After a short pow-wow, we decided to go climb at Indian Cove, the warmest area in the park. Off we went, with Rea riding in my car. We set up camp on the Short Wall, a popular crag right in the campground. Not much to say: I tried to booty a biner of a sport route but failed miserably. We all had fun on some nice face routes. The kids climbed a 5.1. We tried a 10b fingertip layback on toprope: Tim is the hero while I manage to fly off head down for the amusement of the crowd. We eventually work over to a 10a sport route. I'd done it years ago but back off (yet again!). No strength, no confidence!
The others were ready to pack it in but Tim and I decided to finish the day with a few more climbs. We started by looking for "Jailhouse Rock" but got lost instead. Then we drove back up to the campground and stopped at the Hall of Horrors. I led Lazy Day (5.7) in a cold wind - very alpine. Eiger conditions! Tim and I compared "50 classics" notes - he's done a lot that I haven't. I wanted just *one more* route - we headed for Lickety Splits. I got off to a poor start by falling just a few feet off the ground - oops! Back on track, I reached the runout slab above the crack. I've done this a bunch of times but I just couldn't get my head together. The wind howls. I howl. I back off - defeated by a 5.7! I traverse over to Diamond Dogs and show Tim how to rig a poot sling off the bolt so we can bail without a trace. There's snow in the air - no wonder we feel so cold and unmotivated!
Back at camp, I decide to drive into town for a hot dinner. Leaving Tim and family, I head off alone. I return in a driving blizzard. Damn - this is supposed to be April! Everyone else has scampered off - chickens!! I'm all that remains of the great Cliffhanger Reunion.
I jump on the rock as soon as the party ahead of us leaves. Climbing at their heels, I reach the first belay and talk with them. Turns out they plan to rap after the next pitch, leaving us in the lead. Cool! I belay Mike and Al, then Al takes the next pitch. Here we start paying for our generosity: Al hands Mike a pack almost bigger than Mike is! As Mike and I follow the pitch, Mike pops off a lieback due to the monster pack and starts bleeding all over from a small cut on his finger. We're undetered, though, switch packs and finish the lead. Next are 4 easy pitches that mark the middle of the route. We're soon at the base of the top part of the climb: a huge dihedral system. Mike gets the first hard pitch: a spot of 5.9 at a bolt, followed by a classic dihedral. The 5.9 move stops Mike for a few minutes and he wisely decides to pull on the bolt and get moving. As Mike leads, the other parties slowly collect behind us. Al regales us with tales of the Canadian Rockies and some really bad jokes. Eventually, Mike reaches the ledge and it's our turn.
Al and I find the 5.9 move easy but it's a matter of reach. Above is one of the best pitches in Vegas: a fantasticly exposed dihedral with a perfect crack at the back - mostly 5.7 or so. The next pitch is Al's: a 5.9 boulder problem and some nice crack climbing above. Al tries to steal the next pitch, but it's mine! A third pitch of classic climbing with some nice laybacking. It's getting late and we're pulling ahead of the crowd again. One last pitch of bolt-protected slab climbing and we're on top. We wait a while but the parties behind us have slowed down, so Mike and I set the rap. Al wants to wait for his friends; Mike and I head down, expecting him to come soon. We begin to freeze on our tiny ledge - no sign of Al. After a long wait, I'm ready to pull the ropes but Al finally appears. It's getting late and I'm worried about getting ticketed (you have to be back to the car before the ranger closes the loop road around 9 or it's a $50 fine). Al waits at the bottom of the raps for his friends while Mike and I make a run for it.
The slabs go fast, but the streambed proves to be slow and tiring. After returning to the pack we had left, I run ahead as fast as I can without a flashlight to get to the car. As I walk down the last mile of trail I can see the ranger writing our ticket. Missed by 10 minutes! Damn! Everyone else no doubt had to descend in the dark, but at least they seem to have plenty of gear in their packs.
Next, the "other side" of Zion: Kolob. Long ago, Marti and I had been to the South Fork, a canyon right off the road, and I remembered some really interesting looking climbing. We arrive about an hour before sunset and start hiking a good trail. The walls are high and vertical but not too close in at the start - it's like being in Yosemite Valley before it was paved over. We can see some signs of big wall climbing on the sides. Higher up, snow covers the ground as we hike. We eventually see some short routes on the right hand side but we're not up to the place I remember yet. Finally, almost at the end of the canyon, we reach an alcove with an overhanging wall pocked by lines of solution pockets. Two of these lines have bolts - neat! I choose the easier looking line further up the canyon.
The climbing is relatively easy: big jugs (sometimes a bit hollow feeling) and long reaches. I attain the second bolt, about 25 feet up, and lower down to give Mike a try. Mike's not anchored and as I lean back he shoots up in the air! I guess the 100 pound weight difference overcame the rope friction. It all seemed rather hilarious - I slowly drop down as he passes me on the way up. He lets out rope and we're back on the ground. Mike's turn: much harder for the reach impaired. I'd like to go further but it's getting dark so I show Mike how to rig a poot sling and bail. I'll have to come back again someday - a very pleasant place to practice sport climbing! Even though we only climbed a little bit, the area is so pretty in the sunset we don't mind the extra hiking and driving. Back to Vegas!
We decide to go around the White Mountains instead of over them. We pull into a town to get gas but - oh no! - no power. The whole valley is without power while the electric company "switches grids" or some such. Next gas just 90 miles. Damn - we'll have to wait till two when the power is on. Fortunately, a couple of locals hear our woes and offer to sell us 4 gallons they have in a can. Saved! Really nice folks out in the middle of nowhere.
Onward, to Bishop. We arrive around 12:30; no 3 hour drive! Then I notice Swain said "via Death Valley". OK - so we can do three hours on the way back. We buy a guidebook and head for the Owens River Gorge.
The weather is poor but we won't be stopped! We park at the upper gorge and find the trail. Not too bad but soon we're walking in 3 - 4 inches of snow. We locate a climb - a 5.8 sport route - and decide to take a shot at it. Mike backs off - needs to grow longer arms - and I buzz up easily. After Mike climbs we have a brief conference. We have time for one more route. Got to make it a classic!
The choice is "Gorgeous", a stunning 10a arete. The first problem is getting there: poor Mike is hiking in Birkenstocks. We pass the old trestle, knock snow off some of the planks, and we're there. The rock is dry but Mike is belaying in 3 - 4 inches of snow.
I am able to remain ethically pure for only 3 bolts. It's a really great route but my strength starts to fizzle. I hang and whine but keep moving steadily up. After the 6th bolt, things ease up a bit. Then I'm at the 8th bolt - almost there! But no - it's a 25 foot runout to the anchors. It's only 5.4 but I'm so toasted it scares the crap out of me. I finish, lower down, and offer Mike a go at it but he's a popsicle. Poor guy has been sitting in the shade and the snow for over an hour watching me whine up the route. Plus, I've got to get Mike back to Vegas - he's got a plane to catch!
We're back in Bishop around 5. We grab junk food and hit the road around 5:10. We notice the the Owen's guidebook says it's 6 hours to Vegas - if so, we're screwed! Nothing to do but drive like a maniac. The poor rent-a-car did 90 OK but really didn't want to go much over 100. On to Death Valley! Really pretty but slow and winding. When's Mike's flight? Don't know! He's got an e-ticket so it's not printed anywhere. We know it's after nine, though.
Finally we reach US 89 - the main road to Vegas. Estimated arrival at airport: 9:30. Mike's phone starts working: we find out the plane takes off at 9:45; the next one is 5am so he's really hoping to make it. As we speed through Vegas I become obsessed with getting Mike there on time. Past the casinos: Circus, Circus: check. Mirage: check. New York, New York: check. Luxor: check. Mike is beyond caring now - he finds the whole process quite amusing. As predicted, we pull up at 9:30. He runs to the ticket counter. He runs to the gate and just squeezes in before they lock the door. Triumph!! Meanwhile, I return the car and hang out waiting for my 2am flight. On to Hartford!
So that's it - another climbing trip shot to hell!