Joshua tree sunset in Ryan Campground (Photo by D. Lui)

Day 1, Wednesday  - Sail Away and Wild Wind

I'd gotten into Joshua Tree around 10:45pm on Tuesday night so once Eileen (@rockgrrl) and Kelly (@voden) rolled into the campsite after 11, and Eileen and I traded hugs, I opted to sleep in my car rather than set up a tent.  I woke up in my rental car a little disoriented and groggy around 6:30am on Wednesday. I slowly pulled myself from my cozy sleeping bag cocoon and tugged on the door handle while rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Immediately my car alarm started honking and hollering, "HELLOOOooOOo Joshua Tree!! I am here!"  Crud. No, not the smoothest of morning introductions to this serene desert landscape.  Ah well, at least I was fully awake and alert.  After a little breakfast and profuse apologies to Eileen and Kelly for my morning serenade, Eileen and I set off for Ryan Campground to wrangle some campsites for the large group we were anticipating.  Luck, it seemed, was on our side, and we managed to find 4 sites right next to each other that gave us a large swath of desert wrapped around the base of a rock formation to call our "home" for the next 5 days.

Eileen and I met up with Kelly and their friend, Rhesa, and headed over to Hidden Tower in the Real Hidden Valley area.  Other than wanting to try Loose Lady, I had not put together any tick list for this trip because I knew our climbing locations were going to be up in the air with all the people showing up.  My only plan was to start on an some easy 5.6s since I had been told repeatedly that Jtree was famous for sandbagged ratings.  So, of course, the first thing I did after being introduced to Eileen's friend, Matt, was to have him belay me as I led Sail Away, a "classic" Jtree 5.8.  I was pleasantly surprised to find that the route was a cruise and had a blast with the perfect hand jams.  Had I known it was the "thing" to do, I'd have led it entirely with nuts, as Matt did after I came down. We were joined by Darren (@dloo), Tiffany (@tiffanyroyal), and Randy (non-Twitterer at the time) and many "Hellos" and hugs were exchanged, and the three trouped off to their car to pick up their climbing gear.

At the Indian Restaurant in town (Photo by D. Lui)

Matt and I then both led Wild Wind, a slightly harder, more technical climb than Sail Away.  The crux of the route is a traversing section near the top of the route that required me to convince myself to stretch around a slight bulge and step onto slabby feet. I was still learning how Jtree rock felt, and, at the time, didn't realize that your feet stick to the stuff like glue so committing to the traverse was a bit daunting.  There really weren't a whole lot of gear options in the middle of the traverse, but I found a pocket that fit my yellow Alien perfectly.  Aww yeah, just like Tetris!  I love that cam!!  After I came down from Wild Wind, it dawned on me that I'd just led a solid 5.9, and in Jtree, no less! And, it felt easy!!  Oh yes, it was going to be a great trip.

We all ended the day messing around on Thin Wall.  Matt and I blasted up a toprope route as the sun was setting to darkness while Randy led a nearby trad route by headlamp.  Couldn't have asked for a better end to my  first day of climbing in Jtree.

Day 2, Thursday - Headstone Rock and Hobbit Roof

Looking out from our campsite, it was easy to spot the aptly named "Headstone Rock" that loomed out near the entrance to the campground.  Eileen had told me that the rock had "the headiest 5.6 you'll ever lead" so, of course, I had to try it.  Our numbers had increased late the previous night by the arrival of Jeremy (@jeremyshapiro), George (@sudarkoff), and Marcel, and they were happy to join us on our trip to Headstone.

Once we scrambled up the huge pile of boulders underneath Headstone Rock and I actually saw what the 5.6, Southwest Corner route looked like, I could easily see that Eileen's description was spot on.  The start of the route basically hangs out over open air and a slip before clipping the first bolt would result in you falling out into that air, and, unless they were anchored in, pulling your belayer down with you to the rocks below.  The climb itself goes up the most exposed corner of Headstone, and to add to the fun, the wind was whipping around that corner with gusto and glee.

After Headstone, we all decided to head over to The Blob in The Hidden Valley Campground Area. Some people went off to do The Bong while Randy, Eileen and I played on Hobbit Roof. In a display of utter awesomeness, Randy led Hobbit Roof like it was nothin'.  Wait, did I say awesome? Yes, AWESOME.  I flailed on the lower 10d slab section (I missed the easier hold for us short people and kept trying a long, iron cross sort of tall-person move) but managed to pull the roof after a couple tries and a squished and crunched left hand.  Eileen managed the slab section with ease and was also successful at pulling the roof. Kelly and Matt found us after they finished with Super Roof nearby, and both of them gave the route a try in the dark while lit up with headlamps.

We all headed to town after that to eat at Crossroads Cafe, because, really, what trip to Jtree would be complete without a visit to Crossroads.

Day 3, Friday - Hemingway Buttress and Space Station

Eileen leading chimney of Dung Fu

Our numbers had swelled significantly over Thursday night with the addition of many, many more people.  I was in a bit of a frenzy in the morning, running around hugging people left and right and stopping by to say HI and GOODMORNING to everyone while they were eating breakfast. It took a long time before we were all settled down and breakfasts were finished, but eventually we decided to check out Hemingway Buttress in the Lost Horse Area.

As soon as we arrived at the base of the crag, George racked up to lead White Lightening, and I headed up Dung Fu.  The route was way more fun than it looked, and I quickly reached the cave at the bottom of the chimney section.  Rather than deal with massive rope drag, I decided to belay Eileen up to the cave with me, and  I had her trail a line so we could belay up Marcel and Darren as well.  Soon we had a little party going on in the cave with the four of us.  Eileen then led the chimney section of the route, which I had a ton of fun following.  Have I mentioned that I love chimney routes?  Once we were all up at the top, Eileen set up a top rope on a 10c (I'm not sure which one) while I set a top rope on White Lightening.  I spent most of the rest of the afternoon belaying people up White Lightening.

At the end of the day, Eileen, Jeremy, Rick, George, Marcel, Nina M., and I were going to meet up with the rest of the group at Gunsmoke, but we were disappointed to find out we were too late.  Eileen then had the brilliant idea of checking out the sunset from the Space Station in Chimney Rock at the Hidden Valley Campground instead.  Getting up to the little cave required a little easy soloing and, in the end, only Eileen, Jeremy, Matt (who met up with us in the campground), and I went up.  The sky was gorgeous in shades of purple, magenta and blue and bruise-dark clouds.  It more than made up for missing out on Gunsmoke.

Day 4, Saturday - Touch and Go, Heart and Sole

Me leading Touch and Go (Photo by E. Ringwald)

Saturday was the last full day of climbing, and I sure as hell wasn't going to let the day pass by without climbing with Katie M, something we had both promised to do.  We all trouped out to the Echo Rock Area, and I had my eye on Touch and Go, a "classic" dubbed, "one of the best 5.9 cracks in Joshua Tree."  Katie and I chatted with a couple of climbers who had just finished the route to ask about the descent. "Oh, just walk back and there's a third class walk around the backside". huh ok, sounded like it was no problem at all.

I headed up the route and felt pretty good, but at one tricky spot I felt less than solid, and I think Katie could tell.  I could hear her quietly remind me to breathe and that she was there and she had me.  When I'm in the middle of a route, and I start to feel sketched out, I tend to stop, put my head to the rock, and breathe to get a handle on my fear and shake myself out of the headgames.  It's part of why I love trad climbing so much - the necessity and ability to control your fear.  It's normally me alone in the middle of the rock, and it's a point of pride that I can do it on my own.  Hearing Katie softly remind me that she was there, however, calmed me in a way that normally doesn't happen when my belayer shouts up from below, "You got this!!" or "You can do it!"  I appreciate those comments, don't get me wrong. They help to psyche me up and get me going when my spirits are flagging, but rarely do they, on their own, calm me down.  Now maybe it's just that it was Katie, or maybe she just had the perfect touch with me (yes, I can be pretty prickly sometimes), but as soon as she said something in that soft, supportive voice, my shoulders came down from where they were threatening to crawl into my ears, my grip relaxed, and I was fine.  Funny how that works sometimes, no?  After that, the climb was a cruise, and I made it to the top with no falls.  I brought Katie up and then the real fun began.

Katie finds coins in her shoe (Photo by D. Lui)

Ok, walk back and it's a third class, right? Hardly.  Katie and I wandered around on the top for a while trying to figure out how to get the hell down.  We finally shouted down to Eileen for some pointers, who was kind enough to start coming around the back of the rock to help get our stranded asses down.  Eventually we realized that we'd have to downclimb a chimney and a bouldery bit, and then another chimney... hehe well daaamn, if this was the Jtree equivalent of third class, I'd sure hate to see what a fourth class descent looked like.  Katie and I were having fun though - it was an adventure!! - and really, you could pretty much count on us getting into a bit of trouble like that.

Once we were successfully reunited with our gear at the base of the route, I looked up and realized that I'd climbed another solid and sustained 5.9 with zero falls!  Wait, is this trad climbing thing getting easier? Possibly. Was I happy about it? Hell yes.  Even better, however, was that I got to share the climb (and descent!) with Katie.  Shared memories of fun and adventure with someone I've been so very lucky to become friends with this year.  These are the things that makes trips like this so amazing.

After that, we headed over to the base of Heart and Sole, which Rick had led and set up as a TR for the rest of us.  Fun and tricky slab climbing combined with a finger crack lieback, warm sun, and the cheers of friends when I flashed the route.  Life doesn't get much better than that.

Day 5, Sunday - Gunsmoke

My last morning in Jtree was a mix of dragging my feet because I didn't want to leave and packing in a frenzy because I wanted time to try out Gunsmoke before I left. I could not, would not, leave Jtree after my second trip without at least seeing the classic traverse. Everything tossed back into the right bag, climbing and camping gear handed off to Jeremy and George who would take them home for me while I went on to Chicago for work, hurried but heartfelt hugs to those not coming to Gunsmoke with us, and a fast drive over to the Barker Dam Area.  Ah, finally... Gunsmoke.

I've never bouldered with a large group of friends before and I'm beginning to see its appeal.  Lazy morning sun, friends spotting you while others shift the crashpad around, shouts and cheers and words of encouragement - successfully getting through a section, while totally your own muscle power and climbing ability, is still a group effort and it just feels good that way.  I fell off about a quarter of the way through the long traverse at a reachy bit but have no doubt that someday I'll be able to send the whole thing. Maybe it'll take years and years, but I'll get it.

After only 45 minutes on the wall, I had to race out of there to catch my plane in Palm Springs.  I gave everyone a fast hug, picked up my shoes, and ran back towards the car. On my way out I saw Katie and Rick heading towards Gunsmoke, and Katie and I collided in a tacklehug.  I was really sad to say goodbye to both of them, but time waits for no monkey so I hurriedly gave them my love and hugs and ran away to the car.

Reflections
I'm sure you've noticed that most of this trip report has been mainly about the climbing and less about the socializing and getting to know people.  Despite all the words above, I'm still having a hard time describing how meeting everyone felt to me.  I've explained how cool it is to be able to meet people from our Twitter climbing community and feel comfortable with them right away in my previous posts about it, but this was just on such a larger scale that it blew me away.  I have snapshots of memories tucked away in my brain that I hope never to forget.  Nights in the town of Joshua Tree eating mediocre Indian pizza and amazing Crossroads Cafe food with my new friends, seeing the gorgeous sky from Space Station with Matt, Eileen and Jeremy, sharing stories around the campfire with everyone, playing pool with Darren at the Jtree Saloon, snuggling with Katie on the crashpad to keep warm by the fire, the look on Teri's face after I threw a marshmellow at her (nevermind that I just met her, it just felt right!), seeing Marcel's gigantic smile after he flashed Heart and Sole... none of these bits and pieces mean much to anyone else, I suppose, and it'll probably just sound sappy and over the top if I try to put how I feel into words.  Maybe it's enough to say that I went to Jtree expecting to have fun and meet people but came away feeling like I'd just made a new family.  I miss everyone and can't wait for the next Tweetup.

Thumbnails are all clickable and take you to my Picasa gallery  of Jtree pics

Larger photos are courtesy of Darren Lui and can be found at his Flickr Gallery.

Photo of me on Touch and Go is courtesy of Eileen Ringwald and can be found on her Photo Gallery.

Partial group shot (Photo by D. Lui)

Snuggling with Katie and Rick (Photo by D. Lui)

A boulderer friend of mine on Twitter recently joked that "Friends don't let friends climb crack." At the time I just laughed, but I'm beginning to see the need for such a warning. Once you start crack climbing, there's just no going back. The already all-consuming obsession with climbing turns into a burning new addiction that will leave you aching to stuff your hands into hand-chewing crevices and twist your feet into toe-squashing seams. Oh yes, I think I'm starting to understand...

I'd managed to avoid crack climbing for the first half a the year while learning trad on super easy routes that didn't really require crack skills.  I've always been enamored with crimpy face climbs and balancey slabs, and cracks generally reduced me to a whimpering pile of failed climber.  Around August, however, I realized that I was going to have to actually learn to use the cracks effectively if I wanted to progress in trad climbing.   Since then I've been slowly learning how to crack climb.  I've been lucky enough to meet and climb with experienced crack climbers who generously shared their tips and tricks with me and have also been cheered on in my newbtastic endeavors by other new-ish crack climbers whom I recently befriended.  In the last few months I've practiced crack climbing at the gym, the Leap, Yosemite, and Cosumnes River Gorge but it didn't really "click" until the last two weekends at Yosemite and The Grotto.

Yosemite, October 24-26

Commitment and Selaginella

The weekend started on Friday with a mellow cruise up the Regular Route at Sunnyside Bench with Adrienne and Jeremy. I led the first pitch, but after that I just followed as the third person so my day largely consisted of basking in the sun like a fat and content lizard at the comfy belay stations.

Adrienne and view of Five Open Books. Regular Route, Sunnyside Bench (click pictures for Picasa album)

Jeff and Kelli joined us at the campsite that night, and in the morning during breakfast I convinced Jeff to link Commitment and Selaginella with me while everyone else hopped on Munginella.  He was a little hesitant at first, but he was no match for my persistence and excitement.  I was ecstatic when he finally agreed to the route.

I'd led Commitment a few weeks earlier so I wanted Jeff to get a chance to lead the more interesting first (beautiful splitter crack) and third (roof) pitches.  I'd told Jeff how slippery the start of p1 was so he sort of shot past the first 8 feet it by reaching high and putting a foot on the tree at the bottom of the route. He cruised through the pitch and soon it was my turn to follow.  The first time I climbed Commitment, I was concentrating on placing protection rather than focusing on the crack climbing.  This time around I was able to just relax and enjoy the hand crack and put some thought into how I was using my feet in the crack.  I'm pretty sure I had a giant smile on my face when I reached the belay station.  Jeff and I had decided to trade lead the whole day so I cruised up the easy p2 and he led p3.  When it was my turn to climb around the "crux" roof, without thinking about it, I opted to use a hand jam to get up and around the corner instead of using a hold like I had the last time around.  Yes, I willingly used a hand jam instead of a known face hold!  Something was clearly shifting in my head...

After a short snack break Jeff and I started up Selaginella.  It was my turn to lead, and from the ground, the 165 feet pitch seemed awfully long. Jeff offered to lead it, but I made a face and declined the offer.  About half way up the pitch, however, I almost wished I had let him lead.  I hadn't really thought much about the little letters "O.W." printed next to the pitch on the topo map at the start of the climb, but it was becoming very apparent to me that it didn't mean there was just a tiny off-width section.  I'm sure someone shaped differently than I am would have had a completely different experience than I did, but for me it was just... awkward.  When there were smaller cracks in the back, I couldn't get both arms in to fully use them but it wasn't quite wide enough to chimney.  I wasn't really freaking out about the actually climbing since there were a lot of options to protect the climb, but I was afraid to use too much gear on the long pitch since I had no idea what to expect at the belay station.  As a result, I think I ran out the climb more than I otherwise would have (yes, this is starting to be a running theme in my leading...) and that didn't set my mind at ease at all.  I think I was moving slower than expected because Jeff yelled up that there was an optional escape route if I wanted to rap off. Yeah, great...

At one point, however, I looked down at left arm and broke out with a grin. Well whaddaya know?  My arm was in a chicken wing position! Holy crap I was using off-width techniques!!! I laughed a little and suddenly the rest of the climb didn't seem so daunting.  I totally forgot to look for the rap rings and went right for the top of the pitch. I whooped a little and then set up the anchor to bring Jeff up.  After Jeff reached the belay station, he told me that he couldn't figure out what was taking me so long until he actually started climbing the off-width.  Then, apparently, he got it. Heh.

My next challenge presented itself in the very beginning of p3 in the form of a really awkward off-width/chimney with a fat chockstone that was almost too big for me to get my arms past.  I set a cam so I wasn't terribly worried about making the move over the chockstone, but I felt so extremely awkward that it was messing with my head.  Suddenly my foot slipped on a dusty spot and I found myself dangling with my left hand wedged at the back-left of the chockstone and my right hanging on desperately to keep from weighting the left hand more.  I was a bit shaken and, once I got my hands free, I just sat on the rope a bit to shake out my hands and bruised upper arms.  Jeff asked how I was, and I just kept telling him "I'm ok. I'll get it."  I sort of grit my teeth, felt around and then, like magic, I easily got over the chockstone like it was no big deal.  Funny how that works sometimes.

The third pitch had more fun in store for me, however.  The cruxy part of the route is actually a section where you have to take a long step over nothing (you can see all the way to the ground!!!) around a slightly protruding corner to the belay ledge using face holds.  There was a new looking bolt in the wall just before the traverse so I was happy to clip into it before heading out.  The thing was, I wasn't sketched out in the slightest.  This traverse was cake compared to the crack climbing and off-widths I'd done earlier.  Also, don't forget, I love face climbing.  As I grasped the edge of the corner and took that first step, all I could think was, "Awww yeah..."  After that, Jeff blasted up the last pitch, and I yanked out a stuck 0.75 C4 on the way up. Booty!

I don't care how tepid Summit Post makes Selaginella sound or the snotty forum posters who bag on the climb for having some wandering, easy and not pure crack parts.  The climb had so much variation and different challenges that it was just plain FUN!  Also, it was my first successful off-width lead so I'm always going to remember it for that if nothing else.  I was pretty damn proud of myself that day.

Top of Selaginella - Me, Jeff, and Half Dome (click pictures for Picasa album).

Church Bowl Tree, revisited

The next day we all set off for Church Bowl, and, right off the bat, Jeff turned to me and told me that I was going to lead p1 of Church Bowl Tree.  Now this is a route that I completely failed at back in May so I wasn't really sure if I wanted to try it again after a night of too much wine and whiskey (i.e., yes, I was a little hung over).  Still, I'm never one to back down from a (reasonable) challenge so I racked up.  I put in two pieces but had to lower and restart when I realized I'd forgotten quickdraws for the nuts.  Once I started again, I was extremely happy to make it past the point that shut me down the first time I tried the route.  In fact, I found it pretty easy to get over the first hard part this time around.  The middle of the pitch was also easy, but then I was facing the section of finger locks and marginal feet.  At this point the previous night's whiskey and the past 2 days of climbing was making itself known, and I was feeling pretty out of it and beat.  Still, I managed to get up to right below the anchor chains.  It was ugly, there were a couple falls, and I had to rest, but, dammit, I got up to the top!  Once there, however, I was denied by the last move to get up to the chains.  I managed to just touch the bottom of the chains a few times but couldn't actually get up to them.  A much better climber than me on Twitter assured me that the last move is height dependent and told me, "It's an impossible mantle onto a horribly sloping shelf with no feet. Schwat?? I just clipped the chains and called it good."  So I feel ok about not actually clipping the anchor chains.  Even without the last move and an ugly climb to boot, I felt awesome for having led a climb that had previously defeated me.  I'll go back sometime and try it when I'm fresher (and, yes, not hungover).

Me leading Church Bowl Tree with Jeff belaying (click pictures for Picasa album).

The Grotto, October 25

I'd heard a lot of good things about The Grotto so I decided to head up there for a day with George.  The Grotto is a surreal sort of place - you drop into a pit and you're surrounded by basalt columns and cracks on one side and a bulgy, lumpy sport climbing wall on the other.  The temperature is noticeably cooler on the floor of the pit than up top, and I started the morning with my climbing shoes in my jacket to warm them up.

After an easy warm up on Sidesaddle, a 5.9 sport climb on the Ort Wall, I led Table Manners (5.8), a fun route with two cracks you stem across. Then I hopped onto Go With the Flow (5.9) and had a blast with the hand jams. SO MUCH FUN!!  While I took a break to eat a snack, I stood under Three Fingered Jack and contemplated leading it.  It's rated 10b, which would make it the hardest trad route I've ever led.  I wanted to do it but wasn't sure I could manage it so I put my hand into the crack and let it convince me to give it a shot. As soon as I started the route, I relaxed because knew it was going to be fun.  The crack was PERFECT for my hands, and it was exhilarating to cruise up the crack with that much ease.  I love, love, LOVED it.  To be fair, I think the rating is a little soft since p1 of Church Bowl Tree in Yosemite was harder for me and its rated 10a.  Still, whatever the "true" rating might be, it was awesome.  George was initially hesitant to try the route, but I think my enthusiastic reaction convinced him to give it a shot.  He flashed it on top rope and seemed just as excited about the route as I was.

After that, George and I top roped Granted (5.9), which I found more difficult than Three Fingered Jack because it was essentially an off-width for me, and I spent most of the route stuffing my whole forearm into the wide cracks.  George, however, found it to be perfect for his much larger hands and fists. Finally, I finished the day by top roping AC Devil Dog, a fat, refrigerator-wide slab with not much other than friction for the feet. It was a fantastic day of climbing!

Reflections

I'm more than a little OCD about fitting things together and packing as many things as possible into a given space (i.e., a car or moving truck). I can't help it. There's something about putting pieces together tightly and efficiently that just tickles some part of my brain so that it feels good when everything fits "right". I think crack climbing has the same effect on me. Perfect hand jams almost make me want to shout out loud with joy and bomber finger locks feel like dropping the long, skinny Tetris piece to clear 4 lines at once.  Off-widths, while burly and hard, are like tricky puzzles, and you have to figure out how to make your body fit right to make it work.  Oh yes, I'm addicted. More please!!!

Dinosaurs on Highway 120

Lovers Leap again and meeting Rick. August 22, 2009.

Ask anyone who knows me, I'm a hugger.  Its just in my nature to hug people I'm friendly with instead of shaking hands, slapping backs or similar reserved nonsense.  Oddly, when I met Ben Pope (@benpope) for the first time earlier in August, I held back on my customary hug out of some strange notion that it might alarm him, and I gave him an awkward handshake that made me worry he was going to think I didn't like him all that much.  When Jeff and I met Rick (@rikray) at the Lovers Leap parking lot on Saturday morning, I decided I wasn't going to hold back - I gave in to my initial impulses and gave him a proper monkeygirl hug.  He wasn't alarmed at all and, in fact, hugged back just as good as I gave. I knew right then that the weekend was going to be fun.

Now, I had planned on climbing a bunch of 5.7 routes that weekend like Surrealistic Pillar and Corrugation Corner with no thought to anything harder. When we arrived at the base of the East Wall, however, Rick started pointing out routes including The Line, which he recommended it as a great 5.9 route. I gazed up at the striking crack, glanced over at Jeff, and decided I'd give it a try. After getting some beta from Rick about the first piece of pro, I racked my gear and headed up. While feeling fairly confident, I'd never led a 5.9 trad climb before so I started out by stitching up the pitch with a lot of pro. I reached a slick section and, after setting a nut, I floundered around a while trying to figure out how to get up and over the section. I tried a few moves and, while stretched out above the piece, I suddenly slipped and took my first trad lead fall! It happened so quickly that I didn't actually have any time to get scared, but I was very pleased that the nut held. Once I knew the piece was solid, I wasn't afraid to try the move like I should have in the first place - by committing to a somewhat bouldery move (bouldery for me, at least, probably not so much for my partners).  After that, all my initial head flutters disappeared, and I  finished up the rest of the pitch much more quickly than the first third.  Rick lead the second pitch, and Jeff lead the third, and it was all very fun climbing.

After we descended from The Line, we hopped onto Labor of Love . Jeff lead it first and rappelled down then I tried it as well.  Although most of the climb was dike hiking, some of the dikes were pretty damn far for my 5'2'' reach so the climb was pretty balancey and heady.  SuperTopo describes the crux as "extremely height dependent and could probably be rated like this: 5.9 if you are taller than 6’0”, 5.10c if you are 5’9”-5’11” and 5.11 if you are 5’8” or shorter," but I was determined not to pull on the gear.  I tried my damnedest to get around the section by traversing far around to both sides of the crux.  I had just realized how far out and above the bolt I was when I slipped and took a nice long whipper.  Luckily, Rick gave me a nice, soft catch so I was barely jarred at all.  I wasn't really scared, but I had a moment of total frustration with the long reaches and half-seriously asked "Can I come down now?"  As soon as I said it, however, I shook myself, leaned my head to the wall, took a deep breath, and kept going.  I ended up just pulling on the quickdraw to get over the crux, but I will come back to that section someday and try it as a dyno.

The thing I learned on this trip is that I can be super ballsey the first day out. I'll jump on lead and take on harder routes than I've tried before. The same is not true for day two of a trip, however.  Jeff and I hit up Cosumnes River Gorge on Sunday (we were rained out of the Leap but didn't want to stop climbing), and I was the world's biggest wimp about leading cracks.  Sure, I tend to sketch out when all I have to rely on when first coming off the deck is a loose fist jam, but the main problem was just that my head wasn't in it.  I may have been the biggest badass the day before, but I was reduced to a quivering mass of FAIL that day.  Just goes to show how important the head game is to sending.  Despite my inability to lead, I still had a great time top roping and hanging out with the other climbers at the crag.  All in all it was a fantastic, almost perfect, climbing weekend.

Click on the pictures for larger versions.  Also check out my Picasa site for the full album of pictures from this Lovers Leap trip.

Knights Ferry, metal dinosaurs, and meeting Katie. September 11, 2009.

I know I am prone to being over enthusiastic about most everything, but I really can't say enough good things about Katie. She's a climber and skydiver who is wonderful, energetic, sweet, caring and badass.  Her enthusiasm is so infectious that its spurs me on to try new things and seek out new experiences. I've had the pleasure of getting to know her through Twitter (@katiebeth) over the last few months, but I couldn't wait until October to meet her in Yosemite at a tweetup I'd planned so we decided to meet up in Modesto when she came home for a weekend to visit her family.  We had so much fun going to lunch, taking her little sister to Knights Ferry to explore, and climbing at her local gym.

Pictures from our fantastic day. Click on the pictures for larger versions. See the full album of pictures on my Picasa site.

First Annual Yosemite Tweetup. October 2-4, 2009.

I went a little nuts in May after a great Yosemite trip and booked multiple weekends in October at campgrounds in and near the Valley on the off chance I could get people to go with me.  It turned out that my regular climbing partners couldn't make it to the first weekend so I either needed to cancel my reservation or figure out something else to do with the weekend.  Rather than waste the reservation, I decided to turn it into a mini-tweetup (mini since I could only fit 6 people into the campground), and asked 5 Twitter climbers to join me.  Luke (@lstefurak), Lizzy (@lizzy_t), Rick (@rikray), Katie (@katiebeth) and George (@sudarkoff) all said yes!

George and I went up early on Friday and hit up Commitment as soon as we got down to the Valley.  The first pitch started out a bit slick and unpleasant but quickly turned into a fantastic hand crack that made me realize why people love crack climbing. Pitch 2 was an easy face climbing cruise with a small roof.  Pitch 3 contained the crux - a roof that you climb under and around.  I actually didn't find the crux all that difficult though I had a little trouble reaching the crack under the roof.  I had to use a small crimper hold to get myself higher up on the face under the roof in order to get my hand into the crack.  You do have to commit to come around the roof (hence the name), but it's a well protected move so there's not much to worry about.  I actually found the slippery start of p1 more heady than the roof crux.  After Commitment, George did his very first multi-pitch trad lead (first trad lead ever!) on Munginella. He pretty much ate up the route and cruised through the whole thing without any trouble and with only a few pointers from me. When we got back down from the climb, we found that a bear had ripped up both our packs!  I guess I still have much to learn about climbing in Yosemite.

Aftermath of Bear v. Pack

When we drove in to camp, we were greeted by Katie. Luke and Lizzy arrived later that night, and Rick joined us in the morning.  The 6 of us decided to check out Pat and Jack Pinnacle since there was a mix of trad and sport of various levels.  I attempted and failed at an easy off-width, which I plan to come back and try without my rack on, but then successfully led Nurdle . Luke had set up a top rope for Skinheads and Underclingon so George, Katie, Rick and I all had fun attempting the traverse on the Underclingon.  Luke, Lizzy and Rick headed back to camp while the three of us remaining all climbed Skinheads before returning for a delicious curry rice dinner, courtesy of Luke and Lizzy.

After a fun and relaxing night of sitting around a warm fire while Rick and Katie softly played the guitar, we woke up to find the campgrounds covered in snow!  It made for a beautiful, if cold, morning and I was pretty thrilled to have experienced my first snowfall while camping.  I've been camping in the snow before, but it's never snowed on me while I was sleeping before.  Hey, what can I say, I like new experiences!  Needless to say, it scrapped our climbing plans for the day, but it made for a fun touristy morning in the Valley.

Unfortunately I forgot my camera so I just have the few iPhone pictures above.

Taking my best friend on her first multi-pitch trad climb. Donner Summit. October 7, 2009.

I have been hoping to get my best friend, Adrienne (@adrienneknits), to climb with me outdoors for a while, but she hasn't really been into it the last couple years.  Out of the blue, she recently said she'd like to try following me on a multi-pitch trad climb.  I jumped at the chance and set a date as soon as possible before she could change her mind.  I decided to take her to Donner Summit because I knew Schoolhouse Rock had a great beginner climb, Kindergarden Crack, that I could take her up. I went over anchors, lead belaying, and belay transitions with her at my house, and we were ready to rock.

We got an early (though not absurd) start and arrived at Donner Summit around 9:30 or 10. After I racked up and we went through safety checks, I started climbing.  About 10 feet off the deck, I suddenly realized that I was a little bit sketched out by having Adrienne belay me.  I've been climbing with Adrienne for a few years now so I trust her completely, but that's all been top roping and this was lead belaying.  She'd given me no reason to worry about her belaying or anything, but it was just that she'd never caught a lead fall before, and I weigh more than her.  I was committed to this outing though, so I shook the head trash off placed my first piece of pro.  After a little while, I stopped thinking about it entirely and just enjoyed the climb.  We did the route in 3 pitches, including some super fun slab climbing, and Adrienne was beaming when she got to the top.  She immediately said, "Let's do it again!" so I suggested we try Junior High, a slightly harder route.

The first hitch occurred at a bouldery move that requires you to commit to a reachy (for us short people) mantle.  I ended up needing to set up a z-rig to get her over the short section.  Pitch 2 was fine and we got through it without much trouble.  At the start of pitch 3, I couldn't figure out which crack was the correct way to go.  When I climbed the route with Jeff and Jeremy a few months back, Jeff went up the most vertical crack available (which didn't really look all that 5.6ish to me).  I chose a wider, stemmable crack that seemed easier.  Halfway up the chimney, I realized the second half would require some straight on crack techniques that Adrienne didn't know about so decided to hop out onto the left side for some face climbing.  Turns out that I chose very poorly.  Getting out of the crack required a completely committed step left and swing around an arete that left me feeling a little sketched out and exposed.  Then I had to lie back a short section with bad, mossy, slippery feet.  I knew that Adrienne was not going to like those sections at all so I did not top out.  Instead I set up an anchor close to the lieback section so I could talk her through the moves.  As I predicted, she wasn't happy with my routefinding skills.  In the end I set up the z-rig again to help her over the bad sections.  We quickly finished up the climb as the sky darkened and the temperature dropped noticeably.

To my relief and happiness, Adrienne was not turned off to multi-pitch trad climbing.  In fact, she's decided to join me, Jeff, Kelli, and Jeremy on our next trip to Yosemite!!

Click on the pictures for larger versions. See the full album of pictures from this Donner trip on my Picasa site.

Lover's Leap East, Main, & West Walls as seen from Hogsback (Photo by B. Pope)

So here’s the thing. Ben and I had been following each other and chatting on Twitter for a while and had read each other’s trip reports, but we’d never met in person or climbed with each other before.  I know, I know… he could have been a serial killer or, possibly worse, an awful belayer.  Even so, I decided to take a leap of faith based on having gotten to know Ben a little through our very chatty and wonderful Twitter climbing community.  Meeting up with Eileen (@rockgrrl) in Tuolumne and climbing with her was such a positive and fun experience that it made me eager to meet more Twitter climbers in person.  (Eileen even vouched for me when Ben joked about the possibility that I was a mass murderer.)

The moment of truth came when I went to pick Ben up late Saturday morning. He stood up from where he was sitting on the curb with his gear, and I peered at him from the car.  He didn’t look like a serial killer…heh.  A flurry of “Hellos,” “nice to meet yous,” gear tossed into the car, and we were off.  Now I don’t know how Ben felt about the drive up, but I thought we got along quite well right off the bat.  We chatted most of the way up while Ben looked up routes for us in the guidebooks and played DJ.

Saturday - Luther Spires

Me top-roping Beer and a Hotdog, Two Bits (Photo by B. Pope)

We arrived at the Lover's Leap campground around 4pm, and we were lucky enough to secure a site. Since it was late in the day, we decided to hit up Luther Spires for some top rope and sport climbing fun rather than trying any trad.

Me laughing at Ben for taking pics right next to me (Photo by B. Pope)

I texted Jeff, and he and Kelli said they’d join us there too. A drive and a trudging, uphill slog… and then we were at Luther Spires.  I had just started to lead Dog and Grigri, Two Bucks when Jeff and Kelli joined us.  In addition to that route, we did Beer and a Hotdog, Two Bits, and Cheap Commercial Steak Sauce, Two Fifty – some on top rope, others on lead.  We didn't do anything particularly hard but the routes were fun.  After the long drive and uphill hike, it was just nice to stretch out and touch the rock.

The setting sun bathed the rocks in a soft, golden glow that put me in a relaxed and happy state of mind.  Climbing with the gorgeous view of the valley below in the mild summer air was pretty much the perfect way to end a day.  I suppose it also gave Ben and I the chance to suss out each other’s abilities and habits before trying out any multi-pitch trad together, but I don't think it really crossed my mind at all.  I felt comfortable climbing with Ben from the moment I tied in to lead the first route.

A little before the sun completely set we packed up and hiked back to the cars to drive to South Lake Tahoe for a delicious pizza dinner.

Sunday - Lover’s Leap

Kelli ready to head up Knapsack Crack (Photo by J. Fiore)

I had foregone the rigamarole of setting up a tent in favor of sleeping out on a tarp on Saturday night so I was able to enjoy waking up slowly to the dawn light filtering through the trees around 6am. I didn't have to wait long before Jeff crawled out of his tent (he and I always seem to be the first ones up).  It was a new climbing day, and I felt GLORIOUS! (Cutting back on caffeine the prior week probably had a lot to do with my new-found morning energy, but I prefer to give the credit to being outdoors...)

Jeff and I perused the guidebooks and decided on Hogsback to give Kelli something easy to climb for her first, long multi-pitch climb.  They'd climb Knapsack Crack while Ben and I would do the 5.7 variation of Deception.

Ben and I decided to do the route in 2 pitches, and he graciously let me lead the whole thing.  We cruised through the climb without difficulty and met Jeff and Kelli at the top.  After a snack and water break, we all headed back down to try other routes.

Jeff and Kelli decided to try the regular 5.6 route on Deception while Ben and I went over to try Harvey Wallbangers, Right.

Jeff belaying Kelli at the top of Deception (Photo by me)

Ben let me lead again, and the first pitch was an easy cruise.  The second pitch, however, was a different story.  I didn't have doubles of the larger sizes in my rack and I'd left 3 of them back in the anchor.  This left me with a lot fewer cams to work with than I needed for that particular pitch, and, for some reason, I kept forgetting I had hexes and nuts.  I was worried about running out of gear for the crux move and bulge at the top of the pitch, and I ended up needing to run out the climb more than I really wanted to.  While running out the climb didn't bother me by itself (the climb was easy), the lack of gear that was forcing me to run it out really bugged me and left me feeling a bit sketched out.  I like to be prepared for everything, and thinking I didn't have enough gear really didn't agree with me.  In addition, the wind picked up in the middle of the pitch, obliterating all other sound.  For some reason this made me feel really alone and exposed, despite the fact I could see Ben below me.  Combining it all together ended up making the pitch a lot more heady than I would have ever expected.  In the end, though, the crux and bulgy bit at the top were pretty easy and straightforward, and I was a little surprised at myself for letting my head get away from me.

Jeff, Ben and me on the top of Hogsback (Photo by K. Fiore)

We hiked down off Hogsback, and Jeff and Kelli packed up to head back home. Ben and I didn't feel quite ready to leave yet,  but it was about 4pm by the time we got back to the car to refill our water bottles and snacks so we didn't really think we could do another multi-pitch route.  Instead of messing around with single pitch routes, we just decided to have some fun playing around on the campground boulders.

Ben in the middle of Mushroom Cap boulder (Photo by me)

We didn't have a crash pad so mainly played around V0 and V1s, including an easy V0 traverse around the backside of Monks Rock which could be joined to a 5.7 chimney climb to the top.  I came around the traverse, stopped to give the chimney a half minute of thought, then went right on up.

5.7 chimney on Monks Rock (Photo by B. Pope)

Once I got to the top, however, I didn't really like the idea of down-climbing the chimney.  I scrambled to a low point on the boulder and asked Ben to toss up the rope so I could set up a top rope to rappel off the bolted anchors on top of the large overhang/roof of the boulder.  Once I had the gear, Ben climbed up the chimney too, and we set up the top rope so he could try the V2 problem under the roof.

A couple guys we'd met the night before (Planet Granite SF regulars; we let them share our campsite) came by and asked if they could use the top rope too so we let them try the climb first.  Neither of the guys were able to finish the V2 much less the V4 that shares the same start, and we were all beginning to think that the route was mis-rated.

After they both gave up, Ben gave it a shot.  He made a couple valiant attempts to get over the roof, but wasn't able to either.  By this point I knew I had no chance, but I tried anyway.  Of course I didn't make it, but it was still fun.

Ben and I climbed up the other side of the chimney to take down the top rope anchor and rap down again.  We then finished out the evening climbing on the two V1s on the northwest face of the Mushroom Cap boulder.  It was pretty much a perfect day of climbing.

Ben on the V2 of Monks Rock (Photo by me)

Reflections

Two things particularly made this trip stand out - 1) my reaction on the second pitch of Harvey Wallbangers and 2) climbing with a completely new person I'd met online. My reaction while climbing opened my eyes to how just a couple things can turn an otherwise easy climb into a heady route.  While feeling sketched out about not having enough gear and having to run out protection is pretty obvious, I was surprised at how the wind affected me.  By blocking out all other sound, it forced me even deeper into my own head.  I could probably turn that into a positive thing at some point, but I know, for now, I really don't like feeling as alone on a pitch as that made me feel.  Still, I'm pretty happy I learned these things about myself on an easy climb with beautiful weather.  Knowing how I react will make it easier the next time I find myself in a similar situation to control my head.

As for meeting a relative stranger and climbing with them, this experience has just left me wanting to meet more climbers. I've rambled on and on before about how cool the Twitter climbing community is and this weekend was just another confirmation of that fact.  People thought I was crazy to want to climb with someone I'd never met, but I didn't feel unsafe or uncomfortable with Ben belaying me at any point in the weekend.  Interestingly enough, I felt that way climbing with Eileen in Tuolumne as well – I guess maybe there’s something to getting to know climbers through Twitter and their blogs after all.  Now I'm sure there was a chance we could have rubbed each other the wrong way or had absolutely zero in common in addition to the possibility we might not have climbed well together, so maybe I got really lucky.  In any case, I had a total and complete blast, and I'd like to think I've made a new, real life friend through Twitter.  It's sad that Ben has to go back to Boston at the end of this week, but I'm sure we'll keep in touch online.

Me at the top of Mushroom Cap boulder at the end of the day (Photo by B. Pope)

View driving up Tioga Rd. to Tuolumne Meadows

Tuolumne Meadows, July 14, 2009.

Now, say what you will about Twitter, but I am lucky enough to be part of a great community of climbers online who share adventures and jokes, support each other through injuries, lust after gear together, and swap beta on crags.  Through this group I reconnected with Eileen (@rockgrrl), whom I met seven years ago under truly geeky, non-climbing related circumstances.  She recently invited me to meet her in Tuolumne Meadows while she was on a 9 day trip with friends.  After about 2 seconds of hesitation, I told her I’d take the day off work on Tuesday and come up.

I was out the door by 4:15 am with multiple episodes of Dirtbag Diaries to keep me company, and I was at the Tuolumne Meadows Campground by 8:30. I met Eileen and her friends, Peter, Jamie, Cliff and Vina, and we spent a leisurely morning chatting, checking out what gear I had, and perusing the topos of West Crack on DAFF Dome. When we finally got to the crag, we discovered we’d have to wait for two groups ahead of us.  We sat back in the sun for an hour or so until Peter and Jamie headed up West Crack (they were planning on breaking off in the second pitch to head out on the traverse of Blown Away).

Jamie on the 1st pitch of West Crack

Eventually Eileen and I got on the wall, with her leading the first pitch.  The first move was a burly, bouldery move with the potential to bounce off the starting ledge down another 20 or so feet to the ground if you didn’t stick it.  My head and body weren’t fully in the game yet, having just driven from sea level to 8600 feet on little sleep so I was happy that I wasn’t leading that start.  Cliff helped us out by clipping the single bolt that protected the start, and Eileen cruised up the rest of the pitch.

I seconded and discovered that the belay station was actually below the intimidating overhang I originally thought was part of the first pitch.  Once I was clipped into the anchor, Eileen told me she wasn’t feeling up to leading the overhang and was considering our options.  I thought about it a bit and realized I was feeling good enough to take the lead despite sucking pretty badly at overhangs normally. Cleaning the first pitch gave me a chance to warm up and get my lead head on, and I was surprisingly calm and relaxed.

Eileen at the 1st belay station

I pulled a bomber low hold and was up in the crack of the overhang.  Leaning in, I placed a cam and clipped in.  I was at an awkward, half sideways angle, and I couldn’t seem to get my hand set in the fist crack.  I could feel myself tensing up and my breathing start to get a bit harsh.  Oh, hello, Fear… nice to see you again.  I dropped my head, closed my eyes, and told myself to breathe deeply and relax my shoulders.  My head cleared, and I realized I could turn my left leg for solid knee bar.  With my leg set I was able to reach at full extension high above me on the left to a massive hold.  When I stretched to match with my other hand, suddenly my legs swung out, and I was dangling by my hands with absolutely nothing under me!

Surprisingly I didn't feel any fear…just pure exhilaration! I whooped and laughed, swung my right leg out to stem the wide crack, and then I was up and over.  I set up an anchor so I could bring Eileen over the roof before going on to make communication easier.  After she was set up, I lead the easy, wide crack with lots of knobby footholds on the face.  I missed the recommended belay ledge and stopped to build an anchor for a hanging belay.  Once Eileen was standing on the belay ledge below me, I told her I needed to fix the anchor because the angle of my hanging belay was killing my back.  A little rope and anchor fussing and then Eileen was up next to me.  She led the next, very cool finger crack (I definitely want to go back to lead that pitch) and I finished up the easy final roped pitch.  Eileen and I relaxed and snacked on some cheese and bread while waiting for Vina and Cliff to join us.  The four of us headed up the 4th class (with one 5th class move) to the top of the dome and were greeted with a breathtaking view, faintly tinged pink by the setting sun.  We rappelled down to find that Jamie and Peter had graciously brought my backpack over to the bottom of the rappel so we could put our shoes on for the headlamp-lit hike back to the cars.

Getting to climb with Eileen was incredibly awesome - I hadn't expected to be so comfortable climbing with someone I'd basically just met, but I didn't get wigged out or worried at any point.  I also loved meeting her friends and climbing partners who were super cool and fun, and  I hope to climb with Peter the next time he visits family in the Bay Area.  Even though I didn't get home until 3am, the day in Tuolumne was so totally worth the drive and exhaustion (It was a full 24 hour adventure!). I would definitely do it again if given the chance (I'm looking at you, @katiebeth!)

Eileen and I on top of DAFF Dome

Picasa album of Tuolumne photos

Eileen's trip report about the same day

Donner Pass, July 19, 2009.

Jeff, Jeremy and I had planned on climbing on Sunday the 19th but hadn't picked a location yet.  I was still high from my trip to Tuolumne and was jonesing for more granite, but Jeff suggested another day at Castle Rock.  I was bummed but willing to go there if that's what the guys really wanted.  I told them that Donner Pass had multi-pitch trad on granite, cooler weather, and was only 3 hours away but that I'd be happy to go wherever they wanted to, of course.  =) They, being awesome climbing partners, did not disappoint me and were happy to climb somewhere new.

An early morning start, a minor mix up at Jeff's pick up location, and then we were on interstate 80 driving eastbound towards the Sierras.  At some point I had Jeff switch to driving because I needed more sleep, but the trip was quick and painless with no traffic.  When we got to the exit for Sugar Bowl ski resort, we were greeted by a policeman who told us that the road was closed for a triathalon after the Sugar Bowl entrance.  What the heck? It never crossed my mind to check for local events that would close the roads!  Luckily the crag we were shooting for, Schoolhouse Rock, was only a quarter mile or so beyond where traffic was stopped so we parked the car and hiked over.

Jeff belaying Jeremy up 1st pitch of Junior High

I wanted Jeff and Jeremy to get a chance to take turns on lead since I'd just climbed in Tuolumne. I figured I'd just have a relaxing, top rope day.  We picked Junior High to start and Jeremy volunteered to lead first.  We opted for the straight start rather than the easier start off to the left that traversed across.  Jeremy started up but got hung up on a bulging, awkward section that required commitment to stick.  After giving it a few tries, and checking out different options, Jeremy came down and had Jeff switch to lead.  I sat in the shade of a giant flake and relaxed while I waited for Jeff and Jer to finish the pitch so I could follow.  I think at one point I even fell into a light sleep...ahh summer days.

We'd forgotten to bring another rope for the 2nd climber to trail up so the guys had to throw the end of the rope down for me.  It's a bit trickier than you might think to actually get the rope to land where you want it to, especially when the breeze would gust up.  Luckily it only took 2 tries to get the rope down to me.  I cruised up to the anchor whereupon Jeff asked me if I wanted to lead the next pitch.  I blinked a bit in surprise since I had expected Jeremy to take over but said I'd be happy to lead.  I took the rack and led the pitch with no problems.  Jeff then took the lead for the last pitch.

Jeff and I on top of Schoolhouse Rock with a view of Donner Lake.

Jeremy enjoys the view while coiling the rope.

Next we decided to head over to the Green Phantom Rock to mess around with sport lead and top ropes.  When we got there, we met some climbers from the SF Bay Area who were just relaxing at the top of the crag.  The passed out some cupcakes (yes, I ate one) and pointed out the anchors for the different routes. (I've met some seriously nice climbers outdoors....)

We set up a top rope for the Phantom Staircase, which consisted of 3 slab climbs from 5.8 through 5.10.  Jeff and I climbed the 5.10 while Jeremy climbed both the 9 and the 10.  I switched over to lead Road Kill, a short route with an intimidating start (bad fall if you don't stick it).  Jeff climbed it after me and then we packed up to go back to the Practice Slabs below Schoolhouse Rock so Jeremy could practice placing gear. While I was belaying Jeremy, Jeff went over to a local bar to get some post-climb beers for us.  At the end of the day, we sat at the Donner Lake overlook to sort gear while drinking cold beers and watching the sun set over the summit.  Gotta love lazy summer weekends with friends.

Picasa album of Donner Pass photos

Reflections

Sometimes I think I'm a little crazy and obsessed with climbing, but I think I can live with this kind of crazy.

I had been warned that Smith Rock in midsummer was blazing hot so, on the drive up to Oregon, I kept thinking I’d have to bust out some lawyerly and persuasive argument to convince Jeff and Kelli to wake up disgustingly early.  To my surprise and delight, one of the first things Jeff said to me upon reaching the cabin was that he was hoping to get to the park by 6am.  A cheer and a shout of assent from me, and we were set for a 5am departure time.

The next morning, however, our trio of climbers was down to just Jeff and I due to Kelli’s late night session with a wine bottle, some Scotch, and friends.  Though not climbing, my husband, awesome guy that he is, was perfectly happy to leave early with us to hike around.  Despite the park’s reputation as a sport climber’s paradise, Jeff and I were mainly interested in doing trad (although I did have my eye on a couple hard sport routes) so we chose Lycopodophyta on The Dihedrals to start.  It takes a little longer for me to warm up than Jeff so I was happy to let him lead the first pitch.  I lead the crack up the second pitch but hopped out when it turned grungy and plant-infested and finished the climb on the bolted top section of Bunny Face.  After we rapped down, we goofed around on the lower section of Bunny Face for a little while on top rope.

Right about that time, we started noticing the heat of the day cranking up - The Dihedrals are on a south-facing wall, and the sun had finally caught up to us.  By the time we got our gear packed up to move, the beautiful, cool morning had turned oven-hot.  I had heard many good things about the shadier Lower Gorge from my climbing buddies via Twitter (and I wanted to try a sport route called Pure Palm) so we trekked back out of the river gorge to find the way down to the other side.  Now, mind you, I’d just done a marathon the weekend before this so hiking back uphill with my pack and full trad rack was less than pleasant for my quads and calves, especially in that heat.

When we got to the top, I was feeling pretty wiped out.  Then, no doubt because I wanted so badly to check out the Lower Gorge, we couldn’t find the way down.  We wandered around on edges of the cliff top for a while until Jeff found a climbing school guide to ask what routes were nearby out of the sun.  The guide sent us in the direction of Northern Point, and we were happy to just set up anywhere in the shade, even on these shorter walls.  Jeff and I were feeling pretty draggy at this point, but I remembered that I had some caffeinated energy gels (i.e., Gu and Cliff Shots) so I passed one to him and quickly downed one myself.  The caffeine plus the cool shade worked their magic, and my mood, which had gone a little crabby in the wilting heat, flipped right around.

Now the main cliffs where we were earlier in the day are composed of volcanic welded tuff or, in other words, sharp, pointy rock with plenty of bite for your fingers and shoe rubber.  Northern Point, however, is part of the band of smoother, dark basalt rock that lines part of the river gorge, and I loved the feel of it.  Just rough enough for good friction but not enough to cut into your hands like the welded tuff; sweet and cool to the touch. (Yes, I am a climbing dork and love to feel the rock.)  Jeff and I took turns leading Double Time - a very fun single pitch 5.7 climb (Jeff made up a variation at the top).  After Double Time we were both too hot and dehydrated to climb anymore in hottest part of the day so we packed up and went back to the cabin.

Meadow Camp. July 4, 2009.

The next day we opted to hit a local crag called Meadow Camp near the Deschutes River in Bend instead of dealing with the heat up at Smith (which conveniently gave Jeff and Kelli some time to sleep off our drunken Friday night. heh. I never seem to sleep enough and woke up at 8:30).  We had no topos for the climbs and it was fun to scout out the rock to decide what we wanted to climb.  We found a spot that looked like you could do a 5.7 to warm up as well as some harder face climbing so Jeff set up both the ropes as top ropes.  I honestly wasn't expecting a whole lot but ended up having a total blast on those vertical faces, even trying a ridiculous, swinging dyno move that required me to flatten myself with my face to against the wall in order to barely reach the hold I was aiming for.  Needless to say, I didn't stick it, but I didn't care because I was having so much fun. =)

Reflections

Ok, I'll be honest.  I've been dragging my ass about posting this trip report.  At first I thought I was reluctant to post because I didn't have any pictures to go along with the report, but I eventually realized that I was hesitant to post this TR because of what other climbers would think about climbing such easy trad routes. I hate admitting that but it's true.  Now that I've entered the universe of climbers on Twitter, I find I sometimes get intimidated by the routes some of them climb.  I'm sure it didn't help that I was reading about @lizzy_t 's trip to Smith Rock and her send list on her blog, Dream In Vertical, and I know some of it was just disappointment about not getting down to the Lower Gorge.  Still, sometimes I can't help but feel I'm a pretty wusstastic trad climber. Before you say anything, I KNOW - IT IS DUMB! I've given myself a mental slap in the face and a bit of a stern lecture about how the ratings don't matter at all.  I even chatted with @rockgrrl about it a little via email.  The thing is, I had a FANTASTIC time both in Smith Rock park and at Meadow Camp hanging out with my friends and just playing on the rocks.  I have no idea why I wouldn't want to share that with people - damn the route ratings!  Anyway, hopefully there'll be no more silliness like that from here on out. I will also try not to spray too much about different ratings in the future.

Also, I'll try to actually take pictures for my blog posts =p

I was standing on the sidewalk at five o’clock in the morning on race day waiting for my running partner, Diane, to show up when the reality of “25,000 runners” started to sink in. The line of shuttle buses stretched out for blocks, empty buses slotting in to be filled with waiting runners as soon as a full one would rumble away. I appreciated the speed and organization of it all but was a little intimidated by the realization that I was part of a BIG EVENT ™.

Seething mass of humanity (Picture from www.rnrseattle.com)

Diane and I managed to find each other, and we hopped onto the next bus towards the start line in Tukwila. I was a little apprehensive about running the upcoming 26.2 miles because, to be honest, I’d slacked off of the training in the last month and a half for a variety of reasons – getting sick, feeling mentally and physically burnt out, wanting to climb more than run…

We arrived at the start line chaos early and ended up with a chilly, hour and a half wait before we needed to find our race groups. Slowly but surely, and in spite of my apprehension, I was starting to get amped up. Maybe it was the music (hey they played Don’t Stop Believing by Journey and you know that always gets me going!) or the black tea I’d drunk earlier, but really, I suspect it was the energy of all the people around us that was fueling me to speak at a mile-a-minute to Diane while waiving my arms around excitedly.

Now I am not a crowd person. In fact, I loathe/despise/couldpunchintheface crowds. When I am stuck in a crowd for any reason, I take off towards the edges and don’t look back, often shedding friends and family in the process. On this day, however, when Diane and I finally waded in to the middle of our corral (yes, they call race start groups corrals), I felt none of the claustrophobia and annoyance that I usually feel when packed into a space with others. You would think I would be completely freaked out by the (holy shit!) 25,000 runners around me. I mean, this was the epitome of a “seething mass of humanity,” and, even more frightening, it was entirely clad in polyester and spandex!

Instead of being even a tiny bit annoyed, however, I felt nothing but admiration and excitement for everyone around me. People were here to run a marathon or half marathon for a multitude of reasons – one woman was celebrating the honorable discharge of her stepson from the army, many people were raising money for leukemia research, one woman was running with her barely teenaged daughter, and one woman was celebrating the fact she was NOT getting married (see notes below!). Whatever the reason, I think you could call all of us a little bit crazy, and the energy of thousands and thousands of people getting ready to push themselves beyond the normal was invigorating and a bit awe inspiring.

Course map (From www.rnrseattle.com)

The gun finally went off at 7am but, because Diane and I were deeply entrenched in the cheap seats (Corral 25), we didn’t actually start running until about 7:45. Diane had some technical difficulties with her running watch and iPod, but once they were sorted out, she pretty much took off like a rocket. I had to gun it to keep up with her every time she sped up to pass someone (I suspect she’s competitive enough to really enjoy passing people like that.) Eventually I stopped suggesting that we slow down and just hung on. The first 10 miles were uneventful and fairly chill, even with the few hills, but I was starting to get hungry and hadn’t had a Gu (energy gel - think of jam in a convenient, single serving packet) in a little while.

The marathoners were split off from the half marathoners around mile 10, and they sent us to run on the Lacey V. Murrow Memorial Bridge, or, to be very clear, THEY PUT US ON THE FREEWAY. Sure we were completely separated and safe from the cars in a section of road used for variable direction traffic, but there were two lanes of loud, exhaust-y traffic on both sides of us. Combined with the lack of shade, hard concrete roadway, and gnawing hunger, I was starting to feel a tiny bit miserable. The clear sight of Mount Rainier in the distance helped a bit, but things got steadily worse when we turned around and went into the Mount Baker Tunnel. People had enough energy to shout and cheer while running through what was essentially an echo chamber, and the race organizers had had the brilliant idea to put a band in the middle of said echo chamber. My anti-crowd/vague claustrophobia was kicking in and I had to get out of there. My brain and body was starting to shut down, and I was feeling worse and worse by the second. When we exited the tunnel I told Diane that I absolutely had to stop at mile 13 to eat something. The rational part of my brain knew I was flirting with bonking and had to get fuel in me before it actually crashed down on me (If you’ve never bonked, imagine the worst you’ve ever felt and pile on depression and helplessness and you’ll get close).

Salt packets keep the leg cramps away.

I am, if nothing else, incredibly responsive to sugar, so one Powerbar and a few sips of Cytomax drink later, and I was back to my chipper self and ready to go again. The next 7 miles were fairly uneventful (read: one foot in front of the other) and I even really enjoyed parts of it - Seattle was definitely trying to impress us with the beautiful weather and views of the city and mountains. After mile 20, I even let myself think “Only 6 more miles to go!!” I started having some dehydration issues that weren’t being solved by the copious amounts of Cytomax and water I was drinking, but the medical volunteers were handing out little packets of table salt that helped keep the leg cramps at bay. Though very fatigued and in some pain from the repeated pounding on concrete (much harder than dirt and asphalt), I was feeling good enough that the tunnel around mile 21 didn’t faze me at all. In fact, I was even amusing myself by thinking about zombies and how running from them in that long, dark tunnel would be awful.

Around mile 23, however, things started to look really grim. The race organizers had put in several out and back arms to the course, and this last one was under open sun, heading out and downhill to the train yards. By mile 24 my optimism from the zombie tunnel had evaporated, and I was in a heads-down, painful grind towards the end. I toyed with the idea of telling Diane to go on without me while I walked, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I told myself, “It’s only a little pain” and that a little pain never stopped this climber and runner. I also told myself that I wasn’t suffering from any knee pain from my illiotibial band like I expected I would so I had no excuses. I just grit my teeth and kept going without saying anything to Diane. After the turn around, my heart/gut failed a bit in the face of the uphill run to mile 26, but the uphills hadn’t stopped me the whole race (in fact I actually enjoyed most of the uphills), and I was damned if it was going to stop me at that point.

The race organizers redeemed themselves with a glorious downhill turn onto an offramp just after mile 26. There are few things that make me feel as alive as running downhill towards a finish line so Diane and I took off as best we could given that we’d just run 26 miles. When we rounded the last turn and hit the flat stretch before the finish line, I wouldn’t be surprised if we were running a 9-minute mile. To my surprise and delight, I saw Adam off to the right waving and Diane’s family as well. I think I could have picked up even more speed – I almost always leave enough to gun it right at the end – but it was more important to me to hit that finish line with Diane than sprint it all out. We finished strong and our feet hit the timing plate at the same time.

Diane and I at the end of the race. (Picture by Adam Gulkis)

Official time: 5 hrs 6 mins

Things that got me through the marathon:
Cytomax, my Camelback, Gu energy gels, Cliff shots, one well-timed Powerbar, little packets of table salt, Podrunner music, iPod Shuffle, gorgeous Seattle weather, and an awesome running partner.

Memorable things observed during the day:

• A port-a-potty company with the unfortunate and slightly disgusting name, “Honey Bucket”
• A male marathon runner lighting up a cigarette at 6am in the middle of the rest of us runners.
• Two women wearing a shirt that said:
  • Non-refundable wedding deposit: $6000
  • Un-returnable wedding dress: $1500
  • Celebrating the fact that “ex” now precedes “fiancé” by running this marathon: PRICELESS.
• A giant bald eagle in a tree next to the racecourse around mile 8.
• Mount Rainier seemingly floating in the distance beyond Lake Washington

Things I learned about running and myself:

• If I want to beat a 5 hr marathon, I'll need to watch our pace (i.e., use the damn watch that Diane and Rob gave me)
• I can do a lot of things, even painful things, when I put my mind to it.
• Sugar alone does not keep me going for that long - I must have salty snacks!
• Zombies would probably eat me if they chased me during a marathon. I will have no weapons and little energy to run faster.
• Training with friends is the best way to do one of these monstrosities
• I prefer running on dirt, surrounded by trees, but road running isn't as bad as I used to think.

Would I do another marathon?

HELL NO…well, maybe, I mean I’ve done 2 now… I suppose it’d be nice to break the 5 hour mark… if someone asked me to… aw hell, you know I can’t say no.

Luke in Antarctica, Picture from the New York Times

Luke came to speak to the public interest law seminar I was attending at Santa Clara Law School during my second year, and he completely changed the course of my legal career. Before meeting him I had thought I'd go towards a policy job somewhere, maybe government. When Luke walked in the door, the first thing you noticed was his laughing eyes and enormous smile (and beard!). He began to speak about his work with the Center on Race, Poverty and the Environment and social justice in general and every word filled the room with enthusiasm. To me, however, it was even more than just enthusiasm; it was like a whip crack to my heart and a flipped switch in my head – one of those rare epiphany moments you get in life.

I suddenly realized that I wanted to do more with my law degree than I’d ever really imagined before. I wanted to do important work like he did and fight for people and causes few others did. I had already landed an interview with the CRPE for a summer internship prior to meeting Luke, but now I made it my mission to get that position and my excitement must been obvious because I was lucky enough to be offered the internship.

I have hoped to live up to his example ever since that first meeting. I met Luke for lunch last August when I was feeling particularly bleak about the political landscape of my job. When I’m stuck waging a particularly disgusting political battle, I sometimes forget that every fight I gird up for really does matter. I had told him I was an advocate suffering from a crisis of faith, and I think he could sense that I needed a kind word or two to keep my spirits up. While it shouldn’t matter so much what one person thinks of me, I have to admit that when Luke praised my organization for the work it, and therefore I, do, he chipped away the black crust of despair I was starting to feel about my job. I credit Luke with changing my path in life, so when he essentially affirmed and supported the choice I’d made, it was very much like zapping my flagging heart with one of those portable defibrillators.

There are few people in this world I consider a mentor, and even fewer still I would call one of my heroes. Luke was both to me. The world is a worse place without him, but hopefully people will carry on his work to make it better.

Luke's Memorial Page

SF Gate article about Luke's life and the accident

NYTimes Obituary

Donations to The Center on Race, Poverty and the Environment to help provide legal assistance to the grassroots movement for environmental justice

I popped awake on Saturday morning about an hour before the alarm was due to go off at 6. Despite the full day of climbing the day before, I was supercharged and ready to go. Jer and my other regular climbing partner, Jeff, and his wife Kelli had met up with us at the campground the night before so we were a full complement of four for the rest of the weekend. We hit the ground running and were at Church Bowl by 8:30.

Church Bowl Tree

Jeff decided that he wanted to try Church Bowl Tree, a 10b, single pitch climb that we thought was only 10a. I had my reservations given the difficulty of the runout part of my second pitch on Friday (nevermind that I was off route and not really on the 5.6 at that part), but I had faith that Jeff would nail it since he’s pretty much never failed to impress me.

Racking the gear for Church Bowl Tree (Photo by J. Shapiro)

After falling on his first piece of pro once (twice?), he made it to the bolt anchors about two thirds of the way up the pitch. There may have been a little bit where he stood on the bolts to cheat up a tough section, but I didn’t see it so I’ll just pretend it never happened. Not much long after that, Jeff made it to the top and set up a top rope anchor.

While Jeff and I were occupied with Church Bowl Tree, Jeremy taught Kelli how to lead belay and she picked it fast (Jer’s a great teacher, and Kelli’s just awesome.) Once Jeff had the top rope set up, Jeremy climbed the route, and Kelli gave it a shot as well (which I have to give her props for since she’s only been climbing for a couple months!)

Kelli attempting Church Bowl Tree (Photo by J. Shapiro)

After that, it was my turn to try the route on lead. I have to admit, after watching both Jeff and Jer have trouble at different parts of the climb, I wasn’t feeling too confident about my ability to climb the route at all. The fact that I had trouble on what I thought was a 5.6 section of Munginella the day before wasn’t helping my confidence much either. Of course, being a little stubborn, I figured I’d try it anyway.

I had trouble right from the first move. I’m not very comfortable with crack climbing (read: I suck at it) in the first place, and my inability to keep my feet on the now very warm rock meant that I ended up hanging all my weight off a right hand fingerlock repeatedly. Yes, the right side…with the (more or less healed) rotator cuff I injured back in winter. I managed to place the first piece of protection but had help with the second piece (in the form of a random, tall, climber dude who offered to place the piece for me by standing barefoot on a low hold and just reaching up. Heh.).

I kept falling on the pro and was getting more and more freaked out despite being only two short moves off the ground. I don’t actually think I was scared of decking – there were about 4 people spotting me. I think I was more terrified that I would fall really hard on that finger lock and tear my rotator cuff again. Regardless of the reason, the fear pretty much had the effect you’d think it would have. My breathing was getting more and more ragged, my arms were pulled in tight and getting pumped out, and I couldn’t think clearly enough to remember to try the necessary fist jam again.

After about the sixth or seventh attempt, I gave up and came down. Needless to say, I was feeling pretty low. I don’t think I’ve ever let fear get to me that badly before. Normally I just suck it up, take a deep breath and keep going. After coming down, all I could think was that I was a wuss who couldn’t climb anything. Yeah, it was pretty ugly. I sat there for about 30 minutes feeling completely depressed and mad at myself. Ugh.

Black is Brown

If you know me even a little bit, though, you’d know I can be knocked out of a bad mood pretty easily. We went over to Black is Brown, a single pitch 5.8, and all it took was Jeff handing me the rack and telling me I was going up to shake me from my funk (well, that and an ice cold soda Kelli had bought at the store for me).

Our rack (Photo by J. Shapiro)

The climb was fairly chill and a ton of fun. The crux was at the beginning at a part marked on the topo as “steep hands,” but I didn’t really have much trouble with it. At the top, instead of sticking to the crack system, I stepped out onto fun slabby section and ran it out to the top (have I mentioned I love slab? Well, I do.). I am so very glad that Jeff handed me the rack to get back on it while I was feeling low because I topped out feeling really confident and happy again.

I set up a top rope and had Jer start to lower me to the ground. Now, my SuperTopo guidebook says that the height of the crag is 80 feet, but I think they meant it is 80 feet straight down, way off to the right of the route. About halfway down the wall Jer looked up and yelled that I was coming to the end of our 60-meter rope (that’s 196.8 feet if you’re curious). We had a couple options, but, in the end, Jer attached the second rope and passed the knot to keep belaying me. I have to love that we’re comfortable enough with what we’re doing such that we had multiple options and could figure out a way to fix our situation. Jer, Jeff and Kelli all tried the route on top rope after I came down.

Swan Slab

We left Church Bowl after that and headed over to Swan Slab to play. Jer climbed up a 5.1 to give Kelli a chance to practice her newly learned, lead belaying skills while Jeff and I went off to mess around on some fun, unnamed slab routes on top rope. The next thing I know, Kelli’s very first lead belay turned into cleaning her first multi-pitch climb on an unnamed side route.

Jeff on slab (Photo by J. Shapiro)

Kelli's first multi-pitch climb (Photo by N. Suetake)

Jer at the top of the first pitch (Photo by J. Fiore)

Now remember, I just said that Kelli’s only been climbing for a couple months so the fact that she was comfortable enough to keep going up the second pitch is AWESOME.  Not only that, she also rappelled for the first time (taught by Jer on the fly) in damn near dark!.  I am always excited to meet women climbers and getting them into trad climbing is even better. Don’t get me wrong, I love my climbing partners, Jeff and Jeremy, and will climb anywhere/anytime with them, but I always think more women should climb.

Reflections

I was pretty surprised at how I could psyche myself out like I did. Something about the combination of knowing that trad routes in Yosemite are harder than similarly rated sport routes and indoor routes and feeling that I’m pretty terrible at cracks just completely and totally blew out my confidence before I even touched the wall. Climbing for me is a huge mental game, though, so I shouldn’t be too surprised that it works both ways – I can get myself super focused, calm, and dialed in or I can be a shaky pile of fear and doubt. It’s a good thing my friends know how to shake me out of a funk quickly, and I appreciate that they didn’t just let me sit on my ass the rest of the day. Hopefully I’ll know how to manage my thoughts a little bit better in the future to keep myself from undermining my own confidence.

Wherein I learn to love Yosemite even more, and I lead my first multi-pitch trad climb.

The idea of waking up at 3:15am on a Friday for a four hour drive after only two and a half hours of sleep would probably seem crazy to most people, and I confess, a few of my brain cells might have been screaming at me to be reasonable. The rest of my whole being, however, was humming with excitement! I mean, I was headed to Yosemite to spend the weekend climbing with friends - who needed sleep!?! Sleep is for the dead, they say, no?

Despite a panicky moment of lost keys, I managed to get out the door to pick up Jeremy, and we headed for the hills. After securing a campsite at Sweetwater Campground, we hit the Valley floor around 10am. On the drive in I had the pleasure of seeing Jeremy’s amazement at the gigantic, gorgeous, and glorious granite cliffs (whooh! alliteration!). Yosemite is one of my favorite places on the planet, and I love seeing people’s awestruck faces when they see it for the first time.

First views of El Capitan (Photo by J. Shapiro)

Climb One: Munginella

I had researched different climbs during the week, and decided that I wanted to try Munginella, a 3-pitch climb on Five Open Books that was rated 5.6. The crag is right next to Yosemite Falls so we paused a moment to enjoy the site of the waterfall, still swollen and crashing from early summer snowmelt.

Jer and I at the base of Yosemite Falls

Yosemite Falls (Photo by J. Shapiro)

Antsy monkey was antsy, though, so we quickly pushed on to find the climber trail to the base of the cliff. I was excited, a little bit nervous, and amped on coffee so our fast hike uphill to the start of the climb probably wasn’t the only cause of my thumping heartbeat. The exposed and slightly sketchy scramble up to the starting belay position shook out my jitters and got my head in the game – Focus, Monkey, focus! (Why yes, Nina, you can actually die out there!)

It took Jer and I a little bit to set up since it was our first trad climb since Red Rocks back in March and only my third trad lead ever. The first pitch went surprisingly well and nothing sketched me out. The first belay transition, however, left something to be desired. Well protected but slow, cludgey, and a bit frustrating.

The second pitch also didn’t go quite as smoothly as I hoped it would. I wasn’t really sure where the line went, and, as a result, I ended up zig-zagging across the face. I didn’t bring enough slings with me so the rope drag was pretty tremendous (ugh). I also failed to shift left to the dihedral crack at the top of the pitch (where I now realize I needed to go) and instead climbed up the face on two, thin, runout cracks off to the right. Even if the climb would have been cake (and I mean pretty fluffy cake even...) on top rope, there’s something about being so exposed that high off the Valley floor that made me have to take a slow, calming breath at one point. I managed to stick it though and placed two pieces of protection. When I finally hit the belay ledge I was so incredibly proud of myself that I may have done a little dance; after I set my anchor, of course.

A climber doing the route in two pitches met up with me on the belay ledge and asked to pass by. After introducing ourselves (his name is Stan) and chatting a bit (he complimented my placements), we did a funny little squeeze and shimmy past each other on the narrow ledge (interesting way to make new friends quickly) and he climbed on up.

Meeting new friends on the wall (Photo by J. Shapiro)

I belayed Jer up and we decided to sit and take a break and let the other party’s belayer (John) pass by. We devoured a PB&J sandwich and washed it down with water while taking in the view of Lost Arrow Spire and Half Dome. I was pretty content to sit there for a bit, gently kicking my heels on the rock and chatting with Jer.

Jer and I on the second belay ledge (Photo by J. Shapiro)

View from the 2nd belay ledge (Photo by J. Shapiro)

The third pitch was an easy cruise up the corner to the top, and I was soon standing on top of my very first multi-pitch trad climb. (Huzzah!!) There are a precious few times in my life where I’ve felt like I could conquer the world, and I can definitely say that this was one of them. I am fairly certain I did a little celebratory wiggle/dance at the top as well.

Stan and John were hanging out at the top so Jer and I talked with them for a while. Turns out they’re from the Bay Area as well and are both members of a Yahoo rock climbing group made up of people from the area. They waited for us to hike down the descent and kindly let us rap down the wet part of the trail on their rope.

Climb Two: Swan Slab Gully

By the time the four of us hiked back down to the Valley floor it was sometime around 4pm. After some discussion, we all ended up heading over to Swan Slab to check out the Swan Slab Gully climb. Jer and I planned on doing just the first pitch because of the time, while John and Stan set out to do all three pitches. Jer was leading this climb and made quick work of the short first pitch. After I climbed up to the first belay station, Stan started to tease us to try to get us to do the whole climb with them. It took Jer and I one glance at each other and we were in. The only problem was that neither of us brought our headlamps, shoes, or water since we didn’t originally intend to do the whole climb. John was still in the middle of the long second pitch, however, so I lowered Jer back down, he grabbed our gear, and climbed back up on top rope.

Jer had no problems with either of the next two pitches and things went pretty smoothly. The only hitch was the ravenous swarms of mosquitoes that attacked me at the second belay station. The bastards didn’t even have the decency to bite me on exposed skin. They just taunted me by biting me through my clothes! I spent the entire time wiggling and shaking my pony tail like a mane to keep them off me. We topped out and hiked back down with our new friends. Two multi-pitch climbs in one day. Not bad for our first day in Yosemite.

View from the top of Swan Slab Gully

Reflections

As I’ve already said, Yosemite is one of my favorite places on the planet. Nothing I’ve ever seen rivals its beauty – even with the hordes of people and craptastic Valley traffic you have to contend with on summer weekends. Now that I know that I can actually climb in Yosemite on multi-pitch trad climbs, the park holds an even higher place in my heart that it did before. Yes, that’s totally sappy but it’s true. The entirety of my being sings with happiness when I’m Yosemite, and I have more reason to go there now than ever before.

Our first day taught me that I CAN really do this stuff. With a little more practice, I know our belay transitions will get faster and cleaner. Also, I’ve found I can be a bit dictatorial at times about how I want things to go when I’m on lead, and I need to mellow it out a bit (I’m a bit of a safety bitch. Thank you for being patient with me, Jer!). It’s never out of a lack of trust, however, because there was never a time when I felt uncomfortable with Jer belaying me. It’s not a bad thing to be reminded that there’s a reason you trust your climbing partners with your life.