day
as I got another 5.9 pitch, this time a runout traverse straight right
from the belay and around the edge of the buttress. I tied off a small
shrub just for fun about 20 feet from the belay. It probably wouldn't
have held but it looked kinda cool (and Norman got a good laugh). Then I
was rewarded for my runout with a perfect hand crack that took me to the
belay. Norman, the lucky dog, got to do the "amazing 70' hand traverse".
It is a slightly, down sloping 40' traverse across a vertical section of
wall with a sharp positive lip for the hands and smears for the feet.
The traverse was, as Norman accurately characterized it, "a pucker
factor of 0, with an aesthetic factor of 10". Too bad we didn't have a
camera, since it would have been the classic "hero" shot with Norman on
the steep cliff with snow covered peaks in the background. Oh well, an
excuse to come back.
I got the final real pitch, a flared, hard to protect, thin 5.8 crack
that starts right above the exposed belay on the prow of the buttress. I
got pretty scared near the top of the crack when I put in a tiny wired
stopper and could only get it in halfway and didn't have the strength to
hang on and try to reset it. There wasn't any more opportunities for
gear in the next 15' so I just had to suck it up and go off the half-in
stopper. I got to the top of the crack and was just 6" from a good
positive hold when a cam on the rack decided to get stuck upside down
and stop me from moving to the jug. Somehow I kept my act together and
freed the cam and made it to a small ledge where I could catch my breath
and get in a solid nut. Then all I had to do was struggle into the long
chimney (security at last) and grunt my way to the top.
We paused on the patio-sized ledge in the sunshine and watched the world
for a while. We had magnificent views out over beautiful alpine scenery
and a good place to enjoy life. Then we tried to figure out ways to not
have to leave Estes Park. "Ummm, maybe we could stay another week and
call my boss and say that I forgot to come back to work"...... "Uhhh,
maybe we could sell the rental car and sleep in that tepee down
there"..... "Urrr, let's get a job at the MacGregor ranch, working 4
hours a week for room and board". Shit, it was clouding up and starting
to look like it was going to rain so it was back to reality, such as it
was. We did the 4th class to the top and cruised down the backside to
our packs.
When we got to the base we ate and decided that we needed just a little
bit more rock so we headed over to do the first 2 pitches of "Melvin's
Wheel". We figured that we could rap quickly if the weather did in fact
move in. Norman had the first pitch and ended up on another nice, flat
ledge. We collected our booty, a nut tool and a biner, and I started up
the second pitch, a classic, flared finger crack splitting the middle of
a face. As I climbed I realized the Ridge was quiet. All the other
climbers had left in the face of the threat of rain and it was as if we
had the ridge to ourselves. It was a magical moment.
We rapped off without incident and decided we were satisfied. It was
time for Stout. It turned out to be a near-perfect weekend and it didn't
even matter that I got home at 1:20 am on Monday, seven hours before I
had to be at work.
Mongo