Showing posts with label Lover's Leap. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lover's Leap. Show all posts

Saturday, August 02, 2008

Lover's Leap Day Four: Deceptively Easy

We awoke the morning of our final day with the anticipation of getting a few more climbs in before having to split back to real life later in the day. "PBR" had a soccer camp to get to in the Bay area, and "Ratherbe" and I had a connecting flight out of Sacremento to catch in the early evening so that we would be comfortably red-eye bound on a Long Beach-to-Boston flight closer to midnight. The morning wasn't very stressful because we had a plan to get up as many climbs as we could before noon, and then we'd head back to the parking lot, tear apart our gear, repack it, shower at the Strawberry Lodge, eat, and get to Sacremento (construction delays or not) before our flight lifted off. It was a good plan, and we stuck to it even though we were all a little spent (emotionally and physically) from the preceding eight days.

Deception Direct (5.9R) - Three Pitches - Gear Anchors - All led

Approach: Deception Direct is on the far left of Hogsback. Hike out the trail across from parking spot #19 (turn left at the top of the stairs) and follow the ankle-breaker trail with the back of Hogwild and Hogsback to your left and Lover's Leap to your right. You'll follow this path for several minutes, looking for a small path that leads uphill and off to the left before turning right. This path is nearly as far down as the path to the left side of Lover's Leap, and it is not marked well. In fact, there is a smaller path on the left that you'll probably see first and wonder if this is the the correct one to take. It likely is not the correct path. I guess the easiest way to know this path is if you see the large, slabby boulder across from the right-hand path leading to Lover's Leap, then you've gone too far, by about 50 feet or so. Once on the path, follow it as it starts left and turns right and eventually to the slabs around Hogsback to the talus field. Knapsack Crack starts at a tree that is about a third of the way up the cliff, and Deception Direct is a bit more to the right and follows a right-facing corner most of the way up. Start at the small tree that is right of the corner.

Pitch One (5.2) - 90 Feet - Gear Anchor - "Ratherbe" led

There's nothing special to report about this first pitch except that it feels a bit harder than 5.2, but probably isn't much harder. The gear is good and there is more than one place to establish an anchor. "Ratherbe" set the anchor on the face just left of the corner just below and left of a small roof to her right, probably a bit lower than the full 90 feet. Essentially climb the corner until you come to a good anchor position on the face on the left.

Pitch Two (5.9R) - 120 Feet - Gear Anchor - "PBR" led

This was the money pitch, and "PBR" led it well. To climb this, follow the corner to the small roof where the corner ends and a thin seam appears. If you protect the corner well, then the seam (the R section) isn't so intimidating.
The moves here are less than dynamic and require solid concentration, balance, and commitment. But if you have good feet and can trust smearing a little (using your legs really helps here), then the tough series of moves (about 10 feet worth) are over before you know it. It helps that this is fairly low-angle, as there is a section where one is clearly depending little on hands and more on feet that absolutely must stick, but what makes this "R" is that the fall would be nasty; likely sliding straight down over a roof and alongside a corner after that. I'm not talking about big, flying whippers, just awkward and uncomfortable slides into unavoidable objects. Anyway, "PBR" took command of this climb like he had nearly everything else throughout the week and handled it with ease. I felt a bit thin on second, but managed it without incident. "Ratherbe" was also strong bringing up the rear (there's a good series of pics of her coming up this section when you click the link for photos at the bottom).

Pitch Three (5.6) - 120 Feet - Gear Anchor - Greg led

The Supertopo says this is 120 feet, but it felt much less than this (90 feet maybe?) because I was at the top in no time. There are many options on this climb to make this interesting, but essentially the route goes up the crack to the boulders, and then up over the boulderes
to the top. The variations come at the top where the boulders are. Either climb easier ground to the left, 5.6ish ground straight up, or harder to the far right. I chose the blocky section with the offwidths just for fun, which I must say is unusual for me considering my lack of love for cracks. However, the stuff to the left appeared too easy to seem interesting, and so I made an executive decision that the route went through the blocks to the top. My apologies for not having a good picture of the start of this pitch, but you can see the blocks in the above picture of "Ratherbe" coming up on second.

Descent: Fade down the slabs to the left and find the path that will take you back right toward the ankle-breaker path.

Accessory Dogs (5.10a) - 90 Feet - Mixed Bolts and Gear - Quick-Clip Anhcor - All led

Approach: Start at the path from parking spot #8 and follow the path to telephone pole 2569. Take that right and head up to the base of the cliff. At the base, look for a series of bolts on the face just as the path turns up to the right.

Accessory Dogs: This was a fun climb, though maybe poorly bolted. It is a thin-feeling route with some fun moves that'll make you think before you commit. All the moves are fairly easy, however, enough so that
I wonder if this is a 5.10. I struggle with this a lot. It seems that 5.10 is often easier than 5.9, and I'm not saying just outside either, but inside as well (because I'm well aware of the reason why many 5.9s really are harder than 5.10s outside - due to the now defunct decimal system formally establishing 5.9 as being the hardest possible climb, and older routes not being regraded as a result of the expanded system). For me, a 5.8 often feels like good holds and good moves. A 5.9 feels like good holds with crappy moves, and it is often awkward enough to make me grunt or sweat. A 5.10a often has good holds and good moves, too, but the moves require a bit more commitment and are spaced apart more than on a 5.8. It's difficult for me to say this route is soft because the moves don't feel as easy as 5.8, but they are certainly aren't awkward either. I find them to be very clean and easy, yet committing. I guess it really is 5.10 despite my feelings that this could be a very nice, un-awkward, 5.9 if one wants to look at it that way.

To climb this route, head up to the third bolt, and traverse left about three feet before moving up again. Once around the arrete, clip the fourth bolt and climb the corner straight up to the easy-clip anchors. We all led this succesfully, though "Ratherbe" was fairly tired and glad to have this as our final climb of the trip.

I guess the good thing about ending at this time was that the sun was getting hot, and we knew we were going to have to repack everything in the parking lot, which was devoid of shade for the most part. But all in all, the trip was OK. It wasn't fantastic. It wasn't a complete waste of time. It was OK. There were personal differences that were occassionally overcome, climbing deficiencies and achievements that added flavor, and a bit of learning, too. No one parted ways with a gold medal, and no one walked away any lesser of a person than upon arrival. I personally learned some things that I hope to post in my summary later on. Most of what I learned were reinforcements of assumptions I had already held regarding personal pursuits and ethics, and I'm not sure most people are going to agree with me. In fact, I expect a bit of a backlash, and my critics may be correct and it may turn out that my current beliefs are misguided, but I'm not so sure of that. As with anything, I'm sure there will be a little bit of pure disagreement mixed with a dash of inarticulation, with both shaken together with inexperience, ego, bold proclamations, and misiniformation to create a debate well worth thinking about. Oh well. That's life, and if part of our reason for being here isn't to learn and grow, well then, what the hell are we here for?

In the meantime, The Ramones spelled out essentially how I felt just moments before hopping in the car to Sacremento:

Twenty-twenty-twenty-four hours to go
I wanna be sedated
Nothing to do, no where to go, oh
I wanna be sedated

Just get me to the airport, put me on a plane
Hurry hurry hurry, before I go insane
I can't control my fingers, I can't control my brain
Oh no oh oh oh oh

Just put me in a wheelchair, get me on a plane
Hurry hurry hurry, before I go insane
I can't control my fingers, I can't control my brain
Oh no oh oh oh oh

Just put me in a wheelchair, get me to the show
Hurry hurry hurry, before I go loco
I can't control my fingers, I can't control my toes
Oh no oh oh oh oh

Just put me in a wheelchair, get me to the show
Hurry hurry hurry, before I go loco
I can't control my fingers, I can't control my toes
Oh no oh oh oh oh

Ba-ba-baba, baba-ba-baba, I wanna be sedated
Ba-ba-baba, baba-ba-baba, I wanna be sedated
Ba-ba-baba, baba-ba-baba, I wanna be sedated
Ba-ba-baba, baba-ba-baba, I wanna be sedated



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Thursday, July 17, 2008

Lover's Leap Day Three: Chasing Osman



The unfortunately irrevocable Dan Osman climbed the 400ft Bear's Reach at Lover's Leap in four minutes and 25 seconds. Let that settle for just a few minutes.
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Bear's Reach (5.7 with a 5.9 variation finish) - Three Pitches - Trad Gear Anchors - All three led

Approach:

Turn of Highway 50 onto Strawberry Drive next to the Strawberry Lodge. Drive up the road and turn left onto Strawberry Court. Follow the signs to the parking lot. If camping, park in the assigned spot and pay for camping. If not, park in the extra parking and pay for daily parking.

Head up the steps as if going to Campsites 19 or 20 and bear left. Follow the ankle-breaking, rocky path for several minutes. Lover's Leap will be on your right and the back side of Hogsback will be on your left. You'll go past a large boulder with a gurney leaning against it (there's also a sign describing the history of the boulder nearby). After a few minutes of walking past that, start looking for a large, low-angle, slabby boulder on your left. The path is directly across from that boulder, and it goes up toward the left side of Lover's Leap. Watch out for rattlesnakes in the bushes and on the path. We didn't see any, but they are apparently there. Head right and walk along the narrow path for a few minutes until you come to a couple of disconnected right-facing corners. The first one you come to will be about 12 feet off the ground. The second one is the start of the route and about eight feet to the right. There is a blank-looking gap of about eight feet between the top of the lower, right-hand corner and the bottom of the upper corner on the left.

Pitch One (5.7) - 120 feet - Gear Anchor - Greg Led

Is it possible to even come close to the heights of adventure and imagination that Dano reached? Maybe, but only if you're a pro with a mind bent on doing the unthinkable. I'm not sure many people have tried, and I'm even less sure that's because his heights were unreachable. He left behind a legacy that seems to be untouchable if only because the climbing world is still in mourning; it's as if no one tries to emulate him simply because he already existed and, as a result, there is no need to replace him. He was irreplaceable, and my climbing style in no way threatens his mystique. I think anyone who has ever climbed with me can assert without a doubt that I tell the truth uninhibitedly.

To climb the first pitch, one must climb the lower corner, ensuring to protect this well as near the top as you can, then traverse left across the blank face (not as bad as it looks, but if you fall here then there is ground-fall potential). Protect the upper corner as soon as you can and move up it and past the juggy left-facing corner / flakes to a small belay stance. Use the upper, right-hand, diagonal crack as an anchor (beware of the loose flake the left). Large gear will be needed at the top. I had a 3.5 and 3.0 Camalot with me, and both were used. I could have used more than the one each that I had on me at the time.

Like any climb that requires complete confidence in my abdominal strength, or at least the ability to commit to a move that isn't totally secure, I bounced up and down on a few of the moves each time things got a little heady for me. Let's be clear, unless it's a crack, I don't feel heady on 5.7s, but this route had some interesting rock that made me think twice more than once. For one, the rock seemed eerily brittle. Two, one really can't climb this without completely committing to this brittle rock. Three, the guidebook warns folks about this choss by noting how an unlucky chap trusted his belay anchor a bit too much and fell to his death. Yeah, and Dano climbed this free-solo in 4.5 minutes. Let that sink in again, especially as I note that it probably took me a good 4.5 minutes just to get past the upper right-facing corner and into the flakes. I admit, I was afraid of ground fall, and despite the grades on each pitch, I almost never felt secure on this route. It wasn't until the very end at the 5.9 variation finish where I felt OK committing to a move that felt hard, and that's because the 5.9 finish was on a solid chunk of rock that I didn't foresee going anywhere anytime soon.

Pitch Two (5.7) - 120 feet - Gear Anchor - "Ratherbe" led

Climb straight up the crack where the anchor is, and avoid the flake directly to the left. Climb the short left-facing corner / flake and step left into the blank section below the right-facing flakes. Make the bear's reach move up and left to the base of the flake, and then follow that to a ledge near the top. Note that there is a smaller ledge below the actual, larger belay ledge. I actually think the crux is the move that gains the upper ledge.

Despite the fact that "PBR" led the final, 5.9 variation, I think this was not only the money-pitch, but also the headiest of all three pitches. I give major kudos to "Ratherbe" for pulling this pitch off, and it's not even because of the "Bear's Reach" move, which seemed mild in relation to it's reputation. If I felt insecure on the lower flakes, then I would have freaked out leading the flakes on the second pitch. Nothing felt attached to the rock here. It was a serious challenge for me, and I was the third for this pitch. Neither "Ratherbe" nor "PBR" felt as uncomfortable as I did, so it may have just been the status of my head that morning, but I wouldn't have fallen on this section to save my life. And to note Dan Osman's feat even more, there is an outtake of the above video that shows him falling and catching himself at some point on the route. The fall looks a bit contrived and controlled, but to even fake a fall here is pretty damn ballsy.

Pitch Three (5.9 - alternate finish) - 120 feet - Gear Anchor - "PBR" led

Head straight up the corner and cracks to the top, looking for hidden jugs most of the way up. The easier finish is to the right with the 5.9 finish being the layback / beached whale crack high-step at the very top. Both "Ratherbe" and "PBR" managed to high-step and mantle this. I, on the other hand, looked like the fatty I am and slid my way up more like a slug than a whale. I'm glad "PBR" finished here, as it made for a nice final move.

Descent: Head straight back from the cliff's edge and fade left a bit, heading downhill into a clearing of the taller trees. Follow the path down to the left, keeping the small creek (if it's flowing) to your right without crossing over it. The path will bring you back down to the original, ankle-breaker approach trail at the bottom.

Knapsack Crack (5.5) - Three Pitches - 320 feet - Trad - Simul Climb on "PBR"'s lead

Well, just because we didn't match Dano on Bear's Reach that didn't mean we weren't out to topple his legacy once and for all. I mean, how much talent does it really take to get speed climb a route over 400 feet tall? We thought and thought about this for a while until "PBR" spoke up about a possible route on the left side of Hogsback. He noted that it was only 300 feet or so, but it was tall enough for us to take our swings at Osman's amazing achievement. Since speed was "PBR"'s forte, we followed him to the base of this wondrous climb and racked up.

Approach: This climb is on the far left of Hogsback. Hike out the trail across from parking spot #19 (turn left at the top of the stairs) and follow the ankle-breaker trail with the back of Hogwild and Hogsback to your left and Lover's Leap to your right. You'll follow this path for several minutes, looking for a small path that leads uphill and off to the left before turning right. This path is nearly as far down as the path to the left side of Lover's Leap, and it is not marked well. In fact, there is a smaller path on the left that you'll probably see first and wonder if this is the the correct one to take. It likely is not the correct path. I guess the easiest way to know this path is if you see the large, slabby boulder across from the right-hand path leading to Lover's Leap, then you've gone too far, by about 50 feet or so. Once on the path, follow it as it starts left and turns right and eventually to the slabs around Hogsback to the talus field. Look for a tree that is about a third of the way up the cliff.

All three pitches

Start at the right-facing corner and head to the tree that would likely make the first belay station if you stop there. From there, head straight up to the wide crack and then to the top.

"PBR" took the lead, I tied in the middle, and "Ratherbe" brought up the rear. Within minutes, before I could remember to snap a picture of the route we were about to smash all speed records on, "PBR" was a half rope length up and I was not far from being dragged up behind him. Within minutes, nay seconds, "Ratherbe" was running and cleaning all at the same time. I did all I could to keep the rope slack above me and tight below me, but they were each too fast for me to even think about the consequences of stopping to catch my breath. Hand over hand, and foot over foot, I labored just to keep myself from falling off. Ever run up a wall as fast as you could just to see how high you could get? Well all that teenage training from hanging out in the parking lot of Don's Shop N Save in downtown Bar Harbor was finally paying off. It was if I were an old drunkard who would die if he tried to dry out; once I stopped, I wasn't starting back up. The momentum was too great to regenerate, especially when "PBR" reached the top. At that point I realized that the rest of the climb was straight enough for me to clean the remaining gear, leaving "Ratherbe" with nothing to do but fly to the top. Finally, when we all reached the top, when we were all dying of an extreme shortage of breath, when our muscles no longer flexed to reach upward and instead twitched in anticipation of the collision that would halt all movement, we looked upon our watches and noted our time:

- "PBR": It took me about 13 minutes
- "Ratherbe": When did you start?
- "PBR": I forget
- Greg: When did you start, "Ratherbe"?
- "Ratherbe": Seventeen minutes ago.
- "PBR": So what is that then, 20 minutes, 25 minutes?
- "Ratherbe": Uh, so you climbed for 13 minutes, and I climbed for 17 minutes and -
- Greg: We need to know how long he was climbing when you started, right?
- "PBR": Uhhh...
- "Ratherbe": Uhhh...
- Greg: So take the difference between the two and add them together, 21 minutes?
- "PBR": Huh?
- "Ratherbe": Whaaaa?
- Greg: Yeah, yeah, no, wait, add the two together, so that's 30 minutes and subtract the difference. Yeah, so that's 26 minutes?
- "PBR": Uhhh...
- "Ratherbe": Uhh...
- Greg: Uhhh...
- "PBR": Errr...
- "Ratherbe": Thirteen and 17 and you started when again?
- "PBR": Thirteen minutes before I stopped.
- Greg: Yeah, that's 26 minutes.
- "PBR" and "Ratherbe" (looking at Greg strangely): Huh?
- Greg: Yeah, so, just add -
- "PBR": Huh?
- "Ratherbe": OK, whatever.
- Greg: Yeah, divide our time by three, take the standard deviation under the variance to get the zscore, add the two together and multiply by the circumfr - no the radius...
- "PBR": It's hot up here, let's go.

Descent:

It was hot, and so our day was finished, except for the wonderful egg noodles and canned salmon that awaited us back at the campsite. We headed down the slabs on the backside, fading left until we met the path we had taken up, and walked slowly back to camp. Our day included a slow climb on a famous speed route, and a speed climb on a route that could have been climbed even faster than our actual time, whatever that was (either way, we were no match for a legend). The next day was our last day, and as we sat around the campfire, I began formulating my thoughts on the entire trip and how I was going to summarize my experience. I'll leave you with a hint of my thoughts, even if I don't make the precise comparison later on when I actually write it: there are rules, and there is adventure, and they cannot exist in their purest forms together.

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Monday, July 14, 2008

Lover's Leap Day Two: Frying Times

Two things surprised me the most when it came to my trip west: the effects of altitude and the heat.

I'll start by saying that I played "This Monkey's Gone to Heaven" by the great Boston band The Pixies (see above) just as I started this (and a few times over and over again). Not that there's anything linked to the song and my below post. I was just fixated on that one song (well, I did listen to "Karma Police" once or twice, too). Actually, I listened to most songs above LOUDLY. It was so me and I enjoy being me. Ten points to anyone who can correctly guess all songs and artists in order (I know it's not fair to do artists due to covers, but I need a random tiebreaker and that's going to be it). Anyway... (lyrics not in any particular order and don't mean a thing with regards to the context around them)...

I've always been a little pudgy around the waist. Even back when I was playing baseball in college, and was in the gym and / or at practice two to three times per day, I had a difficult time keeping up with the prettier boys with ripped chests and abs. The last time I was at a reasonable weight was my senior year in high school when I was 25 pounds less at a whopping 150, which, off the subject a bit, is what my doctor says my body was meant to handle because I stopped growing at age 18 (I'm trying, but it ain't easy). However, despite my chubbiness I have always had a good heart when it came to endurance. I used to be able to, and probably still could today, play basketball for hours on end, and that was after practice. Games upon games were pounded out as players came and went. When practice ended at three or four in the afternoon, I stuck around and played until nine or 10. Of course, my ability diminished over the hours of hard pounding and running, but I still managed to find a style of play that allowed me to keep going. A formerly dislocated knee cap that folded during my last time ever climbing in at Edinburgh's Alien Rock (where my climbing life blossomed after a catastrophic day at Rosyth Quarry my very first time climbing) has kept me from running for the most part, but I can still bike and not feel the need to stop, and it is only my sore feet that keep me from walking until I collapse.
Got killed by 10 million pounds of sludge from New York and New Jersey

Another odd fact about my health is that I have the odd sensation of not being hungry while exercising. I can go an entire day of climbing, even after a small breakfast that consists only of a single muffin, and not be hungry and / or eat a single item throughout the day. In fact, I'm rarely hungry after climbing to the point where I could split a bag of rice and a can of chicken with a friend and be just fine (so long as I have a small bag of M&Ms to take care of the salty taste in my mouth). I only eat a Cliff bar for lunch most days because I know I should eat, not because I'm hungry.

Another, final, contributor to my odd metabolism is that I just don't get hungry when hot. For some reason, I eat like a pig during the winter (well, my body is telling me to eat because it gets cold easily) and hardly eat during the summer (this summer being an unfortunate aberration). All of the above factors continued to not surprise me throughout the week in Yosemite and at Lover's Leap, but I was astounded at just how heavy I was breathing during hikes and quick climbing sections. I was also amazed at how energy sapping the heat was despite the fact that I still felt strong. I never felt out of shape, but I did feel as if I should have felt out of shape. It was all very weird.
Everything is going to burn, we'll all take turns

Better with Bacon (5.8) - Four pitches - Bolted Anchors - Mixed climbing - Various leaders

Approach: From the parking lot, take the path at the #8 parking spot and follow the path to the last talus field on this half of Hogsback. Head up the talus field, fade right to where the path ends, and start just to the left of the top of the trail below a thin crack that diagonals left.

We actually took a slightly different path in. When we came to telephone pole #2569, we turned right toward the right-hand side of the cliff. We then had to traverse along the side of the cliff, over the first two talus fields (they may be the same field separated only by bushes), and through thick brush to finally make our way to the base of the climb. It is possible to do this, but there are no continuous paths along the base. I recommend staying below the base until it is time to head straight up to the climb in order to avoid bushwhacking and rattlesnakes (not that we encountered any).
If the devils is six, then GODDD IS HEAVEN!

Pitch One (5.6) - 100 feet - Trad (need micronuts) - Bolted Anchor - "PBR" led

We started our day fairly early in the morning when it was still cool and little sun on the rock. Lover's Leap is great for this during the warm summer months; the the cliffs are in the shade until well into the late morning and there seemed to be a nice breeze moving through the shallow valleys. This was great because we had just been hounded by the heat the past few days in Yosemite, and we really needed to be able to climb without fighting sunburns, dehydration, and the lack of energy wrought by humidity.

This climb was way oversold in the SuperTopo. The guidebook has this wonderful picture of a thin finger crack that fades across a blank face on the first pitch. When we all saw the picture the day before, we thought this was going to be a great climb, especially me who loves face climbs and had just had his ass handed to him in The Valley. To be fair, the first pitch was kind of fun, but it was also 5.6 and where the crack was too thin to use there were other holds on the face to rely on instead. It was at a low angle, too, so even when the feet weren't there they were still there. To climb this pitch, follow the crack until it ends below the large edge where the bolts are. Be careful at the ledge with the loose rocks.

One funny story to tell happened just as "PBR" had clipped his first piece. "Ratherbe" was belaying and I was stashing our stuff off the path when we heard a large animal coming toward us through the bushes. We both looked at ourselves with worried eyes and turned our attentions to the fast moving bushes as they shook closer and closer to us. We watched each branch move all the other nearby branches from one tree to the next up the path that we should have walked up if we had taken the proper approach. I was worried because we hadn't taken the proper path and had taken the bushwhacked approach instead. The worrisome part was that maybe we had awoken a bear or something while rummaging through the bushes that was patiently and intelligently awaiting us to be at our most vulnerable in order to steal an easy snack (I hoped he wasn't looking for a full meal). As the noise got louder and louder, and the moving bushes got closer and closer, we finally saw the the black fur rise above the top of the bushes. I looked at "Ratherbe" and she looked at me with wide eyes. We were collectively silently saying, "do we just run and leave "PBR" hanging?" This sucker was close, too. It wasn't like the bear we saw at Bishop's Terrace (5.8), which was maybe 50 yards away. As the animal go closer, "Ratherbe" looked worryingly up at "PBR" who, in a moment of calm from as a result of having a higher vantage point, looked down on us and the large animal and said, "Yeah, make sure you put the bag up high enough for the dog not to get it, too, not just the squirrels." He turned around, placed his next piece and move upward without hesitation. "Ratherbe" and I looked at each other with holy-fuck grins on our faces while the friendly retriever came up to me and stuck his head under my now outstretched petting hand.
Ever fallen in love with someone, ever fallen in love, in love with someone, ever fallen in love with someone you shouldn't have fallen in love with?

Pitch Two (5.6) - 80 feet - Mixed - Bolted Anchor - "Ratherbe" led
For a minute yeah, I lost myself, I lost myself

Climb straight up to the second bolt and then fade right toward the next ledge and anchor. This is the pitch where it begins to be less of a trad route and more of a slabby sport route.

Pitch Three (5.8) - 90 feet - Mixed (mostly sport) - Bolted Anchor - Greg led
You turn me on, you lift me up, like the sweetest cup I share with you

Despite this pitch being the graded pitch of the climb, it is not the money-pitch. That distinction goes to the first pitch and the fun finger crack. Although, I have to say that I did enjoy parts of this climb. It was a bit run out, something I am kind of beginning to enjoy, and yet bolted appropriately. The only disappointment was that it was a one-move wonder.
You have never been in love until you've seen the sunrise behind the home for the blind

Head straight up the bolts to the roof (crux) and trust the hand holds while making a high-step up. This move is well protected by the easy-to-clip-from-below bolt that is above the roof. The anchors are not far above the roof.

Pitch Four (5.7) - 80 feet - Mixed - Bolted Anchor - "PBR" led

Another pitch that was both nice and too easy at the same time. Head over the series of of small roofs / bulges and into a right-facing corner. Follow the corner up and find the anchors on a small ledge to the left. I played around some as third because "Ratherbe" had cleaned most of the gear ahead of me. The slabs to the right are fun if you're into that sort of stuff.

Descent: We rapped in two goes to the bottom with two 60m ropes. A 50m rope should not be difficult to navigate, as there are rap rings at each station.
And I'm free to decide, and I'm not so suicidal after all

Hogwild (5.7) - 110 feet - Mixed - Bolted Anchor - Greg and "Ratherbe" led

After we rapped off "Better With Bacon," we headed down the talus field to a climb that "PBR" said he couldn't stop giggling on the last time he was at the Leap a couple of years before. It was a single pitch 5.7 that was just right for him, and he wanted to share it with "Ratherbe" and I before the end of the day.
Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours to go I wanna be sedated

Approach: Start at the path from parking spot #8 and follow the path to telephone pole 2569. Take that right and head up to the base of the cliff. At the base, head left and find the large, obvious, dirty left-facing corner (you'll be below it somewhat when you first see it). Head up the path to the upper level and find the shallow right-facing corner.
Since you said goodbye polka dots fill my eyes, and I don't know why

Look for two bolts within the first twenty feet and follow the bolts to the anchor at the top. This can be rapped with two 60m ropes. Otherwise lowering requires a 70m rope. "Ratherbe" led this first and then "PBR" seconded. They both came down and then I led the route. I really think this could be a sport route if you're comfortable leading 5.7. I think I placed two pieces of gear the entire way up. Or maybe it was just me beginning to feel OK running out sections that I'm pretty comfortable with. Neither "Ratherbe" nor "PBR" would have run out the top the way that I did, but I felt fine, even as the moves became increasingly more difficult.
Everybody move your feet and feel united, ohhh-ohhh-OH!

The typically-Greg story here is that I was going to rap off and clean the route on my way down...except that I forgot my belay device at the bottom ("why do I need my belay device," I thought as I removed all the heavy gear off my harness before climbing, "it's just extra weight"). That was a stupid thing to do, and it wasn't the first time I had done it either. But, since I was up there and had no place to go, I started thinking of what I needed to do next in order to get down. I initially had a brain cramp and suggested that they lower me as if I was on TR, but of course that wouldn't have worked because the knot in the two ropes wouldn't have passed through the gear. The best solution was for me to pull one of the ropes up through the highest piece it was clipped to, drop the end to the bottom, have them tie my ATC to the rope, and have me pull it all the way up again. Naturally, this went about as smoothly as Biz Markie singing his only hit (thank God) "Just a Friend." Firstly, I I had clipped both ropes on separate bolts fairly high near the top (after the run-out section). So I essentially had to pull the rope all the way up just to drop it to have the ATC tied to it. Well, that's not so bad. After all, its only about 100 feet at that point. The bummer? When I pulled one of the ropes up, just as it was a few feet below the last piece, it got stuck in a crack and I couldn't shake it out. Still, that was OK because I could free it on the rap down. The real bugger, however, was that the second rope ran up the same crack and it appeared that it would become stuck in a lower section from the way it was resting. If that happened, then I was screwed. I'm sure I would have figured something out, but I wasn't sure what I was going to do. Thankfully the second rope didn't get caught and I was able to drop the rope no problem. I was still worried that maybe the ATC would get caught on the way up, but it was a hassle-free ride the rest of the way, despite the fact that it was a royal bitch to get the first rope free of the crack on my way down. But it was eventually OK and we were able to head back to the car just as the sun started to bear down on us.

The song on my music player above as I type this couldn't be more appropriate: I'll stop the world and melt with you. I've noted in previous posts how warm it was in Yosemite. We had hoped that Lover's Leap would provide some respite from the heat, but that was not to be. It was approaching mid-day at this point and "PBR" was getting sapped by the sun. I was OK, but I wanted to stay out of the sun in case I got burned ("PBR" and "Ratherbe" will likely laugh as they read this because I had a sunscreen on that was so thick I couldn't rub it in all the way. I spent the better part of my vacation looking like Casper the Friendly Ghost). "Ratherbe" was feeling the heat a bit, and so we decided we needed to rest during what we figured would be the hottest part of the day: the mid-to-late afternoon. So we decided that if we were going to stop then we should go get ice cream from the famous Strawberry Lodge down the road. We hopped in the car and headed down the road to enjoy a hot fudge sundae (me), waffle cone ice cream ("Ratherbe"), and a root beer float ("PBR"). We hung out on the front porch in the shade slowly licking away our relief and watching the world go by until a guy who I swear looked just like someone I took a trip to the Adirondacks with last summer ("Jesus"). This guy kept saying that he had family in Boston, too, but I never asked. We talked, rested, talked some more, sat in the shade, drank water, and all that cool kind of stuff you do when you have nothing to do but do all that cool kind of stuff when you're doing nothing at all. It was fun, but it didn't last all day because "Ratherbe" and I still wanted to get some climbing in that afternoon.

Soon after we finished our treat, "PBR" indicated that he couldn't take the heat the rest of the day and needed to rest up. That left "Ratherbe" and I to climb together the rest of the afternoon, and I suggested that we go back to do Haystack (5.8) just because I thought she'd enjoy the 'Gunks-like roof crux on the second pitch.

Haystack (5.8) - Three pitches - Trad - Make your own anchors - Greg and "Ratherbe" Led

Approach:

Head up the steps as if going to Campsites 19 or 20 and bear left. Follow the ankle-breaking, rocky path for several minutes. Lover's Leap will be on your right and the back side of Hogsback will be on your left. You'll go past a large boulder with a gurney leaning against it (there's also a sign describing the history of the boulder nearby). After a few minutes of walking past that, start looking for a large, low-angle, slabby boulder on your left. The path is directly across from that boulder, and it goes up toward the left side of Lover's Leap. Watch out for rattlesnakes in the bushes and on the path. We didn't see any, but they are apparently there. Once you're at the wall, and very near where the path meets the wall, there will be a series of ordinary right-facing corners that are very close to each other. There is another right-facing corner that is about 10 feet to the right of these corners. The start of the climb is at at the right-most corner of the series of corners. You will be in between the series and the one that is 10 feet away.
He'll rekindle all the dreams, it took you a lifetime to destroy, he'll reach deep into the hole, heal your shrinking soul, But there wont be a single thing, that you can do

I really noticed the altitude here. I was OK earlier in the morning because we were walking on a relatively flat path most of the way, but once I hit any uphill hike, I began to breathe heavily and felt the need to slow down more than usual. I wasn't tired, and that's the odd thing. The sun may have sapped a bit of my energy, but that wasn't what was causing me to heave. By the time I got to the base of the climb I was completely out of breath and needed a few minutes to drink and bring my breathing repetitions back to normal.
A new royal family, a wild nobility, we are the family

Pitch One Variation (5.8) - 140 feet - Trad - Gear Anchor - Greg Led

When I climbed this route the day before with "Elron" he climbed the corner instead of the face to the right of the corner. This left-hand direct start is 5.6, but if you climb a bit to the right and more out on the face then you'll get into a series of 5.8 moves, one of which turned into a slight mantle with a high-step after the initial mantle push. This was fun for me because because the mantle took place about five feet above my last piece and finished with a no-hands squat-then-stand after I got my feet up from the mantle and high-step. It was thrilling because I knew I could climb this section well, but it was also a bit nerve wracking because I wasn't expecting to have to make such a tricky move that finished with my shoulders a good 12 feet above my last piece. Had I slipped, it would have been my biggest trad fall ever.

I didn't feel any of the effects of altitude on this first pitch because I was moving fairly slowly (a normal trait of mine that I use to ensure I don't fuck myself), but it was warm, and the entire cliff was drenched in sun the with no chance for shade anywhere. The Leap does get cooler the higher up one goes, but don't stick around too long unless you've got pores like a hoolahoop holds water and enough chalk to become a magnesium trader on the Salt Lake Commodities Exchange, and I don't really sweat much.

Continue climbing up toward a ledge that is about 20-30 feet below the roof that makes the secon pitch crux.
Smear this man across the wall, like strawberries and cream, it's the only way to be

Pitch Two (5.8) - 110 Feet - Trad - Gear Anchor - "Ratherbe" Led

This is the pitch that I struggled on the day before with "Elron". I've noted my struggles on roofs before, but "Ratherbe" always seems OK with them. I guess some people just have a knack and others don't. I would have led this pitch again on this day, too, but I wanted to give this money-pitch to her so that she could enjoy the wonders of this great climb. And she did well, despite the fact that she was disappointed with herself for whining. I told her later that I don't feel that whining is such a bad thing, especially if you stick it out and climb the route clean, which she did. All whining does it get you to verbalize what you're already thinking anyway. Shoot, I whine when I don't crap easily. I just don't see it as a big deal.

For this pitch, climb straight up to the roof, clipping the pin in the crack below the roof. Exit the roof to the left (not over) and climb the awkward crack above. Make sure the only piece that you place in the roof is a medium-sized cam on the farthest outside section of the crack so as to avoid rope drag the rest of the way up. Head up to two stacked right-facing corners and climb the second one (the smaller one to the right) up about mid-way to a small ledge with good gear in the crack.

This is where I started breathing heavy on the climb. I don't know what happened, but I suspect that I started breathing heavily because I wasn't leading. This happened to me the day before, too, with "Elron". I guess I move more quickly when seconding (which makes sense when you think about it) and that doesn't allow me to settle down and let me breathe normally. Despite the fact that I climbed this pitch cleanly and more gracefully this time, I was really out of breath by the time I got over the roof, and for the first time I felt as if it was taking away my strength. Note, this wasn't taking away my energy, but my actual pulling and pushing strength instead. It was a weird feeling and probably my first time experiencing the effects of altitude where it actually affected my climbing. I noticed it the day before, but it didn't take away from my ability to climb, so it didn't feel like much exertion except for the hike up to the cliff. This pitch was different, and I wonder what I could have done differently except to maybe slow down and drink more water beforehand.
When I used to go out, I would know everyone that I saw, now I go out alone if I go out at all

Pitch Three (5.6) - 165 feet - Trad - Gear Anchor - Greg led

I was looking forward to leading this pitch after seconding it the day before with "Elron" because it has some fun climbing and is not as challenging as it may appear. Essentially head straight up to the top and fade left over two more roofs. The first roof is more easily gained by rocking left instead of going over the roof itself. The second roof has a nice high-step that isn't as hard as it initially looks. Gear is difficult to find up at the top for the anchor, so be creative. My anchor was solid, but it wasn't pretty and relied on a large chockstone for two of the three pieces.
I want to break your heart and give you mine

Descent: There are many paths leading down to the main walk-off path. Basically head back away from the edge of the cliff to a clearing in the wooded area and follow the path down left, keeping the stream to your right (if it's flowing). Don't cross over the stream even if it looks as if the trail goes in that direction. "Elron" and I took the proper path down, but "Ratherbe" and "PBR" took a much longer path back the day before because they crossed the stream after topping out on The Line (5.9).
It's another, night out with the boss, following in footsteps overgrown with moss, and they tell me that women grow on trees, And if you catch them right they will land upon their knees

So that ended another succesful day at Lover's Leap. We did eight pitches in all, with some fun moderate slab climbing and a some stiffer roofs, cracks and corners, too. I was thoroughly enjoying myself at the Leap, moreso than I did in The Valley, and I couldn't wait until the next day when we were going to take a shot at Dan Osman's famous speed climb of Bear's Reach (5.7). But before you leave, remember to name all the songs quoted above. No cheating now!

Click here for all Lover's Leap photos

Sunday, July 06, 2008

Lover's Leap Day One: Making The Leap Away From Crack


With the success of the previous day behind us and leaving a good feeling in my head and chest, we got up early and headed out of The Valley toward Lover's Leap in Strawberry, California. But we didn't head off without a few stops along the way.

The first stop was near the base of El Cap. Sure, anyone can say they stopped and saw El Cap, but it was important to me because I'm a complete nut job when it comes to sitting in the front passenger's seat of a car. This isn't because I ride with lousy drivers. It's because I'm used to my own reactions and if someone doesn't break when I expect them to, my right foot forcefully slams down on the floor in front of me. The same goes for body language and the occasional, accidental swerve. "Ratherbe" has more than once declared that I'm a stressful person to drive with, moreso when I'm not driving.

Anyway, we had to stop to see El Cap on the way out because I couldn't see it on the way in due to my need / desire to ride in the backseat. I have to admit that while it certainly is impressive, it's not visually appealing. It's understandable why Half Dome gets the art awards and El Cap does not. But still, it's also understandable why El Cap gets all the climbing attention: it has an obvious edge over Half Dome with regards to the approach, it is taller from the base to the top, and it also gets the I'm-not-as-pretty-as-you-but-I'm-still-better award due to its glory route: The Nose. We only stopped for a few minutes, but I was glad to have had a chance to view what is widely considered the trophy wall in all of rock climbing.

Our second stop was actually several stops, all of which were in Tuolumne Meadows. This was was a bittersweet part of the trip for me. While I was interested in climbing in The Valley and at Lover's Leap, I was mostly interested in climbing in Tuolumne, particularly the Northwest Buttress, a 14-pitch 5.5 on Tenaya Peak and / or other long classics such as the Southeast Buttress on Cathedral Peak (five-pitch 5.6). However, there was a lot of uncertainty regarding the climbing and accommodations in Tuolumne. For one, the Tioga Pass and the road to the Meadows from The Valley had opened up only a week before we arrived. This obviously led to a lack of campgrounds that were open up in the Meadows, and we weren't sure how far we'd have to drive from the campgrounds that were outside of Yosemite National Park. We were also somewhat concerned about the cost of camping in this area as well as the cost of travelling in and out of the park each day. Our final concern was that of snow on the routes. The SuperTopo guidebook had warned that if there was snow on some of the routes to avoid those routes. Since none of us knew what to expect without actually going there first, and because we didn't feel confident enough to just show up, we decided that it was best to simply drive through and enjoy the views on our way to Lover's Leap. And this is what we did, with a couple of stops here and there to view to The Valley from above and the famous California Flake not far from the Bunny Slopes. We also had a bit of fun being distracted by a marmot. But, despite not being able to climb, I was glad that we had driven through the Meadows, and now I know what to expect when I go back again in the future.

Our third stop was a huge disappointment. Apparently there is a Mobile Station in Lee Vining that has the best fish tacos money can buy. I had decided not to eat much that morning just so I could buy some of these notorious and expensive fish tacos. Unfortunately, as it was commented later on, the east coast met the west coast: it was only 10am and they hadn't turned the fryers on! I just don't get this. I mean, 10am isn't that early. It's not so early that lunch can't be ordered. Still, they didn't have any of the lunch items available for order and that kind of ticked me off. I mean, here I am, out in the middle of nowhere, and we've stopped at this place specifically for the famous fish tacos, and they don't even realize that their food is so good that people are willing to buy lunch at 10am. And I'm sure you're asking right now why this is an East Coast vs West Coast thing. Below is my attempt at clarifying this comment:

West Coast:
- Me: Got any fish tacos?
- West Coast: Whaaa? It's only ten o'clock. We don't even have the fryers on yet.
- Me: When will they be on? Can you turn them on now?
- West Coast: Are you kidding?
- Me: No, can you throw them on? I hear your tacos are famous. I'd love to try some and I'm hungry.
- West Coast: The fryers aren't on this early. Sorry.

East Coast:
- Me: Got any fish tacos?
- East Coast: It's 10am buddy, but OK. If you want fish tacos at 10am then you're gonna get fish tacos at 10am. Fish tacos coming right up.

See the difference?

Our final stop was in Strawberry, California, but not without some excitement along the way, specifically gas excitement. I'm not sure what our gas situation was like as we pulled out of the Mobile station in Lee Vining, but I'm sure it was OK. We had a bit more time both in terms of what was in the tank and drive time before we had to think about filling up, so we left without tapping off the tank. Besides, the gas was over five dollars per gallon at this station and we figured it was likely the most expensive place around. Well, we drove for a while longer and noticed that our tank was getting low. There was another station along the way that was also more than five dollars per gallon, and so we pressed on with the belief that we'd come into a more populous area with cheaper gas. But of course, that was just wishful thinking. It turned out that the last place we passed by was, in fact, the last station for a while. Feeling a little apprehensive about what was ahead of us, we turned onto the pass that took us from the Mono Lake area toward the Lake Tahoe area. Up and up the hill we went. Around and around steep corners, slowly easing into them and slowly easing out so that we'd save gas we went some more. We realized that by the time we got about half-way up the hill the needle on the gas gauge was below empty, not at empty, but below it instead. The yellow light was on for a good 30 minutes while we spent extra gas on all the slow, steep uphills we encountered. It was a rather exciting time for us because we knew we were a long, long way from the closest station in the other direction and we had no clue what was ahead of us. "PBR" did a great job of ensuring that the speed of the car never changed despite the changes in the road (the turns and uphills), but his efforts never stopped worrying us. I don't think "Ratherbe"'s eyes ever left the dashboard on the way up. I know mine didn't, and I'm not too sure how often "PBR" was actually watching the road for the same reason. But as we peaked out on the hill, we breathed a tentative sigh of relief because we knew then that we could likely throw the thing in neutral and coast all the way the down into town, or whatever sign of civilisation there happened to be at the bottom. It's funny because as the angle of the car changed (we were going downhill now), the gas gauge tilted back such that it appeared as if we had about an eighth of a tank left. That didn't fool us, however, as we knew we were well within the confines of a potentially long walk. "PBR" later remarked that he had never been so happy to not be as excited as he was on the way up, and most people find the downhill part more exciting that the uphill part (think roller coaster, but for the emotionally distress instead).

Another twenty minutes or so passed by and we were at the bottom, but we still weren't out of our excitement zone. The needle was now just sitting on empty and we weren't sure how far away we were (though we felt we were within an hour or so from civilization). We turned on to the next main road and passed by several barren campgrounds that looked as if the people who were staying there were placed there on purpose just to make it look as if people were actually paying to stay there (think barrels of rocks topped off with grain in Communist Russia). The landscape was barren, too, with no signs of a presence of a larger community nearby. We finally drove by one particular campground and "Ratherbe" noted that this one had a gas pump out front. So we pulled in, and found one of those old mechanical pumps without a price on them. We were hesitant, but figured ten bucks would get us at least somewhere farther than no bucks would. All three of us needed to get up and stretch after a three-hour drive, so we slowly stood up and walked into the main store. I'm not sure who asked, but it was determined that the pump hadn't been working for years and that there was another pump down the road.

- One of us: Is it a real station or a pump like yours?
- Campground Guy: Oh, it's a real station. Might not be full, though.
- One of us: Might not be full?
- Campground Guy: Nope. It's not always full down there.
- One of us: How far down is it?
- Campground Guy: About twenty minutes, I'd say.
- One of us: Anything nearby after that if it's closed?
- Campground Guy: Nope. That's it for a while.
- All of us: GULP!

So we hopped back in the car and slowly drove down the road toward the next town. As he noted, it was a ways down the road, but we were on relatively flat ground at this point and so we felt as if we could make it twenty minutes despite being at or close to empty for about an hour already. When we finally did come into town, a very small town, to be clear, "PBR" brought the car to a near crawl as all three of us scoured the landscape around us in search of anything that looked like a pump. I even suggested looking closely at what appeared to be a town depot because there'd certainly be gas there for the local police cars and dumptrucks. Thankfully we didn't have to resort to begging or stealing from the government because we finally came across a small station that, while the sign said it was open, was closed but had the modern credit-card accepting pumps ready for use. Relieved that we were finally able to drive the rest of the way without the fear of burning too many calories while walking in the hot desert sun, we drove off to Strawberry with the hopes of getting on one climb before night set in.

As we neared Lover's Leap, we gave an old friend from New England a call to see if he could join us. "Elron" was one of the first people I had ever climbed outside with in Massachusetts. In fact, he and I met up at Crow Hill one day and were dutifully schooled by Steve Arsenault, an old-timer with many northeastern first ascents under his belt. "Elron" now lives near Lover's Leap, and we were happy that he was able to join us despite not having yet packed for a trip to Paris that he was taking with family...the next day. When we arrived, "Elron" and I paired up to do Haystack (5.8) while "PBR" and "Ratherbe" teamed up to do the ultra-classic route that everyone raves about at Lover's Leap: The Line (5.9) - a straight-as-an-arrow line from bottom to top. I didn't get on this despite being told that it was a must-do, but that's OK. I'm OK with leaving it for another day because the route that I got with "Elron" became one of my all-time favorites, so much so that I went back up it the next day with "Ratherbe".

Lover's Leap

Haystack (5.8) - Three pitches - Trad - Make your own anchors - Greg and "Elron" Led

Approach: Turn of Highway 50 onto Strawberry Drive next to the Strawberry Lodge. Drive up the road and turn left onto Strawberry Court. Follow the signs to the parking lot. If camping, park in the assigned spot and pay for camping. If not, park in the extra parking and pay for daily parking.

Head up the steps as if going to Campsites 19 or 20 and bear left. Follow the ankle-breaking, rocky path for several minutes. Lover's Leap will be on your right and the back side of Hogsback will be on your left. You'll go past a large boulder with a gurney leaning against it (there's also a sign describing the history of the boulder nearby). After a few minutes of walking past that, start looking for a large, low-angle, slabby boulder on your left. The path is directly across from that boulder, and it goes up toward the left side of Lover's Leap. Watch out for rattlesnakes in the bushes and on the path. We didn't see any, but they are apparently there. Once you're at the wall, and very near where the path meets the wall, there will be a series of ordinary right-facing corners that are very close to each other. There is another right-facing corner that is about 10 feet to the right of these corners. The start of the climb is at at the right-most corner of the series of corners. You will be in between the series and the one that is 10 feet away.

Pitch One (5.6) - 140 feet - Trad - Make your own anchor - "Elron" Led

Climb the corner straight up until a ledge that is about thirty feet below the roof crux of the second pitch. If anything, fade right as you go up so as to stay out of the very large, obvious right-facing corner that is to your left. This pitch offers really nice climbing. The crack made for nice gear and the corners and horizontal dikes (the key physical feature that makes Lover's Leap memorable) allow for nice stemming. All the holds are there all the way up, too. There are variations of this route to the right that can push the grade into the 5.8 range (I climbed this version the next day mainly because "Elron" meant to but mistakenly did the direct route. He told me the harder variation was more fun, and it was, but more on that in the next post). "Elron" led a nice pitch and put me in a great position to take on the money pitch next.

Pitch Two (5.8) - 110 Feet - Trad - Make your own anchor - Greg Led

I've said many times before how much I hate roofs. In fact, I've said it more than once. But I have to admit that I'm beginning to feel more comfortable with them. The more I do them the more I'm less afraid of them and more willing to take them on. I still prefer the long slabby face climbs that are sustained from bottom to top, but if the holds are there, I'm feeling more confident in my roof pulling ability. At the very least I'm beginning to feel more confident in falling or hanging from them. However, I'm still not a fan of cracks.

The second pitch follows the corner up to the base of the roof. From underneath the roof, clip the pin and climb the crack to the roof and stem left while using the finger crack (it's a deep crack for a good undercling lieback) to place gear in the far left, outer part of the crack / roof. This is important due to rope drag. I wouldn't place any gear before that. To gain the roof, don't go over it but reach left instead to a jug that is just left of the crack / roof and on the face to the left. Step left on small foot holds on the outer face and climb straight up above the roof. Once up another six or seven feet or so, you'll come across two stacked right-facing corners. Climb the right-hand corner (or the smaller one) to a nice ledge about mid-way up.

The first thirty feet or so offered very nice climbing with good gear. But once I got up to the roof, I realized that it wasn't going to be the roof that was going to give me problems, but the crack below it instead. My strategy when faced with such imposing climbs is to go up little by little and to retreat each time. The goal is to learn a little bit more about what is in front of me before committing. So often times I'll go up and down, up and down, up and down several times before finally going forward. Thankfully there was a small ledge that I could stand on after each investigation. I really don't like doing this sort of thing if there isn't a place to retreat to comfortably. Now, I knew "Elron" had to get back so that he could pack for his trip, but I just couldn't bring myself to climb what appeared to be a stiff section with little pro without feeling confident. I guess I went up into the crack four times before I finally said, "Fuck it," and placed a large cam below the roof (thus, giving me rope drag up above). It wasn't a great placement (though it would have held fine) so much as it was a confidence booster. I finally got all the way up into the roof and placed a few pieces of gear before I had to take. Upon hanging on what is the outermost piece of gear that you'll want to leave here, I cleaned the other gear I had placed behind it and scouted the next few moves after that.

Upon looking back, I'm not disappointed about hanging here. I probably could have stuck it out and climbed it clean, but I couldn't see for the life of me where to put my feet. I was able to see the footholds as soon as I hung, and from there the climbing was a bit awkward but easier than the roof. Despite the hang, though, I was really happy to have climbed that section. It was a very nice gift that "Elron" gave to me, and I'm always going to recommend this route to anyone who climbs here.

Pitch Three (5.6) - 165 feet - Trad - Make your own anchor - "Elron" led

This is a long pitch with some fun climbing that looks more challenging than it really is. Essentially just head straight up to the top and fade left over two more roofs. The first roof is more easily gained by rocking left instead of going over the roof itself. The second roof has a nice high-step that isn't as hard as it initially looks.

Descent: There are many paths leading down to the main walk-off path. Basically head back away from the edge of the cliff to a clearing in the wooded area and follow the path down left, keeping the stream to your right (if it's flowing). Don't cross over the stream even if it looks as if the trail goes in that direction. "Elron" and I took the proper path down, but "Ratherbe" and "PBR" took a much longer path back because they crossed the stream.

After "Elron" and I finished, we headed down to retrieve our gear. I also grabbed "PBR"'s and "Ratherbe"'s because they were still on The Line and the approach from the path to the base is a little heavy on the breathing. After that, I wished "Elron" a safe and happy trip to France before, and then I relaxed against the slab that marks the approach trail and watched my other two partners top out on the last pitch. Thirty minutes later we were in the car and heading toward the Strawberry Lodge for five-dollar showers and off to bed soon after that. All in all, this marked two-consecutive days of fun climbing, with Lover's Leap beating out Yosemite by just a hair climbing-wise and The Grack beating out Haystack atmosphere-wise by a hair.

Go to Greg's Route Index for more information about Lover's Leap

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