I Recently Had a Near Life Experience

So my trips have been slowing down as of late. After a day trip to Grand Junction and a personal trip to the Black Canyon I was back in the Springs. The boss left for his own trip to the Wind River Range earlier and so I was basically in charge. I also had 5 trips that week. Pretty good.

So one of my trips was with an older woman doing multi-pitch climbs in the Garden. This was a great trip. We ended up climbing the three classic multi-pitch climbs in the Garden as well as the last pitch of West Point Crack which I had never actually done before. Before this we climbed the North Ridge of Montezuma's Tower and then at the end of the day we did New Era. So just a great day.

The day before I had a group of gentleman who I was going to be teaching everything I knew for three days. So we started the day off with some toproping and anchor building. Then near the end of the day I started to introduce trad gear and sport leading. One of the guys was having a little problem dealing with the height but everyone was grasping the concepts pretty well and so at the end of the day we decided to meet at Red Rocks to do some sport leading and anchor cleaning. Nothing big going on there, got some leading in and a few good climbs. So as the day ended we were once again going to the Garden to perhaps learn some multipitch climbing.

Meeting the next day they're all obviously quite hungover. No big deal, we'll take it easy. So I head to the first climb of the day, Finger Ramp. A real nice 5.7 with a little smeary crux at near the top. It's bolted in typical garden style with a good fifteen foot runout to the chains. It's also traversing in nature. As I double checked everyone being tied in and harnessed correctly I shoed up and shook my head dismissively at the quarter size hole in the toe of the right shoe. As I head up I feel pretty good I clip the first four bolts. I clip the last bolt before the anchor and look ahead. How did I do this last time I wonder. Oh well, it's 5.7, I'll figure it out. As I start to pull the layback moves I reach towards a large jug that ends the crux section. Looking at the hold I notice it's cracked around the entire hold so I shift my feet to move my hand higher to reduce the leverage on the hold. As I go to move my hand my foot slips and I'm sliding. Amazingly quite a few thoughts fly through my head. The first is that I should have resoled my shoes earlier. The second is that I've been sliding for a while, then I see the bolt go by and I think that's it's nice to have a client who knows how to belay.

As I slow to a stop I'm shaking. I look over to my clients to see them staring wide eyed as one of them asks if I'm ok, to which I reply, "yes I'm fine, but that's pretty much what it's like to fall." The thing about falling as a guide is, A: you're not supposed to do it, because it's very life threatening, and B: get your ass back up there because you can't let your clients know you're freaked out. Not only does it freak them out but it takes away the confidence they have in you. So I pulled my self back up to the last bolt, shook out my arms, which were scraped and bleeding, then proceeded to finish the climb like it was no big deal. Despite my fall everyone made it to the belay.

Despite eating lunch and hiking to the next area to climb I was still a little electrified from the fall. This combined with the many phone calls from the boss asking me to make many phone calls while on a trip, I felt really crappy for the day. In my opinion it was probably my worst day of work ever. The dark clouds and light rain reflected my mood as I cleaned the last anchors and we parted ways.

When everything goes according to plan guiding can be enjoyable. I get to take people on some of my favorite climbs. When things go wrong it can be very stressful. You can't avoid doing a climb because you're not feeling like doing that 30 ft. runout. You can't end the day because you take a bad fall (in fact you shouldn't fall at all). You're entirely responsible for the lives of others as well as you're own. The people belaying you might not catch you, in fact there is a chance that they might pull you off (hence the reason I free solo more often). A good guide will be able to hide their fear, boredom, frustration, and all the while being cheerful and efficient in order to bring the client an experience that they paid for. That day I did not do this very well although the previous two days with this group I had done this very well. I guess two out of three ain't bad.

The Voo and Bolted Canyon

Where would you go if you had a few days to kill? Would you go to your favorite local spot to work your project? Maybe head somewhere far off and new to see what the world has to offer? If you live in the Colorado area you might head to Vedauwoo. Home of the meatgrinding, toe torqueing, cheese grater, offwidths from hell.

So after a boulder session and a few beers me and a few colleagues noticed a blank spot on the work calendar. Most assuredly time for a roadtrip, but to where. Surprisingly, there are a lot of places I have not been. I suggested Estes Park or Eldorado Canyon but then my boss suggested Vedauwoo. Could we handle the crystals, big as an egg and sharp as a shark's tooth? How would we handle the dreaded off-widths? Arm-bars and chicken wings, butterfly and fist-hand jams. It was going to be a good time. Jump ahead a week and we're packing the truck. We pack only the essentials, beer, tents, triples of #4-6 camalots, and tape. Now, I'm not really a fan of tape. If you're jams are good they won't slide and you don't need tape. Of course when you finally stick your hand into the maw of one of those crystalline cracks you quickly change your mind. Tape is not aid here, it's protection, as good as the #4 in those parallel fist cracks. So after a short jaunt of about four hours we stopped at the store for some additional supplies and headed into the park.

Vedauwoo is located in Medicine Bow national forest. So camping was free and we set up in a place nicknamed Shanty Town then headed into the park. After ascending the third class trail we were at the base of Fall Wall. We decided to ease into things by climbing something with which we were familiar, slabs. "Warm-up" is apparently not something my boss is fond of as he lead off on Drop-Zone, a nice 5.10a. After making my way up the thin slab we rapped down and I led both EO Lieback and EO Friction both very easy at 5.5. Certainly fun but then it was time for something a little longer. Heading over to Walt's Wall to climb Edward's Crack, a nice two pitch 5.7. We watched as my boss soloed up and I quickly racked up to try and catch up. Catching him at the first belay station we chatted about the next section and then he was gone. Leading off I came to a chimney/offwidth section. I happily plugged in a #4 camalot and searched with my hand. Finally, a large crystal and I could pull my head out of the chimney and there it was...a fantastic jug. A few more akward, feet above my head, moves and I was on easy ground. Rappeling down there was some minor discussion about soloing the climb by moonlight, apparently a local habit.
Heading back to the campsite I started up the fire and we got dinner on the grill. After eating some food and having a few drinks the subject turned of course to soloing Edward's Crack. I was a little more motivated than others but I didn't feel like doing it by myself so as the light of the fire faded so did our energy and we soon went to bed.

The dawn brought a new day which I was up rather early to greet. After starting up the fire again and wandering around people began to wake up. Luckily for us one from our troupe had made banana bread which was delicious. So, filled with caloric goodness we packed our gear and headed for the Crystal Freeway. After trudging up a boulder field, then down a boulder field, then across a boulder field we came to a nice boulder which we geared up on and set off on Northeast Cutoff. At 5.5 it was a good first lead for one of the less experienced members of our grop. Then I led the second pitch which starts off traversing across a seam to another seam which lasts for about one hundred feet before it becomes a mean size offwidth. Since the only gear I had to fit in there was a #4 camalot I had to continue pushing it along with me. So below me was a #1 camolot. When I say below, I mean way below, like 50 feet. So I took my time stacked my hands and eventually made it to the top.

Next we headed to Strawberry Jam. From the way my boss talked about it and the look of it I thought for sure it was hard 5.10 but it comes in at a stiff 5.8. Unfortunately, I had turned down the lead but felt quite good seconding. This was the last climb of the day. While we were heading down through another boulder field my boss and I have a conversation about an upcoming trip:

HIM: If someone shows you around do you think you could teach a lead climbing class for a guy in Boulder Canyon.

ME: I guess so, just sport leading?

HIM: Yeah, he climbs in the gym apparently. It'd be a two day class and probably just getting him on lead the next day after learning the rappelling and anchoring and everything like that.

ME: I think I can handle that. You're going to have to give me some money (I had forgotten my wallet).

So everyone else drove in a seperate car while I headed for Boulder. Now in a lot of ways I like Boulder. It kind of reminds me of Boston, a lot of young people, good public transportation, and crowded as hell. To say the least it's a pain in the ass to drive around in Boulder with all the stop signs, red lights, and pedestrian crosswalks. It's an exercise in patience. So luckily I stayed with another guide near Ft. Collins. Unfortuntely, this required I drive for about 45 minutes there and back. Either way though I met my client at eight in the morning and we headed into Boulder Canyon.

The previous day the other guide had shown me around and given me some ideas where to take the client. While walking around how the canyon is often nicknamed Bolted Canyon because people will bolt any piece of choss. My limited experience seemed to suggest that most climbs were responsibly bolted.

Either way I led my client up several climbs on a crag called The Riviera. We climbed Chouette, a nice single pitch 5.6. We also climbed Splash, which describes what will happen if you don't place gear when available. The last climb of the day was Topless Etiquette another single pitch 5.8 that was pretty fun. Unfortunately, our day was ended after this because of rain. Now rain isn't uncommon in Colorado, especially in the afternoons but it's usually just a splash here and there which dries quickly. So the day thus ended I headed back into Boulder to hook up with the other guide for some climbing.

The plan was to solo the 1st and 3rd flatiron. Unfortunately, it rained, and continued to rain so that plan was out. After cooking dinner and driving back up the canyon I decided to sleep in the truck I had been lent. At this point it was not raining and it looked like the rain was over for the day (I didn't have a weather report). Little did I know I'd be in for a soaking. So I pulled out sleeping pads and sleeping bags as well as the rain fly of my tent, just in case. All things considered I fell asleep pretty quickly since I was next to highway and a rushing creek. Sometime later in the night I woke up to water falling on my face. I quickly pulled the rainfly over me, making sure it covered the entire bag. I dozed off once again and soon was awoken by a feeling of moisture at my feet. Did I not cover them? I checked and soon confirmed that my feet were covered. Obviously the water was soaking through the rainfly. So what to do? The truck was filled with gear so I couldn't sleep in it, it'd be uncomfortable anyway. So in my infinite wisdom I practiced the art of suffering. I laid in my sleeping back with wet, cold feet. I felt water start to seep into the sides by my shoulders. eventually I was curled into the fetal position in the dry portion of the bag and dozed in and out of sleep till eventually my eyes opened to daylight.

As I looked out it was still raining. My trip would be cancelled. So after confirming this and meeting the client to let them know what their options were. I headed back to Colorado Springs to enjoy more rain. It was an exciting trip though with the exploration of new areas and new styles of climbing. Hopefully, I will be heading back to visit them soon.

Work is always Work

So I've been guiding out here in Colorado for about two months. In some ways it's been really awesome. In other ways it is occasionally a drag. So here's what I've experienced/learned/done so far.


My climbing since coming to Colorado has been pretty much devoted to climbing in two places. The Garden of the Gods and Red Rocks. Climbing in the Garden is practically an art. First you must except that you are climbing on stone which is loosely conglomerated grains of sand. The ability to somehow defy gravity and not crush the holds supporting your weight is a learned skill. The incentive to learn this skill is so you don't die because the probability that there is a piece of gear or one of the numerous soft iron pitons that Harvey Carter pounded into drilled holes anywhere near you is highly unlikely. Since learning to climb in the Garden my mental abilities are astounding. An example follows.

The Fixer 5.10a two pitches:
The first pin is about thirty off the ground and climbing to the pin while averaging about 5.7 does have a few 5.9 moves right before you clip the pin. From here there are several stiff 5.10a moves on crumbly holds. After the last pin, at about sixty feet off the ground, it's at least another sixty feet to the anchors with a few fifth class moves. The second pitch follows a loose crack with a strenous overhanging start. I have yet to climb it but the first ascencionist told me it wasn't too difficult, just dirty.

Climbing in Red Rocks is a little different. The routes all suite my technical style but after climbing about 30 routes there I've found them to mostly be very similar and mostly boring.

The thing about guiding here is that it's different every day. Sometimes I climb with people who've climbed before and things go smooth, we climb some fun stuff. Then other days I'm soloing the same 5.7 for the twenty fifth time and trying to haul people up while, with no thought of style, they grab quickdraws and stand on bolt hangers.

Between the two places I must say that I really enjoy the Garden more. The climbing is just better. There are a few climbs that I don't think I will ever get tired of climbing:

Crescent Corner 5.9, a fantastic corner with lots of laybacking and underclings.
N. Ridge of Montezuma's Tower 5.7, a fantastically exposed two pitch ridge, just awesome.
New Era 5.7, a great three pitch dihedral on the most solid rock in the park, solid face and crack climbing with a fantastic last pitch.

I'm hoping that the future will bring more varied climbs in different areas. I'd really like to get to know the South Platte area better. There is a ton of first ascents to be had and it's nice to be on bomber granite every once and a while. I'd also like to explore some of the other classic climbs that Colorado has to offer. There is a ton of great rock here. Climbing almost every day has improved my climbing ten fold. Climbing eight pitches in a four hours is not something that I would find difficult. I feel like a badass.

I am impoverished but I enjoy my life. I walk the razor's edge in climbing shoes, it's awesome. Send money.