Three Stories

Three Stories
Summer 2000

by Andy Gale

Of Bighorn Sheep, Pine Sap and Underwear

It was rather hot hiking into the Wonderland past Barker Dam but we were hopefully headed for shady climbs so we pressed on. The goal was the Bighorn Mating Grotto. Imagine my surprise when Emily stopped to point to a ridgeline where four bighorn sheep stood majestically looking down at these intruders into their domain. They really seemed as interested in us as we were in them and we stared at each other for quite a while with cameras clicking away (ours, not theirs). I figured it was a good omen for the upcoming climbs in the Bighorn Mating Grotto. Presently we arrived at the grotto and discovered it wasn't quite as shady as we had hoped. Nevertheless we roped up and began climbing. The second climb we did is one of my all-time favorites in Josh. Caught Inside On a Big Set starts off up a discontinuous steep crack/flake system trending slightly left and then precisely when those cracks peter out one reaches way right to slot a perfect hand jam in the bottom of another crack that bisects a bulge at the top of the climb. Perfect hand jams continue to easier ground. Fun, fun, fun!

From the top of the formation we had a short rappel off a small pine tree down into a shady hollow. I was sitting next to the pine tree as we set things up and then when I moved to stand up I realized that I was quite literally stuck to the rock! I was sitting directly in a huge puddle of pine-sap that was nicely softened by the heat and I really had to pull hard to unstick myself. Now I had this huge gooey glob of pine-sap on my butt. I had to move my gear around to prevent it from sticking to my butt! I then tried to rub some of the sap off by rubbing my butt back and forth on the rock. But mostly this resulted in a mess of gravel, dirt and twigs getting stuck to my butt as well! Emily managed to express her sympathy for my situation through peals of laughter! When we got back to the ground I ended up just taking my pants off and climbing in my underwear the rest of the day. Somehow Emily was able to resist my considerable charms anyway. It must have been the heat!

The Project

I'll admit it. I am a budding sport climber. Brent converted me. Some three years ago was the first time I really tried sport climbing. My attitude was all wrong then. I had the trad mentality, I didn't want to fall. I was nervous on overhanging ground with the pump clock ticking. I had no interest in re-climbing a route that I fell on. It never occurred to me to "work" a route that was harder than I could reasonably expect to onsight. I still probably climb more trad than sport but I gradually acquired the sport-climber's mentality.

Part of that was that I started The Project. Actually, I first got on the route two years ago! Pretty ridiculous actually that I still hadn't managed to climb this route. It was a pretty good route for my strengths. In other words, it was short! No one has ever accused me of having endurance. It was also just a very cool route. The route in question was Pretty Hate Machine at Williamson Rock. The problem with it was that the crux was powerful crimpy moves that I could only really work two or three times a day before my fingers were toast. That first summer I really only worked on it one day actually. But it definitely seemed doable. Last summer I spent most of three days on it but that still only translated to about seven tries at it and I had to re-learn the sequence as well. But I got agonizingly close. I just didn't have the guns to finish it. I whipped off the crux about five times, each time just a bit higher up.

But then circumstances conspired to keep me away from the route for another year. Finally I got back to Williamson this summer in July. Brent and I worked Pretty Hate Machine my first day back. The sequence came right back to me this time. I felt like I still had it wired. Of course my detailed written beta from last summer didn't hurt! Nevertheless I still fell at about the same place every damn time! One whipper was a good 15-20 ft when I yarded up a loop of rope to clip and then popped off. Quite a rush! But I still just didn't have the endurance.

The next time I got to Williamson a few weeks later, I didn't want to try it again. I was just tired of that route so we did other things. But a month after that I felt I had been climbing really strong lately and I just had to get on it. Brent and I were focused only on Pretty Hate Machine. We each did a couple of laps on Hired Gun for warmup and then went straight to Pretty Hate Machine. We sat on the big boulder next to the climb and each went over the moves in our minds....right on sloper crimp, throw to high sidepull, step up, clip right then grab right sidepull, flag and dyno left to lumpy sidepull, rearrange feet for balance, right to the crimp....

I was eager to get on the route first and Brent reluctantly acquiesced. I racked my draws, got psyched, reviewed the bottom moves in my mind, breathed deeply and then stepped up to the beginning. The first moves flowed, familiar and smooth, then Brent's new variation, sidepull out left, pop to the big jug, followed by the first real hard moves below the 4th bolt and then the pseudo-rest.

"Wow! That went fast! I've never felt this strong at this point before! I'm gonna get this thing!"

Ok, work the rest, stem out, arms straight, shake the left, shake the right, back and forth. Review the footholds, get psyched, Ok, here it goes, crimp, sidepull, clip, sidepull, flag, dyno, move the feet, crimp, Don't let go, dammit! Don't let go! Left hand up, then right to the big sloper, keep those feet on, clip the draw, pull up the rope, clip, now left hand on horn, search for that hidden pocket, grap the crappy sloper, get that foot up, rock over, press it out. Son of a gun! I did it! Hot damn!! My hands were frozen with fatigue, but I could rest before a couple more easy moves to the top. Don't drop that draw. Clip the shuts. Done....

(Pretty Hate Machine, 12a, Williamson Rock, CA, September 16, 2000)

Bouldering at Josh

Evening was drawing near as I strolled out to the usual "end of the day" problems from the parking lot. A small meditative cluster of people was gathered around the classic traverse. One guy had a boom box playing some classical music, sounded like Vivaldi, but what do I know. Most of the group seemed to be spending more time sitting and contemplating whatever people contemplate at such times than they were climbing. Being in a contemplative mood myself I fit right in. After a deliberate preparation I hopped on the traverse. Halfway down I fell at my usual spot. No endurance of course. I crouched and listened to the music for a bit while watching the skinny guy do his thing, then hopped back on and finished the traverse. After reading my book for a bit I did the dyno problem once just for the feel of it and then bouldered up to the crux of High Noon. As usual I didn't commit to the crux and downclimbed off. One day....

Then it was time for my favorite problem. I carefully scrubbed the soles of my shoes clean and dried them off, grabbed up my gear and strolled over. It is an amazing shallow dihedral capped by a bit of an overhang. I have only managed to climb it once and that was two years ago. The difficulty is not a matter of strength. It is incredibly tenuous stemming on nothing but friction and the key is all in the sequence. The sequence I have memorized. But I always have to relocate the best smears for the stems every time. I scrutinized the surfaces of the rock and identified my spots. Then I set about my routine... place the crash pad, stretch out my hips, put on the shoes, brush holds, review the sequence again.

Finally I stepped up and placed my hands on the rock, took a deep breath and pushed up into the first stem. The sequence took over, breath, move, breath, move, carefully place that foot... Then I was in position below the roof looking up at the lip. With a careful two-handed dyno I slapped solidly onto the dish at the lip and swung slightly. I got my feet back on, mantled up with a bit of a whale move, and I was on top.

I sat down in the center of this big boulder and the music entered my consciousness again. Everyone over at the traverse was out of sight but I could still hear the classical music playing. So I stayed up there for a while, sitting, listening to the music, watching the sun set.

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A Los Alpinistas story and photographs by Andy Gale.