Rock!

I don't have very many exciting pictures. This one here -- Lambert Lembert Dome. It has some pretty fun climbs. I lead the three pitch 5.6 Northwest Book in two pitches. Of course, that isn't a big deal at all. I got lapped by free soloers who run up that climb just for the exercise of it. Seriously, I met a guy named Chris while I was finishing the last pitch who was doing just this. I asked what the top was like. His response was to look for the block that will take any piece of gear you have left. I found the block, built my anchor, and brought up my cousin (who is also very capable of free soloing this climb -- he climbed this in his tennies) and by the time we were at the top, Chris was finishing his second lap.

It wasn't a hard climb by any stretch and very fun. I highly recommend it for a warm up to getting your lead head on. There is only one slick spot but the protection is fantastic. I'd even say skip the first bolt. It doesn't really do much for you anyway, though great for that secure feeling you might need.

I actually spent more time bouldering than I did climbing the faces. My first two days were bouldering at the Kitty and Puppy boulders. My two cents -- the Kitty boulders are way better. That isn't to say you shouldn't spend time on the Puppy boulders too. I just like the type of climbing that has clean ground to fall on. I also spent a day climbing at the Knobs. These boulders are awesome. The granite is laced with feldspar cubes that you can pinch and stand on... I even did my first "highball." Okay, it was not really a highball. It was just higher than I like to go. I'm a bit of a chicken when it comes to bouldering. Bad knees, bad ankles... I'm sure I can make up some more excuses. I'm a sissy... I can live with it.

My cousin and I wanted to do a bit of climbing together, but sometimes things don't work out the way you hope. Kevin was out climbing the Hulk when I arrived, and as you might expect was a bit tired when he returned. We did a bit of bouldering at the Knobs and then he got called out on a SAR. I told him that if he didn't return the next day I would assume the call was a big deal and I was going to head out.

The next morning I woke up and started to read, eat break fast and finally I packed up for another day of bouldering when I was invited to do some cragging with some of the other SAR team. We ended up at the East Cottage Dome. Here were mostly 10c and harder climbs. I have discovered that I like to fall up climbs. The 10d climbs I definitely still have to work out sections on. I warmed up on a climb called Knobnoxious (5.10d) and the pump in my arms was especially difficult to work through, but I did make it to the top. That day was followed by a jump into the river and cleaning up of camp.

I made the decision to hang out through dinner with the crew from the SAR and to my luck Kevin showed up. We made plans to climb the Regular Route on the Fairview Dome. We woke casually, and watched as the thunder clouds build. We decided to give our climb a try and secretly hoped that other climbers would be chased off by the thunder and that we wouldn't be chased off.

Kevin was super cool, as expected. We got to the climb and I was offered the lead. I have led 5.9 on traditional gear before, but I had yet to do it clean without bailing off and retrying or sagging the rope. I started up the climb and Kevin's words sat on the tip of my thoughts -- Look for good placements before and after a crux and for confidence double up a placement before a crux.

His advice was perfect as I came to the first crux with bad hands and slick feet. The rock in Tuolumne is a mixture of granite crystals and polished rock. I pushed through and was in full sweat. I was thankful for those thunder clouds building around us.

Then I hear this whirwhirwhir like a humming bird passing past your year. "ROCK!" I heard the call after the rock just went past my ear. Never even saw it. I swore about how late the call was made. My head was in climbing though and I would find out once Kevin reached me that no one called rock from above but rather he had called it once he saw it as passed my head. I dropped a piece to protect me and continued up as the rain started a sprinkle on me. The upper crack was already soggy. I dove my fingers back into the crack and excepted it would be mucky.

When I got to the top Thunder sounded to welcome me to my rest place. I had some nuts and three cams left. Only one piece would fit in the rock, so I made a two point belay with my one cam and the belay station on the tree in the rock. Kevin started up the rock.

Kevin moves fast over a 5.9, again climbing in his tennies. In my hurry to get Kevin up though, I failed to backup my belay. I brought him up on a single point of protection, and it wasn't even connected to me. I felt a bit stupid. I felt really stupid. Rock climbing is dangerous and even with thunder and lightening you have to keep your head and double check everything. Once again I failed to be safe. On the bright side I was super confident that the one point I had for Kevin was super safe and I even repelled off that one point myself (which I will tell you about shortly.) Though here is another thought. When you are learning to use a new tool (I was using an auto-locking belay device I'd never used before) you should practice with it on the ground first. Just my $0.02.

So Kevin got to me, and the thunder and lightening was coming on. I told Kevin that if we are going up then I wanted him to lead since he could move faster than me and the rain was my biggest concern on lead. He agreed and started up the second pitch. A loud crack stopped him, and he put a piece of gear to rest on for a moment. We had that discussion -- do we go up, or down? He was confident that we could go up but was worried about getting really wet and miserable. I made the call to go down -- I had already accomplished the clean 5.9 trad lead! I was stoked! The rest of the climb was easier stuff. Down would be okay by me -- and safer.

We setup the repel and I went first (yep that same single point protection I brough Kevin up on.) I didn't get five meters before the hail and rain started on me. My belay and biner were burning hot when I repelled off the end of the rope (as planned) on a nice slab of rock. Kevin followed and I moved off the rock and put on my hiking shoes. Kev did the clean up -- he really is fast at this stuff and does it with all the safety steps required to keep safe.

We ran down the hill and not 30 minutes later the sun was out on our climb and we were laughing that we knew that would be the end result. We ran over to another dome and did a fun 10a to end the day. Not enough climbing for Kevin or me, but the rock isn't going anywhere... well a few chunks are coming down on occasion for sure, but I'll have time to go back and repeat my climbs and pick up some new ones.

I think I need to find another week down here in the Tahoe/Yosemite area. Too much to do, and my lead head is coming along nicely.

The Barefoot Rappel

Rappelling barefoot is an odd sensation. It is very different than climbing barefooted — on rappel your feet are not keeping you in touch with life. You are on your decent and returning back to the world. The high is over, the emotions have calmed and you are probably at your most vulnerable. Your feet can gently wander over the rock touching the different textures, sharp edges, smooth slopers, but really your gear is what you depend on for the descent.

Coming down from "Central Pillar of Frenzy" I slipped off my shoes. I have nago's which turn my feet red. At the top of the climb, as I began my descent, I noticed the color rubbed off my feet and onto the rock. My feet soaked in the temperature of the rock. The morning sun had warmed it but the shade allowed it to cool. I slid my feet over the rock avoiding anything that might cut or hurt. The color rubbed off mostly at the top anchors as I began my rappel. It blended with the rock, but looked somewhat like a tragic accident.

At the second station there was no ledge. A full on hanging rappel. I went first off this station. My feet, without the sticky rubber or ledge to find a perch slipped over the smooth rock. It was difficult to get myself up high enough to ensure my rappel was setup correctly. It was a visual review. Biner through the belay loop. Both ropes correctly through the ATC. Everything locked down. For a backup, I put a quick sling with a locker onto the anchor by the rappel ring. I unhooked everything and made the 140 foot rappel. I had to stop over the edge to remove one line from a tree. The line went to the ground and I followed it down.

My feet landed in stone debris that immediately cut at my feet. I held the ropes as Kevin came down even though he didn't need my support. I wrapped my feet in socks and shoes and began the clean up of gear for our descent back to the car before I headed on my long drive home.

Yosemite is an amazing place. I entered from the East entrance Monday morning. The sky in the meadow was so blue. The air was clean, clear and domes of rock screamed to be climbed. I pulled into a lot and stepped out into the cool morning. I wasn't prepared for the temperature. The signs warning of bears concerned me more though. When I entered there was no ranger to give me the run down, so I walked over to the only other person in the lot. An older man, who looked like he spent most of his days in the park, gave me the list -- no scented items that might attract the bears, no sun screen, shampoo, toothpaste, wet wipes -- of what to remove and put in the bear box. He also gave me the location of the board for finding a partner for the day.

Finding a partner seemed to be elusive, and I decided to head down to the Valley and get a camp site. Camp 4 is an interesting place. You stand in line with your identification, lots of foreigners, and a Ranger who speaks loudly at people who barely understand him. Each person gets the run down -- everything with a scent goes in the bear box. I started to go through my car and found old bbq sauce, some shampoo, more sun screen. It is amazing what you can find in your glove compartment. I didn't mean to bring this all with me either. Oh, and don't forget to take your garbage bag with you.

I picked a site down by the YoSaR (Yosemite Search and Rescue) tents. I knew Kevin and his buddy Gabe were working on the Regular route of Half Dome and would be back at the site in the next day or two. I introduced myself to my camp mates Dom and Bill who where from England, and had finished a trip up El Cap. I wandered down the path to the village and checked things out. On the way back I bouldered and traversed about the rock.

There is an immaturity about this life. Yet at the same time there is a great deal to learn from the world that isn't capitalism, and politics, that isn't selfishness. It leaves you open to the experiences of life, vulnerable (I guess I'll use that word again.) This was my first trip by myself. For being all alone, I was surrounded by people. I made a choice to engage my world and meet the people around me. Heading back into camp I made friends with Libby, a 23 year old red head, who was at the cross roads -- to start a career or to be a dirt bagger. We talked about her adventures to prepare for Big Wall climbing and the decision of starting her career right out of college or to take time to live life. Enni and Pauli showed up a bit later in the evening. The young kids from Finland who were going to aid up Salathe sat and ate dinner with Dom, Bill and myself. My world was filled with new people and stories to share. I wish I could share them all, but they are not my stories to tell.

Tuesday morning a shaggy face popped over my cook stove. Kevin was down for a rest day, and wanted to take me out for some climbing. We ran up "The Nut Cracker" a fantastic 5.8 climb that has a sketchy mantle at the last pitch. The views were amazing for sure. I hope the Japanese guys who took our picture will email me a copy. We finished early and instead of running up more climbs we socialized for a bit. Kevin would be heading back to the dome to prepare for his attempt the next day.

Wednesday I missed a climbing connection. Such is life — it sucked. so I made my way down to the El Cap meadow. There were tons of people staring up at the climbers on the wall. I was quickly identified as one of those crazy types of people and queried about how it all works.

I met some nice young kids -- Tyler, Mike, Joelle, and John. They shared a beer with me and spaced with me. They identified most of the features on the wall, and we enjoyed watching the cluster f*ck on Sycle ledge. Later that afternoon, I wandered back to camp, and they went swimming in the river. I ran into Even, Stephen, Colleen, and Jeff at the slabs and they gave me a top rope on a fun little nameless 5.7 flake. Funny thing, Even and Tyler go to school together. I was meeting friends of friends.

Kevin and Gabe in a surprising success (to them, not me) did the Regular route clean and in short order. Kev looked tired the next morning so I had him teach me aiding and top rope soloing. I did Church Book Tree. A 10b/C1 climb. It was fantastic. I aided, top soloed, and then jugged. The afternoon was done and we were both in need of food.

Thursday evening I met Mash and Molly who moved to the Caribbean and were doing some climbing in the valley. Mash was home, and very enjoyable to meet. I should have gotten his e-mail. Such is life.

Friday, it was time to clear out of camp. I cleaned up and said good by to Tom and Danny, Anni and Pauli, and the rest of the crew. Kev and I met up and ran up the Frenzy. This climb was amazing, and the view of El Cap only improved as you moved up the pitches. On the last two pitches I got my game face on, and I got my very first gear bootie. I plucked a nut placement that came out like it was forgotten not stuck. I think I'm close to figuring out how to climb. Kevin was a great guide and I look forward to climbing with him again -- Maybe this winter after the holidays.

I feel like something profound should be said here. Something that would let you know that everything in the world is going to be alright, or maybe just to let you know I am going to be alright. All I can say is -- "What you manifest is before you" from The Art of Racing in the Rain.

Peace, Love.