Making The Most of a Chill Day

I’ve been eager to climb Buttermilk Ravine.  But this past Friday, temperatures in the Catskills started in the single digits and only peaked in the teens.  Combined with falling snow and wind, I figured climbing the north-facing Ravine could easily turn out to be a frigid suffer-fest.  But, ice conditions throughout the region are nearly at their peak and the south-facing sunnier crags are in optimal shape.  The deep snow, bright sun, and cold nights keeps the freeze-thaw cycle in these areas going strong, constantly adding new ice and filling in kicked-out sections.

I decided to head up to The Playground at Stony Clove’s East Side.  Almost 4 years ago, to the day, my first time ice climbing was at The Playground.  I remember the approach up the mountain being very treacherous with ice and exposed rock.  But this time, it was a deep snow-packed trail and what felt like an eternity years ago maybe took 10 minutes this time.  The Right Side (WI2), the beginner route, was being lead by another party so Doug and I went up a route in the middle and then set up another nearby.  Once the other party moved on, I lead the Right Side.  To think, four years ago I could barely scratch up this route on top-rope and here I am now, sending it with ease on the sharp end of the rope. 

 

The Playground Area

After leading Right Side of The Playground

 

Shortly after, my partner Doug and I traversed the cliff’s top to rappel down a mixed route which completely shut me down when I attempted it.  The start of the route was buried under deep snow, just getting to the base took several minutes of digging and wallowing.  Then, the lower ice was only a thin veneer over slab rock.  I made an attempt to climb a section of overhanging rock right of the ice, but a shoebox-size block nearly crashed on my head when I put my tools on it and so I decided I would try my luck on the thin ice instead.  I made some progress, but with my tools barely able to grab any ice in their serrations, I took a big swing (on top-rope) and crashed through a curtain of ice.  I decided I’d leave this one to Doug, who’s a way better climber than me, and yet even he had a difficult time with this beast.

You can see what's left of the curtain that I crashed through...

Between and rock and a hard place, Stony Clove's East Side.

 

Doug suggested that we finish up the day at Asbestos Wall.  This roadside crag is one of the most easily accessible areas in the Catskills, full of short 30-50 sections of ice.  Often packed with climbers when it’s “in”, we found only 2 other parties there and plenty of room to move about and choose.  This area receives direct sunlight, so it’s not always the best place to climb.  But again, with the amount of snow on the ground and the freeze-thaw cycle working day in and day out, the ice was fat.

I began with a short lead, an easy WI2.  Just like the Right Side route at The Playground, this is a route that is well beneath my climbing limit.  Every tool placement was something I knew I could hold onto for dear life, if need be.  Every step was kicked out to the point where I knew I stood on solid feet.  No mistakes, no falls.  30 feet of WI2 is NOT practice when you’re leading.  There are no safe/practice falls on lead.  On the sharp end, 30 feet or 300 feet, you are 100% committed to not falling.  I have a deep respect for danger and head thewords of those with skill and experience far beyond my own who repeat, vehemently,no falls while leading ice.

 

 

Easy Lead. Short, with plenty of rest in between sustained ice.



After that, Doug and I moved to a longer and steeper route, which Doug lead.  I felt the route was within my ability, but the steepest/crux of the route was high enough off the ground where I felt my nerves could possibly get the best of me so I decided I wouldn’t attempt to lead it myself.  The right-side variation of this route however did look possible.  I decided to do a “mock lead” on top-rope.  Doug would keep the rope loose enough where I couldn’t weigh or rest on it without falling, and I would place screws.  I was able to send it, without falling on top-rope; however I felt that the climbing was at my limit for leading.  This would be pushing it.  Doug told me that he was of the opinion I could do it.  He suggested I leave my screws in the ice and that way I wouldn’t have to place them on lead (called a “pinkpoint” vs. a “redpoint”.).  But, despite his vote of confidence and knowing I was able to send it cleanly on mock lead, I felt that I my fear of falling could possibly compromise my ability.  Again, being 100% confident is essential for leading and based on that principle I decided to pass on this one.   

Doug's Lead.

My Mock Lead.

 

But, that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to get one more lead in. 

Earlier, we passed a section that looked like it would be a good lead for me.  It was a sustained vertical start, which lead to easy walk-up terrain, and the final few feet before the top-out was just steep enough that I couldn’t just cruise through it.  The bottom was just over 10 feet of WI3+, which meant I would be hanging on tools to place a screw.  As expected, I was able to fire in a screw and get over this crux successfully but I definitely felt the urgency of doing so with balance and efficiency.  I say urgency in the respect that you can’t rush through this, but you really can’t take your time either.  Near the finish, I placed two screws because this was going to be one of those top outs where you had to scratch and crawl through the mud a bit (typical Catskills) and this itself is sometimes one of the most dangerous parts of climbing since you’re not as sure-footed on loose dirt and wet mud as you’d be on the ice.  Again, I was on easy terrain so I wasn’t pushing it, but this was definitely an honest lead with real challenges and danger.              

 

Doug at the base of the last route I lead.

 

Super Bowl

I had a lot going on over Super Bowl weekend but with careful planning was able to secure a few hours on Sunday to climb.  Usually, I get an early start.  I like to be out of the house by 7am, and back by lunch.  This past Sunday, I opted for a 9am start.  One of my partners, Cris, texted me at 7am, letting me know he was at our rendezvous spot.  Apparently, he didn’t get my message.  So, I spent the next two hours entertaining him in my living room while we waited for my other partner, John, who was coming from PA.  I explained to Cris in between sips of coffee while we watched a UFC event I recorded the night before (reason for my late start was I wanted to watch the fights in the morning) that John wasn’t crazy or poor, but he didn’t have proper ice boots and would be wearing ski boots.  John is a young college kid and he just started ice climbing this year.  He could count the pitches of ice he’s climbed on one hand.  He has axes, and he has crampons, but he hasn’t bought boots yet.  But, he assured me, that he used the ski boots before and they worked. 

I met John in November.  He’s a Gap regular and excellent trad climber.  He’s also into fly-fishing, so we’ve had the chance to hang out a few times.  And despite my initial apprehension, the ski boot-crampon thing actually worked.  Obviously, it’s not the most optimal set-up but I appreciate the kid’s willingness to go for it.  As I watched John on his 5^th, maybe 6^th pitch of ice, I  noticed that he has ability.  He’s green, but he moves well and doesn’t make a lot of the tell-tale mistakes you see novice ice climbers make (gets good sticks in the ice before moving, hangs on his tools properly).  After a few burns on Plush and the Corner Smear, I let him have a go at a pretty difficult ice/dry-tool route and the kid took to it like a natural.

 

Plush, in good shape.

Corner Smear, still kicking.

Far Right Mixed Route. Bottom hanger was especially fat and sturdy.

 

For me, it was just another day of training at the local crag.  We all got in a couple laps of ice on Plush and the Corner Smear, and then went for it on the ice/dry-tool route.  This was my second time climbing at the local crag this year, fifth day out climbing this winter.  Bringing new partners along helps with the monotony of climbing the same area, over and over.  I’m too grateful to ever say something like I’m getting bored and I enjoy climbing too much to really ever feel bored while I do it.  So I have a workman-like approach to this sort of climbing where I think more of the long-term benefit of all the repeated laps.

 

Yep, this kid is climbing ice in ski boots.

Cris, carefully scaling the hanger (in brand new boots).

Me, topping out on the hanger (I was the first one to climb it). The overhanging crack above is extremely physical.

 

In a few days, I plan on climbing another Catskill Ravine.  This means a long hike and lots of pitches.  I’m hoping to lead some of the easier stuff as well.  In preparation, outside of climbing, I’ve been hitting the weights and hang board.  I’ve been coming into work early to hit the stairs (today, I did 25 flights up and down) so I’ll have the legs and endurance for the hike in and out.  I know that winter will be over in a few more weeks and all the ice will gone for 10-11 months.  When it’s gone, I want to be satiated.  I want to know I climbed everything I could, and to the best of my ability.  This is my year to grow. 

Taking Lead In The Catskills

I’ve been going back and forth the past few days about what area in the Catskills I’m going to climb next. Doug and I discussed Buttermilk Ravine, and I was pretty set on going there until about a week ago when I got this itch to try some really hard ice.  My wife and I are going climbing together in the Catskills in February, with a guide, and I was thinking if I get some really hard laps under my belt I’d be good with leading short and easy stuff my day out with her. Doug let me know that I’d be climbing either with him, or Dustin.  The night before, I sent him a text asking about conditions and he let me know he was in the Devil’s Kitchen assisting with a nighttime photo-shoot.  He said the Kitchen was in great shape and that he’s staying there late to help out with the rigging, so he’ll need a rest day.  I went to his house in the morning to meet up with Dustin, and Doug encouraged us to head into Plate Cove (the Devil’s Kitchen is located in this area) since the ice there was super fat.

I’ve only been to the Kitchen once, and I’m certain as we hike in that we’re going in a different way than I went before. Instead of rappelling in from the Upper Kitchen, we descended a series of switchbacks and follow a creek until we were standing on a frozen pool of water and looking out across the canyon at Tiers of Joy (WI3-4). I was thinking, wow this looked pretty rad, while Dustin uncoiled a rope for us to rappel down. I’m still oblivious to where we are at this point, and as I’m rappelling I’m expecting to see rock or some marginal ice. But as I look to my left there’s a roaring waterfall gushing under and over cascading ice. And directly in front of and all around me is fat ice. It’s not until I touch down that Dustin tells me this is Bride Veil Falls (WI3). 

Looking at Tiers of Joy (WI4) from the top of Bride Veil Falls

 

Dustin pulls the rope, leads up, and belays me from the top.  I finish and say to him, “I feel like I could lead that”.  He tells me to go down and climb it again, this time using one tool.  And I do it.  Pretty easily, actually.  I know that I can lead it, for sure.  I know that I’m absolutely solid on this ice. But, I’m a little hesitant.  I’m not afraid, but I know if I do it I’m 100% committed.  I decide to let it marinate and we cross over the creek to Tiers of Joy.

TOJ looks intimidating.  It’s taller than Bride Veil Falls, more sustained, and definitely more exposed.  Dustin points out all the rest stances and reminds me to take advantage of them as well as to take in the exposure and relax.  I do as he says.  I still get nervous and I’m pretty tired while cleaning the last two screws but I’m mindful to remain calm and take in the scenery, which helps keep me in control.  Still, I’m over gripping my tools.  I’m still struggling with this rookie mistake when nervous or on strenuous ice.  I really need to focus on having control over my grip or I’ll just end up burning out my arms. 

 

Climbing Tiers of Joy

 

I tell Dustin let’s not wait.  While we’re here, and while my arms are still fresh, I’m going to lead Bride Veil Falls.  This is my second time leading ice.  My first leads were last year, up two WI2 gullies at The Narrows.  This lead is a grade harder, with longer and steeper sections, and unlike the gullies that both ended on flat terrain near tree anchors, this climb will end with a snowy top out.  We go over the plan (which way I’ll go, and how we’ll finish), I take 5 ice screws, collect myself, and begin climbing.  I feel absolutely sure of myself on each swing and kick.  I pace myself through the easy sections, and I rest and evaluate before climbing the steep sections.  The hardest part is probably the top out.  I get in a screw at waist level and commit to the last few feet with my tools buried and feet securely dug in on each step.  I top out, feeling an amazing sense of calm (nothing like leading ice to make you so singularly focused) and accomplishment.  This climb will remain one of my finest moments.  It’s a milestone for me.  And I’m very grateful to all my friends and mentors who helped me achieve this, as well as my family for supporting me. 

Bride Veil Falls

Above my 2nd Screw on Bride Veil Falls

 

From there, Dustin and I headed into the Devil’s Kitchen and the ice was tremendous.  Huge school bus sized hangers and gorgeous smears of thick ice ran up the walls. We climbed 3^rd Corner (WI4) which is a pretty long and sustained route and I found myself needing to take several rests.  That ridiculous death-grip I on my tools I was talking about before was starting to wear me thin.  I was able to clean the last screw but once I reached it I lowered off, exhausted.  Dustin talked to me about using the higher grip on the tool after swinging, resting with my arms extended as opposed to flexed, and even keeping a more calm face while swinging.  Little points that will add up when combined.  I know I climb well.  My mistakes are common.  But as I progress and push myself into leading and climbing harder routes, I’ll have to rely more on sound technique than muscle. 

 

 

Climbing 3rd Corner

Some of the sick hangers in Devil's Kitchen



I decided to end the day running a couple laps on shorter, but steep, section of ice a little further up into the Kitchen.  It’s a section of hard 3’s and 4’s, about half the length of the taller routes where I had just climbed.  I topped out on my first route, and then traversed above to redirect the rope above another route.  I climbed up and down a few more time, worked on some of the above-mentioned tips and called it a day with a smile on my face.

Wrapping it up in Devil's Kitchen

 

 



Getting it in, while it's in.

The perfect recipe for ice - several days of rain and snow followed by several days of well-below freezing temperatures. What could be better than that?  My favorite climbing partner, my wife, telling me that she doesn’t mind belaying me for a couple of hours so long as it’s not too cold and I provide hot chocolate.  What I really need is to get this girl her own mountaineering boots!  
 
As luck would have it, the temperature that day was around 30 degrees, the wind was calm, and the sun was shining bright.  We took a ride out to the Delaware Water Gap so I could climb the Slateford Curtain.  From the parking lot, it’s less than a 10 minute walk…but you got to make it down that very steep slope above the creek and falls, which isn’t too bad going down as much as it is going up.  But we’ll come back to that.

Mr and Mrs

 

Me, standing below the curtain. Frozen waterfall to the left.

 

The Curtain was in ok shape.  Two obvious routes; with one offering left and right variations.  The bottom hadn’t quite touched down, so the first few feet of climbing were on fragile ice. The center was fat, and the top was mixed – ice, rock, and turf.  I was expecting some rock, so I wore my beat-up crampons. Unfortunately, the points had been grinded down to nubs, and the serrated teeth no longer had their bite.  Footwork was difficult.  Trying to lightly tap the tips into the delicate free-hanging ice wasn’t going well…it was either breaking, or I was losing my footing.  Once on the fatter more forgiving ice, I was cruising.  On the exposed rock, I was fine.  But man, oh man…it was all arms to get the climbing started!

 

 

Left and Right, then meet in the middle.

Extremely challenging to start up with bad crampons.

 

Hiking out of Slateford is challenging.  There is a trail, and I’m sure it’s the proper and even scenic way to get back to the lot.  But you look up, see about 200+ feet of steep scrambling and think it’s the quickest, most direct way out.  So, you go for it.  And it only takes a few minutes, and there are enough trees to either rest against or assume they’ll be there to catch you if you start sliding.  But it’s a literal on all-fours bear crawl.  My wife topped out, huffing and puffing, red-faced and a bit angry.  I laughed, pulled her up to her feet, and gave her a big kiss.  We changed back into our clothes in the parking lot and an hour later we're eating cheeseburgers, fries, and sharing a Blueberry Cheesecake Milkshake.  Thanks for the belay, babe!

Happy Guy.

After a day of rest, I met up with August and Andrew to climb some ice at the local crag.  The big flow was in, and thick.  This time, wearing my sharp crampons, I made quick and easy work and ran a couple laps.  When I was off climbing and belaying duties, I took a walk and saw in a chimney, that sometimes has a drip of ice, a pretty significant smear of ice and nearby, an overhanging crack with a good chunk of ice in the middle that we hadn’t climbed before. 

 

 

Plush, in excellent shape.



The smear route was short, but challenging and fun.  The top section was flanked by a crack that swallowed up took placements and the chimney squeeze required specific footwork and body positioning. Another 10 feet of climbing, this route would be a classic.  It’s unfortunate that this isn’t a regularly occurring ice formation.

 

 

The very cool Ice Smear route. Short, but worth it!

 

The neighboring climb was a brutally physical mixed route.  I went first (using my dull crampons since it was mostly rock) and managed to figure out the crux sequence (after getting tossed a few times) but found myself completely spent for the two-hands-on-one-tool escape move out of the constriction.  August and Andrew, being fresher, taller and having the chance to watch me, had it a little easier…not to say that it was easy.  Even August, the big strong young climber from Maine, struggled to finish.  We figured the climb was probably an M7-M8.

 

 

Once you get your feet on top of that ice bulge, you're past the crux...then it's overhanging through that big crack, tool placements are there, you just need some strong arms!

August, using his size, strength, and my Nomics, to work through the sequence.



Looking Back at 2014. Ice Rules!

Here's a list of what I did in 2014.  As you can see, the majority of my days out were ice/mixed.

Winter

1/1 – XXX* (ice, mixed)

1/4 – Catskills, Hillyer Ravine (ice)
1/18 – Slateford Falls, Mt. Minsi, Delaware Water Gap (ice)
1/21 – Dark Side, Plate Cove, Catskills (ice)
1/25 – XXX (ice, mixed)
2/6 – Across North Face of Pitchoff Mountain, Adirondacks, NY (ice)
2/9 – XXX (ice)
2/17 – The Narrows (ice)

Spring/Summer/Fall

4/14 – Ricks Rocks

5/26 – XXX
7/6 – Gunks (The Nears)
7/19 – Delaware Water Gap (Mt. Minsi)
9/20 – Gunks (The Trapps)
10/14 – Powerlinez
10/25 – XXX
11/2 – Delaware Water Gap (Mt. Minsi)
 
Winter

12/23 – Stony Clove, West Side, Catskills (ice)

 

17 Days Climbing (9 Ice/Mixed)

 

 

 

*XXX - local crag with access issues

We'll Just Keep Climbing Till It Sucks

The sound of rain woke me before my 5:40am alarm clock.  I stepped out the door just before 6am and saw it was coming down diagonally, pooling in my broken driveway.  Fifteen minutes later, I’m sitting in my truck in a Dunkin Doughnuts parking lot texting Doug Ferguson as the rainfall drums on my roof.  I’m beyond wondering if this is a good idea anymore, this must be a bad idea.  The forecast was calling for rain all week, and here it is.  It’s a day before Christmas Eve and at the North Pole, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer is on standby to lead Santa’s sleigh through this unfortunately timed winter Nor’easter.  Doug told me there’s definitely ice in the Cats.  Stony Clove is looking particularly good right now for this early in the season, and with all this rain and warmth it’s not about to last much longer.  Doug, who’s been up since 4am and probably on his 3^rd cup of coffee, is telling me it’s hardly raining in New Paltz and he’s psyched to climb.  I’m looking forward to climbing, and don’t mind getting wet while doing it, but I don’t want to spend the day getting drenched.  Still, I’m wondering, the Cats are three hours away and surely the weather up there will be different then it is here…right?  Right?

The drive up does little to inspire confidence.  It goes from mist to hard rain, back and forth.  When I get to Doug’s house, it’s maybe in the upper 30’s and raining lightly.  He’s optimistic and I’m doing my best to keep up with his good spirit.  We drive together the next hour north, and it seems to be raining even harder as we get closer.  Off the exit and winding up towards Hunter Mountain I notice as we get higher up on the switchbacks that there’s snow on the ground, a lot of it and the road cuts around us do have ice.  When we reach Tannersville, there’s a surprisingly deep carpeting of white and the rain seems to have suddenly stopped.  We drive along the road that sits beneath Stony Clove, and we can see through the heavy fog rock walls with thick ice.  We park at Notch Lake, wait out a heavy but short downpour, and begin our approach in a light mist.  Both of us feel like the rain will turn on and off throughout the day.  And like Doug told me this morning over the phone, our game plan for the day is go and “just keep climbing till it sucks”.   

 

Looking up from the Lake.

Directly under the approach.



Somewhere along the base of The Entertainer/Ice Capades/Climax, we found an overhand for our packs and just big enough for us to find shelter under in case it started to rain heavy again. The top of Climax was blank rock, but Ice Capades (WI2) was in decent shape and Doug led up it.  After I followed, Doug took another lap and carefully, carefully, carefully tip-toed over to the Entertainer to drop the line from the top.  The Entertainer (WI3/3+) was thick and we were able to do left and right variations.  But just as Doug began his first lap, the rain returned and we were forced to take shelter and sip hot drinks.  Fortunately, it was brief and even more fortunate it was the worst the weather got for the rest of the day.  We emerged, I took another burn and Doug his.  After topping out, Doug again chose to walk the loose, scary, and extremely sketchy top (while still roped up), to drop our rope on Them That Die Are The Lucky Ones (WI3+, M3).  Normally, this is an ice climb but conditions made it a mixed route, roughly an M3 in terms of difficulty.  I’ve climbed Entertainer/Ice Capades/Climax plenty of times before, but this was my first time on TTDATLO.  It’s an interesting corner climb and conditions definitely made it sort of an “alpine” climb, with snow deposits, chossy rock, wet turf and all sorts of gnarly ice…rock veiled in thin filmy ice, “snice” – ice covered by a sheet of frozen snow, and the occasional bulge of good ice.   

 

 

Ice Capades, with just enough ice at the top for a safe finish.

The Entertainer went on its left and right side.

 

Waiting it out under a rock roof.

  

Looking up the very "Alpine" start of Them That Die Are The Lucky Ones.
 





Upper Section of TTDATLO.

 

Little Black Dike looked full and thick ealier from the road, and Doug and I were psyched to get on it.  One of my favorite Catskills climbs, the usually reliable LBD is 100 feet of nearly vertical WI4.  But by the time we reached it, it was clear that sections were delaminated.  For the first time, I noticed Doug take on a serious and focused look about him as he tied-in and started to lead up.  About 30 feet into the route, I heard the scary hollow thud of tools hitting dangerous ice as Doug searched for a safe stance to place a screw.  But once Doug cleared the mid-way crux, he found himself on thicker ice with safer options and cruised the final feet to the top and calling out to me in a sing-song voice.  Even for me following, LBD was pretty scary on the lower half.  There were thin sections were you could see the rock and water running beneath the ice.  At the second screw, I found myself at an overhanging bulge and needed to rest on the rope and shake out my tired arms.  The sustained vertical climbing was definitely challenging, given that I haven't been on ice for almost a year, but I felt like I could easily return to last years' peak form and certainly achieve some greater skill or ability this year if I'm able to climb enough.

 



 

 



Little Black Dike.

Crusing up the last few feet of LBD.

 

Our day ended after LBD, the cliff was too wet and the remaining ice now too dangerous.  Doug and I both managed to get in 5 pitches of climbing on a day that didn't seem like we'd be doing any climbing at all.  I packed an entire clothing change, fearing the rain would soak me to the baselayer, but only needed to swap out a jacket after getting stuck under a drip on The Entertainer.  We both agreed, the day was a huge success and not once did it ever come close to sucking.

 

Me, with Doug.

 

 



 

 

Zoom In!

 

Here are a couple of pictures from my last outing at the Delaware Water Gap, taken by my friend Allison.



 

 

Crackpot

Crackpot

High Falls, just below first belay