Through the fall/winter I was living back home in Eastern Kentucky.  There isn’t much in the way of trails there so my brother an I went to work with the shovel, saw, rake, and pick to build some big stuff.  Ladder drops, switchbacks, gaps.  we were going to town and having  a blast but then the wet season hit.  In KY that means rain and sleet mostly but the occasional snow.  And of course the temps get absolutely frigid.  I didn’t want to let that stop my from riding but my mountain kings just weren’t up to the task when our clay-ey dirt gets moist.  So I picked up a Maxxis Swampthing for the front and a Vredestein Bull Lock for the rear.  This review is going to be about the Maxxis.

I got the Swampthing really cheap (I can’t remember now but I want to say it was less than 30 dollars) and was really impressed with the tire when I got it in the mail.  I’m not usually a fan of wire beads because they are hard to mount and heavy.  Both of those things proved to be true about the Maxxis.  It was heavy, and it was hard to mount, but other than that, it all went smoothly.

Here are a few of the finer points:

Casing size:

The casing seemed a bit small to me, but the knobs are HUGE.  So measured knob to knob it is comparable to the 2.4’s I’ve ridden but measured just at the casing it is a bit small.  This wasn’t really a problem for me though.

Mud clearing:

This tire is absolutely amazing at clearing mud.  We have this weird clay-ish dirt in KY that just packs in and sticks to everything.  If you are running a Nevegal or a Mountain King in the wet around here, you might as well be running a 10 pound slick because thats what they turn into.  The Maxxis Swampthing did not have this problem.  Even at slow speeds the tire clears out well and keeps the traction coming.

Traction in the wet:

On my first ride I really couldn’t believe how great this tire felt.  I’ve ridden the trail that I built in dry and wet conditions on Nevegals and Mountain Kings.  In the wet with those tires it becomes really un-fun.  In fact it becomes all out dangerous.  The lack of traction in the corners means scary handling.  But with the Swampthing I had no fears entering a wet corner at full speed.  Even a slightly frozen over wet corner felt pretty manageable at speed.  WIth this tire on the front I was approaching the feel of how I’d expect to the bike to handle in dry conditions, except the trail was wet and slick.  Basically, in the wet, slimy, clay-like dirt we have, I don’t think better performance is imaginable.

Traction in the dry:

This is a mud tire.  In the deep loamy dry stuff it can be excellent too.  But, on hard-pack and on rocks, this tire completely loses all ability.  On the hard pack those tall wide spaced knobs squirm and fold resulting in the most unstable ride I’ve ever felt.  But that isn’t a problem really since that isn’t the intent of the tire.

Rolling speed:

This is probably the slowest rolling tire I’ve ever ran.  But I’m not complaining.  If it were a fast roller it wouldn’t be good for its intended purpose which is to shed mud and shred the swampy trails.

Durability:

I’ve had this tire on since November and put on a lot of miles in the wet mud and in the snow on my commute to work occasionally.  I even ran it for a month here in Texas on the super dry hard pack.  With all of that, I’d say I’m at about half of the tread-wear on the tire.  So it could be better, but it is still an acceptable amount of wear.

So to sum it up:

Size: 4 out of 5 – I feel like the casing should be a bit wider considering it is a 2.4

Mud clearing: 5 out of 5 – I’ve never seen anything like it.

Wet traction: 5 out of 5 – this tires ability to perform in the wet is almost unreal as long as the dirt is soft.

Dry hard-packed traction: 0 out of 5 – miserable and all around scary.  But hey, this isn’t a dry season tire

Dry soft trail: 5 out of 5 – the tire performs spectacularly in soft loamy trails even when dry

Rolling Speed: 2 out of 5 – Dude, it is whicked slow.  But given its intended use, I can’t complain about that.

Durability: 3 out of 5 – I’d like for it to wear a little better, but it is lasting longer than a lot of other tires I’ve ran.

Well, there is my quick and dirty review of the Maxxis Swampthing 2.4 wire bead after having had them on my bike for five ish months.  I hope this can be helpful to some people looking for tires as they enter the wet season next fall a few months from now.

Day 1: Arrive in Colorado and bivy at the parking lot

Day 2: Do the 8 mile hike to South Colony Lake

Day 3: Hike Humboldt for acclimation

Day 4: Do the Crestone Peak to Crestone Needle Travers

Day 5: Rest

Day 6: Do Ellingwood Ledges

Day 7: Hike out.

It was a good plan, do some easy stuff to a get acclimated/scope out the route and then tackle the 3000 foot face of Crestone Needle on the last day.  Sadly, this plan was not to be.

On the way up it was cold and rainy, but, like the troupers we are, we pushed through and after a few hours bumped into my friend P-czych who I climbed with last year.  He was planning for the Ledges the next day.  We continued on the hike and setup next to P-czych and his crew.  The mountains and the area at South Colony Lakes is probably to this day the most beautiful place I’ve ever been.  It is a small valley surrounded by Humboldt, Crestone Needle, and Broken Hand pass.  

The next morning we headed up for Humboldt and P-czych decided to join us because his crew was no longer doing Ellingwood.  This is when our troubles began.  One thing Roadtrip Partner and I hadn’t accounted for in our perfect little plan was snow.  P-czych’s crew, though equipped for snow, decided the route was too snowy.  This didn’t bode will for us since we hadn’t even brought proper snow gear.  Scoping out the route from Humboldt we could see that the direct start pitches had snow in the crack and the top 3rd class finish was a pretty snowy couloir instead of third class rock.  At this point we resigned that we may just have to hike out.  The hike up Humboldt was a cruise and pretty easy.  It was my 7th 14er (8th if you count Cameron) and probably the easiest aside from Bross.  Humboldt made one thing obvious to me, class 2 walk-ups really just aren’t doing it for me anymore.  For me it isn’t about the summit, it is about the enjoyment of the climb and simply walking up a well established trail is just not worth it for me.  It was a good acclimation exercise but seriously not that fun.

Once back to camp, road trip partner and I were faced with a tough decision.  Do we hike out the next day or do we stay and try to do some other routes?  It looked like even the Standard Route up the Needle would be a snow filled trudge and without snow gear, not much fun.  We had reports from P-czyks crew that the class 4 route up the Crestone Peak was also snowy and not doable without crampons at least.  This pretty much shut down all of our plans.  

Road trip partner and I however, were not to be shut down so easily.  We decided that the next morning we would get up early and at least make an attempt to get to Broken Hand Pass on the Standard Crestone Needle Route.  This way we could scope out the rest of the route and decide if we wanted to summit Crestone Needle.  

When we woke up at 5AM the consensus was that it was cold, neither of us had slept well, and we weren’t going to make the attempt on the Standard Route.  We stayed in our sleeping bags and slept.  Then, around 7AM when we were both wide awake, we discussed that we had really chuffed out this morning and we were both regretting not attempting the climb.  So we decided that in spite of it being a few hours later than we had hoped, we would make at attempt to at least get to the pass.

After a couple of hours of kick-stepping through snow and up a couloir, we were wet and tired but we had made it to the Broken Hand Pass with little trouble.  I switched shoes and socks (thinking that was the end of the snow and I wanted to have dry shoes on) and headed through the pass onto the rest of the trail.  Boy was I wrong about the snow being over.  Both the East and West Couloir of Crestone Needle were complete snow troughs.  Had we made a bad call?  Maybe, but we pushed on.  Kick stepping up steep snow in my Acopa Lowriders  was proving to be pretty difficult so I quickly hopped onto some rock between the couliars.  Though better than trudging up snow, this was pretty damn scary.  Instead of the class 3 scramble we expected, we found ourselves in what was easly class 4 if not easy 5 terrain.  But we Pressed on.

After a couple of hours, we surprisingly enough found ourselves at the summit of Crestone Needle.  This was one of the best summits I have made.  Not for the faint of heart for sure.

The trip down was when the real adventure began.  As I started down climbing the rock I quickly found myself in an uncomfortable position.  At probably the most fearful moment of my life, my feet slid from under me and I found myself balanced on my hands staring down a steep steep steepcouloir.  Not fun. Not fun at all!

Road trip partner and I discussed our options and decided we would man up and glacaid the couloir.  What an experience!  We glacaded nearly 1500 feet but found ourselves back d0wn to the trail towards the pass in what has to have been record time.  We hurried to the pass and glacaded the last bit of snow to the main trail leading back to camp.  

All in all, Crestone Needle was an experience for sure.  Even though we didn’t get to do the route we planned on, we still had a great time scrambling up scary rock and glacading down 60+ degree snow.  Looking back on it, it was a pretty stupid thing that we did.  Heading up steep snow climbs, me in my sneakers and road trip partner in light weight hiking boots, was probably a really unsafe plan of attack.  But in the end, we made it and it was a hell of a trip!

Once back to camp I decided I needed a rest day but road trip partner wanted to attack Challenger and Kit Carson.  He headed out on his own the next day but returned early when the snow was just too heinous to tackle alone with  no snow gear.  We hiked out that night, without ever making an attempt on Ellingwood Ledges.  But I’m not to upset since at least I now have a reason to go back to such a beautiful area.

After leaving the Crestones, we got some beta on the mountains and it seems Colorado had a later than usual snow meaning most of the mountains we wanted to climb were still frozen over.  Without proper snow gear on this trip, we decided to change plans and head farther west to Moab.  Look forward to an update soon revealing the awesomeness that is desert tower climbing and the amazing splitter cracks of Indian Creek.

So, if you have been paying any attention my sparse tweeting you may have gathered that just a couple of weeks ago I started a road trip.  In preparation for this trip I spent a couple of weeks living at Miguel’s while intermittently trecking back to Lexington to tie up loose ends.  The purpose of this prolonged stay in the Red was three fold:

1.) Get stronger before hitting the road

2.) Finish up some lines I’d been wanting to do for a while now.

3.) Ease into living out of my car and dirt bagging it.

I successfully completed at least 1 and 3.  In the three weeks I was there I managed the hardest sends I’ve ever done both on gear and sport.  I didn’t get to tick off some lines that I wanted to because the weather simply wasn’t there for the crack climbing.  It rained almost every day and the humid rain forrest like weather of the red wasn’t too conducive to plugging gear.

Me during the red point of Rock Wars

In the trad arena I was able to tick off a couple of really classic 9′s most notably Strick 9 as well as get the red point on my first 5.10 trad line Rock Wars .  In the three weeks I was there I got on a couple of other 5.10 trad lines only to get shut down but leave feeling stronger.  

Notable gear climbs to go back to:

Tradisfaction 5.10a (took my first real lead fall on gear. Maybe 15+ feet onto a #1 camalot)

Doppler Effect 5.10b (should have sent but couldn’t work out one move that was my full wing span)

Brontosaurus 5.10b (worked a couple of times but was causing my rotator cuff and elbow tendonitis to flare up)

The Inhibitor (way out of my league but a friend at Miguel’s really wants me to get on it so I will in his honor the next time I am there)

Pulling the crux move of To Defy the Laws of Tradition 5.10a sport

In the realm of sport I on-sighted several 10′s  which was a real confidence booster for me.  Even better than that, I sent my first 5.11 line Aqueduct Pocket 5.11b .  Aqueduct is a one or two move wonder followed by easy 9 or 10 plate pulling to the top.  This really got my confidence up and psyched me for getting on more 11′s.   Throughout the next week or two I got on several more but only managed to red point one, Air-ride Equipped 5.11a.  Air-ride was an amazing climb, probably the most fun I’ve ever had clipping bolts.  It comprises of a series of tiered roofs with the crux being the final roof move to a big rest ledge.  I fell here twice but on the third time I crushed it and got the red point.  I highly recommend this climb to anyone out to have a great jug pulling experience on the steeps.  

So now I’m on the road for at least the duration of the summer, hopefully more, with a guy I met on mountainproject.com.  Road trip partner is a pretty good guy, we get along well, and we climb at similar levels so there is nothing to complain about there.

Currently in Moab but there is more climbing to fill you in on before I get to that.  Look forward to  a sweet trip report about climbing in the Crestones  and summiting my 7th and 8th 14er as well as my first desert tower climb here in Moab.  Maybe in the next few days I can get you guys up to date.  

Till then, peace out.  And please send me your healing vibes for my horribly self destructing wrist and numbing fingers.

Last week I got on Rock Wars for the first time. The first go had me a little sketched out on the lower part of the route which is considered by most to be 5.9ish. I had to hang a couple of times and once I got to the bolt two thirds of the way up (where the route used to end) I decided there was no need to head out into the 5.10a crux after the weak attempt I had just made on the easy stuff. That said, the moves were amazing and I was inspired to come back and try to send the route. In spite of having to hang twice on the easier section, something inside me was aware I could send the route clean. In fact, I feel like I would have done much better on the on-sight go had I warmed up on Autumn first. The fact is, I hadn’t climbed any trad since I sent Autumn the first time over a month ago. For this reason, I was questioning my gear all the way up Rock Wars. I just needed to get back into the swing of things and give it another burn.

One week later I returned equipped with more gear and friends to provide the mad sending vibes I would need. This time I made a better decision to warm up by climbing Autumn first. Crushing Autumn easily really got my spirits riding high, and I could feel the Rock Wars send building up inside of me. I was amped and this shit was going to go down. Anticipation was building to the point that I couldn’t set still as I rested at the base of Rock Wars. I can’t remember the last time I was this psyched to get on a route (well, maybe a few days before when I first laid my eyes on Brontosaurus was a pretty similar feeling).

Finally, I racked up and set off. This time I had a real plan which helped a lot. While I was resting I had been eyeing up the route, remembering my placements form the previous week and setting a goal to only place every other one. I wanted to avoid sewing it up and climb fast and confidently. So as I was climbing, even if I felt the need for a piece I pressed myself to power through two or three more moves where I knew there was a more solid stance and better pro. In this way I cruised the lower section that had given me such trouble the previous week. After sizing up the crux from the rest ledge, I set off in hopes of making it to the anchors. I had a little bit of a plan for the gear. My first piece down low, a number one before the crux and a .75 after then move to the anchors. After plugging my first piece I pulled one move and found myself in the most comfortable stance I had found the entire route. My first thought was to plug a piece but it was only three feet above my last one. “A waste of energy to protect here,” I thought, “just pull on up below the crux and place the next piece.” Before I knew I was mid crux and little farther from my last protection than I wanted to be. In a brief mental hiccup I tried to plug a piece from an unstable stance but couldn’t get it solid or clip it. Sadly, at this point I had to call for a take and fall below my last piece. Had I protected at that solid stance I had before, perhaps this would have been a send, but oh well, that is just a maybe. After a brief rest, I pulled into the crack and cruised to the anchors with a sigh of relief. I was tired, completely exhausted actually, but I knew the route, I knew what to do for the pro, and more importantly I knew I could send.

On the second attempt of the day, I knew exactly what pieces I had placed and took only those, racking them in the order I placed them to make it even easier. Most importantly I worked out the crux move in my head several times before lifting off. As I reached the anchors I felt a wave of satisfaction, but there was something missing. I didn’t have that awesome feeling I had after on-sighting my first 5.9 Autumn a month or so before. This send, though notable on my tick list, felt somewhat empty in spite of how great it felt to tick off my first 5.10 trad line.

Examining this void later is what prompted the point of this post, and I am sorry it has taken me so long to get to it. I feel the previous description of the climb was necessary to get across the something that was lacking in the send. On the final attempt I never got scared, I never got tired, I don’t even remember even thinking about placing gear. The moves alone on the route are spectacular, but to me, just doing the motions of the route wound up not being enough.

In sport climbing, projecting a route is a common and accepted practice. It is the norm to give an on-sight burn hoping to tick off our current project in one go only to fall, work the sequence over and over until we could do the moves blindfolded, and then go back for the red point burn. But is this an accepted practice in trad climbing? As trad climbers, don’t we love placing pro as much as we love doing the moves of a route or is that just me? The instant gratification that comes from correctly making a split second decision as to which cam or stopper to place in a crack, or the fear and panic that result when we realize we have chosen incorrectly, is part of the game. It is, in essence, why I love trad climbing. Projecting Rock Wars sort of took that away. Knowing every single placement and move like the back of my hand before I touched the rock on the third go really dumbed down the climb. In fact, the accomplishment feels tainted and hollow as result. I might as well have been clipping bolts on a sport route well below my limit.

What are your thoughts on the matter? I personally don’t think I’ll be projecting anymore trad lines. That said, I am hungry for my first 5.10 trad send without serious projecting. Maybe it will happen before I leave KY and maybe not, but either way, it will be a gratifying experience I am sure.

Today I took my first shot at Rock Wars which is a 10a trad line at Long Wall in the Red River Gorge.  The climb was nothing short of spectacular and after hang-dogging my way up it, I am convinced that I can definitely do the moves and send it in the next week or so.  It is obvious that the only thing preventing me from sending today was my lead head.  I wasn’t sure of my gear, climbing into not so solid stances was freaking me out, and I just wasn’t confident in my ability to climb it.

This same problem haunts me on sport routes.  I feel strong and not pumped out.  I can climb above a bolt pretty cooly.  But as soon as the stance gets a little iffy I start freaking out and down climbing.  Rather than commit to a big move that I am capable of doing, I down climb to avoid “the Whip”.  Even on super solid bolts and totally clean falls, I just cannot manage to get myself to commit to more difficult moves.  I’ve taken several falls in the past (some measuring up to 25-30 feet) and I usually actually enjoy the feeling afterwards.  Yet the problem remains, when I get scared, I climb down rather than commit and risk the fall.

So basically in spite of considerable gains in strength and technique, I am still suffering from the mental crux when I climb.  The next step in progression for me is to be comfortable risking falls.  In order to achieve this goal I have been hopping on routes that are considerably harder than I am able to climb clean.  The goal here is to force myself into a possible fall situation so I have to deal with it and take the fall.  Sadly, this approach hasn’t been effective at all.  I still suffer from the down climb syndrome. The fear of the whip haunts my climbing and is really holding me back.  I will not achieve my goal of breaking into 11′s on sport and 10′s on gear until I have found a way to deal with this mental crux.

Just venting a little frustration with myself from today.  Have you had similar experiences with being afraid of taking a fall?  How did you deal with it?

Quick Summary:

Overall rating: A

The Good: Super light at 9oz (255g), cheap with an MSRP of 49.95, comfortable, four nicely sized gear loops, small elastic loop for chalk bag

The Bad: Leg loops too small, leg loop straps come unclipped.

Harness photo courtesy of Mad Rock's website

More in depth review:

When I was deciding on a new harness to buy I wanted four main features:

1. Lighter than the Petzl Corax I already owned
2. More packable than the Petzle Corax
3. Four gear loops to ensure enough space for my rack (I don’t use a shoulder sling)
4. Comfortable enough for hanging belays on multi-pitch climbing

I found a couple of harnesses which satisfied the first three criteria (no way to know about #4 until purchasing and testing).  I deduced my options to:

• Arc’teryx R-320
• Mad Rock Mercury/Neptune
• C.A.M.P. Air/Air CR

There are probably others that fit the bill but these were the three I found.

The Arc’teryx is renown for its comfort form their new Warp Strength Technology(TM).  Several of the strongest climbers I know wear this harness and I was seriously considering it.  But the price is pretty unreasonable with an MSRP of $125.  It is also heavier than the Mad Rock at 320g 

The C.A.M.P. Air series looked promising.  Cheaper than the Arc’teryx with an MSRP of $74.99 and lighter at 238g.  This was originally going to be my purchase, but it was unavailable and no C.A.M.P. dealer could get it to me within a month.

Then there is the Mad Rock Zero Gravity Series.  The Mercury which I chose was the cheapest of my choices with an MSRP of $49.99 and a middle ground weight of 255g.  Heavier than the C.A.M.P. but still lighter than the Arc’teryx.

I chose to get the Mad Rock due to its cheaper price and more ready availability. 

It arrived in less than a week and when I got the package I could hardly believe in contained a harness.  This thing is hyperlight.  It folds up smaller than one of my shoes and takes up nearly zero room in my pack.  So far so good.  Lighter than the Corax, check.  More packable than the Corax, check.

According to the Mad Rock rep I spoke to on the phone, aside from color, the only difference between the Mercury and Neptune is adjustable leg loops.  After measuring my thighs and speaking with the rep, I figured the Mercury loops should fit me nicely and opted for non-adjustable gear loops.  This is where my one major problem with the harness lies.  The loops are simply too small for my legs.  Maybe I just have massive quads, but it was pretty uncomfortable when I put it on in spite of the rep telling me it would fit my legs fine.  The next size larger would probably be perfect in the leg loops but then the waist would be too big resulting in the same problem I’ve had from my Corax, sagging when fully racked.  The leg loops are held tight by a piece of elastic which spans a small part of the loop and stretches to fit your legs  (see photo, its hard to explain).  I decided that cutting this elastic would give me more space in the leg loops without harming a load bearing part of the harness.  This helped the fit, but it is still a little tight.

You can see the tabs from where the elastic band used to span the leg loop. Cutting off helped my fit issues

So with the fit sorted out, the Mercury is quite comfy when you put it on.  The numerous holes in the waist and leg loops are quite scary looking.  In fact, when I first pulled it out of the box, the thought of a hanging belay in the Mercury was not very pleasing.  After two months of wearing the harness for everything from training in the gym and single pitch sport lines to long multi-pitch traditional routes, I can say that Mad Rock did their homework on this harness.  It looks horribly uncomfortable but has actually never been a problem.  I haven’t noticed any more pain than my heavily padded Petzl Corax I had before.  In fact, I usually forget I even have it on.  I have hung in this harness while belaying my partner up 400 feet of Looking Glass Rock with no pain even when he decided to hang and take a rest.  I’ve caught small falls from another partner on sport routes, no pain.  I’ve taken a bit of whip on it, no pain.  In summary, the harness is comfortable and if the Arc’teryx is more comfortable, I simply can’t imagine it.

I am totally pleased with the purchase of the Mad Rock Mercury and would recommend it to anyone.  The many holes cut out in the material often get comments like “sicklooking harness dude” but don’t result in any discomfort at all.  If you are on the market for a super light, super comfy, and at the same time cheap harness.  Get one of Mad Rocks new Zero Gravity Harness Series harnesses.  I would however, recommend going for the Neptune over the mercury in order to avoid the leg loop sizing issues I had.  

However, one of my main goals as of late has been to progress my trad skills and break into 5.9 territory (hopefully 5.10 by the end of the summer).  The move from 5.7 to 5.8 was surprisingly uneventful.  I have climbed a handful of 5.8 lines and never really felt like it was a serious push.  It did feel good to get that first one in a couple of months ago (One Fist Two Fist Red Fist Blue Fist – 5.8 – Dip Wall, Red River Gorge), but none of the 8′s I’ve climbed have felt like they were pushing me as much as I expected.  They simply weren’t inspiring.  So, I decided I should just go ahead and hit 5.9 running and see how it goes.  Yesterday it went, and it went well!

I first heard about Autumn (5.9 – Long Wall, RRG, KY) three months ago when a friend of mine at the gym mentioned that it was one of his dad’s favorite trad climbs.  This guy’s dad has been climbing since the 70′s and has climbed at pretty much every major crag in the Eastern U.S. and several out west.  Hearing that a 5.9 in the Red could be one of his favorites intrigued me greatly, and in the back of my mind Autumn became the driving force behind my desire to climb harder trad.  One major factor in pushing yourself in climbing is motivation.  If you aren’t deeply motivated, it is easy to rationalize a plateau in performance and not push yourself.  Autumn has been my motivation for the past three months.  About three weeks ago I decided that I felt strong enough mentally and physically to give it a go.  I won’t say I felt like I would send it first try, but I definitely felt like getting on it.  Sadly, those three weeks went by with no attempts on the route.  One weekend it rained, the next I was climbing with Iowa Girl, I had injured knees, and she didn’t seem too stoked for hitting up Long Wall.  The next weekend was Looking Glass which was a trip totally worth delaying Autumn for since it has been a goal for longer than I have been climbing.  Mostly it was the knee pain that prevented me from getting on Autumn.  I guess it was a way to rationalize not pushing myself too hard.

So last week I made myself a promise.  I said that no matter what, I would get get on Autumn this weekend.  The weekend came, and things weren’t looking good.  All of my usual trad partners were busy on the weekend or had other plans for climbing.  I got in with a couple of guys going to Muscle Beach on Saturday, but didn’t have anyone to go to Long Wall with.  I was determined to get on Autumn Sunday; to the point that I was considering paying one of my friends to be belay slave for the day.  Luckily someone responded to my call for a partner on RedRiverClimbing.com.  He had a couple of projects at Long Wall too and is also a stronger climber than I, meaning I could feel safer pushing myself on something harder.

The day started off poorly.  We decided to warm up on Long Wall Chimney (5.7) and I took the lead.  However, we didn’t really have the pro for the right side crack (about three #5 Camalots would be perfect) and the left side looked thinner and more protectable (#2 crack for twenty feet or so about half way up).  Because of this climbing partner and I decided the best bet would be to climb 15 feet or so up the right crack, plugging the #5 as high as possible and then doing a rising traverse left to the smaller crack to reach the ledge above.  After the traverse I found that the smaller crack was complete and utter choss.  I plugged a .5 deep in a sandy friable crack between to blocks simply to cool my head but there is no way it would have held a fall at all.  The crack didn’t start looking better (in fact it looked worse) until about 6 feet up. Climbing above a super chossy piece, risking a 25′ decking pendulum swing really tweaked me out.  This is NOT why I love climbing.  

I definitely was not mentally prepared for this.  I managed to get to the nicer crack, placing a super bomb #3 at the bottom of it and pulling up into the off width below it to get a good rest.  The mental taxation of the previous moves had taken its toll on me though, and when it came time to pull out of the off width into a slightly overhanging lay-back, I couldn’t manage to pull the moves.  They should have been easy moves, but I simply wasn’t ready to climb any higher in my current state of mind.  After two or three goes with no success, I checked the #3 for stability and lowered off.  Climbing partner then gave it a go.  He was stronger than I, and also stuck with the right hand crack in spite of lacking the gear to protect it.  He chose to walk the #5 up the wide crack as went, hop scotching it over the #4 plugging it a total of 4 times in one pitch.  I then followed and cleaned.  Pulling the moves on the right crack felt way better than what I had done on the left, and I am convinced I would have been able to finish that side in the same fashion as he had.  Oh well, sometimes poor decisions lead to sketchy situations.  Needless to say, I was mentally fatigued and feeling like a total chuff bag after this.

We did a sport line on Climbing Parter’s tick list (he has a goal of climbing every 5.11 in the Red, so far is he is at 80%).  The opening move was a long throw to a nice pocket but I simply couldn’t pull it.  I was always about 3/4″ from the pocket so after about four tries I came down and let him get his send on.  He crushed it.  Again, I felt like a pile and was really doubting my attempt on Autumn. Oddly enough, this is still one thing I love about climbing.

By this time, the sun was out in full force and it was HOT.  We hiked over to the base of Autumn and took refuge under some large boulders to rest and let the sun move to the other side of the wall.  30 minutes later, I was racking up for my first go on a 5.9 trad climb, and I was going to lead it.  Having never even followed a 5.9 route, I had no idea what to expect, and with the events earlier that day, I wasn’t quite feeling up to the challenge.  Sitting at the base of the climb, it just looked so spectacular. There was no way I wasn’t at least going to try it.  Add to that the fact that I refused to drive home from another weekend at the gorge without getting on it.  It was time to focus and let go of the morning failures.  This is why I love climbing.

I chalked up, checked my gear, checked my knots, and touched the rock.  Pulling the first couple of moves all I could think was how important this climb was to me.  The moves so far were great and really conducive to my style of high foot, smear, lie back, stand up.  I was psyched, and memories of a bad morning on the rock were washed away.  Nothing mattered but this climb, this rock, this crack, and the challenge at hand.  The power that climbing has to remove any problem from my life, even if only for a moment, is unmatched by any other activity.  Focusing on every move, picturing the next placement for protection, determining how to tackle the problem directly in front of you.  This is better than any meditation or therapy.  This is rock climbing at its finest. This is why I love climbing.

Before I knew it I was at the rest ledge below the crux.  I placed a solid #3 above my head and prepared for a good shake out of the arms and some stretching of the calves.  This is however, where I made a mistake.  While I was resting I should have been sizing up the crux for protection, but instead I worked out the moves in my head a few times.  I didn’t think about which piece I would need or where to put it, something one should always be aware of when pulling into more difficult terrain.  About half way through the crux I realized I wasn’t getting a comfy stance to size up the gear, and I couldn’t see the crack from my current laid-back position beside the flake.  An attempt to throw in a #2 blindly proved unsuccessful so I decided to down climb back to the ledge.  At this point I was a little upset at myself.  Had I sized up the gear ahead of time I would have seen the perfect place for the #3 HB Quadcam two inches below where I tried to plug the #2 Camalot and I wouldn’t have needed to down climb.  But alas, it was a mistake that taught me a valuable lesson.  

After a short rest I was amped because I knew I could pull the moves, and, having figured out the pro, it shouldn’t be too bad.  I pulled back up to my previous stance, slammed in the cam and pulled a big move to the top of the flake.  The blood was pumping and the adrenaline flowing.  This is why I love climbing.  Pulling above the crux I got a solid stance to throw in one final piece of pro.  I was shaking with a mad case of ‘Elvis leg’ as I stood on a small edge and a good smear.  ”Just breath and chill out man, make those legs stand still, get this piece in and climb 8 more feet to the anchors,” I thought to myself.  ”Eight more feet to the anchors!” a voice inside me responded.  Excitement flooded my veins.  This is why I love climbing.  

I plugged my last #3 Camalot and continued climbing.  Pulling onto a nice ledge with the anchors at my chest, I pulled a draw off of my harness, clipped the bolt and clipped my rope through it.  A mad rush ran through my body.  Three months of aiming at this climb and  a month of thwarted efforts to get on it all lead to this.  The feeling of achievement was unimaginable.  I haven’t felt this good in a long time.  Sure it was just a 5.9 which, in a world of 5.14 routes going on gear that are hundreds of feet taller than Autumn, is pretty much unremarkable.  But to me, this was my goal and I achieved it.  I was inspired by this piece of rock and it had motivated me to push myself harder.  Without that motivation where would I be? Maybe still climbing 5.7 like I was three months ago?  Maybe still rationalizing why I wasn’t strong enough to even climb 5.8 trad lines?  I’ll never know and I’m glad I found this motivation.  Now I just need another stellar line push me harder.

Growth doesn’t stop with the achievement of one goal.  If one achievement doesn’t inspire you to set a new, higher goal, then you have achieved little.  Climbing Autumn was my motivation for three months.  Now it is my inspiration for the future of my climbing.  Thinking of the feeling I had when I clipped those anchors drives me to find my next goal. In a time when my future in other areas of life is quite uncertain, this inspiration is needed greatly.  This is why I love climbing!

So last weekend was the big NC climbing trip with climbing partner Ben.  We planned this about a month ago, and I’ve been so stoke since then (with the exception of my fear that I wouldn’t get to go due to the aforementioned knee issues.)  I first saw Looking Glass Rock a little while before I started climbing.  I was mountain biking in Pisgah with the fam and one of the trails we were on topped out to reveal a spectacular view of this amazing rock face.  ”I want to climb that!” is what went through my head.  It was about six months later that I really started getting into climbing at the gym and maybe a year later before I managed to get on real rock.  Throughout my time as a climber I’ve thought of how awesome Looking Glass looks and needless to say, getting to climb it was a dream of mine.  It worked out quite well that last summer I met Cliff and he taught me the ins and outs of trad climbing.  After having finally broken in the 5.8 range climbing trad here at my home crag the Red River Gorge, I decided that I was strong enough to tackle looking glass and suggested to Ben that we plan a trip.  

Ben racking up for Bloody Crack 5.8

DAY 1

The trip was AWESOME and climbing Looking Glass was every bit as spectacular as I expected it to be.  We started the day on a 5.8 called Bloody Crack.  Ben decided he would take the first pitch and other than a little trouble at the crux, he cruised it.  When he reached the belay ledge though, we learned that our plans were spoiled.  The second pitch was covered in water and did not look to be very fun to climb.  Luckily for us, the first pitch had a walk off so we hiked down, packed up our stuff and moved to a better, dryer part of the wall.  On the way in we had passed a super classic 5.7 called Second Coming and were hoping to get on it but of course there were people already there.  So, we opted to climb the 5.8 just left of it.  This was an equally classic line called Rat’s Ass.  The first pitch of Rat’s Ass was pretty scary for me.  The climbing was unlike anything I’ve climbed.  A super thin finger crack splitting a dihedral formed by two extremely smooth faces.  Luckily the rock was pretty low angle because the holds were practically non-existent.  The moves were a constant flowing sequence of high feet smearing followed by mantling opposition force moves.  The pro, though plentiful, was shoddy at best.  The small crack was irregular and flaring in places.  Small nuts seemed to give the best pro, but damn I wasn’t really confident in any of them.  At the top of P1 just before pulling the ledge the crack widened a little and I managed th emost bomber .75 placement which gave me a lot better feeling about this crack.  

Getting ready to lead the second pitch of Rat's Ass

After climbing the first pitch on TR Ben was really exhausted and asked me to take his pitch.  No big deal, just means I got to plug more gear which is always a good thing in my book.  I linked the second and third pitch to save time and made a quick run to the Gemini anchors.  All in all, Rat’s Ass was really fun route and totally worth climbing.

Second pitch of Rat's Ass

Next we got on Second Coming 5.7 just to the right of Rat’s Ass.  I took the first pitch again.  This route didn’t feel too much easier than Rat’s Ass.  The gear was better though because the crack was more hand-sized than finger tips meaning a little more stable gear and faster climbing.  Originally I was going to do the second pitch of this one too but as I was reorganizing the rack Ben decided he wanted it, and of course I was stoked to see him get another lead on.  He cruised the second pitch with no problem which leads me to believe he should have lead the second pitch of Rat’s Ass because it was easier than the one he did lead.  At the top we almost had an epic.  Clipping in to rap, I somehow managed to drop my belay device.  I watched in horror as it slid slowly down the slab, and let out a sigh of relief as it stopped 20 feet below me, teetering on a small nub of rock.  It turned out not to be a big deal since I just rapped down with Ben’s device to retrieve my own and then climbed back up to switch ‘em out.  

View from the top

Sadly, that was the end of Saturday.  We hadn’t been the fastest climbers on the rock and five pitches had taken most of the day.  We probably could have done another route, but we weren’t sure about doing these really tall committing routes that close to sunset and opted to get some food instead.

DAY 2

Day 2 turned out to be a bust.  The night after climbing Looking Glass we decided we wanted to go somewhere else while we were in the area and headed to Table Rock to camp.  When we woke up the next morning it was overcast but dry so we packed up and headed to the rock.  Table Rock is an amazingly impressive looking piece of rock.  It springs up from the surrounding landscape forming a giant rock monolith which can be seen from a few miles away.  Seeing it on the drive in was truly inspiring.  However, when we go to the rock the rain set in and things weren’t looking to great.  We hiked around trying to find something to get on, but the routes we came to were kind of chossy looking and started to seep.  Choosing safety over climbing we opted to hike back out to the car.  Table Rock is impressive looking from far away, but up close the rock doesn’t seem that great.  I haven’t climbed it so I will refrain from calling it choss, but damn it looked dirty and flaky.  Add to that the fact that the Quartzite feels like soap when it is wet and I wasn’t too keen on climbing there in the rain.  Instead we dropped the packs at the car and hiked the tourist trail to the summer for a spectacular view of Linville Gorge and the surrounding NC landscape.  At the top we met two older ladies who gave us cookies and brownies!

Ben on the only rock we climbed at Table Rock. Some big boulder on the way to the summit

All in all, the trip was awesome.  Climbing looking glass was something I’ve been looking forward to for longer than I’ve been climbing rock so it was a great experience for me.  Sadly we didn’t get on either of the most classic routes, The Nose or Sundial Crack, but that just leaves me with a reason to come back to this awesome rock!

A beautiful view of Linville Gorge to finish of a spectacular weekend