Acrohydrophobia

I decided I had enough.  I was roughly 70 feet above the deck, maybe another 20 feet shy of my partner belaying me off the GT ledge, but I wasn’t going any further.  A few moves below my current position the thought of wanting to come down entered my mind.  Not fearful of falling (I have complete trust in my partner and his skills) and not because I felt the climb was too difficult either.  All I did was look up.  I saw what looked like miles of vertical rock and a wide open sky and said to myself, “nah, I think I’ll pass”.  I wasn’t in a tailspin of hysterical panic; I just didn’t want to go any higher.

That was Pitch 1 of Easy-V (5.3), a popular beginner lead climb found on the Arrow Wall in The Gunks.  I lowered off not feeling defeated nor was my desire to climb deflated, but I felt like I needed a few minutes to get my head in the game.  Today is my second day on rock this year.  A few weeks back I’m top-roping 30 feet off the ground and today I’m looking at 100 foot plus climbs with exposure.  I’m trying to adjust my mental altimeter as well as differentiate irrational fear from mental discomfort.  My partners, John and Ryan, have just rapped back down and the rope is threaded through the bolted anchors just above the first pitch of Arrow, 5.8 (pitch 1 is rated around 5.6).  I waste no time in getting back on the rock and manage to work through my anxiety and climb.  I get through it, and I'm already feeling better. 

 

Easy V follows crack on right, Arrow route on rock face above the short tree on left

 

Our next climb was Northern Pillar.  Pitch 1 is more of a short scramble to a wide ledge just above a 50 ft. slab.  From there, Pitch 2 of the climb follows a well-protected face for about 75 feet until you come into a cave-like corner with a belay/rappel tree.  As I started up Pitch 2 I felt a little stab of fear but kept my focus on the rock in front of me instead of looking up.  About halfway up the discomfort made its way back into my mind and was battling with my ambition to finish the climb.  For strength, I thought of my Dad.  My Father died a little over 6 months ago after a long and cruel bout with cancer.  My Father had never been much of an athlete or outdoorsy kind of guy due to being raised in the city.  He also had physical limitations from being overweight.  I can’t say whether or not my Dad would have tried climbing if he was able to, but I’d like to think he is watching over me while I climb and proud of me for overcoming my fears.  So instead of stopping when I got nervous I would say to myself, “this is for you Dad” and make the next move to go higher.  I made it up a bit shaken, but at the same time genuinely happy to be climbing.  Despite my nerves I wanted to be doing this.  And the 50 ft. slab section below, a height I would be very comfortable with, contained several interesting climbs as well as an easy route I was considering leading. 

 

Following 2nd Pitch of Northern Pillar



John belaying from the top of Northern Pillar



But sadly, this was where our day ended.  On the drive up it had been pouring rain and the forecast was calling for showers throughout the day.  When John and I got to the Gunks the rain had stopped and the rock was dry.  After climbing Arrow we felt a few drops on our walk over to Northern Pillar.  And it was just as Ryan finished Pitch 2 did the rain begin falling again.  Rappelling down the face my shoes slid off the rock as if it were ice.  Ryan had said Gunks rock becomes extremely slippery when wet and we all agreed that climbing in these conditions is out of the question.  One thing I had been fearing leading up to this day (besides heights) was the chance it would be ruined by rain.  A few days prior, the forecast was calling for sunshine and all three of us had confirmed the day would be a go.  But the day before the chance of rain had increased from 10 to 50 percent and all we could do was hope to spared or that it would only be a slight passing shower.      

 

Rappelling off of Northern Pillar as the rain falls



One of the reasons I decided to try rock climbing a few years ago was because of my fear of heights and wanting to conquer that fear.  Along with the physical demands of climbing rock, there’s also the technical aspect of safety and if you throw in a fear of heights you got yourself quite a cocktail of challenges to overcome.  Fear is ok.  Fear keeps you modest.  But when fear turns to panic and panic becomes a distraction your performance is affected.  And in climbing performance is not just about climbing, it’s also about safety.  I know my limitations and have no desire to push myself in situations where I could compromise my safety.  However, in order to grow as a climber, and a person you do need to face your fears and find the strength overcome them.  While I haven’t quite defeated my fear of heights (and I may never get over heights) I decided not to let my emotions inhibit me.  And I learned that for next time I all I got to do is a say a little prayer, keep calm, and climb on.           

Initiated

I was hangdogging. 

Both of my feet smeared in narrow stem stance, my knees were dropped inward and my back was arched to avoid the bulge of rock in my face.  My right hand stretched out on a slopping hold that was just barely keeping my body from peeling off of the wall while my left hand was reaching up for a small incut just a few inches from my fingertips.  I worked my left foot up and dropped my knee further to gain some height, knowing that even if I got to the hold I probably couldn’t pull myself up on it.  I managed to reach it, called for my partner to pull in the slack, and hung.  This was second attempt at this route, its long and reachy moves on a steep face with very few positive holds and almost no feet was kicking my ass.   A few more starts and pauses and I had managed to clear the crux start.  The pump from climbing like poison in my forearms, my fingers felt shredded and cold. 

I missed rock climbing.  I missed the smell of stone and dirt.  I missed being outside without having to wear two jackets and swap gloves between climbs and belays.  I missed the warmth of the sun.  I missed working up an honest sweat and having a breeze cool me off.  I missed the feeling of rock, its unforgiving hardness and gritty texture.  I missed looking up at a route and imagining sequences and positions.  It had been a long four months of winter.  Ice Climbing is a definitely something I enjoy.  Gym Climbing, eh…not so much.  My true love of climbing has and always will be on good old honest rock.

Along with it being my first time out this year, it was also my friend Laurie’s first time climbing outside.  I had brought Laurie along with me on my unsuccessful attempt to climb the New Year Wall a few months back, so I had been carrying around this burden of guilt to get this girl a chance to climb.  We had a short day, only climbing a couple of routes at The Bullet Crag.  But given the challenging nature of these boulder-like Toprope climbs, we managed to have a decent day in terms of physical exertion.  Temps were in the low 60s and the sun was shining bright.  It was a bit chilly when we started as we were shaded from the sun (and the rock was very cold at first) but by the time we left around 2pm the sun was high and hot and I had managed to work up a good sweat on the uphill trail heading back to the car enjoying that good feeling of honest worn out tiredness you can really only get from hiking and climbing on a warm sunny day.    

 

Welcome back gnarly knuckles!

 

Circuits

"Toprope. I keep writing this, but I do not think it's possible to have much understanding of ice until you have done at least 150 pitches of it. I didn't learn this way, and I shudder to think of how many times I came close to maiming myself. I only truly learned to climb ice when I ran hundreds of laps on Toprope while training for ice climbing competitions.” – Will Gadd, from the Gravsports’ post titled “How Not to Suck”.   

On Monday I had a chance to climb at Asbestos Wall.  And don’t let its name suggest that this is some sort of toxic dump because it’s actually a great place to climb.  The cliff is roadside, with parking, and all the climbs are walk-up accessible.  It does have a negative side, given that it’s so user-friendly it can be very crowded.  And the cliff also faces south, so it’s hard for the ice to form let alone remain standing.  For this day I met up with a new partner, Vivek, who is very solid and has a few more years than me of ice climbing experience.  But given that it would be our first day together we chose Asbestos Wall to keep the approaching and rope-rigging aspects minimal.  Temperatures were just below freezing so even though the ice was “in” it was still very soft and sometimes wet.  A lot of the formations were thin curtains, just a day or two of freezing weather short of becoming strong enough to support a climber’s weight.  Not wanting to destroy these still-forming lines, we spent our day running laps on a 50-foot wide “frozen waterfall” section of solid ice.  We set up our first Toprope on the far right, climbed it up and down, and then stretched the line left using screws and quickdraws as “directional” pieces to free up more of the wall.  Eventually, we stretched it enough that we had to set up another Toprope on the left side, which we continued to run up and down until exhaustion.  Assuming the height of the wall was at the very least 30 feet, it’s safe to say that Vivek and I climbed close to 300 feet each in a matter of 4 hours (WI2+/3-).

Hiking, approaching, and rope-rigging are all things that are very time consuming. Even with experienced local guides, climbing only 4 routes in a day is usually the norm.  Granted you’re given more variety and the ability to access quality routes.  But most of the time I end up “following” the guide up a route (they are looking down on me, belaying from the top) so they don’t have a chance to really look at and critique my technique as I climb.  Although Vivek and I didn’t have a lot of variety, we were able to make up for it in terms of repetitions and training.  Given he was belaying me from the ground he had a chance to coach me on my footwork as I climbed (footwork is probably the weakest aspect of my ice climbing game).  I learned to flex my ankle to keep my foot straight when kicking the ice, as well as sitting down more which allows me to hang relaxed on my tools and let my weight rest on my feet.  And I am also getting more used to positioning my body as a triangle (hands/tools at about chest-width apart, feet out wider) which gives me a better base.  The mileage and advice for that day really made a difference as I found that I didn’t need to rest on the rope and my feet slipped a lot less.  I definitely feel like WI4 is now attainable and would like to put myself to the test next time I head out.       

One other thing to mention are the tools I used and the difference they can make.  I have a CassinX-Alp Ice Axes.  They’re pretty basic tools with a modest curve in the shaft and a heavy swing.  Good for a beginner on easy terrain.  I like these tools, and have no complaints.  Vivek had rented tools from Rock and Snow in New Paltz and chose the Petzl Nomic.  I had sampled these tools a few weeks back, climbing with my wife in Stony Clove.  They felt like million dollar tools then, and when I used them yesterday towards the end of the day, they felt like billion dollar tools.  There’s a saying that Nomics make you climb a grade better, and I really think that there’s some truth to that.  I feel the curve and weight are perfect.  They don’t require a hard swing which really saves a lot of energy.  With nothing more than a few light taps, the picks just stick and they hold. These tools are light, they feel incredible, and somehow seem to do all the work themselves.  My ice season is about to close but I am sure that I will own a pair of these tools by next year.     

 

Far Right Side

Center

Left Side

Unclimbed Wall to our right (top section was very weak)

 Top section of Unclimbed Wall to our right, note the hanging "curtain" of ice

 

Running to Squamish

My wife has become quite the ambitious runner.  She has her first 5K race coming up in March and has already been plotting her next challenge.  Not satisfied with low-mileage runs, she has just signed up for a Half-Marathon scheduled for August of this year.  As of today, February 1st, she has 189 days to prepare for this race which happens to be a few days after her 32nd birthday.  I am very proud of my wife for committing herself to this challenge.  She has literally taken to running full-speed.  As a former US Army soldier, I am no stranger to beating my feet.  These days, I'm a very modest runner putting down 2+ miles, two to three times a week.  My wife will eventually do an entire week's worth of my current running, and then some, in a day.  She literally started at zero about two months ago and is already up to 2.5 miles per run and rapidly improving her pace and distance.  I am so impressed and so inspired by this beautiful, amazing woman that I married. 

So, what does this have to do with Squamish?  Well first, for the unintroducted, Squamish is a world-class climbing destination.  Probably the premiere climbing location in all of Canada.  I know very little about this place but from what I've read, seen, and heard, I can say for certain that I will not be disappointed. 

When I found out my wife wanted to go to Vancouver to do this half-marathon I immediately gave her my support.  For one, I want to stand by her.  Two, visiting Vancouver ain't a bad thing.  Three, I assumed that there would be some worthwhile climbing nearby.  And when I found out Squamish is just a short drive from the city, I nearly fell out of my chair.  This is going to be a fantastic trip.  My wife gets her day to run (I will be waiting for her at the finish line with our Son).  I get the chance to climb one of the most amazing rocks in the world (while my wife and son explore the Provincial Park).  And we get to enjoy the city of Vancouver.

Stawamus Chief

              

Plush

For anyone whose activities are conducted outdoors it’s a blessing and a curse relying on, and being at the mercy of, nature and the elements.  There’s nothing like spending a day basking in the warm sun or even being comfortably chilled in the peaceful serenity of a natural landscape, far removed from the hustle and bustle of the work week and the mindless distractions of our ever expanding digital world.  The curses are days like my entry “Forlorn Desperation” where soaking rain turns rock into a dangerous waterslide.  Or when I have to relentlessly check and recheck weather forecasts hoping for a succession of cold days to form climbable ice.  As long as I can get out, I’ll manage and I try my best not to complain even on oppressively hot/humid days as well as the brutally cold ones.  But rain, or lack of winter, can and will shut down rock and ice climbing and there’s really nothing to be done about it (except for maybe gym climb). 

Reflecting over this, I can’t help but hear Scott Weiland singing Stone Temple Pilot’s classic “Plush” where he says, “…and I feel so much depends on the weather”.  We’ve been blessed recently with a stretch of frigid weather and I had been hopeful that a bit of ice would form at a nearby crag on a grungy, wet, more or less featureless wall of chossy rock usually too soggy or vegetated to climb during the regular season.  As it turns out, I was right and would have a chance to sample a bit of rare Jersey Ice less than 30 minutes from my doorstep instead of having to make the two and half hour drive north to the Catskills.

The most obvious climbable formation was a gorgeous 30 foot ice pillar that despite its modest height would attract almost any ice addict with its aesthetic properties.  The pillar is wide enough for two variations; the right side goes at about WI2+ (mostly vertical ice, with foot rests near the top), and the center felt like it was WI3- (sustained vertical ice).  There was a third variation to the left (mixed, with lots of stemming) but the overhanging curtain looked a bit too weak the line itself seemed very easy and even a bit contrived.  I ran laps up and down this ice for nearly 90 minutes until my arms could barely swing, it was fantastic!  This wall is over 200 feet long but due to its poor characteristics only has two established rock climbs and there are no documented ice climbs.  Not sure if this is a first ascent, but I’m going to call this route Plush (WI2+/3-).

 

Plush



I should note that my wife had joined me to climb but had unfortunately ended up being my belay slave.  We thought that she’d be able to use my boots and crampons but it turns out my size 9 boots are 3 sizes too big for her (she would be a size 6, Men’s).  We were optimistic it would work, and she even wore extra socks, but the boots were just too wobbly on her as she tried to kick into the ice.  I give her a lot of credit for shrugging it off and willing to hang out and belay me for a little while (love you, babe!).  I recently ordered a second pair of crampons, Petzl Lynx, and will look into getting her a pair of Mountaineering Boots.

 

It didn’t too long for me to exhaust myself and we were home in time for lunch.  And I was able to return her the favor and look after our son so she would have the time to go on a 2-mile run that afternoon (she has been training for her first 5k race which less than 6 weeks from now).  I am very proud of her commitment to what she calls “her running start towards self-discovery” and am very thankful that she was such a good sport with letting me enjoy a quick ice session. 

 

 

SEND!

 

 

Devil’s Kitchen Froze Over

On Wednesday, January 23 temperatures in the Catskills hovered in the single digits.  The winter so many of us had been chasing for so long had finally arrived, and was now chasing after us.  My partner for the day is veteran climber and 2012 AMGA President’s Award recipient Joe Vitti.  The two of us braved the numbing cold and the steel-tempered ice in effort to embrace full-on-winter ice climbing on a day that for me, the conditions had been at their harshest.  This would be my sixth time ice climbing (half of my ice climbing experiences were in the month of January 2013).  Quite a difference from my rock climbing; I have spent somewhere around 50 days climbing outside and likely an equal amount of days climbing indoors.

Our day began in Devil’s Kitchen, located in Platte Cove.  Joe and I rappelled into the gully right above Stairway to Heaven (WI3-4).  The pillar on the lower section of this route was very narrow and made for difficult climbing, even when I used the rock wall nearby for footing.  The ice was iron hard, and refused to yield to my axes.  I would pound the ice only to have it break into pieces.  Getting good “sticks” was tough, and by the time I had topped the pillar I was completely pumped with another 30 feet of climbing left.  The upper section was in the sun and much softer but the ice was dripping and my face was getting splashed with freezing cold water.  Stairway was a very, very tough climb to start the day with but once I finished and lowered I had at least warmed up quite a bit from the effort.      

 

Stairway to Heaven

 

Joe and I moved into the lower section of Devil’s Kitchen by traversing over the top of the left side so we could again rappel down a route from the top.  The next route, appropriately named Third Corner (WI4-), is part of a series of corner facing climbs along the left wall (left side, facing down into the gully).  The wall includes the mega classic Catskills moderate, Purgatory (M5, WI5-).  Third Corner felt more even and sustained then bottom-heavy Stairway, but the ice was just as dense and difficult to stick without having it shatter.  On my first attempt I was exhausted just past the halfway point and came down for a rest.  As I was being lowered, I heard voices coming from around the corner and saw that one of them was Ryan Stefiuk.  I watched Ryan cruise up Purgatory on lead, completely amazed by his athleticism and poise.  Refreshed by the spectacle, I finished Third Corner on my second go, but had to stop a few feet from the top as the ice was barley coating the blank rock wall.  Most of the remaining climbs in Devil’s Kitchen were in the WI4 range so Joe suggested we go to another location, as I was struggling with that grade.  I feel like WI4 is where I should be climbing comfortably by season’s end with a little more practice (WI5 is considered “moderate”).  I’m not completely flailing, or failing at that grade, but it’s definitely challenging and takes a lot of energy.  Again, I have to remind myself ice climbing is not rock climbing and I’m still new at it and have quite a lot to learn.

 

Third Corner

Exit, going "up" out of Devil's Kitchen (wall I climbed is on right)

 

A short drive from Platte Cove to Moore’s Bridge in Kaaterskill Clove allowed us to briefly warm up before trudging up the road to climb The Gully (WI2-3).  The Gully is a long climb with several tiers before it becomes more sustained-vertical towards the top (top is definitely WI3).  Joe lead and I followed cleaning gear.  This climb was definitely more within my abilities but it was the end of a very cold, very long, and very difficult day and I found myself utterly exhausted as I closed in the last few feet that remained of the climb.  Joe graciously lowered me off so I wouldn’t have to set up a rappel and I immediately began packing up my gear once I reached the ground.  I was physically spent, absolutely chilled to the bone, and weary of my two and half hour drive to get back home.  Despite being beat down by the weather and getting my ass kicked on the ice, I had a really good day and felt that by challenging myself on these harder routes I’ve gained more experience than I would have by playing it safe on easier routes.  Joe and I said goodbye and I left with a feeling that I’m chipping away at this inexplicable goal I have with regards to my climbing…be it to become a better climber, a more experienced climber, or just well-traveled climber who has had his share of days, all varying in different degrees.  Coming back to my house and seeing my wife, my son, and my two dogs can pretty much make any day, regardless of how it’s spent, a good one.         

 

The Gully

Entering sustained WI3 climbing on The Gully

Relieved to be approaching the final few feet of climbing
 

    

Th(in)

Ice is a capricious medium.  Even when it’s “In”, it still plays host to a variety of unpredictable factors.  And when it’s “Thin” and just barely climbable, it becomes even more volatile as its bond to the rock and physical structure may not support a climber’s weight and could easily break apart or completely detach from the wall.  Conditions in the Catskills over the Martin Luther King Holiday weekend were severely compromised after several unseasonably warm days.  My wife and I had booked an overnight getaway in nearby Saugerties (Diamond Mills – fantastic hotel and restaurant).  After arriving on Saturday we hiked to the summit of Overlook Mountain and managed to stay very warm in soft-shell jackets over light baselayers, often hiking without our jackets on.  We had planned to climb Sunday but with the warm temperatures and a warning that the ice wasn’t climbable, we were very unsure we could make it happen.  But we made the trip and were determined to have a go at it.  I called a local guide service and spoke with a guide who confirmed there was barely anything to climb.  However, he said he could probably find us some ice…albeit thin, short and likely at a seldom visited, lesser-quality cragging area than an established location.  And on that balmy Sunday morning, we lucked out.       

I scheduled a half-day of climbing to accommodate my wife.  She has ice climbed before, and was actually very excited to go.  But a shorter day is much easier on her and we were both eager to get back to our 14-month old son, who we had left in the care of his Grandparents the day before.  Our guide, Alan Kline (super cool guy) met us a few miles from Hunter Mountain at Maggie’sKrooked Café (awesome place).  Earlier, he took a ride out to Stony Clove and said that there was some ice behind the lake area that may be worth checking out.  A short hike through talus and boulders led to a series of rock outcrops and short cliffs.  Some of the rock had a little bit of ice, but most were completely without.  Situation wasn’t looking good, but Alan led us along.  And I have to say, I was pretty damn amazed when he found us two small walls with climbable th(in) ice.

 

The day was perfect for my wife.  The ice was soft; a waxy plastic texture that swallowed picks and points.  The first wall we came to was divided by a ledge into two sections; the lower section was less than 20 feet and the upper section maybe just over 10 feet.  The climbing was challenging enough without being too easy, and the short sections and rest ledge helped made it attainable for my wife to have several climbs.  And after a few tries she figured it out and was getting solid sticks, working her crampons to get into good stances, and moving with real proficiency.  Me?  I was cruising.  I had a couple of slips and needed rests to shake out my arms, but for me this was all fun. 

Given the ice was so thin and the rock was peeking through, Alan suggested I try a mixed-line on the far left side of the face.  The lower section was a very thin veil of ice…all light taps and delicate steps.  The upper section was mostly exposed rock with the last few feet having a light coating of ice.  I made it through the lower section rather quickly but the top would be a mixed-climbing “boulder problem” that I found to be extremely physical. I worked myself into a huge horizontal gap (at least two feet high) that created a roof-exit type of scenario onto overhanging terrain.  I put my entire light leg into the gap and gently placed the front points of my right crampon on a weak curtain of ice.  I managed to get up a step just as the curtain broke off but it revealed small steps just big enough to get the tips of my points on and I inched my way up into a comfortable stance. I was able to get my right tool was in a good ice placement and I worked my left tool until I had it torqued sideways in a horizontal crack.  Moving up to the next move would be difficult but it was likely the second-before-the last set of moves before I would top out.  I gripped my left tool (in the rock) and stood up on my toes to get my right tool higher.  But as I did this my left tool popped out and the hammer side smashed into my upper lip.  Stunned, I had to be lowered off.  There was a cut in my moustache and inside of my lip was swollen, but I wasn’t injured.  My first experience with dry tooling was definitely interesting.  Alan told me the section I was climbing was pretty burly and that it was a proud attempt, and my wife seemed impressed by the effort.                 

We had climbed the wall from left to right (3 ice lines, 1 mixed line) and decided to move on to another wall we had passed earlier in the day.  By then it was around 12pm and temps were nearly in the 50s.  We attempted to climb a pillar formation but as I started up, ice began breaking off with every tool swing and my boots were swimming in slush.  Then a big piece of ice came off and hit my already tender face and we pretty much knew then that the pillar would not stand if we climbed it.  Our half day was about to end anyway, so nobody was complaining…in fact, we boasted of how lucky we were that day to find climbable ice that we had all to ourselves.  The parking lot at Stony Clove was full of cars, and all day were heard the crashing of ice falling off the walls off the East and West Sides…must have been a miserable day for a lot of people.  I am very thankful for my resourceful guide, very thankful for the luck we had, very thankful to not have suffered anything more than a superficial wound, and very thankful that my wife enjoyed herself on a memorable climbing day.     

 

Happy Couple!

Wifey getting ready to send!

 

Lower Section

Upper Section

Topped Out

Mixed Sequence

Busted

By the end of the day the Ice was falling apart