The time was late August, 1965. Lyndon Johnson was in the White House and opposition to the Vietnam War was growing. A gallon of gasoline cost well less than a dollar and fueled my father’s Volkswagen Beetle for 33 miles. Bob Dylan had recently plugged in. A Kansasan named Jim Ryun was about to become the first high schooler to run a mile in less than four minutes. “Transistor” radios were popular; personal computers were a thing of the future. In a couple of weeks I would begin my last year of high school.
The place was the Gunks, where Jim McCarthy was the leading climber and we all hammered pitons into the rock for protection. The shoes (mountain boots and kletter shoes) still had hard rubber soles, but the carabineers were made of aluminum and the new nylon ropes of core and sheath design stretched to absorb energy in a fall. The Art Gran guide book, the area’s first, had been published the year before. The hardest climbs Gran described were grade 5.10; there were only a few.
John Parker, a student at Yale, and I were spending a week climbing. We started with Gelsa, a great 5.4 in the Near Trapps and worked our way up the grades. 5.7 seemed to be our limit: about what John could lead and I could follow. One day, John suggested we try top roping a 5.8 called Jacobs Ladder. It is a thin face climb put in near the Uberfall by Phil Jacobus. We spent a full afternoon trying, but neither of us could climb it. I couldn’t get more than a few feet up. It seemed impossible. There was no question of needing to be just a little stronger or a bit more flexible. I simply could not imagine how a human being could climb it.
John and I went back to easier things, including my first trad lead (the second pitch of Baby). But the lesson of Jacobs’s Ladder stuck with me: there was no way on God’s green earth that I would ever be able to climb Gunk’s 5.8. In succeeding years I climbed the Grand Teton and Mount Rainier. In winter I did Mount Washington and the three main peaks of the Northern Presidentials. I led 5.8 cracks in Yosemite. But I never again tried a Gunks 5.8. I had [over] learned my lesson.
When my older daughter Karen got me back into rock climbing two years ago, I happily decided I would spend my second-time-around climbing career doing those wonderful, easy 5.3s and 5.4s which abound at the Gunks. But as I climbed and my skills developed, I led a few slightly harder routes. By the spring of 2008, I had, much to my surprise, led a few 5.7s, a couple on sight. I had noticed in the latest Dick Williams Guidebook that my old nemesis, Jacobs Ladder, was not a 5.8 after all. Williams now rated it 5.10b. Richafrd Goldstone explained that Gran tended to rate the climber, rather than the climb. He thought Jacobus couldn't climb harder than 5.8, so Jacob's Ladder had to be a 5.8. Nonetheless, I stayed true to the lesson of 1965 and kept off Gunks 8s.
Then my friend Don suggested we do Arrow. He had previously followed it and assured me that he would lead the harder second pitch and that I would be able to follow the 5.8 crux move at the top. I reluctantly agreed to give it a try. Don led without trouble. I took several tries (and falls) to figure out the crux move; but I got it! At age 60, 43 years after I had failed on Jacobs Ladder, I had climbed my first Gunks 5.8. But, after the excitement of my achievement wore off, I decided that Arrow couldn’t be a “real” 5.8. I had climbed it, so it must be over rated. I went back and led it with my good friends Annie and Jean. That convinced me: Arrow can’t be a true 5.8, not if I could lead it.
[My younger daughter Valerie seems to have learned this habit of mind from me. A very good college rower, she is often heard to opine that any team she can make (e.g., the University of Pennsylvania's first varsity boat) can't be very good. She is quite wrong.]
On subsequent trips to New Paltz, I tried a few more Gunks 8s. After our misadventure on Columbia/Madame Gs (see below), Carolyn and I spent a day top roping on the Herdie Gerdie block. I got up Dirty Gerdie (5.8) and ¾ of the way up Herdie Gerdie (5.8+). I also did Red Cabbage (5.9-); but I think I cheated around the crux. A couple of weeks later, Lois kindly agreed to belay me on top rope attempts of the first pitches of Columbia and Hyjek’s Horror, both rated 5.8. I succeeded on both. Hmmm? Maybe, just maybe, I can climb Gunks 5.8 after all. But after a bit of quiet reflection, I decided no, I probably can’t. Hyjek’s and Columbia must be over-rated also.
Carolyn led me up City Lights, a 5.8 on which I took a couple of falls before turning the crux. She and I top roped the first pitch of Son of Easy O, a beautiful, thin face 5.8 I had been wanting to try for a while. I climbed it in good style without falling. Can all these 8s be over-graded? The same day we returned to the Herdie Gerdie block where I got all the way up Herdie Gerdie (5.8+) and Carolyn fought her way ¾ of the way up Dogs in Heat. It is a (gasp!) 5.11. That girl can climb!!
I climbed with Don again in early October. Among the routes we did was Main Line in the Near Trapps (thanks to Dick Williams for the new “Purple Dick” guidebook). Its first pitch is a tricky corner that Williams rates 5.7. I led it. Don led the second pitch, the crux of which is a 5.8 overhang. I found that overhang relatively easy. A week later, Don and I did Alphonse, another Near Trapps route with a 5.8 overhang crux on the second pitch. Don led and I found it very do-able. We also climbed Te Dum, a 5.7 I remember struggling to climb back in 1965. This time it was well within my ability.
After we finished Te Dum, Don left. I met up with Jean and Annie, newly arrived from Vermont for a week’s climbing. As evening fell, I watched Jean do a very impressive lead of Handy Andy. I think she did the 5.8 variation. Annie followed. We had dinner with Carolyn and spent Saturday night at the Creekview Campground, J and A in their very nifty VW camper van and I in my somewhat less spiffy, but much beloved, min-van Ezzie.
Sunday was a beautiful fall day with bright blue skies, cool temps and a quilt of red, gold, green and brown foliage laid out at the base of the cliffs. I was happy to spend a day doing mellow climbing with good friends. Jean did a nice lead of Te Dum; as sometimes happens, I found it harder the second time than it had seemed the day before. I often take a climb too casually on a second ascent and don’t focus as I should. Annie then led us up Gelsa, for me another repeat from the day before. She handled the lead well, effectively solving the problems posed by getting off-route and having to down-climb on the second pitch. The climbing was good, but the day stands out in my memory for the good friends and the airy ledges that let me feel a part of the beautiful sky, sun, rock and color. Gunks magic.
On the 7 hour drive home (bad traffic) I had time to think. Maybe I got it wrong back in 1965. Maybe I can climb Gunks 8s. I’ve done a bunch of them, even led one. Surely they can’t all be over-rated. Slowly it sank in: I’m ready to start leading gunks 8s. I think my next 5.8 lead will be Son of Easy O. I’ve done the first pitch and looked hard at the second from below. It looks very doable.
In the overall scheme of things, and even in the narrower world of rock climbing, leading 5.8 in the Gunks is not a big deal, certainly not in a world where kids are sent to kill and die in Iraq and teenagers with a year or two of climbing experience are leading 5.12 and harder. But for me it is a big deal. To be able to do a physical activity better and harder at age 61 than I could do it at ages 16 through 22 astonishes me. To be having more fun climbing now than I did 40 years ago is a gift. I feel almost as if I have been given a second chance at life. I can’t know how long this will last. But I am loving it while it does.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Thursday, July 31, 2008
The Red Cabbage Gap
My father liked pickled red cabbage. On the rare occasions when my mother served it for dinner, he would talk about something he called the "Red Cabbage Gap." I never quite understood what the Red Cabbage Gap was, something I suppose about folks not eating enough red cabbage. But I always think fondly of my father when something reminds of red cabbage. He was the kindest human being I have ever met.
I thought of him last Tuesday. Carolyn and I spent the day top roping some climbs on the Dirty Gerdie boulder/slab near the Uberfall at the Gunks. After, Herdie Gerdie (5.8), and Dirty Gerdie (5.8+), we did Red Cabbage (an interesting crack climb that Williams rates 5.9-). I managed to get up it on my second try. It was the first 5.9 I have ever done in the Gunks. I'm glad it made me think of my father and the Red Cabbage Gap.
One thing the day showed beyond doubt is that Carolyn is a stronger climber than I. She climbed Herdie Gerdie without any observable problem and got up Dirie Gerdie with only a bit of struggle. I on the other hand took innumerable falls before I figured out how to do the cux on Herdie Gerdie, and managed to make it only about 2/3of the way up Dirty Gerdie. On the latter I did at least solve the tricky mantle move. In fact, I did it repeatedly because I kept falling off above and going back up to try the upper part again.
To my surprise, Carolyn tried a 5.11 route called Dogs in Heat. Despite repeated tries, she couldn't quite pull the crux, but I think she was close. I was proud of her. She'll get it next time.
This was the hardest climbing I have done since resuming the sport 2 years ago. I am very sore today (arms and shoulders, particularly). But, if I keep spending some of my climbing time doing similar and maybe even harder routes on top rope, I think I will actually be able to increase the difficulty of what I can climb. Kind of cool for an old man.
Ironically, of the three routes I tried, Red Cabbage, although rated the hardest, was the least difficult for me. Could it be that I have a bit of crack technique left over from Yosemite in 1972? Or was it just my dad's influence, encouraging and supportive as always? He was, after all, the one who drove me to the Gunks for my first rock climbing weekend when I was 13 or 14.
Day after tomorrow Lois and I leave for Honduras on a trip with her church. We are going to be there for about 10 days helping to finish a school the Episcopal Church has been trying for several years to open. We have a heavy suitcase full of parts for a jungle gym the group is going to assemble for the school playground. This will be a real adventure: neither of us has been to central America before.
I thought of him last Tuesday. Carolyn and I spent the day top roping some climbs on the Dirty Gerdie boulder/slab near the Uberfall at the Gunks. After, Herdie Gerdie (5.8), and Dirty Gerdie (5.8+), we did Red Cabbage (an interesting crack climb that Williams rates 5.9-). I managed to get up it on my second try. It was the first 5.9 I have ever done in the Gunks. I'm glad it made me think of my father and the Red Cabbage Gap.
One thing the day showed beyond doubt is that Carolyn is a stronger climber than I. She climbed Herdie Gerdie without any observable problem and got up Dirie Gerdie with only a bit of struggle. I on the other hand took innumerable falls before I figured out how to do the cux on Herdie Gerdie, and managed to make it only about 2/3of the way up Dirty Gerdie. On the latter I did at least solve the tricky mantle move. In fact, I did it repeatedly because I kept falling off above and going back up to try the upper part again.
To my surprise, Carolyn tried a 5.11 route called Dogs in Heat. Despite repeated tries, she couldn't quite pull the crux, but I think she was close. I was proud of her. She'll get it next time.
This was the hardest climbing I have done since resuming the sport 2 years ago. I am very sore today (arms and shoulders, particularly). But, if I keep spending some of my climbing time doing similar and maybe even harder routes on top rope, I think I will actually be able to increase the difficulty of what I can climb. Kind of cool for an old man.
Ironically, of the three routes I tried, Red Cabbage, although rated the hardest, was the least difficult for me. Could it be that I have a bit of crack technique left over from Yosemite in 1972? Or was it just my dad's influence, encouraging and supportive as always? He was, after all, the one who drove me to the Gunks for my first rock climbing weekend when I was 13 or 14.
Day after tomorrow Lois and I leave for Honduras on a trip with her church. We are going to be there for about 10 days helping to finish a school the Episcopal Church has been trying for several years to open. We have a heavy suitcase full of parts for a jungle gym the group is going to assemble for the school playground. This will be a real adventure: neither of us has been to central America before.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Bad News, Good News
I’m thinking I need to bring things up to date climbing-wise. First, the bad news. I cancelled the trip to the Tetons. It’s a weird story. I’ve had pain in my Achilles tendons for many years, since I was training for and competing at the mile run in high school and college. In the last few months (since January), the pain has gotten worse, but I didn’t think too much of it. I’ve been climbing a lot, so of course my ankles and feet hurt. I didn’t think it was more than an annoyance to be tolerated.
But, a few weeks ago, I read in the newspaper that the FDA had just issued a warning that the powerful antibiotic Cipro and related drugs sometimes cause tendonitis leading to ruptures, particularly of the Achilles tendon. I freaked because starting in January I have taken several courses of treatment with Cipro for an intestinal infection. All of a sudden my increased tendon pain scared me. Am I about to rupture an Achlles tendon? The FDA web site said that if someone taking Cipro develops tendon pain, he/she should stop taking the drug and cease all physical activity. It also said the ruptures can occur months after one stops the drug.
Being miles up Garnet Canyon with a heavy pack on my way to the Lower Saddle on the Grand Teton didn’t seem like a very good idea. After consulting a doctor friend I trust (not the one who prescribed the Cipro) I decided to bail on the Tetons. I reluctantly told Marc, with whom I had been planning to climb the Grand. He was a good sport, and we are now planning to climb in Red Rock in November.
Of course, I haven’t followed the FDA’s advice to avoid all physical activity. I’ve been working out at the exercise gym as much as I can without putting too much stress on my tendons. I’ve been to the climbing gym. And, best of all, I’ve been to the Gunks several times, which brings me to the good news.
With my ankles well taped (a skill I learned from the trainer at my college who used to tape my ankles before every track practice) I’ve been able to climb without much pain. Right now my tendons don’t hurt at all when I walk, which is unusual.
I’ve been working my way through the Gunks 5.7s and have recently led Classic, Thin Slabs (5.7 direct start) and Handy Andy, in addition to Limelight and Bloody Mary which I did earlier. I’ve also led Arrow twice, making it my first and only Gunks 5.8 lead.
I’ve done most of my recent climbing with a new friend, Carolyn, who lives in New Paltz and works for both EMS and the Mohonk Preserve (the outfit that owns and manages the trust land on which most of the Gunks cliffs are located). We seem quite compatible as climbing partners and have had some very good times on the rock. One of the best was about 10 days ago on Carolyn’s birthday. She wanted to celebrate by leading High Exposure for the first time. We set out on a bright sunny morning and found the climb available. There was a fellow rope-soloing Directissima, a 5.9 next door, but no one on our route.
High E is THE 5.6 Gunks climb, put in by legendary climbers Hans Kraus and Fritz Wiessner in 1941. The first pitch is pretty mellow and leads up the left side of a large buttress to a very big, flat belay ledge under a large roof. The second pitch begins with a one-of-a-king move out from under the roof, onto an incredibly exposed, slightly overhanging face. The route follows that steep face to the top. To pull the MOVE, one must crouch down under the roof, work out right over the abyss, and find hold on the face above. Exhilarating, shall we say?
After some understandable hesitation and and a bit of moving up and down to the roof, Carolyn pulled the move and led up the steep face to the top. I followed her and we celebrated a great birthday achievement with photos at the top. While on the big ledge, we had met a very nice couple who joined us that evening for Carolyn’s birthday dinner.
Carolyn’s and my latest adventure involved an attempt to climb Madame G’s, another great Gunks 5.6. Carolyn had no problem leading the first pitch to a comfy belay at an oak tree. But that is where the trouble began. Even though I have climbed the route twice before, I managed to direct Carolyn into the wrong corner at the start of the second pitch. This error put us on the second pitch of a climb called Columbia, a pitch that is rated 5.7 by Williams and 5.9- by Swain (go figure). In any event, we both managed to climb past the crux. Carolyn led it and then, not seeing where to go, came down. I went up to take my turn. Thinking I was on Madame G’s, I sought in vain for a viable traverse right to the little semi-hanging belay that I remembered as the end of the Madame’s second pitch. After trying a few traverses that petered out, I managed finally to get to the belay, but only by climbing up much of Columbia, across a sketchy traverse, and down the face about 20 feet to the belay. We agreed that it made no sense for Carolyn to try to follow that bizarre route. So I had to reverse the path to get back to Carolyn at the first pitch belay on Madame G’s. I took a harmless fall trying to down climb the crux on Columbia (those new-fangled cam thingys hold really well, and they are so much easier to place and clean than were pitons!). We ended up climbing a nearby 5.2(Southern Pillar). From a ledge part way up SP, Carolyn lowered me down Columbia so I could retrieve our gear. I then climbed Columbia for the third time (counting my down-climb adventure) so we could finish SP and rap down from the Madame G’s chains. The whole thing was actually more fun than it sounds; but I don’t want to repeat it any time soon.
Tomorrow I am going back to the Gunks for one more day of climbing. It’ll be my last for couple of weeks because my wife (Lois) and I are leaving on August 2nd for a trip with a group from her church to help finish work on a school there. No climbing, but I am really looking forward to traveling with Lois: we always have fun together on trips. And, we’ll be seeing a part of the world we have never before visited.
Photos: Top -- Carolyn at the High E belay ledge. Bottom -- Carolyn pulling THE move on High E.
But, a few weeks ago, I read in the newspaper that the FDA had just issued a warning that the powerful antibiotic Cipro and related drugs sometimes cause tendonitis leading to ruptures, particularly of the Achilles tendon. I freaked because starting in January I have taken several courses of treatment with Cipro for an intestinal infection. All of a sudden my increased tendon pain scared me. Am I about to rupture an Achlles tendon? The FDA web site said that if someone taking Cipro develops tendon pain, he/she should stop taking the drug and cease all physical activity. It also said the ruptures can occur months after one stops the drug.
Being miles up Garnet Canyon with a heavy pack on my way to the Lower Saddle on the Grand Teton didn’t seem like a very good idea. After consulting a doctor friend I trust (not the one who prescribed the Cipro) I decided to bail on the Tetons. I reluctantly told Marc, with whom I had been planning to climb the Grand. He was a good sport, and we are now planning to climb in Red Rock in November.
Of course, I haven’t followed the FDA’s advice to avoid all physical activity. I’ve been working out at the exercise gym as much as I can without putting too much stress on my tendons. I’ve been to the climbing gym. And, best of all, I’ve been to the Gunks several times, which brings me to the good news.
With my ankles well taped (a skill I learned from the trainer at my college who used to tape my ankles before every track practice) I’ve been able to climb without much pain. Right now my tendons don’t hurt at all when I walk, which is unusual.
I’ve been working my way through the Gunks 5.7s and have recently led Classic, Thin Slabs (5.7 direct start) and Handy Andy, in addition to Limelight and Bloody Mary which I did earlier. I’ve also led Arrow twice, making it my first and only Gunks 5.8 lead.
I’ve done most of my recent climbing with a new friend, Carolyn, who lives in New Paltz and works for both EMS and the Mohonk Preserve (the outfit that owns and manages the trust land on which most of the Gunks cliffs are located). We seem quite compatible as climbing partners and have had some very good times on the rock. One of the best was about 10 days ago on Carolyn’s birthday. She wanted to celebrate by leading High Exposure for the first time. We set out on a bright sunny morning and found the climb available. There was a fellow rope-soloing Directissima, a 5.9 next door, but no one on our route.
High E is THE 5.6 Gunks climb, put in by legendary climbers Hans Kraus and Fritz Wiessner in 1941. The first pitch is pretty mellow and leads up the left side of a large buttress to a very big, flat belay ledge under a large roof. The second pitch begins with a one-of-a-king move out from under the roof, onto an incredibly exposed, slightly overhanging face. The route follows that steep face to the top. To pull the MOVE, one must crouch down under the roof, work out right over the abyss, and find hold on the face above. Exhilarating, shall we say?
After some understandable hesitation and and a bit of moving up and down to the roof, Carolyn pulled the move and led up the steep face to the top. I followed her and we celebrated a great birthday achievement with photos at the top. While on the big ledge, we had met a very nice couple who joined us that evening for Carolyn’s birthday dinner.
Carolyn’s and my latest adventure involved an attempt to climb Madame G’s, another great Gunks 5.6. Carolyn had no problem leading the first pitch to a comfy belay at an oak tree. But that is where the trouble began. Even though I have climbed the route twice before, I managed to direct Carolyn into the wrong corner at the start of the second pitch. This error put us on the second pitch of a climb called Columbia, a pitch that is rated 5.7 by Williams and 5.9- by Swain (go figure). In any event, we both managed to climb past the crux. Carolyn led it and then, not seeing where to go, came down. I went up to take my turn. Thinking I was on Madame G’s, I sought in vain for a viable traverse right to the little semi-hanging belay that I remembered as the end of the Madame’s second pitch. After trying a few traverses that petered out, I managed finally to get to the belay, but only by climbing up much of Columbia, across a sketchy traverse, and down the face about 20 feet to the belay. We agreed that it made no sense for Carolyn to try to follow that bizarre route. So I had to reverse the path to get back to Carolyn at the first pitch belay on Madame G’s. I took a harmless fall trying to down climb the crux on Columbia (those new-fangled cam thingys hold really well, and they are so much easier to place and clean than were pitons!). We ended up climbing a nearby 5.2(Southern Pillar). From a ledge part way up SP, Carolyn lowered me down Columbia so I could retrieve our gear. I then climbed Columbia for the third time (counting my down-climb adventure) so we could finish SP and rap down from the Madame G’s chains. The whole thing was actually more fun than it sounds; but I don’t want to repeat it any time soon.
Tomorrow I am going back to the Gunks for one more day of climbing. It’ll be my last for couple of weeks because my wife (Lois) and I are leaving on August 2nd for a trip with a group from her church to help finish work on a school there. No climbing, but I am really looking forward to traveling with Lois: we always have fun together on trips. And, we’ll be seeing a part of the world we have never before visited.
Photos: Top -- Carolyn at the High E belay ledge. Bottom -- Carolyn pulling THE move on High E.
Friday, June 13, 2008
GRAND DREAMS
Oh, but we were so much older then,
We’re younger than that now.
There is a website (www.tetonclimbinghistory.com) where you will find digital images of the summit registers for the Grand Teton from 1898 through the 1980s. I couldn’t resist. After hunting for a bit, I found, on the page for August 4, 1971, the following entry: “Bill Hutchins, Philadelphia, PA, Petzoldt Ridge.”
Yep, on that day, 37 years ago, I and a fellow also named Bill whom I had met at Jenny Lake climbed the Grand via the Petzoldt Ridge. My partner was a very good rock climber from the Gunks, but had little experience in the mountains, so most of the planning and route finding fell to me. I spent a sleepless night in a wind buffeted tent on the crest of the Lower Saddle worrying about everything that could possibly go wrong, from not finding the start of the route to being hit by a monster thunderstorm on the summit. However, and despite a few disagreements about Bill’s belaying me without gloves (we used hip belays then, kids) and my tendency to run out moderate rock, we made it to the summit without problems. My cunning plan to follow a guide party down the Owen Spalding descent route (which the guidebook warned could be hard to follow) fizzled when the guide got lost and we had to find our own way down, followed by the guide and his two clients.
I talked Bill into glissading down from the Lower Saddle into Garnet Canyon, but forgot to warn him to wear long sleeves. He rubbed his forearms raw doing an ice-ax self arrest part way down. I wrapped his arms in gauze, which stuck to the open wounds as they dried and was very painful to remove the next day. Bill was not at all happy with me. Nonetheless, that climb of the Grand was one of the hi-lights of my thoroughly undistinguished mountaineering career.
As the years have gone by, I have thought often of that climb. A proud achievement, yes. But one that belonged in a different lifetime to a younger, stronger person. In the several years before my retirement last fall, I walked past a beautiful photograph of the Tetons with the Grand in the middle (of course) as I made my way down the hall to my office each morning. I remembered my climb and tried without success to imagine myself again climbing to the summit. No, that kind of adventure, requiring real physical strength and stamina, was behind me. I was old and far too weak to do anything like that again.
But as I have gotten back into climbing in the last two years, thoughts of the Grand have stayed with me. I asked for, and received, the photograph as a retirement gift from my colleagues in my old office. They framed it beautifully, and I look at it in my bedroom every day. I bought the latest edition of the Teton guidebook and then a topo map of the Grand Teton National Park. As I studied both, the idea grew: maybe I could climb the Grand again. Sometimes I think its possible; other times I think its beyond me. But I've decided to try.
My Red Rock friend and climbing partner Marc and I have arranged to meet at the Teton Climbers Ranch in late July of this year. Our tentative objective is the complete Exum Ridge, a wonderful Grade III, 5.7 right next to my old friend the Petzoldt Ridge.
I am doing everything I can to prepare. I’ve been working out regularly, with a particular emphasis on cardio-vascular conditioning to try to get ready for the strenuous hiking and climbing we will have to do at altitudes up to almost 14,000 feet. I have been climbing a lot, including leading quite a few Gunks 5.7s and one 5.8. I am climbing as well or better than as I was in 1971. I will be spending a week climbing at Seneca Rocks shortly. Then, Lois and I are going to take another week to hike through New Hampshire's Pemigewasset wilderness.
I am going to go out to the Tetons about 10 days before Marc to get acclimated to the altitude and to reconnoiter the approaches to our route. I am hoping to be able to do a couple of warm up climbs as well, which should give me a good sense of whether my fitness is up to the Grand. If not, I’ll call Marc and give him the bad news that we need to scrub the climb. But I am hopeful we can do it. If so I’ll post pictures and a trip report here.
We’re younger than that now.
There is a website (www.tetonclimbinghistory.com) where you will find digital images of the summit registers for the Grand Teton from 1898 through the 1980s. I couldn’t resist. After hunting for a bit, I found, on the page for August 4, 1971, the following entry: “Bill Hutchins, Philadelphia, PA, Petzoldt Ridge.”
Yep, on that day, 37 years ago, I and a fellow also named Bill whom I had met at Jenny Lake climbed the Grand via the Petzoldt Ridge. My partner was a very good rock climber from the Gunks, but had little experience in the mountains, so most of the planning and route finding fell to me. I spent a sleepless night in a wind buffeted tent on the crest of the Lower Saddle worrying about everything that could possibly go wrong, from not finding the start of the route to being hit by a monster thunderstorm on the summit. However, and despite a few disagreements about Bill’s belaying me without gloves (we used hip belays then, kids) and my tendency to run out moderate rock, we made it to the summit without problems. My cunning plan to follow a guide party down the Owen Spalding descent route (which the guidebook warned could be hard to follow) fizzled when the guide got lost and we had to find our own way down, followed by the guide and his two clients.
I talked Bill into glissading down from the Lower Saddle into Garnet Canyon, but forgot to warn him to wear long sleeves. He rubbed his forearms raw doing an ice-ax self arrest part way down. I wrapped his arms in gauze, which stuck to the open wounds as they dried and was very painful to remove the next day. Bill was not at all happy with me. Nonetheless, that climb of the Grand was one of the hi-lights of my thoroughly undistinguished mountaineering career.
As the years have gone by, I have thought often of that climb. A proud achievement, yes. But one that belonged in a different lifetime to a younger, stronger person. In the several years before my retirement last fall, I walked past a beautiful photograph of the Tetons with the Grand in the middle (of course) as I made my way down the hall to my office each morning. I remembered my climb and tried without success to imagine myself again climbing to the summit. No, that kind of adventure, requiring real physical strength and stamina, was behind me. I was old and far too weak to do anything like that again.
But as I have gotten back into climbing in the last two years, thoughts of the Grand have stayed with me. I asked for, and received, the photograph as a retirement gift from my colleagues in my old office. They framed it beautifully, and I look at it in my bedroom every day. I bought the latest edition of the Teton guidebook and then a topo map of the Grand Teton National Park. As I studied both, the idea grew: maybe I could climb the Grand again. Sometimes I think its possible; other times I think its beyond me. But I've decided to try.
My Red Rock friend and climbing partner Marc and I have arranged to meet at the Teton Climbers Ranch in late July of this year. Our tentative objective is the complete Exum Ridge, a wonderful Grade III, 5.7 right next to my old friend the Petzoldt Ridge.
I am doing everything I can to prepare. I’ve been working out regularly, with a particular emphasis on cardio-vascular conditioning to try to get ready for the strenuous hiking and climbing we will have to do at altitudes up to almost 14,000 feet. I have been climbing a lot, including leading quite a few Gunks 5.7s and one 5.8. I am climbing as well or better than as I was in 1971. I will be spending a week climbing at Seneca Rocks shortly. Then, Lois and I are going to take another week to hike through New Hampshire's Pemigewasset wilderness.
I am going to go out to the Tetons about 10 days before Marc to get acclimated to the altitude and to reconnoiter the approaches to our route. I am hoping to be able to do a couple of warm up climbs as well, which should give me a good sense of whether my fitness is up to the Grand. If not, I’ll call Marc and give him the bad news that we need to scrub the climb. But I am hopeful we can do it. If so I’ll post pictures and a trip report here.
Friday, May 16, 2008
My Lazy Retirement
What happened to all that free time? To those long lazy mornings when I was going to loll about in my PJs sipping coffee and petting the cat? To the problem of not having enough to do in retirement to stave off boredom?
Forget about it!
Since getting back from Red Rock I have been one busy Relic. Granted, for the first couple of weeks, I chilled, recovering from the trip. But since then, my schedule seems to be designed to test how much activity it will take to wear me out.
I climbed at Rock State Park here in Maryland with daughter Karen, who was visiting on Spring break from grad school in Boston. We top-roped several climbs and, for the first time, I was able to get up a couple of routes, one rated 5.8 and another 5.9, that she couldn’t. When we were done she complained, “I don’t much like being smoked by my 60 year old father.” I replied with a philosophical grin, “I kind of like smoking you. But remember, time is on your side.” Indeed, it won’t be too long before she is visiting me in the nursing home and regaling me with stories of her climbs and races and swim meets, while I wonder how I am going to get out of the bed and into the wheelchair.
My regular climbing partner Peter and I made a trip to Seneca where we confirmed the received wisdom that weather forecasts for that valley are worthless, at best. Saturday was predicted to be wet, but turned out mostly dry. On Sunday, when the weather was supposed to be sunny, it poured. We managed only a couple of routes on the South End (which has a nice short approach that avoids the, by Bill, dreaded Stairmaster).
I’ve also been to the Gunks several times to climb with Peter, my friends Jon the air traffic controller and Don the mortgage broker, as well as Jean and Annie, who were on their annual trip south from Vermont to get a jump on the rock climbing season. On one of these trips I met Carolyn, a New Paltz resident-climber who is preparing for her guiding certification. We climbed together one day.
The Gunks climbing has been pretty interesting. I am working on stepping my leading up from 5.6 to 5.7, and to that end have managed to lead Limelight, Bloody Mary, and the 5.7 second pitch of Morning After. I even led Arrow (5.8), after following it. But, Gunks 5.7s do not appear ready to surrender the sharp end of the rope to me without a fight. I failed miserably in my effort to drag the rope up Handy Andy, a one pitch, thin-face 5.7 near Brat. I went up, and backed off. I went up, and fell. Twice more I went up; twice more I backed off. Finally Peter, apparently tiring of watching the fiasco, took a turn and climbed right up. Grrrrrrrr! By this time I was so discouraged that we had to enlist the services of a passing boulderer (who came walking along the carriage road complete with crash pad strapped to his back) to follow Peter and clean our gear. I whined all the way home in the car. On a subsequent trip, I followed Jean up the 5.7 direct start to Thin Slabs. As I struggled to stick to the sketchy holds, I decided I was in no hurry to come back and lead it. Worst of all is Laurel. How in the world does one start that climb? I have no idea; the foot-hold are non-existent.
There does seem to be a pattern here: the thin face climbs give me trouble, and many sevens at the Gunks consist of tiny, sloping holds on slabs. I decided the problem must be my shoes. Yes! I need better shoes. So, I went from shop to shop trying on every pair of climbing shoes they had to fit my long but skinny size 47 feet. Each pair promised miraculous edging, smearing, jamming or heel hooking (whatever that is). But slowly I confronted the awful truth: my La Sportiva Mythos shoes are just as good as any of these others. The problem may not be the shoes. As Pogo might have said in my situation, “I is met the enemy, and they is my technique.” Damn!! So now I am reduced to practicing my footwork and strengthening my hands. While climbing for two days with Jon, I consciously tried to use only the tiniest footholds available. I’ve dug out my grip trainer and am squeezing away. I’ll let you know if any of this helps.
Speaking of Jon, we had quite a soggy adventure. As seems to be standard practice when I climb with him, on the way north from Maryland I drove through a hard rain in New Jersey, only to find the sun shining on the Gunks. But it had been raining pretty hard in New Paltz the previous couple of days, which meant a lot of water was still draining down the cliffs, particularly in the corners. These conditions gave us a good chance to pretend to be fearless alpine climbers mastering wet rock on some of the easy routes. Jon led us up through the water on Tipsy Trees; and then I did Northern Pillar, with water running down onto my helmet and across the holds on the top, corner pitch. Not really the North face of the Eiger, but still fun.
Jammed in among these climbing trips, were two excursions to South Carolina where your Relic taught at the Department of Justice training center in Columbia, and a trip to Boston to visit Karen for her birthday. I’ve been home for only a very few days in the last six weeks.
Next week I am off to New Hampshire to climb with Karen on Cathedral Ledge and visit my Mother for her 97th birthday. The following week I am going back to New Paltz to climb with Jon and Carolyn. Lois and I are talking about a week long hiking trip through the Presidential range in New Hampshire’s White Mountains, and I am hoping to organize a climbing trip west in July, maybe to the Tetons. In August, Lois and I are going to Honduras to help build a school.
I am starting to have second thoughts about this retirement business. Maybe I need to get a nice office job, so I will have someplace to rest up from all this activity.
Forget about it!
Since getting back from Red Rock I have been one busy Relic. Granted, for the first couple of weeks, I chilled, recovering from the trip. But since then, my schedule seems to be designed to test how much activity it will take to wear me out.
I climbed at Rock State Park here in Maryland with daughter Karen, who was visiting on Spring break from grad school in Boston. We top-roped several climbs and, for the first time, I was able to get up a couple of routes, one rated 5.8 and another 5.9, that she couldn’t. When we were done she complained, “I don’t much like being smoked by my 60 year old father.” I replied with a philosophical grin, “I kind of like smoking you. But remember, time is on your side.” Indeed, it won’t be too long before she is visiting me in the nursing home and regaling me with stories of her climbs and races and swim meets, while I wonder how I am going to get out of the bed and into the wheelchair.
My regular climbing partner Peter and I made a trip to Seneca where we confirmed the received wisdom that weather forecasts for that valley are worthless, at best. Saturday was predicted to be wet, but turned out mostly dry. On Sunday, when the weather was supposed to be sunny, it poured. We managed only a couple of routes on the South End (which has a nice short approach that avoids the, by Bill, dreaded Stairmaster).
I’ve also been to the Gunks several times to climb with Peter, my friends Jon the air traffic controller and Don the mortgage broker, as well as Jean and Annie, who were on their annual trip south from Vermont to get a jump on the rock climbing season. On one of these trips I met Carolyn, a New Paltz resident-climber who is preparing for her guiding certification. We climbed together one day.
The Gunks climbing has been pretty interesting. I am working on stepping my leading up from 5.6 to 5.7, and to that end have managed to lead Limelight, Bloody Mary, and the 5.7 second pitch of Morning After. I even led Arrow (5.8), after following it. But, Gunks 5.7s do not appear ready to surrender the sharp end of the rope to me without a fight. I failed miserably in my effort to drag the rope up Handy Andy, a one pitch, thin-face 5.7 near Brat. I went up, and backed off. I went up, and fell. Twice more I went up; twice more I backed off. Finally Peter, apparently tiring of watching the fiasco, took a turn and climbed right up. Grrrrrrrr! By this time I was so discouraged that we had to enlist the services of a passing boulderer (who came walking along the carriage road complete with crash pad strapped to his back) to follow Peter and clean our gear. I whined all the way home in the car. On a subsequent trip, I followed Jean up the 5.7 direct start to Thin Slabs. As I struggled to stick to the sketchy holds, I decided I was in no hurry to come back and lead it. Worst of all is Laurel. How in the world does one start that climb? I have no idea; the foot-hold are non-existent.
There does seem to be a pattern here: the thin face climbs give me trouble, and many sevens at the Gunks consist of tiny, sloping holds on slabs. I decided the problem must be my shoes. Yes! I need better shoes. So, I went from shop to shop trying on every pair of climbing shoes they had to fit my long but skinny size 47 feet. Each pair promised miraculous edging, smearing, jamming or heel hooking (whatever that is). But slowly I confronted the awful truth: my La Sportiva Mythos shoes are just as good as any of these others. The problem may not be the shoes. As Pogo might have said in my situation, “I is met the enemy, and they is my technique.” Damn!! So now I am reduced to practicing my footwork and strengthening my hands. While climbing for two days with Jon, I consciously tried to use only the tiniest footholds available. I’ve dug out my grip trainer and am squeezing away. I’ll let you know if any of this helps.
Speaking of Jon, we had quite a soggy adventure. As seems to be standard practice when I climb with him, on the way north from Maryland I drove through a hard rain in New Jersey, only to find the sun shining on the Gunks. But it had been raining pretty hard in New Paltz the previous couple of days, which meant a lot of water was still draining down the cliffs, particularly in the corners. These conditions gave us a good chance to pretend to be fearless alpine climbers mastering wet rock on some of the easy routes. Jon led us up through the water on Tipsy Trees; and then I did Northern Pillar, with water running down onto my helmet and across the holds on the top, corner pitch. Not really the North face of the Eiger, but still fun.
Jammed in among these climbing trips, were two excursions to South Carolina where your Relic taught at the Department of Justice training center in Columbia, and a trip to Boston to visit Karen for her birthday. I’ve been home for only a very few days in the last six weeks.
Next week I am off to New Hampshire to climb with Karen on Cathedral Ledge and visit my Mother for her 97th birthday. The following week I am going back to New Paltz to climb with Jon and Carolyn. Lois and I are talking about a week long hiking trip through the Presidential range in New Hampshire’s White Mountains, and I am hoping to organize a climbing trip west in July, maybe to the Tetons. In August, Lois and I are going to Honduras to help build a school.
I am starting to have second thoughts about this retirement business. Maybe I need to get a nice office job, so I will have someplace to rest up from all this activity.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
George's Ankle
I got an email from George, the young Las Vegas climber who fell and injured his ankle when we were doing Tunnel Vision on the Angel Food wall at Red Rocks. He has been to an orthopedic specialist and reports that his ankle is broken in two places, not just sprained as his first doctor thought. This news leaves me even more amazed than I was originally that George was able to clear our stuck rope, rap down off our climb and hike out without assistance and with nothing more than my ace bandage and a little tape supporting his ankle. One tough, level headed dude! Here is a pic of him working up the squeeze chimney on the third pitch of Tunnel Vision.
He has relatives in New Jersey whom he visits from time to time. I am looking forward to climbing with him in the Gunks next time he comes east.
He has relatives in New Jersey whom he visits from time to time. I am looking forward to climbing with him in the Gunks next time he comes east.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
The Last Shall Be Best -- Birdland
I extended my stay here a day so that Marc and I could do Birdland, a highly touted line right next to a route we climbed earlier, Rawlpindi. It was a great day. The weather, the route and the companion were wonderful. Birdland has 5 pitches, with two crux pitches (3 and 5), both rated 5.7+.
I lead one crux and Marc, the other. But the whole route from top to bottom was very fun. No bad pitches and terrific, exposed face climbing up top. This was my best day here.
By the time we got back to the car and were driving away from the cliffs (for my last time, at least on this trip), it was nearly dark. My old body was very tired and sore.
I have had an even better trip than I imagined I would. Good new friends, particularly Marc (who really made the trip the success it has been for me), Johnny and George, excellent weather and some really fun climbing. Mixed in were the trips to places like the Grand Canyon and Zion that I had never seen before. I have become quite fond of the desert landscape, and am already trying to decide when would be the best time to come again.
I am sad to be leaving but looking forward to getting home to Lois, whom I have deeply missed. And, Karen will be home next week on spring break and says she wants to do some climbing. Is this good or what?
Photos from top: Bill leading pitch 3 (photo Marc Jensen); Marc leading pitch 4; Bill about to do the Pitch 5 finger crack (photo Marc J.).
I lead one crux and Marc, the other. But the whole route from top to bottom was very fun. No bad pitches and terrific, exposed face climbing up top. This was my best day here.
By the time we got back to the car and were driving away from the cliffs (for my last time, at least on this trip), it was nearly dark. My old body was very tired and sore.
I have had an even better trip than I imagined I would. Good new friends, particularly Marc (who really made the trip the success it has been for me), Johnny and George, excellent weather and some really fun climbing. Mixed in were the trips to places like the Grand Canyon and Zion that I had never seen before. I have become quite fond of the desert landscape, and am already trying to decide when would be the best time to come again.
I am sad to be leaving but looking forward to getting home to Lois, whom I have deeply missed. And, Karen will be home next week on spring break and says she wants to do some climbing. Is this good or what?
Photos from top: Bill leading pitch 3 (photo Marc Jensen); Marc leading pitch 4; Bill about to do the Pitch 5 finger crack (photo Marc J.).
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
