Monday, March 30, 2009

The SmithRockWay




My phone rang and the voice on the other end could have belonged to anyone. In the end I found myself two days later driving down to Smith Rocks with a car full of friends, new and old. Dom, Laura, and the voice on the phone Jerod who I had met at the WRG before but had never really talked to that much. He turned out to be a funny, and psyched climber, and with a car full of chatter, laughter, rainbows, and kisses, we made it to Skulls Hollow in good time with just enough night left to enjoy a dying fire and a cold sandwich. Our friends from Oly had already been enjoying the tuff of Smith for the last week or so, Jimmy and Jeremy arriving two days ahead of us, and Jeremy’s girlfriend arriving early in the week. So we were glad to have a campsite and company already locked down.
We woke up the next morning to the sun playing hide and seek behind the clouds, which actually made for perfect conditions once we were at our first stop of the trip, Morning Glory wall. Now, it had been some time since I had been to Smith (i.e. read previous blog please) so I had many things to choose from. Jimmy and Dom, already connoisseurs of what Smith has to offer, were quick to make suggestions and eyeing their first one, Cool Ranch Flavor, I thought why not. As a warm up it is pretty good, lots of fun jugs for the first 40 feet or so, and then right at the last bolt the crux sets in and you have to make a tricky traverse out right and bust up a couple of crimpy moves to the large pocket finishing jug. I hung out on the last jug before the crux for some time figuring out my plan of attack and then crimped into action pulling the crux and clipping the chains not even thinking about going after the .12a extension. Needless to say I was pumped and I felt like I needed to take a good fall to get the shakes out of my system but it wouldn’t happen for another route or so.


Jerod top ropes Cool Ranch Flavor(5.11a) with a local on 9 Gallon Buckets, and Dom nearing the top of Full Overboard(5.11c).

I leaned up against the fence waiting to de-pump and watched as Jimmy ran up CRF, and Dom onsighted Overboard full. After seeing Laura work Overboard on TR, I decided to go for it on lead since the draws were already up. Nice incut finger jugs, crimps, and laybacks led me up the wall and the consistency of the route was incredibly fun and pumpy. I clipped the chains and was psyched to have another .11 under the belt; it was a good start to the trip. Another .11 that started up Overboard and wandered left at the third bolt was getting more traffic than I-5 at 5:00, and was called Magic Light, or Traffic Light as one of the locals referred to it because of said traffic referred to earlier. I was also getting the spray down from a couple locals who said it was easier and better than Overboard. I jumped at the chance to get on it. I fought through a couple heinous crimpy lock off’s with smeary feet, sometimes spread out between two huge sidepulls, and other times crimping and smearing, but always pumped. As I neared the last clip I was just too pumped to make another hard crux move on a slopey sidepull and threw in the towel. I originally said take, but maybe I said it a little too soft for my belayer to hear and as I let go was greeted with a rush of air and a nice little lead fall.
Uhhh, to come so close to completing three nice .11’s in a row was hard to swallow, but I can’t be mad at the two that I did get done. It was just nice to get out on some real rock after not climbing outside for 5 months, and there were no complaints about the weather so far. Another notable ascent was Jerod onsighting 9 Gallon Buckets full, a super long pitch with a pretty tricky and crimpy crux section half way up, sandwiched between awesome sections of large huecos and honeycomb pockets. This was Jerods first trip to Smith and to put down a sweet route like that was impressive to watch. After collecting our belongings from the dusty walkway, strewn about amongst dogs, fence posts, water bottles, rope bags, myriads of climbing shoes, grigri’s, and the dozens of down jackets discarded as signs of a climbers absence from waiting purgatory. We finally set off to tackle the ‘most recognizable arête climb in the world’, Chain Reaction.


Jimmy on Chain Reaction(5.12c)

Smith had not changed one bit since the last time I had been there, and I have a feeling it probably hasn’t changed in the last 10 years, and won’t change in the next 100. Walking along the base of the broken walls, each sector unique in its own right featuring slab climbs, dihedrals, face climbs, cracks, laybacks, arêtes, double arêtes, overhangs and underhangs. The crowds of people were all too familiar and the sounds of someone struggling up their first 5.7 on top rope to the ear piercing power scream of someone heinously clinging to the rounded crimps of a well traveled Smith classic blended together to form a chorus of climbing history. This is what draws people to a place like Smith. It is the community of climbers, the horseback riders, the hikers, the campers, and even the people who walk along the trail of the Crooked River just to catch a glimpse of a tiny human figure making its way up a sheer orange rock face and shake their heads in amazement.
We landed at the flat face of Heinous Cling and Darkness at Noon, whose torn edge was the sport of our fancy. Luckily out of all of the climbers there on that day noone was attempting this popular climb, so Dom laced up his climbing boots and got to work. The first bit is like a 15 foot V.1 boulder problem until you hit a sinker four finger jug and make the first clip, then you can start unclenching your butt hole, but not for long. Another sinker finger jug lets you clip another bolt before powerfully slapping up a rugged arête leading you to a powerful jug encounter at the lip and a throw for the victory jug. Dom literally cruised up to the very last move for the victory jug but fell inches away from grabbing it.


Dom using his heel for the last move on Chain Reaction.

Jimmy was up next and hung once in the middle but fired the rest flawlessly. I tried my luck for the first time and got thrown by the power moves at the arête. Jimmy was confident about the redpoint and after I got down he got back on. He really hung on for dear life in some spots because his feet cut but would not let go. He made it to the last move and just hucked for the jug latching it pulling over the lip to clip the chains of his first 5.12c! I’m glad I got a front row seat, plus I can take some credit because I was belaying him, right? Good job Jimmy!


Jimmy grappling with the arete on Chain Reaction.



Jimmy cuts loose while grabbing the victory jug on Chain Reaction.

Dom tried it a couple more times but got stopped at the midpoint. He will definitely send it, I know because his first go on it showed his understanding of the route. I got a tad bit farther but I think I’ll just have to figure out my own beta, Chain Reaction is the sort of route that you have to figure out on your own sometimes. Well, Jimmy was pretty pumped up after his send and got on Heinous Cling going for the flash. I had to make a stop at the bathroom and on my way back I spotted him from the trail half way up this super vertical and notoriously run-out pitch. I’ve seen a few good lead falls from the crux and when Jimmy came to the point where you either have to commit or take a twenty footer he simply leaped to the jug rail and continued up for his second twelve of the day. It was turning out to be a highly productive day for him, so far redpointing Chain, and now with a flash of Heinous Cling.
We were all worn out, and decided to make a run for the gullies. Next up on the list was a stellar .10b, Chicken Nuggets, tucked up inside of the dusty nostril of Cocaine Gully. We tentatively made our way up the dusty and loose approach trail settling comfortably at the base of yet another cool vertical, semi-vertical, less than vertical pebble encrusted wall. Dom hitched up his harness and led his way up Chicken Nuggets. I laid on the rock above and took some pictures.


Dom on the first little bit of Chicken Niggets(5.10b)


Dom on the last little bit of Chicken Nuggets.

Now, there is a little debate in our tribe about what the best .10b in the park is, not that we have come close to doing all of them, well maybe Dom and Laura have, but my vote is for Chicken Nuggets. In my opinion it has everything, a cool overhung start into a neat crack, a traverse onto a face with pebbles and pockets, a little slab action and then another vertical face with chicken heads and pockets, what more do you want?!! Plus it’s a nice long pitch with a stellar view. I guess I’m the only one who can appreciate true beauty, but with all of that being said I opted out of the repeat, instead belaying Laura up it on TR, while Dom tried to make a bold onsight of what looked like an incredibly stout .12a just to the left of Vomit Launch.


Jimmy at Cocaine Gully.

Jimmy decided he had room for one more .12 and since Crack Babies was just up the trail we walked up and I sprayed him down with the beta as he roped up. This steep line is pretty juggy but powerful in places, like the crux, but Jimmy grunted his way through it only to fall at the very last clip. In the words of West Coast Gimps, Jimmy ‘you nearly had it done!’. It was cool to see his effort and to almost get another .12 flash, if he had polished this one off he would have sent .12a/b/c in one day at Smith, pretty incredible. I stepped up to the plate next, and made it through the crux but gave up. It took a couple hangs before I was at the chains but I do feel like this one will go next time, I need to get on it early in the day.
We were done for the day, and headed back to the parking lot after removing a couple of pounds of dust from our eyes and boots due to the decent from Cocaine gully. It had been a pretty sweet first day back at Smith for me, I’m really glad I got on all of the things I did and it makes me realize that I have a lot to look forward to when I return. That night the weather turned from better than nice, to torrential down pour, to snow, and back to nice but cold. We spent the duration of the downpour at the Terrebonne Depot where the server assigned to our table berated us for smelling like a camp fire. I had an amazingly good greek pita and we all bathed in the warmth and ambience of the climber owned restaurant. When we got back to camp I found a little water in my tent and decided I would spend the night in my car. It turned out to be a nice little sleeping compartment and I woke the next day feeling rested, but a little soar. We had breakfast with everyone, and then split to the Smith parking lot where we made our way to a sector of Smith I had never been to before called Northern point.



A really cool crag on very different rock, textured basalt. The climbs were shorter but still packed a punch. On my warm up I got shut down, but came back for the redpoint on my next go. It was an interesting .11a; I didn’t really enjoy the moves that much but it was still fun. Dom was raving about the .11a that he had just warmed up on and after Laura tried it on top rope and Jerod almost got it on lead, I belayed Jimmy up it and then went for it myself.


Jerod attempts Lady in the Meadow(5.11a), at Northern Point.

It had crazy cool features, really nice grips, pockets and holds with lips on them, so far I was really impressed. I got shut down again though at the crux and regretted cleaning this one because I should have got back on it for the redpoint. As I came down I heard the news that Dom had just flashed this cool .12a around the corner called Torrid Zone, a route that Jimmy had onsighted on the last trip. I took a look at the route as Dom gave me beta and decided to try it as well.
The moves were awesome, the beginning crux involved a sweet dyno from a jug on a slab to a huge jug on the more overhung section of the climb. After that it was establishing in some underclings and then making lock offs on crimps to a slopey jug, and then hiking the feet way high to get some leverage on a side pull you stab to some flat jugs and the chains. It was a really good route but I didn’t manage to send it. I pulled the draws and came back to the main area where Jimmy was attempting a sweet overhung .12b. It looked pretty stout, the crux involved some serious two finger pocket pulling to a slopey crimpy match and neither Jimmy nor Dom was able to get the redpoint. All in all Northern point is a pretty sweet crag, yet another amazing and unique sector to add to Smith’s roster. I’m psyched to come back, so much more to do. We packed up after that and headed back to the main parking lot where we decided it was best to just go home. We said farewell to Jimmy and after a small lunch hit the road, leaving Smith in our wake.


Our motley crew of climbing fanatics.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

My First Time...at Smith

With all this talk in the air about Smith Rocks and my friends taking a weekend trip there at the end of this week (I can't go because I have to move) I started to look through the remaining photos I have left on my computer. After a slight technical glitch(read:me being a dumbass and accidentally erasing 90% of all of my sport climbing photos) I had no choice but to peruse the only photos I have left of Smith, which are subsequently of my first time visiting the colossal crag, known for the first .14a on American soil, tiny edges and knobs, run out bolts, and the free camping at Skulls Hollow.


This is me after my first climb at Smith, Walking While Intoxicated. We had just arrived in the middle of the day to find Travis and Melissa hanging out in the shade of the Ship Wreck Wall. Travis immediately threw me the end of his rope and said, "Climb". I tried my hardest and came out with an onsight and a terrible pump, and was just glad I didn't fall because I was trying to look like an experienced climber in front of my friends.



This is me on my second ever Smith climb, Blue Light Special. I got spanked on the beginning, middle, and end, hanging on almost every draw before clipping the chains. Classic. After that, Travis decided to show me around.


After a quick tour he asked me what I wanted to get on. I was so overwhelmed, the towering orange walls that seemed to go on forever, the myriads of people everywhere, and observing a guy take a massive whipper on Rude Boys was a little much. I finally pointed at the pocketed wall of the Churning buttress. "That one looks good." I said, pointing at Churning in the Wake. I had no idea what I was doing. The first clip was heinous, and I realized that the pockets looked much deeper from the ground then when I tried jamming my fingers in them. I managed to make the second clip and after that it was hang dog, draw-grabbing fest. I took a few good whips, but overall I got shut down, and rightfully so. Lesson learned.




This should be self-explanatory.


Me on my fourth ever climb at Smith, the extension to 9 Gallon Buckets. No I didn't manage to send this one clean, falling at the crux, but I did make it to the chains hauling at least 20 pounds of draws with me. This climb concluded my first full day at Smith and what a day it was. The next day Travis and Melissa split and feeling a little awkward without them I tried Heinous Cling, leaving a draw at the first bolt, Ring of Fire, another hang dog fest, before retiring to the Phoenix crag where I did the Phoenix clean before heading home. Looking back on this trip it went way too fast but I had a great time getting my ass kicked on almost everything I got on and it was awesome to get out to a world famous crag only a few months into my outdoor climbing debut. My second ever trip to Smith was a longer one, about 5 days or so, and I climbed as if the rock was made of scorpions, and lazer shooting lava monsters. I was scared. Not sure why, probably because this had been the first trip outdoors since the Winter and I just did not have very much experience climbing outdoors at all. As much as I hated it at times this second trip was responsible for really instilling in me a love for camping, climbing, campfires, hanging out with friends, and lit a fire under my ass to get out more and climb. Out of that trip I grew into a pretty decent climber, and I learned to love those moments when you don't know what the next hold will be like, or where the next bolt is, and to love the adventure behind climbing at a new crag or on a route you've never climbed before. Just the challenge of conquering something you've never done before was thrilling, and each new climb I did thereafter I tried to tackle with that same enthusiasm.
Now I'm staring down the barrel of my third outdoor climbing season and all I can think about is what to project, and how long I want to spend at Squamish this summer, or when the next Leavenworth trip will be. Scouring over the pages of my Smith Rock guide I can only help but to get psyched on all of the possibilities that await this season, I just hope I'm strong enough, physically and mentally to climb some of them.


Crack Babies.