Was it the coldest Gunksfest ever? The darkest, the foggiest? I wouldn't know, but these thoughts came to mind as snowflakes piled up on small holds while I belayed Gabe. Late in the day, he had volunteered to break down the anchors on Frog's Head, and was now making his way up into the gloom in leather boots and thick gloves. Unable to jam, or use footholds less than five inches wide, he resorted to wild stems and heel hooks to gain height ledge-to-ledge. I admired Gabe's adventurous impulse and perverse refusal to take off the gloves. Among snowy heads below him, a consensus was building: getting close to pub time.
Gunksfesters, all 8 of us, owned the Trapps on Sunday. An elderly man with a German accent had cautioned me against climbing as I hiked to the cliff, saying that even football players could not grip the ball in such weather. I joined the climbing party late, to see Gabe and Dana already starting up their most-of-the-day epic on Easy O. Dawn, Julie, Steven, Scott and Alex were climbing, belaying or hanging about cheerfully at the base. They had ropes on City Lights and Maria Direct, impressive signs of energy in the cold. Scott was working on Redirect; Alex had just done City Lights and looked psyched to climb again. I borrowed Dawn's rack and led Frog's Head quickly, before anything went numb. Lowering off, I knew that would be my day's main achievement.
Toproping was low-pressure and humorous; how seriously could we take it, in this cold? Frozen fingers gave a fine reason to fall off, and it seemed that even sticky rubber would not stick. Well-dressed belayers stayed warm, though, and spirits were high on the ground. Maria Direct and Pas de Deux saw much action; this was clearly Big Fun.
New snow covered rocks and trail as we hiked out. Over beer and cider at Bacchus, conversation sailed from Red Rock to Red River, and the foibles of all climbers who weren't there.
Nice to hear you had fun despite the weather. I'm sorry I've not been able to make it; pain in the neck prevented me from doing anything for a week. Naproxen and pain killers seem to work ok now. The other Quebec guys were wimps and didn't want to go anymore when they saw the latest weather forecasts.
Oh well, there's gonna be a next time.
Marc
ichi...@hotmail.com wrote: > Was it the coldest Gunksfest ever?
ichi...@hotmail.com wrote: > Gabe's adventurous impulse and perverse refusal to take > off the gloves. Among snowy heads below him, a > consensus was building: getting close to pub time.
You are too kind by far! I was simply doing my best to demonstrate my pitiful aversion to cold fingies. And after a successful lead of Easy Overhang in full snow-man wrappings I figured - why bare any unnecessary skin now that the pub is practically in sight?
> Gunksfesters, all 8 of us, owned the Trapps on Sunday. > An elderly man with a German accent had cautioned me > against climbing as I hiked to the cliff, saying that > even football players could not grip the ball in such > weather. I joined the climbing party late, to see Gabe > and Dana already starting up their most-of-the-day epic > on Easy O.
Hmm, yes.
Dana had the first, and shorter pitch. He made tidy work of it, but took his time, as he hadn't climbed in four months, and was, perhaps, having an *interesting* time of getting his head back into the leading game given the, how shall I put it, sub-optimal conditions.
I followed Dana in my full snow-man wrappings. Then it's my turn to lead the second pitch. A few words of explanation.
I am a summer-babe. On days when everyone says it's too hot to climb, I strip down to my shorts, tie a sweat rag around my head and am good to go. In short, I am a cold-hating woosy. Keep that in mind as you envision me now, wrapped in so many layers that I was barely able to bend arms or legs, and looking down, which required bending at the waist, was right out. I was wearing two pairs of gloves, and my biggest fattest pair of hiking boots. Somehow I managed to thrutch my way up to the top in pretty good form, put Dana on belay and... And...
Nothing.
Due to the wind, and the overhangs between he and I, I wasn't convinced he could hear me. I hollered as loud as I could, and eventually I felt movement. The movements were halting and hesitant, though. I sat back and enjoyed the view from the top, watching the bands of snow move accross the landscape, enjoying myself thoroughly, while vaguely wondering what might be happening below. Little did I know.
Dana's heebie-jeebies had not confined themselves (as good heebie-jeebies should) to haunting him during his lead. If anything, they got more severe as he followed the second pitch. No surprise, really, as he lost all feeling in his hands, and due to the traversing nature of the climb, a fall would have been rather unpleasant. Had he fallen, things might have been a bit tricky. Between the wind and the overhangs, it would have been difficult to know what was happening. No surprise he was a little concerned! Good man, though, he eventually clawed his way to the top, bloody but unbowed, having neither fallen nor weighted any gear on the way.
But our long absence worried the rest of the crew. Just as we'd gotten the rope coiled and were beginning the walk-off, Steven showed up to insure our non-deadness. Non-deadness confirmed, we merrily hiked down the Uberfall, and the fun continued!
> New snow covered rocks and trail as we hiked out. Over > beer and cider at Bacchus, conversation sailed from Red > Rock to Red River, and the foibles of all climbers who > weren't there.
In <1104298493.509602.30...@f14g2000cwb.googlegroups.com> "GOClimb" <imcracklo...@hotmail.com> writes:
>But our long absence worried the rest of the crew. Just as we'd gotten >the rope coiled and were beginning the walk-off, Steven showed up to >insure our non-deadness. Non-deadness confirmed, we merrily hiked down >the Uberfall, and the fun continued!
I needed to walk around to warm up, so I figured I might as well make up a one-man search party. I scrambled up the Uberfall descent, and figured I walk over toward where someone would hike down from Easy O. Sure enough, there ya'll were.
I had oral surgery last week, and was worried about busting the stitches, so after cleaning City Lights, I stopped climbing. Then, belaying Julie, I noticed even that used the muscles in my mouth, so I stopped entirely.
It was really a fun day, cold as it was. Too bad, too -- today was beautiful, must have been over 50 here in New Jersey.
So, this is the second GF in a row that Colin and I missed. It was not the weather this time, it was the distance: we were in England over Christmas. Colin and Diane, at least, hiked 13 miles thru the High Peaks moors, in sleet, ice pellets and rain, whilst I, indoors, sampled a selection of single malts and tried to comprehend how anyone could live on only 4 TV channels. We did monitor the GF event over Google, however.
Those of you who know Colin might be interested in seeing the climbing monster that he's become. (he lives in Socorro, NM). Take a look at:
and you'll see why his friends have nicknamed him "Visible Liver". These days he mostly boulders, but I know he's done at least one 5.11 in the past year. This fall he also began a SAR training program.
See what a liitle mentorship can do, Steven? Cheers to all,
In <1104613488.498276.192...@z14g2000cwz.googlegroups.com> "Splinter" <splin...@pantherdigital.net> writes:
>So, this is the second GF in a row that Colin and I missed. It was not >the weather this time, it was the distance: we were in England over >Christmas. Colin and Diane, at least, hiked 13 miles thru the High >Peaks moors, in sleet, ice pellets and rain, whilst I, indoors, sampled >a selection of single malts and tried to comprehend how anyone could >live on only 4 TV channels. We did monitor the GF event over Google, >however. [....] >See what a liitle mentorship can do, Steven?
Yes, I would like to take credit for all of Colin's 5.11s, and about half of his future 5.12s as well.
In the meantime, a country with 300 single-malts and only 4 channels still sounds pretty good compared to the reverse. Which won the tasting?
-steven- -- <ste...@panix.com> =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= I might have taken the moral high road but that never works any way. -- Splinter, in email, December, 1996
Steven Cherry wrote: > In <1104613488.498276.192...@z14g2000cwz.googlegroups.com> "Splinter" <splin...@pantherdigital.net> writes:
> >whilst I, indoors, sampled > >a selection of single malts and tried to comprehend how anyone could > >live on only 4 TV channels.
[...]
> In the meantime, a country with 300 single-malts and only 4 channels > still sounds pretty good compared to the reverse. Which won the > tasting?
I have become partial to a quite nice, and reasonably-priced little number named "Glenfarclas 12" which is a mild Speyside. In the above tasting I went mostly with macho Islays, and therefore can't remember who won. Or if any did.
Few liquor stores around here (CT) have Glenfarclas on the shelves, but can order it. The Glenfarclas distillery is one of the few that have not been bought out by a huge multi-national (FWIW).
There I was. There I was. There I was. I was pawing at what looked like holds, over gripping in my state of panic. Not of a pendulum into the corner, or an epic at the overhang, but of being immortalized forever in cyber space as the guy who fell on a 5.2 at GF 04. They say fortune favors the brave. I guess it favors the rusty gripped guys too as I continued up what looked like holds but felt like nothingness and made it to the top with only a few scars to show for it. Alas, I will have to wait until next year to show my true potential for making history. Thanks for waiting!
> So, this is the second GF in a row that Colin and I missed. It was not > the weather this time, it was the distance: ... > Orly & Merle
I missed two,though not in a row. Both were for very strong reasons. As I posted, this year I spent the time in the hospital with my grandmother (we referred to her as Nana). The funeral was this morning. She died Fri afternoon ten hours before her 96th birthday.
Dawn looks pretty cold in those Pics. By chance, I missed the two cold years, though I would have happily shown up regardless of the weather. Sorry I missed you all.
