Climbing the colorful sandstone of Eldorado Canyon.
Climbing
There are few pursuits that can thrill and frighten me all at once like climbing. The adrenaline rush I get making an exposed move high above the ground is something that keeps me climbing. There is also the challenge, both mentally and physically, that makes climbing so addicting. Even after a poor performance on the rock, I just can't wait to get out climbing again. This page is basically my way of tracking my climbing ascents, both successful and unsuccessful.
Brian's Climbing Route Log
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Climbing Blog
Cadillac Crag, Eldo, June 27
Just up past the Rincon Wall in Eldorado Canyon, there is an awesome crag called Cadillac Crag, which has some really nice moderate trad leads, all in these long, cool V-slots. I had never been to Cadillac Crag before. I was climbing with another dude, Evan, that replied to my post on Mountain Project for climbing partners. We met up in Eldo and decided to give this crag a visit.
One of the great things about the Cadillac Crag is that it holds shade until around 1pm-2pm which is great in the hot summer months in Eldo where it can be stiflingly hot. I took the sharp end first, going for the onsight of Ghetto Cruiser (5.7). I hadn't plugged gear in about a month before racking up for this one, but I felt confident. Evan assured me that the route had good gear and only a couple spots where things might get tricky. I was up for the challenge. I cast off the belay and was climbing pretty well. At about mid-pitch, the rock steepened and the gear options disappeared for about 10 feet. I looked up from my position and took stock of the situation. There didn't look to be much for the hands (or feet) as I examined the next 10-15 feet, but then tried to remind myself that the climb was a 5.7...there had to be holds, right? After a couple step-ups (and step-downs) I committed to the moves, and before I knew it, I was high above my last piece of gear (basically a half-cammed but solid #.75 C4) and trying to get my feet set underneath me so I could find another place for gear. I slotted a nut behind a small flake and breathed a sigh of relief. Looking up now, I had the crux roof looming above. I climbed up to the roof, plugged in a big cam, and fired. The moves were burly but positive, and before I knew it, I was setting up an anchor and bringing Evan up the pitch. A successful onsight of a really fun, moderate gear route.
After Ghetto Cruiser, Evan took the sharp end for V3 (5.8). Evan made pretty quick work of the V-slot pitch. After setting up a belay from above, I followed the pitch and found it to be easier than Ghetto Cruiser...and not just because I led Ghetto Cruiser and only followed V3. It just didn't seem as sustained. Sure, there was one, maybe two, 5.8 moves on the pitch and the gear was great. I would like to try for the redpoint of this climb the next time I'm at Cadillac Crag.
Feeling a bit cocky after my performance on Ghetto and V3, I decided to rack up for one final onsight attempt...Gonzo (5.8). Also considered very well protected, the first pitch climbs a sweet finger crack into an arching corner. From the bottom, it looks really burly. But I figured I'd give it a go and if I wasn't feeling the love I'd lower off and give Evan a shot at it. I made the initial moves over this huge, runout boulder at the start of the pitch and then had to make an exciting step across the huge gap created by the leaning boulder to get into the finger crack. Everything was going well. I was getting good finger locks and good gear and then I came upon a very hollow, flake that sounded like a drum when banged on. This would be the flake I would have to lieback off to make the crux moves. The rock was steep, but the finger crack was positive. I slotted a bomber nut behind the flake, stepped up, and then back down again. As I looked up, I just didn't see anything for feet from my stance, and the thought of taking a fall (albeit a clean one) onto this single nut behind the hollow flake didn't excite me too much, so I slotted another nut above the one I had in, equalized them (bomber!), and told Evan to lower me off. After re-racking, Evan climbed up to the two nuts I had placed and went for the committing liebacks. His feet scuttled just a bit and I braced myself to catch a fall, but he held it together and after two moves, he had pulled through to a great stance on huecos where he was able to get more good gear. I was upset with myself. If I had just trusted the two bomber nuts I had placed in that hollow flake, I probably would have onsighted the pitch. I made the moves easily on toprope as I seconded the pitch. Redemption would have to be mine on the second (5.7) pitch.
When I got to Evan at the belay, I took over the rack again, and started up the second pitch...a steep slanting off-hand/fist crack that cuts across this huge face. The angling nature of the crack made the balance a bit awkward, and the steepness made it even more strenuous as there was little for feet outside of the crack itself. I got about halfway up the crack and just froze. I had a #3 C4 about 5 feet below my position and decided to place another #3 at my current position. Having used both #3 cams at this point, my fear was that I would run out of big gear for the remainder of the pitch, which was gobbling up big cams like crazy. Knowing that I had no more #3s on my rack, I began walking the second #3 up the crack as I climbed (tentatively) higher. It was at this point that I decided I just couldn't walk this cam up the crack anymore. The climbing was just too strenuous. I was now about 15 feet above my first #3, with the second #3 right at my waist. If I were to botch the move as I was removing the cam to walk it higher up the crack, I'd be looking at a scary, swinging 20+ foot fall. I tried to make the crux move a few times, grabbing gear the first time, and actually taking about a 5 foot fall after a couple half-hearted attempts. After the fall, I decided to give up on this pitch too. Humbled again, I asked Evan to bail me out. I lowered off, built a new anchor just above Evan's current belay. We re-racked and Evan started up. Evan is pretty tall, so when he got to the place I struggled, even he had a bit of trouble with the awkward move, but his height allowed him to reach up and grab the finishing jug that eases the difficulties. I just couldn't reach that damned jug! When Evan got to the belay and put me on, I climbed up to the crux and struggled pulling the move even on toprope. Perhaps I was getting tired, but I found this one move to be harder than anything I had climbed all day.
Overall, I really enjoyed the Cadillac Crag. I'll be back for redemption on Gonzo soon.
Two weeks later, June 24
This past week, I decided it was time to find some supplemental climbing partners. I just haven't been getting out as often as I'd like because of partner schedule conflicts and differing climbing goals. After a quick post on Mountain Project's partner forum, I received a few replies from interested climbers. I contacted one interested party and scheduled an after-work outing to Clear Creek Canyon's Canal Zone...my new favorite place for an after-work pump.
I met Marc at the trailhead and we headed up to the crag. He had never climbed in CCC before, or anyplace other than Garden of the Gods in Colorado Springs, so I would be tour guide for the evening. We started on a fun 5.8 that I had been stymied on a few weeks prior. The start has this weird lieback that seems to be a bit harder than 5.8. In fact, there have been a few people I've talked to that think that move is 5.9. Needless to say, I had to skirt the difficult move to the right...again! Perhaps I was a bit off on this particular evening, because I even had a couple "oh shit!" moments higher up on the pitch that I didn't experience the first time I climbed the route. Anyway, I made it to the top, set up a toprope, and lowered off to give Marc a shot at it. He struggled at the start as well...opting to flee right to avoid the difficulties.
After this "warm-up" 5.8, we decided to move down crag to Made In The Shade (5.9), a long, fun route with a lot of varying moves. It starts in a cool alcove with a couple burly liebacks on super-positive jugs to clip the first bolt and then it's an enjoyable clip-up for the next 50 feet. That's when the character of the climb changes. The angle steepens to vertical and the holds become these cool pockets and dishes that provide just enough security to find rests and clip the bolts. Having only a single 60m rope, I figured I just climb up to the lower anchors and rap off...no biggie, right? Nope. Three bolts into the steepest and most challenging part of the climb, I yelled down to Marc to ask how much rope we had left. He said I had about 15 feet (which I believe might have been a little off). From my vantage point, I could see 4 more bolts, 25 feet of rock, and no anchors in sight. I clipped a bail-biner to the bolt I was currently at, looked around, and noticed a set of anchors about 15 feet down and to the right from my current position. This wasn't the anchor for the route itself, but I had Marc lower me off the bail-biner as I back cleaned the draws enough to get me over to this other set of anchors. From here, we would be able to rap off the pitch and only lose a single carabiner. I was a little bummed that I wasn't able to finish the climb, though. Next time, I'm going to bring two ropes and pick this one off. The good news is that another party climbed the route right after us and retrieved my bail-biner.
Finally, we went down to the far right side of the crag and finished up on a route called Levada (5.8+). I weird little route that probably shouldn't have been bolted due to the copious amount of little cracks all the way up...although some of them were a little dirty and hollow. The last 20 feet of the route was runout, but the climbing was easy on jugs, huecos, and incut edges.
Brian onsights his first 5.10a, June 10
OK...so it was a sport route onsight, but still! I have never, I repeat, NEVER onsighted a 5.10 anything...not even on toprope! In fact, after 10 years of climbing, I think I can count the number of 5.10 climbs that I have actually redpointed on toprope on three fingers. Yesterday, Sean (a colleague from work) and I went out for an after work climb in Clear Creek Canyon. We chose to go to The Canal Zone because of its close proximity and wide variety of high quality, well-bolted sport climbs in the 5.8-5.11 range. Sean and I decided to "warm up" on the Gondolier Arete (5.10a)...the route I bailed on at the crux just two weeks prior. This time, I was gunning for the redpoint. There were only a couple other climbing parties at the crag, which was unusual. Usually the place is a complete zoo. Just as we flaked out the rope and racked up, the skies opened and the rain came down in big, fat drops...accompanied by lots of lightning and thunder. We sat under a large overhanging roof at the base of the crag and waited for the storm to pass. Forty-five minutes later, the storm had passed, the other climbers had left, and we owned the crag. The rock was a tad damp but certainly not unclimbable.
I started up a bit tentatively to get a feel for the friction offered by the damp rock. Because the route is almost vertical, it didn't get too wet, and before I knew it, I had clipped the top bolt right at the 5.10a crux. Once again, I had to weight the rope at the crux. Sean had told me that climbing left of the bolt on the arete was easier (5.9+) but I just couldn't figure out the sequence. After a couple different attempts and short falls, I decided to give the face straight up from the bolt a go. The consensus is that the face goes at 5.10a on very crimpy holds for two moves until you hit the finishing jug on a small ledge just below the anchors. Once I committed to the moves (and the fall potential), I pulled the crux rather easily. I was pretty happy with myself, even though I didn't get the redpoint. I had put myself in a position where a fall was likely and I went for it anyway...and succeeded! Now that I know the sequence, the next time I visit the Canal Zone, the redpoint of the arete will be mine.
Next, I took the sharp end again for a route called Ivy League (5.10a)...so named because of the poison ivy that typically grows at the base of the climb. While I did not see any poison ivy, I knew I'd have to climb my best to onsight the route. The crux of the route comes quickly...between the 2nd and 3rd bolts about 20' up. Similar to the Gondolier Arete, Ivy League is nearly vertical and the crux requires some crimpy moves to a super-positive incut hold and then some fun slopers to a good stance where you can clip the 3rd bolt. Once again, I took some time to figure out the best body position before attempting the moves. After a couple minutes of adjusting myself on the small but positive footholds, I committed to the crimps and pulled through the crux and before I knew it I was standing above the difficulties clipping the 3rd bolt. I still had about 50' of sustained 5.8-5.9 climbing ahead of me to the anchors, but the rest of the route would prove to be very enjoyable. When I got to the anchors, I was psyched. I had just onsighted my first 5.10a climb...ever!
What does this all mean? It means I am getting stronger. All the pullups and home climbing wall sessions are clearly paying off. Either that, or these routes are easier than 5.10a. Nevertheless, with each small success at the crags I build more confidence. Knowing that I can make 5.10 moves on bolted sport climbs gives me the mental boost I need to tackle 5.8 trad routes with confidence. It's all coming together.
Pushing through the fear, June 1
Despite all my struggles so far this season with the mental aspect of lead climbing, I finally had a pretty decent day yesterday (by my standards). Ben and I went up to the Rincon in Eldo so I could have a go at Over and Out (5.8). Ben would then lead the second pitch of Over the Hill (5.9)...arguably one of the best pitches of 5.9 in the canyon.
The beta I had on Over and Out was that there was "a bit of a runout" at the start of the climb...with about 10-15 feet of unprotected (yet "easy") climbing before you could get any gear in. After that, the route provided good gear and stances all the way to the belay. I don't like runouts, even on the easiest terrain, so this would be quite a challenge for me mentally. After scoping out the stances and potential gear options from the ground (it was hard to tell becuase there was a bit of vegetation growing out of the cracks in spots) I racked up and started up. Right off the bat, I got sketched out. I climbed up about 10 feet, tried to get a stance, and downclimbed again. I did this a few times, until I finally sacked up and made the one move I needed to make to get a reasonable stance and a bomber #3 C4...after hanging on a small cam that I placed just below the #3 to protect the move. Onsight fail. Oh well. After a few deep breathes I continued up the pitch, finding decent gear opportunities out of nowhere as I climbed higher. Looking up the remainder of the route at each stance, the gear options aren't obvious until you actually climb up and then the cracks seem to appear out of nowhere...and so did the holds. While there were a few places that gave me pause (often for 5-10 minutes at a time) I found myself making the incut hand traverse left into the next dihedral system with a pair of nice 5.6 cracks in a corner up a 25' slab. I had sewn up the pitch to this point, and quickly realized that I had used all but two draws on the lower part of the climb. I also only had small finger sized cams left on my harness. I would have to get gear in the finger crack. At this point, I got a little freaked out again and thought about buiding the belay on the nice ledge I was on, but knew that Ben would have chided me for doing so. I would just need to clip the rope directly to each cam and deal with a bit of rope drag. Not a huge deal in hindsight. I muscled my way up the dual 5.6 cracks and found myself at the top of the pitch. Not my best performance, but at least I kept climbing despite the fear that crept into my mind at various points en route. When it was all said and done, I hung on gear twice on the pitch, but didn't fall. When it was time to make moves, I made them.
After setting up a belay off two fixed pieces of gear at the base of the second 5.9 pitch of Over the Hill, I brought Ben up the pitch. When he arrived at the belay, we quickly re-racked our gear and Ben set off on the exciting 5.9 pitch above. The 5.9 crux comes at you fast. After climbing up through a typical Eldo "rotten band" to a solid stance, Ben wiggled in a tiny nut (and I mean tiny!) in a small seam. This little wire would be all that would prevent Ben from decking from about 15' onto the jagged, loose belay ledge I was now belaying him from. An ugly scenario. To backup this first micro-nut, Ben slotted another nut just above the small seam, and then added a small cam just above that. Given the nature of the protection in this section of the climb, 3 marginal pieces are better than one...and certainly none at all! After pulling the initial crux moves above these sketchy pieces, Ben flowed through the rest of the pitch...a stellar 5.8 finger crack up an awesome, nearly vertical face. Before I knew it, Ben had me on belay and was ready to bring me up.
I climbed up to the initial pro at the crux and couldn't believe how small and precarious the gear was. The micro-nut he placed first was a #2 BD rated to only 2kN...that's only about 450lbs of force. While placed well in the seam, a fall of even a couple feet onto that nut might have broken the cable. Then it would have been up to the other nut and cam above to keep him from serious injury. Upon closer inspection of the cam, I noticed that it only had 2 of its 4 lobes in contact with the rock. Sketchy! After cleaning the gear, I positioned myself for the thin, crimpy moves and cranked the crux to a good stance. The hardest part of the climb was over. While it definitely felt 5.9, it wasn't as hard as I expected it to be. The tiny edges for your feet made the moves doable, and quite honestly, is what keeps the climb at only 5.9. Remove those small foot edges and it's a 5.10 move. As I climbed the rest of the pitch, you couldn't wipe the smile off my face. Just unbelievable finger locks, great stances to place gear (albeit small gear), and face holds just where you need them, all on a striking face sitting 150' above the ground. This is one 5.9 I would love to work up the courage to lead in the future. Probably one of the best pitches of rock I have climbed in Eldo.
No really...there is nothing to see, May 29
Went to the Canal Zone in Clear Creek Canyon yesterday with a colleague from work named Sean and a buddy of his named Matt. We had just enough time to get in a few leads each before the crowds showed up...and they did. We started with a couple 5.8 climbs that I had not led before which was nice. I climbed well on the first 5.8 but had some difficulty on the second 5.8's start. The start remionded me of Wind Ridge in Eldo. I steep, bulging layback...a one-move wonder of a crux. I stepped up with confidence but then quickly realized that I was not positioned properly to make the layback move. After a couple attempts to right myself, I pumped out and had to weight the rope...at the first bolt! I was furious with myself, because up to this point, I was feeling pretty good about my strength and general technique. After figuring out the initial move, the rest of the pitch went easily.
Next we went down crag to a 5.10- route called the Gondolier Arete. Both Sean and Matt thought the route was more 5.9+ than 5.10-, but we're splitting hairs here. Since each if them had previously led the route, they gave me the sharp end. I started up the route and literally was able to clip the first 2 bolts from the same stance...talk about over-bolted! The climb ascents a clean arete to a bulge at the last bolt at the top of the route. I climbed pretty well up to the last bolt and that's when everything went south for me. I had the last bolt on the route clipped, at eye level, and I couldn't will myself to climb above that bolt into the 5.9+/5.10- crux. The worst that could happen would be a fall of maybe 5 feet. More likely, I would have climbed right through the crux and on to the chains with a great onsight under my belt. Instead, my mind sabotaged the effort...not even letting my strength and technique have a chance for success. Just when I think I'm making progress in one area of my climbing, I take huge steps backwards in other areas. It seems the constant in all these ups and downs is my brain, however.
Nothing to see here, May 24
I had hoped to get out climbing this past weekend (it was a gorgeous spring weekend), but alas, it just didn't work out. Climbing partners seem to be at a premium lately. While I'm not very motivated to search out another climbing partner, I don't want to start free-soloing just so I can climb. It has gotten to the point where I'm actually considering getting a used bouldering pad just so I can go climb when I have nobody to go with. Until then, I guess I'll just continue to workout on my home wall. While it can be a little boring, I feel I am getting stronger, if only slightly. I know it's still only May, but I already feel like the climbing season is slipping away. Silly, I know. To at least make myself feel like I'm climbing in some capacity, I took the kids out to Three Sisters Park for some practice. We worked a little bit more on lowering off climbs on toprope. Lena has been getting better with her fear as well, but she is still very tentative on the rock, which is to be expected I guess. She just doesn't want to hurt herself, so she doesn't try as hard as I know she could. When I say she doesn't want to "hurt herself" I don't mean breaking bones...I mean scraping a knee or elbow. It's funny, because when she actually does attempt to make moves, she seems to have an acute awareness of her body position. She instictively tries to get herself into a balanced position when she climbs, but she is very apprehensive when she must use her strength to pull on the holds. She just doesn't use her muscles...and she does have little muscles from all her swimming. I can relate to how she feels, however, so I don't push her too hard. Heck, I can't even get Evan to put on the rock shoes and he's a strong little guy.
Strength = Confidence, May 17
As I mentioned below, I worked out a bit more during the off-season, but certainly not as much as I would have liked. One basic thing I have been doing on my home wall is a lot of pull-ups. When I started doing them, I could only do about 2-3 at a time! I am now able to do 10 consecutive pull-ups with full arm extension, and then bust out 6-8 more immediately after. While I know this is a small achievement, it may be paying off on rock.
This past weekend, Ben and I went to Happy Hour Crag in Boulder Canyon. After seconding Nightcap, a nice 5.9, I felt that I could have climbed the route a bit more efficiently. Ben decided he would then lead Dementia, a fun 5.10a. Ben lead the pitch with confidence, placing good gear through the angling finger crack and corner. As he was cleaning his gear on rappel, he had some trouble extricating his #2 Mastercam out of the finger crack. I told him I would have a go at the route on TR and try to extract the stuck cam from the finger crack.
As I started up, I felt good in the lower section and even made some nice lieback moves to get setup in the angling finger crack and corner. This is where the business begins. As I climbed up into the finger crack, I realized that the route provided pretty decent knobs and positive smears for the left foot, but not much for the right foot. I would have to rely on good stemming and a bit of chimney technique to move through the initial cruxy sections. I got stumped at one of the first cruxy sections and hangdogged a bit to figure it out. On sequency cruxes, I still find that I set myself up wrong at times. This causes me to pump out and have to hang on the rope to regroup. Once I figured out the sequence of moves, I made the moves quickly and finally reached the stuck cam. After a few minutes of jockeying into position and hanging on slings, I was able to free the $60 cam from the crack. Ben was relieved, but it left me feeling a bit gassed from hanging out in the awkward corner. Ben encouraged me to continue to the top. Someone had to clean the anchor and he didn't seem to psyched to climb the route again on TR. It was at this point that I focused on good body position and making moves. The sequence of moves through the sustained crux were hard to decipher at first, but once I figured out the positioning, I found myself making solid moves out of the finger crack to the last cruxy bulge. I hangdogged for a few minutes to again figure out the sequence and shake out my arms. While the moves were a little tenuous, I was able to pull through the bulge and traverse out right to the anchors.
In hindsight, I was surpised how easily I was actually able to make the moves through the sustained crux. One thing that has always hindered me on 5.10 routes was my lack of strength to be able to pull down on small or slopey holds and jams on vertical to slightly overhanging/bulging terrain. I'm convinced that my performance on Dementia is a fine example of the pull-ups paying off. Sure, I hung on the rope a few times. But when it came time to climb, I did so confidently. The climb also reaffirmed the importance of footwork and trusting my feet when stemming and smearing on crystals. By adjusting the position of my feet by mere inches, I was able to set myself up to make moves that I might not have been able to make a year ago.
Climbing Season Begins!
As ski season officially winds down here in Colorado, it's time to shift my attention from frozen water molecules to vertical rock. As is typical with the start of each climbing season, I find myself out of climbing shape, but not quite to the degree that I have experienced in past seasons. I have been "working out" more on the home wall this winter, but I'm still lacking the core strength I need to tackle more difficult routes with confidence. Overall strength aside, one of the major factors that limits my performance on rock is the amazing attention my mind gives to irrational fears...the rope breaking, my belayer nodding off as I attempt a crux, bomber gear ripping out in a fall, etc. I've decided that in order to continue to pursue the innane act of climbing rocks, I must abandon these irrational fears and focus on climbing. That's not to say I shouldn't have awareness of rational fears such as the potential of hitting a ledge in a fall and breaking an ankle. It's the irrational stuff I need to purge from my mind when things get scary.
That said, I have decided to climb more sport routes to build strength and get comfortable leading routes at my limit...where falls are certainly possible, if not innevitable. To be honest, falling is not something I have a lot of experience with in climbing. Sure I've taken some very short falls on beefy trad gear. I've even taken a couple big falls on bolts. I just don't like to fall. After all, it's called "climbing", not "falling". This attitude limits me, though. By not putting myself in a position where I might fall, I am not pushing myself hard enough, and therefore, do not see improvement...either physically or mentally. Ultimately, it's the fear of falling (and not just falling, but hurting myself!) that limits me. If I'm afraid of the big fall on a route that is technically within my ability to climb on gear (5.9), I will never climb such routes on gear. Period.
Another factor that hinders my performance is my lack of trust in the gear. Because I don't have a lot of experience falling on gear, I don't fully trust that the widgets I place in the cracks are going to arrest my fall. And it's not just the small stuff that makes me nervous. Even a bomber #3 C4 can leave me feeling tense if the moves above are tenuous. Why? Again...irrational fear. I have to convince myself that a well-placed piece of gear just isn't going to fail. I also know that shit happens.
To be continued...