Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Porters and Caddies

The other day, while climbing Mt. Minsi, I was carrying a heavy pack.  I brought along a full trad rack (which I climbed with) – doubled cams and two single larger cams (total cams, 14), a full set of stoppers (10 total), doubled pink and red tricams, 10 alpine draws, 4 extra locking carabineers, a 20ft x 7mm cordellete, and my belay/rappel set up which includes an ATC, prusik, and an extra-long sling, all with their own locking carabineers.  In addition to that, within my pack were my shoes, helmet, harness, 70m climbing rope, extra slings and cordage, and two large bottles of water.  My pack was nearly full and at 40 liters (2440 cubic inches) and that’s a pretty decent sized climbing pack.  The heaviest objects were the water bottles, and since it was a hot day I was carrying double what I would for a regular day (I always drink a bottle before and have one for after in the car).  Not sure what the exact weight was but it was well over 30 pounds, easily approaching 40.  And I’ve carried this kind of weight before to go climbing; it’s nothing out of the ordinary. 

To reach the cliffs on Mt. Minsi, you hike up a steep talus slope.  The hike itself is only about 10 minutes, but that’s without stopping.  Try walking up stairs, without stopping, for ten minutes.  Try walking up stairs for ten minutes, without stopping, with 30+ pounds on your back.  Try walking up hill made of boulders and rock, some that move, for ten minutes with 30+ pounds on your back in the sun, 85 degree weather and high humidity without stopping.  See how the progression works?  Most of the time (but not always) when I go climbing there’s a strenuous and usually uphill 10-20 minutes hike.  But personally, I feel that the downhill hike back is always harder.     

My point is that in climbing, you got to hump your own gear. 

The other day I was at the train station on my way home from work.  To get to my train’s platform there’s a stairwell and an escalator.  I always take the stairs.  The escalator wasn’t functioning, and there was a slow shuffle of bodies trudging up the stairs.  A saw a woman, late 30’s or early 40’s, and she had a very large bag.  She was just standing there with a confused look on her face and I asked her if she needed a hand with the bag.  It turned out she was carrying Golf Clubs.  The bag was large, but it couldn’t have been more than 20 pounds and had a padded shoulder strap.  I easily carried it up the stairs for her, along with my own commuter bag that is surprisingly close to ten pounds. 

Now, I love to pick on Golf.  I’ve been to the driving range and putting green before, and I realize it takes practice and skill to hit the ball.  But Golf is NOT a sport.  There’s actually a Supreme Court ruling that states one doesn’t have to walk from one hole to the next in order to participate in the PGA Tournament.  You can simply take a ride in a cart.  Couple that with the fact that most golfers (definitely the pros) have caddies who carry their clubs I’d say Golf is nothing more than an outdoor game.  

Mountaineering is climbing’s close relative.  What I call “climbing” is near vertical, class 5 (hence all the 5. ratings) roped climbing.  Mountaineering may include rock, ice, and snow climbing as well as scrambling and walking.  When you think of Mountaineering, you can think of Everest.  Mountaineering has its version of Golf’s caddy, the porter.  None more famous than the Sherpa, a Himalayan People who are physiological adapted to living at high altitudes.  Sherpa often accompany well-financed climbing parties on Everest, and other high peaks, carrying supplemental oxygen and equipment, and often pre-place safety equipment at their own peril, to facilitate climbers.  Outside Magazine recently penned an article about the sad fate many of these people suffer while doing the majority of the dangerous, technical, and laborious work that allows wealthy novices to ascend some of the world’s highest peaks with little or no experience as mountaineers or climbers.  Personally, I have no desire to go where I can’t bring myself to by my own will.  Every inch I’ve ever climbed, whether following or leading, has been due to my own effort.  And if I’m not leading and placing the gear, I’m cleaning it and racking it on my harness as I second. 

One could argue that climbing isn’t a sport, and I would agree.  While there is “sport” climbing which is loosely defined as clipping bolts (vs. using traditional protection) as well as sport climbing competition and indoor wall climbing.  I see and define climbing as a discipline, more akin to martial arts.  Climbing can be competitive, as can Golf, but the competition is the course, or route.  Competing against another participant is secondary, and only in terms of performance comparison.  Most, but not all “sports” are direct individual or team contests that involve back and forth offensive scoring against an opponent's defense.  But I digress into another topic.

Carrying my heavy climbing pack, on my own, for a day of physically demanding activity only to have to help carry a Golfer’s light bag, meant for a leisurely paced activity done on the comfort of a groomed course with carts, restrooms, and likely an air-conditioned club house that has a bar and grill, really got my wheels spinning in terms of things I place a great amount of importance on.  Health, Strength, Mobility, and overall Fitness.  

Being healthy is health insurance.  Catching a cold or getting a stomach bug is just my body fighting off foreign germs.  Eating good foods is my every day medicine.  Taking care of my body is waht will ensure its longevity, thus I am my own insurance provider.  Strength is the ability to exert force on an object.  Lifting weights is nothing more than that.  People have skewed misconceptions about those of us who pick up the heavy weights in the gym.  I train my body for function.  I squat, deadlift, and press…all functional movements that the human body was designed for.  Squatting is sitting, deadlifting is picking up an object from the ground, and pressing is putting an object over your head.  Mobility is everything.  People end up in nursing homes when they’re not able to get around on their own.  Take away a person’s mobility, you take away their life.  And finally, there's fitness.  I don’t have a definition for fitness but understand it along the lines of having a strong and functional body and mind that is ready and able to serve a purpose.

When we stop challenging our bodies to perform under stress they weaken.  We don’t need to grind ourselves to the bone every day with grueling exercise regimens.  However, we do need to ensure that we are capable of functioning as we were designed to.  And if one lacks the ability to carry a 20-pound bag of lightweight Golf Clubs, then maybe one should consider skipping the driving and putting (carting and caddying) for a little bit of 20-pound calisthenics. 

Monday, July 22, 2013

Acclimating

Most of the country, and without a doubt the North East, has suffered the past few weeks through a brutal heat wave.  Last week temperatures were in the mid-90’s and with the radiant sun and humidity the heat index reached the 100 degrees mark.  Power companies reported record usage last Friday when the heat index was a scorching 107 degrees.  To cope with the heat that day, I went for a run.  Yes, you read that correctly…I ran, two miles, in the 107 degree heat.  Why?  Simply in order to acclimate.  The body adapts to stress, and the intense heat is definitely a stress for many people especially those who spend the majority of their day shielded from the elements in the air conditioning.  I’m not advocating prolonged periods of high-intensity work or exercise in these conditions, but it is important to expose yourself throughout the day to the heat in order to better prepare yourself physiologically. Humans are well-adapted to the heat with our ability to sweat.  Hydrate, sweat, cool down, and repeat.  I attended Basic Combat Training in South Carolina, arriving in August.  A few days into boot camp I found myself in the hospital after suffering a heat stroke with an IV in my arm, not remember how I got there.  But not long after my daily regiment was hard work, training, and of course punishment in the hot southern summer sun.  I adapted, hydrated, worked, rested, and continued.  It’s called acclimating. 

On Sunday, I partnered up with PA local Larry S. to do some climbing at the Delaware Water Gap, this time on the Mount Minsi (PA) side which had been seasonally closed up until recently due to nesting raptors.  Larry and I met at The Gap last year and I have been in touch for a while sharing stories and beta, but this was our first time climbing together.  I would put Larry in the above-average category in terms of climbing strength and skill.  Yesterday’s temperature was mercifully cooler in the upper 80s and the humidity wasn’t too unbearable, but it was still hot!  The hike up the talus field of Mt. Minsi is short but very strenuous, easily soaking my bandana and shirt with sweat.  And the section we were climbing, the Teardrop Buttress, was facing the southern sun.  Thankfully we got some scattered cloud covering but at times we were in direct sun and climbing on hot rock.    

I repeated Teardrop Buttress, 5.3 G (it’s the name of that section of rock as well as a route) leading a short section, maybe 30 feet.  I had lead the lower part of this route before with Barry Rusnock latein 2012.  I haven’t been on the sharp end in some time, so a quick ascent on easy terrain to a somewhat comfortable belay with adequate protection was just enough to satisfy me.  Larry took over on Pitch 2 and pulled the crux bulge which Barry and I avoided by going right.  While following, I found that section to be about 5.8 difficult but it does take gear.  Not sure if I would lead through it myself, but I cleared it on top-rope. 

From the top of Teardrop Buttress the rappel line is between Tears Are Falling, 5.5 PG-13 and a gulley that forms the Minsi Curtain (ice).  I’ve wanted to climb Tears Are Falling, it’s a long somewhat slabby climb, but protection looks sparse and the upper section is rotten and broken rock.  I asked Larry if he wanted to drop a top-rope line on it but he said he would go ahead and lead it.  Protection was a little better than expected, but definitely PG-13.  A little more than halfway up the route is a ceiling and the guidebook says to move left to avoid the ceiling and carefully top-out through the open bowl section of rotten and loose rock.  Larry chose to climb through the ceiling and continue right, instead of left, through a thin slabby section before linking up with the upper arĂȘte of Teardrop Buttress about ten feet before the top out.  The ceiling is a bit reachy, but doable.  It’s about 10-15 long so there are a few options to climb through.  I found the face climbing above to be a bit thin and came to a crux just past some bushes I had pruned (yes, we carry pruners at The Gap). 
 
Larry putting in protection in the ceiling. Bushes to the right were pruned on my ascent.
 
Now, this is normally (well, more like recently) where I panic.  I’m more 100 feet off the ground, climbing an exposed cliff face overlooking several hundred feet, on thin holds, weakened and exhausted from the effort and heat, and about to make a difficult move.  But I was able to corral my fear this time.  I think I had built confidence earlier that day by leading (albeit a short lead) and climbing on familiar terrain.  In other words, I acclimated.  I mentally warmed-up and put myself in the zone for climbing.  From there I was able to focus on the moment, relax, think clearly and just keep my eyes on my hands and feet and concentrate on where they were going next.
 
Happy Climber!
 
Just before topping out Larry suggested I climb straight through another bulge, just to add a bit more difficulty.  I could have stepped to the right and avoided it but instead I smiled and went for the harder moves instead.    
 
View of the Delaware River from the top of Teardrop Buttress
 

Monday, July 1, 2013

Bad Boys


How I found Andrew is a long story.  But to make that long story short, let’s just say his involvement with a certain New Jersey access-sensitive climbing area got my attention.  And when I reached out to him to discuss I found out that we are practically neighbors, living just a few miles from each other.   


June 2013 set the record for rainfall in New Jersey.  Following my last post, and climb, I was determined to find the time to do some climbing in an effort to begin my return to form.  Blame it on the rain as well as the usual scheduling conflicts, Andrew and I were having a hard time meeting up.  I was on vacation the last week of June and completely disconnected myself from my cell phone, Facebook, and the internet.  Upon my return, I had several emails from Andrew who was trying to meet up (despite the record rainfall, the days of my vacation were sunny and bright).  I told Andrew we would definitely without a doubt climb on Sunday, and if it rained we would gym climb.


A little bit more about Andrew…he’s a lot like me in terms of wanting to take advantage of all the climbing NJ has to offer.  There’s not much in this overcrowded and over-developed state, but that’s not to say there’s nothing to climb.  In fact, there are several climbing gems but in an overcrowded and over-developed state like NJ there are liability laws, property lines, and plenty of folks who view climbers as trespassers and potential lawsuits.  Andrew has either been to, or knows of, many of these forbidden locations.  I personally have only been to a couple, but definitely know of the majority of Jersey’s legal, illegal, and questionable climbing locations.  Neither one of us encourage breaking the law and trespassing on private property or putting access-sensitive climbing areas at risk.  But for those places where there aren’t any obvious signs that clearly state “no trespassing” or “no climbing” if one chooses to go in stealthily, climb quietly, and leave without a trace…then I say go for it. 
 

This past Sunday the humidity was at brutal 98% but Andrew and I got a 7am start at a local access-questionable climbing area that is currently under a heavy curtain of summer leaves, protecting the cliff and active climbers from view.  The cliff is just over 30 feet tall with about a dozen routes, mostly in the 5.8 - 5.10+ range.  The climbing is pumpy and strenuous as the rock is slightly overhanging and the holds are mostly rounded so it’s very difficult to get a positive grip.  There is a second cliff a few hundred yards away but this time of year it is very wet and mossy (I climbed an ice route here earlier this year).  I was surprised that someone as well-traveled as Andrew had never visited this cliff; it’s less than 30 minutes from where we live!  Andrew was very impressed with the challenging climbing and like me, will use this area as an “outdoor gym” to train on its physically challenging routes.       


After a few hours of climbing, pulling, falling, hanging, and sweating, both of us were exhausted and left satisfied with our morning’s efforts.  The two of us will definitely be climbing together and are already discussing plans for the coming weeks to visit the particular area he is involved with (his involvement includes route cleaning, trail maintenance, as well as an open-discussion with the land-owner who has allowed that the area be under a temporary “climbing assessment”). 


For me it was exactly the kind of day I needed to rekindle my love for climbing.  I was physically challenged, socially engaged, and didn’t have to battle with my fear of heights (climbing 30 feet off the ground).  Summer is definitely the slow time of year for climbing but I’m going to continue to make time when possible and focus on finding enjoyment in this thing I do.