Nothing like a bit of choss to kick my booty

A year later and we returned. The heat wasn't so bad as last time, but the crowds were. I was thankful, though, that the man who had put up many of the routes was there to show me around.

It was a weekend off, but I wanted to get out. An evening fundraiser kept me from playing too hard, but an early start would suffice. We drove until the road narrowed, and then we drove some more until the speed slowed. We thought we had missed the new parking lot, but it was farther down.

I'm not sure why I brought my trad gear. I've always wanted to trad climb here but I've never been able to pull myself away from the bolts. The bolts led the way up too many nice lines. Sigh, they would have to do.

We chatted with a few friends and took a ride up an easy warm up. I'd done the route before but my partners were fresh meat. They lapped the horizontal ridge lines like a dog does with water from a bowl, and rightfully ignored the irrelevant mess on the floor after their first foray onto the grey and golden rock. It was busy over here, so we moved on.

The cave up the hill was cool, dark, and damp. I felt the nip of the air just as I approached the opening, and I slipped in. My eyes had a difficult time adjusting, but I knew where I was going. Hushed voices around to the left became louder as my feet met the daylight. I turned the corner and noticed one new route right away. There were folks on it, though, so I showed my partners around. There's the 12 something that clears the roof, and eight is around the corner, and that's a short nine right there to the right. It's a one-move wonder, but what a wonderful move it is.

One of my partners, the strongest of the three of us, found what looked like a nice line to the left of the nine. He clipped the draws to his harness and headed up. The start looked easy, but it wasn't. Then the middle was easy, but the next section was hard again: overhanging, juggy in the wrong spots and crimpy in the good spots. The feet pointed in the wrong direction and only a full leg bar in the roof itself allowed for any rest. He stretched long to clip the last bolt and topped out on thankfully easy terrain. Then another partner went up, and I after her. We flailed, but the man who put up many of the routes here came to join us. His barefoot climbing brought us shame, but we knew he was a better climber anyway.

It was late, and begging-for-money-from-the-generous was my next call of duty back home. We packed up, but before we left I asked the original climber a few questions. I was grateful to not only get his thoughts, but also a drawn map of the upper tier. He's a nice man and willing to show folks around so long as a guidebook isn't published any time soon. The climber's coalition owns the parking lot, and that's about it. The mortgage needs to be paid before the masses arrive, and there's no money to pay it. I like what they've done here, though. They've developed a nice series of crags, some bolts and some not. They've bought the parking lot in order to keep people from parking on private property. They've worked with the land owners and have developed a relationship that allows for climbing at such a good location. But most importantly, they've opened it up without opening too much. They've allowed people to come and enjoy without over-stepping their bounds. The money may not be there, but I hope it comes in. They've done this right, and I hope that continues.

We pulled out of the parking lot satisfied with our day. It was short, it kicked our butts, but then again, choss always seems to have the upper hand.

Click here for more Farley pics

A Lazy (my ASS) Saturday Climbing with Friends

Went back to the chosspile known as Farley yesterday with a few more people. Why would I bring more people to such a crappy climbing area after seeing what little it had to offer the first time? To make everyone feel my pain, that's why.

"KITT", "Ratherbe", "Gecko", "Gammie", "GGF", and I got up early and were essentially the first people there. The "Wall of Early Morning Sun" was as advertised, and we decided to play a bit on the sport climbs here before heading off in the afternoon to the shade where there are mostly trad climbs. None of the climbs here have names that I know (there is no guidebook), so the Farley posts will always be short summaries as opposed to detailed references.

We had a good time though. "Ratherbe" led a daring mixed route with some scary exposure at the top, and committing moves on difficult gear throughout, for her first climb. She thought it was a low 10, but "Gecko" and "KITT", who TR'd the route, thought it was closer to 5.8. I led it on "Ratherbe"'s gear and felt that it was a hard nine, which was confirmed later by a local, so there is definitely a grade difference between TR and lead.

I got "Gammie" on his first outdoor lead in over a year that was a bit above his current level. It was an adventurous day for both he and "GGF", as he took about six legitimate falls that all took "GGF" for a ride at the bottom (we told her that her rides were a good thing despite her hesitancy to embrace them). She learned how to use a Grigri for the first time, so she only had to worry about not hitting the wall when he fell instead of dropping him at the same time. All in all, though, they both climbed hard and got on a few different things. I think "Gammie" was pretty wiped by the end of the day. He certainly provided good entertainment (both climbing and, as always, with his voluminous sense of humor).

"Ratherbe" and "KITT" each got on routes that they both had and hadn't before with good results over all. "KITT" tried to reconquer the 5.9 that stumped him last time, but wasn't able to get up cleanly without apparently climbing the next route over, which was about 10 feet away ("enough to cause ground fall at the third bolt," he said!). Still, he also pushed himself on a super-crimpy 5.10a that I jumped on at the end of the day. Whereas "Ratherbe" also pushed herself on that early 5.9, my 5.10a (noteworthy because her finger has been sensitive to crimps), running up the main 5.8 twice to finish up one of "Gammie"'s falls, and a trad 5.6 where the crux felt considerably more awkward than 5.6.

My biggest accomplishments were falling repeatedly on a steep 5.10c and then pumping myself out on that crimpy 5.10a at the end of the day. The 5.10c kicked my ass so bad that I'll probably end up crapping myself inside out the next time I sit down. I fell about 10 tens on the first bolt. I was so tired that I ended up climbing 10 feet to the left on a 5.6 portion of a 5.9 just to get to the second bolt. "Ratherbe" then lowered me so that I could put it all together, but I fell again. One of the times I fell was due to bad beta ("Go for the far right of the right-hand pocket and it's bomber." Uh, nope. It's the far right of the left-hand pocket, and yes, there is a BIG difference between the two). I then took several times on the way up through the 5.9 portion because I was so damn pumped despite flashing this the last time (using the 5.6 start). I guess I now have two 5.10c climbs in this area that are projects (the other being the start right around the arrete from the main 5.8). The 5.10a was fun and right up my alley, but I took a couple of times on this, too, due to fatigue.

The biggest accomplishment of the day, however, was "Gecko"'s first outdoor lead ever. He led the main 5.8 as well as the 5.9 that keeps stumping "KITT" and the 5.9 finish with the 5.6 start. His one comment after the first lead (and after leading 5.11 inside this winter after only climbing on a rope on a regular basis for six months), "Outdoors is different." Yeah, welcome to the head games, fella, they'll love you as much as you love them.

We then headed to Orange to grab vittles. Dinner was good, the conversation was better. The ice cream a little further down the road was a bit more comical. All six of us squeezed on a four-person picnic table, and when an eight-person table opened up, being the good pal that I am, I jumped up and grabbed it. Did my gaggle of followers follow me? Noooo. Why didn't the follow me? Because I didn't verbalize my intentions. Should they have at least known or been able to figure it out? OF COURSE!!!!! So I sat at an eight-person table all alone to eat my lonely sundae until it was finished. I then got in my car and drove off... ...well, just around the corner of the building, but it was enough to send a message. Naturally, they all came to my side of the building when they finished their dessert. When "Ratherbe" went into the bathroom, we all jumped in the car and drove back to the other side of the building, but she knew what was up as soon as she came out.

One final note, before we took off, I asked "GGF" if I was driving too fast for her on the way out. Her answer was, "Yeah, you were flying." So, naturally, to be kind, I slowed up on the way back. And then I see that puny little CRV coming up along side of me. Pass ME? When she said I was going to SLOW? "Get the hell outathaway cause that ain't happenin' today."

For pics from Farley, click here. Newest photos are first.

First Day at Farley

After Saturday's fun at Cathedral, it was time to stay somewhat local and try something new. "KITT" and "RRC" met at my place at 8am this morning, and we headed off to Farley Cliffs in Erving, MA to explore what we had heard were a few sport climbs in the middle of nowhere. We wanted to judge the ease of getting there, the quality of the climbs, and how many there were. The verdict?

Farley sucks!

We arrived early, and found the approach annoyingly thin and blocked due to falcon nesting. Many of the early climbs, those closest to the parking, were closed, so we had to trek even farther to get to something worth climbing. When we finally arrived, we found the first several climbs soaked in the hot 80-degree sun. The dirt, or rather, sand, was too hot to walk across in my bare feet, and after two climbs, we sought to find shade.

On our way to the shade, the topic of nicknames came up and why "RRC" is "RRC". I've mentioned this before: because he recommended the Red Rocks Casino to "Tattoo" and I as a place to stay while at Red Rocks last fall. The problem with that? Red Rocks Casino is a $400-per-night place to sleep, and we weren't looking for anything that averaged less than $100 per night. Well, "RRC" noted that he had a pretty weak nickname, and "KITT" and I had to agree. We joked around a bit until "RRC" came up with his own nickname of "Killer". Of course, because "KITT" was next to climb and "RRC" was belaying him, "KITT" wasn't thrilled to give "RRC" a chance to earn this nickname. As the day went on, other nicknames were proposed, including "Cleaner", because "RRC" was climbing last and cleaning everything as a result. That was OK, but only OK. He certainly earned the nickname, but it isn't notorious, and thus not worthy of a Greg's-Climbing-Blog nickname. That, and, "Cleaner" and "Killer" kind of mean the same thing (ever see Leon - also known as The Professional?). At the end of the day, I finally came up with a nickname that seemed to fit the conversation: "Mr. Pink". All I wanted was to get him to say, "Why do I have to be Mr. Pink?". Due to the context, I think it fits. Folks, meet the new "RRC", now known as "Mr. Pink".

We played around on a 5.7 (maybe 5.8), 5.10c, 5.9+, and another 5.9 at the end of the day. It was a lazy Memorial Day, and that was OK with us. We got outside, we played around on complete, utter choss, and finished up with an antique ice cream, root beer float, and grilled cheese sandwich at a joint just down the road back toward Boston.

Will I come here again? Oh sure, just like I keep going back to Quincy Quarry. It's here, and there's still stuff to do. But I wouldn't send anyone here unless I was going with them, because I just couldn't bear the thought of sending friends to a crappy climbing area without them having the chance to berate me on the spot and to my face.

On a side note, it turns out that "Ratherbe" ended up at Farley, too, but for some reason we missed each other. Actually, she said she saw us leave, but she did't think it was me in the group because she's never seen me wear shorts before. Kind of bummed that we didn't meet up, but it was probably OK, as "Mr. Pink", "KITT", and I wanted to have a light day, and so we left somewhat early as a result.

For pictures from today, click here

Local Update

Despite the fact that the heavy rains that were scheduled to roll into Massachsetts early in the day didn't show up until later (and, thus, kept folks like me wrongly relegated to the gym instead of being outside), I am a bit more optimistic about climbing in New England this spring.

From what I understand, Farley Ledge and Rose Ledge each have a little bit of snow on the trails, but the routes are clean of snow themselves. The morning sun is making climbing there easy after rain, but it is making life difficult for those who want to park there. Apparently, the mud in the main parking area is keeping folks from parking. The lot only holds eight cars when dry, and the mud is lowering that number down to five or six. The overflow lot has also been found to be on private land. Thus far, there are no complaints, but as this place grows, there could be issues down the line. Hopefully a reasonable plan is being made in order to take an increased popularity into consideration. It would be a pity if Farley were to be closed due to poor planning.

As for Rumney, there's no fear of that being closed, but the conditions are surprisingly similar to Farley. There is snow on the trails, but the routes are dry. Yipee!