On the flight out we had a great view of Bryce and Zion flying in over Utah. Upon landing we jumped in the rental car and blasted to the Motel 6 near J-Tree.
Next morning we met the Dave himself - he drove up from San Diego with Bryce to climb with us for a day. We headed to a new area at J-tree for me: the Lost Horse Mine. After a short hike we reached a canyon with a somewhat broken looking cliff, some big boulders, and (duh) a mine. There was a bolted 5.7 that seemed OK so I had Eric ("I can climb 5.10 in the gym") give it a go. Eric got stuck at the crux, a balancy traverse, and angrily declined to continue due to an "impossible" move. I had no problems with the move myself and when Eric followed he decided it was easy. Depends on which end of the rope you're on I guess. Marti, Dave, and Jay all ran up it no problem. Bryce, Jay, and I checked out the mine (cool!) and bouldered a little then we retreated to the car for lunch.
After bagging a campsite in Hidden Valley for Dave, Bryce and Jay got to adventure around the camp a little and Bryce started getting more comfortable on the rocks. We then headed for the Wonderland and hiked past the Astrodomes to Fat Freddies Cat, just around the corner from the Freak brothers. Fortunately we had two guidebooks. The first one lists the center of the slab as 5.0 X while the other says it's 5.4 X. I took a look and the X was definitely right. As for the difficulty, it was way harder than 5.0 and I wimped out by climbing the route to the right. Jay and Marti both thought the slab was pretty tough - especially at the top - and I was glad I didn't try and solo it. Bryce gave it a try and made it up the first part but backed off once the exposure kicked in. After taking Marti and Dave down a truly awful JTree descent we split up - Dave, Eric and I headed for the Bighorn Mating Grotto while Marti took the kids back to the car.
Fortunately I had been to the grotto before and found my way there without much fuss. There's a stiff bit of scrambling at the end and Dave wondered about my sanity. Our objective was the "Dangling Woo Li Master", a classic 5.10b. I ran up around the back and throw a rope down. Eric tried first and found it to be pretty tough. After one hang he powered up the final hand jam and became "Mr. Hardcore". Dave, wimpified by many years among the cornfields, could no longer keep up with Wiener Boy and repeatedly fell at the crux before lowering off in shame. Unfortunately the sun was setting so I didn't get a shot at glory and we had to hustle to get back to the car before total darkness. A full moon helped a lot and we all were soon at the McD's in 29 Palms.
Dave and Bryce headed back to the campground and we headed off into the night toward Tucson. We busted ass and pulled into Sierra Vista around 3am for the night.
Next morning we stopped in at the U of A and chatted with Debray and Pete Downey - about the only guys left from the old days. We then met Grandpa, Grandma, and Alan at our hotel, checked in, and headed off to the mountains. We stopped into at Apartment Locators and found Gary Sax, ready for action. Gary and I headed up to Wimpy Point while everyone else went hiking in Sabino.
Gary took me to Paradox Rock, about halfway between the Hitchcock campground and Wimpy Point. I led a nice 5.7 gear route. It was typical for Lemon - good moves, tricky pro, and runout on the easy parts. There were new (to me) sport routes on either side and we polished these off before heading back down satisfied with these excellent routes.
It was still light out so we headed to Wimpy Point for one last route. I jumped in Vistacruiser, a 5.7 on Beaver Wall that Gary hadn't done. It was a great route and I did fine up until the final traverse. I just couldn't psych myself up for the last move before the bolt and finally retreated in shame to the easy gully. I tried to kill Gary by dropping a loose rock from the gully but he managed to avoid my little gift. On top rope Gary had no problem with the final traverse and made me look like the wimp that I am but why change now I guess. Anyway, a great day of climbing.
The next day Marti visited Sarah in Safford while Grandma and Grandpa took Jay to Chiricahua. Eric was mine for the day (evil laughter...).
The big plan was to climb at Wimpy Point again but the weather sucked bigtime. We could see fresh snow on the pines and decided to head for somewhere warmer. A stop at the Smut Hut got us a brand new Queen Creek guidebook and we were off for scenic Superior.
I had never been to Queen Creek. Back when I was in AZ, it always looked like a big chosspile. We looked through the book and decided on a 5.8 up past a small pool and falls. The hike in was cool and it would have been a great place for a swim if it hadn't been so damn cold and windy. Most of the routes were way hard so we didn't have much to choose from. We found the 5.8 - a face full of huecos. A route that wasn't in the guidebook was on the right side of the face. I geared up and went for it - only 5.8 after all.
After much whining, hanging, cursing, and finally bailing to the route on the right I finally made it up. Almost all of the huecos were crap and each move was a desperate search for the one or two decent holds. The rock quality was rather poor and I managed to remove at least one of the holds on the route. All in all, it was way harder than it looked and seemed harder than 5.8. This convinced us not to try a "classic" 5.10 on the right and retreat to the car instead.
After lunch in Globe we tried a new area: the "Mine". This was much nicer and we had a pretty good time. The rock was good and the routes climbed short pinnacles. The light was perfect for photography and we got some great pictures. Even so, everything seemed hard for its grade and we had a hard time scraping up even 5.7. Eric managed to lead one of the 5.6 routes and even admitted he was sort of having fun. All in all, an interesting place to climb and much nicer than the canyon by the road.
The next day we all headed to the Desert Museum, an attraction approved by all of us. It had changed a lot since we had last been there and it was fun to see all of the new exhibits. After lunch, Jay, Marti, and I headed up to Wimpy Point for some more climbing.
We started with the obligatory climb of Hitchcock. Jay had no problems impressing the tourist hordes with his spider powers. Then we headed down for Slippery When Wet. I hadn't been on this in probably 15 years and had forgotten just how nice it is. I led the climb in just one pitch and Jay had no problems with anything except one of my cams. We had forgotten Marti's shoes so she was photographer / ground support. After having so much trouble at Queen Creek it was great to be on granite again.
That evening Gary and Jill hosted a barbecue for us. We had a great evening hanging out with them and hearing more about their new business (especially the part about the prospective real estate agent who didn't know that 6/8 is the same as 3/4).
Trip reports involving epics, mistakes, pain, bumbling, or insanity write themselves. But what about trips where everything goes just right? Maybe there's nothing that should be said, But I'll try anyway.
Of the many climbing areas in Arizona, it's the Stronghold that always calls the loudest when I'm passing through. The rock, the solitude, the lines; everything needed to have a good time.
This trip started with some exceptionally good fortune: a chance phone call from J-Tree. Where were we heading? Out of Towners dome. Did you hear about the new 5.9 there? Just left of El Cautivo? (Actually, it turns out that we were actually on El Cautivo and the new route is on the right). No - tell us about it! And thence to a brilliant clear day, a pleasant drive, and a fine approach hike. We felt no urgency - Gary and I took it easy and enjoyed the solitude of the Stronghold as we strolled up the climbers trail. The cactus held back and let us pass into the golden granite dome unscathed.
At the base we saw the promised line of bolts leading up the slab. The first pitch set the tone: good rock, a nice belay, and a wonderful view. Nobody was on Wastelands to shatter the desert stillness. The road was far below - nothing but granite and wide open spaces in the distance.
The second pitch was harder but not frightening. A cam (one of only two nut placements we needed) led me onto a pleasantly textured face. Bolts were just where they should be. Smooth friction was broken by occasional chickenheads. We were in the zone - everything seemed easy and the moves flowed smoothly from one to the next.
Another belay, another pitch. Interesting moves around a short vertical step and then more delicate friction. More chickenheads. More sunshine. There was no place we would rather have been; the birds circled overhead, other domes glowed in the spring sunshine, and the air was warm but not hot. How could climbing be any more serene or carefree? And climbing offers companionship and teamwork, something that can make even a mundane route into a stellar day. But this was a superb route and Gary a fine partner, so how could things be better?
A final short pitch and we were on top. Views all around; mountains on every horizon. There was no need to hurry - no gathering darkness or ominous clouds. Four raps and we were back at the packs. And then down to the car, tired but satisfied. Back in Tucson everyone was surprised to see us back so soon.
Vacation is now fading from my memory but what lasts the longest is the tranquility of that special place and joy at finding a fine new climb. Would that all climbing areas were as special as the Stronghold and that all road trips featured the surprise and delight of that unexpected route.
We had dinner with Wendy, Debray, Arun (same age as Jay), and Rena. We also dug up another friend from the old days, Dyer Lytle. It was a lot of fun catching up on all the Tucson news.
The next day we drove to Zion. We stopped to hike in Walnut Canyon and Grandma made it all the way around the loop trail. Arriving in Zion the campground was full so we camped at the overflow area downstream.
There I was in Zion; abandoned and desperate. My climbing partners had bailed on me. What to do? What to do?
Having a somewhat adventurous nature I decided to try something new: canyoneering. Aided and abetted by Tom's Utah Canyoneering Page, http://www.canyoneeringusa.com/utah/, we decided to give it a try.
A real climber feels like he can handle anything involving ropework: tightrope walking, caving, technical canyoneering, or even high-rise window washing. That is if he feels like it - such activities are normally too wimpy for a real climber to consider. And of course canyoneering is just climbing without the climbing - you do the approach, the raps, and the descent but not the route. So obviously I was highly qualified.
The next step was picking a route. It had to involve raps - otherwise it would be too wimpy. However, these canyoneers seem attracted to water. Climbing routes don't have water problems (unless you're climbing sea cliffs) and we didn't want to spend the day all wet and yucky so we looked for a route that said "mostly dry" on it. Also, Eric (my partner in crime) is morally opposed to long walks. After punching all of these requirements into the search engine, Spry Canyon popped out. Just the right rating: 3 (meaning technical but not crazy) A (no major water) *** (classics, classics, have to do classics). Plus it's almost all downhill since you start at the top of the tunnel spend most of the day going down.
While I did read the basic route description in Tom's guide, I ignored all of the extra junk of the website, like canyoneering gear, safety, and, most importantly, this quote: "I'm always amazed at how bad my competent climbing friends are at canyoneering."
Spry canyon lies behind East Temple. The trip is essentially a circumnavigation of its peak, starting at the the top of the tunnel. Of course, our trip actually started at the Visitor Center to secure the $5 backcountry pass. Why do we have to pay $5 to hike when the main expense the park has seems to be the rangers controlling the tunnel so RV's don't crash into each other? RV's don't have any extra fees! Anyway, the only question the ranger had was whether we were going to be wearing wet suits. Wet suits? It's a DRY canyon! I laughed at the thought.
OK - so what gear does the canyoneering tourist bring? Well, since he's a climber he brings climbing gear. A nice lead rope and an extra older rope for that 165 rap. A rack of about 3 nuts. A few slings. Harnesses and belay devices. That was about it - I climb light so I should canyoneer light. The one thing I wanted to bring but couldn't was my good sandals, lost in the garage somewhere. Instead I brought an old pair of kayaking booties with non-existent soles. Eric at least had some decent sandals.
The first part of the trip was no big deal. 4th class scrambling - no problemo. Very pretty, too. Eric (aka Wiener Boy) was feeling a bit tired but otherwise we were cruising. Over the pass, down the wash. A total picnic!
Suddenly reality hit: the canyon dropped out of sight. Looking around we say rap bolts down on the left. Of course we were wearing crappo footwear so the crux was definitely the sandy slab down to the bolt. The rap itself was no big deal but I was distressed that the ropes seemed to be magnetically attracted to the pools of water. After some heroic maneuvering I managed to pull the ropes with only one of them getting soaked.
All of a sudden things seemed a lot less like climbing. Pulling the rope we realized that we were completely committed. Nowhere to go but down. Suddenly all that stuff we should have brought (extra slings, bolt kit, dry bags, extra food and water) seemed a little more important. But watchya gonna do?!?
The next section was mellow and scenic. Easy walking. Great views. Eric even admitted it was sort of fun.
Then the stream dropped into a slot. But I had beta! Work high and right!! Yes! Tom got me through without a rap. Cool. Another slot. We weren't sure about that one - we worked right and found a truly dreadful rap anchor. No. Our natural laziness prevented us from getting far enough above the stream to avoid these drops - I finally got tired of messing around and rapped into a chasm off a 2" mountain mahogany. Good thing those guys are sturdy.
We came to yet another drop off. After a lot of casting around we noticed a good bolted anchor on the left. This rap ended (as usual) in a big puddle and the rope was slowly becoming saturated with water and sand. A cool dark chamber led to another rap and we arrived at the crux.
Here the canyon entered a high walled slot - there was absolutely no way to go anywhere except down the stream. Bolts pointed the way. I looked over the edge and there it was - a pond about 10' across that was completely unavoidable. Dry, my ass! I did what any sane climber would have done: I sent Eric first. I decided to lower him rather than set a rap - this would make the swim a lot easier. I eased him down to the pool and he looked around for a traverse but no dice. Swimming time! It wasn't much of a swim (this is the pool visible on Tom's web page) but he wasn't particularly happy about it. He did find one amusing thing to do: a piece of wood had dammed the pool and when he pulled it out a mini-flood roared down the canyon. Probably the highlight of Eric's day. Another drop led to a second pool which he also sloshed through. He disappeared around the corner and announced there was a bolt there. Cool!
My turn. Aside from not wanting to get soaked, I was also concerned about the gear. Of course I should have had a dry bag. But climbers don't carry dry bags so I didn't have one. But, as usual, I did have a plan. I had Eric tighten the rope as much as possible. I knotted the rope to keep it from pulling through the ring and then rapped down, hoping to slide right over the evil pool.
Not a chance.
I ended up suspended waist deep in the middle of the pool unable to move without getting soaked. Damn that rope stretch. After some thought I decided Eric could climb hand over hand up to the other end of the pool and help out. He wasn't too happy about this but at least if he had fallen he would have landed in water. I gently passed the cameras, dry clothes, food, and other gear to him and then disconnected the rap device and swam (briefly) to the other side. Getting the gear across the next pool was easier and we tried pulling the rope.
Crap. The rope was jammed. More wading, swimming, swearing, and the rope finally came down. At this point there was no way to keep any part of the rope clean or dry. Every rap generated a gush of muddy water aimed at the crotch - what fun.
As we were messing around another party passed by. They were smart enough to avoid all of the water by staying high and coming down a dry canyon that joined our route just past the pools. They were gone when we finally got our act together but at least now we had some good beta. Although there was an anchor leading into yet another dark, pool filled canyon these guys had traversed an exposed ledge system on the right to stay dry. Looked good to us.
I started across on Eric's belay and had to chicken out. My booties were absolutely useless on friction and I just couldn't face the potential swing. So I sent Eric across instead. We had a hard time finding the next anchor but finally we we in the clear.
That was about it - two more raps, no swims, and a hike down to the road. Eric was appointed "rope guard" while I hitched back up to the car. Victory.
So now I'm smarter about this canyoneering stuff. Here's the lessons hindsight has provided me:
The next day Marti, Jay, and I attempted the old trail up Lady Mountain. This trail has been closed for many years and some climbing gear is needed in places. We found the trail branching off the Emerald Pool trail about 100 yards past a sign showing rockfall in the canyon. This led to the first cliff band which proved to be quite easy. Carved steps made everything quite simple and there was no need for climbing gear. At the second cliff band things got a bit harder. First was a slabby climb that proved to be quite hard in hiking boots. Fortunately it was short and not exposed. A bit higher was the crux - a very exposed chimney. We belayed and I placed a couple of cams but it really wasn't a big deal. Nowhere near the 5.6 the guidebook indicated. They also called for way too much rope - 50' would have been plenty. Above this the trail works left towards the edge of a big cliff. We left the trail just before the final technical part and climbed a steep sandy gully to an excellent lunch spot. Jay was ready to head down so we didn't make it all the way up.
That night we stayed in Vegas. The next morning Eric was on the hook for a major Vegas climb. We started at 6am and headed up toward "Chuckwalla 21". As we drove up some things started to bother me: I didn't have a guidebook - it was lost in the suitcase somewhere. The weather was cold and windy. The approach looked like it would be a real bear - almost as bad as "Catwalk", the epic approach against which Eric measures all others. Finally, in a moment of sanity, I turned around and told Eric I would let him do a shorter climb.
We pulled into the parking lot at First Creek just as another party was getting ready to head up. Eric and I jumped out of the car and stormed down the trail before they knew what hit them. We wanted Lotta Balls and nobody was going to get in our way! The hike was decorated with tons of flowers, especially Evening Primrose, making it less of a chore than it could have been. We easily beat all other parties to the base of the climb and I was soon up the first pitch. The second pitch is the crux: tiptoeing up the tiny marbles that give the climb its name. Eric refused to have anything to do with leading this so it was up to me. It had been many years since I had been on this pitch and it hasn't gotten any easier. After much fiddling I finally committed to the crux and grabbed the happy bucket at the top of the slab. The end of the pitch was still far above but all of the hard climbing was over. Since Eric had been such a good sport on this trip I again decided to have mercy on him and instead of finishing the pitch I lowered back to the belay so we wouldn't have to do the big hike back to the base. Eric had no problem top roping the crux and then we rapped. We also paused to do the first pitch of the 5.9 just to the right and then ended the climbing portion of the vacation and headed for Vegas.
The Adventure Dome at Circus Circus was Eric's reward for a job well done. Eric spent all afternoon playing laser tag, riding the coaster, spinning in circles, and whatever other trouble he could get into. Jay joined us after a while and went from being totally against roller coasters at the start to becoming completely addicted by the end of the day. Jay and Eric were temporarily best buddies as they ran from ride to ride until the place closed that evening.
An early flight back to Baltimore and a long drive put us back at home the next day, wasted but happy. Another spring break survived.