Pena Blanca Pt. 3 -- Testicles and Traverses

Three more problems for your viewing pleasure... and a sneak-preview.

Pena Blanca III from Dustin Payne on Vimeo.

Making The Most Of A Rainy Day

Driving east out of town, towards Mt. Lemmon, Tyler and  I realized there would be no climbing on the Lemmon that day. An ominius grey fog enveloped the mountains, and in town the light drizzle had become a steady rain. Wanting to squeeze some climbing out of this rare rainy May day, we turned the car around and headed west, towards the Tucson Mountains and the Silverbell Boulders. For some reason (possibly a rain shadow?) the Tucsons typically stay drier, and we thought the overhanging boulders at Silverbell would be our best bet for dry rock. 

We were sorta right. As we drove out, the roads and sidewalks were dry, usually a good sign. But the rain caught up with us just as we were unloading our crash pads. Unanimous decision - screw it, lets climb. And we did, for a while at least, until the rain picked up and things just got messy. Muddy shoes, soggy crash pads, dripping rock. We tried to make a day out of it, but called it quits about lunch time, loading our wet, stinky gear into the car and heading back into town.

Here is a short video of two of the burly little problems found in the A-Frame area of Silverbell. 

Return to Munchkinland

Still haunted by nightmares of flying monkeys and wicked witches, I was a little leery of returning to the crag called Munchkinland. We got off easy last time, with no one carried off by cackling winged primates, so I wasn't wanting to press our luck. But lured by the siren song of sweet granite, I rounded up a good size posse for a return visit. Along with some of the old regulars - Dustin, Tyler and myself - Austin recruited a few friends who were granted an honorary Team Tuesday day pass. Jason, Jennifer and Kaitlin had all climbed a little bit before, and seemed excited to climb. Rain clouds hovered over our heads most of the day, giving us a slight respite from the heat, and occasionally slight sprinklings of rain. Fortunately, the rain never fell too hard or for too long, and never kept us from climbing.

The Towers is the name given to the routes on the far left side of Munchkin Wall, and where lots of good easy to moderate climbing can be found, so we spent most of our day here. We had seven people and three ropes, so we looked a little bit like a Boy Scout troop at the crag - top-ropes, gear and stuff EVERYWHERE. We chased two other parties out pretty quickly, although they may have just been scared off by Austin's screaming.

Here are some photo highlights.

Dustin warming up:

Jason looking fierce following Clip, Clip Here (5.9):

Jennifer and Dustin climbing the "5.6" chimney, Miss Gulch. This climb goes up a four foot wide water groove that divides the two towers, and for a sport climb, is very unique. There are three planes of rock that you can use to climb, and at any given time your body may be facing any direction.

Finally reaching the jugs on a tricky 5.11 going up a beautiful orange face:

Tenacity, Pictured

Clayton talked about Austin's intensity and focus while climbing, and, yeah, the kid is fierce. Here is a picture I took a couple of weeks ago when Austin and I went to The Helmet. Austin was leading some very difficult 5.10's - bolted sparsely not for the beginning 5.10 leader but as warm-ups for the 12's and 13's - and took a bunch of good falls. Undeterred by repeated blows to his knees, shins and elbows, Austin would take whipper after whipper, then get back on a keep going. Here was the end result from the first 5.10 we did.

The Wirth of a Man

Break out the Colt .45, get Billy Dee Williams on the phone-- tell him to open his own refreshing malt beverage of choice --and, now, pour some out for our homie Austin Wirth. He's all done with Tucson but for the leaving and the presidio and Team Tuesday in particular are going to be the lesser for it.

Austin brings a grim-eyed intensity to climbing. Before each climb he dips into his chalk bag and examines the route with his lips pressed into a thin, white line. More than one incautious climber has injured himself by looking directly at Austin when he is preparing for a climb. The intensity of his gaze travels at such high a wavelength that even brief eye contact can cause instantaneous and irreparable brain combustion. The other danger is to glimpse Austin, with chalked hands and pressed lips, standing in direct sunlight-- an aspect which can snow-blindness and macular damage after only a few seconds of exposure. The issue here is not so much that Austin is pigmentationally-challenged, but rather that his other-worldly corpus bends, reflects, and magnifies certain wavelengths of light that human beings were never meant to encounter.

When climbing with him I recommend wearing sturdy, polarized sunglasses, long sleeves, and a thick beard....

When he gets on the rock no one pushes himself harder than Austin. He is a grunting, lunging, screaming psycopath known to climb through bloody flappers and detached retinas-- even liver failure --without once backing down. When he leaves, Austin will take with him the huge, flaming barbed-wire-wrapped ventricle of the heart of Team Tuesday.

Here are some highlight's from last weeks excursion to the Wilderness of Rocks. As Joe indicated Team Tuesday crushed everything sight, and there's still plenty left to do out there for those willing to make the hike.

Now, pass me the Olde English...

What a day

Tuesday was one of those days. One of those days you never forget. A day you use as a yardstick for all others. Campfire myths and legends form out these days. Grandchildren endlessly reminded about. A day when the sun seems to shine just for you, and the natural laws and barriers of the universe don't seem to apply. Battles fought and won, unicorns ridden, dragons slayed, oceans crossed, walls climbed. Baby hummingbirds take flight and leave their nest (this really did happen with baby hummers that hatched just out my kitchen window. Coincidence??? I think not.).

Tuesday was one of those days. A crew of 6 of us trekked 45 minutes with crash pads on our backs to the Wilderness of Rocks, an aptly named trail and bouldering area near the top of Mt. Lemmon. With cool temps, a nice breeze, and a thick blanket of crash pads, we climbed HARD and we climbed a LOT. Every one of us challenged ourselves, pushed ourselves to go a little higher and a little harder, knowing we had the communal energy of 4 spotters and the safety of 5 pads. Many big falls were taken, and more importantly, many amazing lines were sent. 

We arrived back to our cars just as the last bit of sun light disappeared behind the mountaintop. Each of tired and sore from head to toe, and feeling like we'd been steam rolled by a massive boulder. Dirty and sweaty, we piled into the cars for the drive down the mountain. As we made the windy drive down the mountain, and the lights of Tucson grew closer and brighter, we could still feel the buzz from the day. We talked about our coolest sends, and, of course, the ones that barely got away and we need to return to. This day was epic and huge, expending all our energy and gaining that sense of accomplishment you get from trying your absolute hardest.

There are no pictures or video or full trip report with this post, although they will be coming. We haven't had time and our fingers are still too thrashed to sort through pics and edit video - but with two cameras, we got lots of good stuff, so check back soon. I can still feel the excitement from yesterday, and felt I needed to post something about what went down. It was undoubtedly one of the best days climbing I've had in Tucson, and an affirmation of all the things I love about climbing - good friends, fresh air, exploring the unknown, and digging deep to muster that last bit of strength and will to finish a climb. It was a good day.

Adventures in Munchkinland

This Thursday Tyler and I decided to get outside and climb again, with the scorching summer sun chasing us further and further up the mountain. We landed at Rose Canyon Lake, trailhead to Munchkinland, the name given to the series of crags in the area. We had climbed the Thursday before with Austin at the Wall of Marching Munchkins, and decided to revisit this excellent wall. 

The rock at the Munchkin Wall looks and feels different from any other crag on the mountain, and definitely climbs differently. The wall is dead vertical, and the black and gray rock looks like it was once an ashtray for a group of chain smoking dinosaurs (think The Far Side). The wall is featured with thin, discontinuous cracks and seams that are constantly testing your balance and route finding skills. Even though the crux of the climbs can usually be found in the first 20 feet, onsighting these routes is a tough challenge, as the good holds and sequences don't reveal themselves until it's too late. This is a place that may not make you a stronger climber, but it will certainly make you a better and smarter climber.

Tyler started us off leading a nice 5.6 that he had done a few weeks earlier. He is just starting to lead again after a long hiatus from climbing, and is getting better every week. After this I led and Tyler followed a real nice 5.9 called There's No Place Like Home. This one is unique in that it has a high crux, as you have to pull over a small roof with pretty good holds. 

Feeling a little warmed up, and leery of the encroaching sun, I decided to try The Wicked Witch, a nice looking 5.12-. It was obvious from looking at it that the crux was low, but looked a little sustained through the fourth or fifth bolt. I felt like I had a pretty good chance of sending within a few tries (maybe even an onsight?), so was eager to give it a go. My optimism was quickly revealed to be hubris, as I was thoroughly spanked by this route. I must have tried 15 times, and never got to the second bolt cleanly. The crux move is off of a funky left hand pod/finger stack/gaston with a thumb catch on a quartz crystal, and bumping your right hand up some small features. There is a good incut a few inches above the funky left hand that you either have to bump your left into or cross right into. The feet are small and off-balance, with the first bolt just to the left of your left foot, making the multiple falls from here awkward. I never like these kind of falls - and they effect my climbing - because usually one of three things happen - 1) Rope catches you between the legs - OUCH 2) Kick your belayer in the head 3) Hit the ground. There were many falls resulting in #2, and just one ending in #3. I actually think a better strategy for this route is to bring a crash pad, skip the first bolt, and land on the pad if you fall. This is probably how I will go about this next time, helping me focus on the moves and not the fall, as I hopefully complete that move, and the climb, cleanly. 

Next we moved down about 20 feet to another quality climb, this one a 5.10+ called Poppies Will Make Them Sleep. Long moves off the ground lead you to good holds and the first bolt. After this it is technical, thoughtful climbing up a series of thin seams and sidepulls. I wouldn't say this climb has a definite crux, but hanging on as you try to decipher a sequence can be very taxing. This another great route to try on the wall.

After finishing Poppies, we moved down to the next wall, the Wall of the Dancing Dwarves. Tyler had never done a multipitch climb, and I can always use the practice, so we decided to hop on Scarecrow, an enticing two pitch sport route at the end of the wall. The pitches were 5.8 and 5.10, so it sounded like a good way to end the day. I started up the first pitch, a nice slab with fun, slightly committing moves. I reached the belay station, set up an anchor, and as I'm trying to get cozy with the three-inch ledge I have to stand on, I look over and see a 5'x5' ledge four feet to my right. Unsure of why I am stuck on this tiny ledge, I set up a belay and Tyler begins to climb.

Tyler reaches the belay station, and us two big lanky dudes cuddle up on our tiny belay ledge, with a ledge big enough for us to be dancing on within spitting distance. After explaining to Tyler what I did, and what he needs to be doing next, I head up for the 5.10 second pitch, a beautiful vertical headwall. You start by climbing about 10 feet, mantel onto a big ledge, then another 10 feet, and another big ledge. Then you look up and see a gorgeous orange streaked wall. The climbing on this wall is juggy, gymnastic, and so much fun - the kind of pitch you wish kept going and going. Instead the pitch ends near the top of the wall, with a belay station about 150 feet above the ground. This is a great vantage for the valley and stream below, and Tucson far in the distance. Tyler made quick work following the pitch, and we descended back to the ground to finish another glorious day on Mt. Lemmon. 

Your climbing has no honor

Your climbing has no honor. When I defeated Mil Mascaras for the Pan-American Heavyweight Lucha Libre Title at the Estadio Santa Maria de Los Flores in Caracas in 1974 I felt a stirring in my soul. When I flew into the air and finished him with my attaque espectaculo I did not ask him to 'spot' me. In my lengua we do not even have a word for 'spot'. Or 'rope'. Or 'take'.
When I placed my knee with precision upon the tercera vertebrae and tilted his head back to rip the mask from his weakling's putty-face, oh que chingon!, I thought. Here I will expose to the world that Mil Mascaras es nada mas que un beast with the face of a slope-headed simpleton and the heart of a jackal! Mil Mascaras sold what little honor that God had blessed him with many years before we met alla in Caracas, but it was only there that I brought honor back to la lucha by taking his mask and allowing the light of Truth to blaze upon his forehead the mark of shame that he would wear until the end of his slovenly pig-faced life. Que cochino.
As Mil Mascaras brought shame upon himself and the great lucha by stepping into the ring with as much courage and dignity as a schnauzer dragging his worm-ridden anus across a gravel parking-lot, you degrade la piedra every time you place your unworthy hands upon it. Manos like that are fit only for peeling the rotten husks off of month-old tamales or finger-painting. You would have more chance of catching a chupacabra with a piece of bacon and a string than you would of climbing with honor. Que verguenza!
But there is a man who climbs with honor. He has pantalones rojos and I watched one day in La Milagrosa Canyon as I was searching for baby eagles to take and raise as my special companions-- I watched ese caballero ascend el camino "Community Service" sin cuerda, ghuey! To a caballero like that, I would make a gift of this very vial of the lagrimas de mi madre that she gave me on the very day that she was eaten by a white leon in the mountains of Oaxaca. But I did not learn his name. Hasta I see him again, I at least will know that somewhere in the mountains there is a man with honor.

Hasta la victoria siempre,
Mas Que Humano

A Great Decision

Some choices are very easy to make. I guess being easy to make means that they're not really choices at all, but logical courses of action. And so it happened, around 9:30 on a Wednesday night, me sitting, palms damp, biting my lip in between sends of pure and endless blocks, that I became very anxious and terribly upset. The problem (and normally this phrase would constitute heresy) was that I was drinking a beer, sitting in a nice, padded chair, and that the blocks being climbed were in Turkey, and finally that I was not climbing them. I was sitting as I said, in the Loft, watching the Tucson presentation of the Stone Alliance Film Tour, along with a healthy sample of the Tucson climbing community. With adrenaline and frustration mounting, the last film ended, leaving many of us with the kind of determination and gumption that simply can not be wasted. The logical course of action in this situation, in case you were wondering: Night Bouldering.

After first dispersing to gather gear (headlamps, beer, full-fledged film lighting kits, etc.) around 10 of us set out westward from the marmalade glow of the town, and headed over the Tucson Mountains, utterly determined to squeeze a few minutes of glory out of the night. Instead, we were flooded with the kind of glory normally reserved for fearless warriors...





Sorry about the ass shot Stefanie, but the spandex had to be shown.












After about four hours or so of climbing, our clocks struck 3:30 am, and our stomachs confirmed what our bodies had been screaming and our minds had been ignoring; we were hungry. And thus a second great and easy decision was made to go to the Taco Shop and eat burritos. The sky had turned blue above the crest of Mt. Lemmon by the time any of us were remotely close to our beds.

THE STEEP

Tuesday had gotten off to a shaky start. Dustin and Clayton decided they weren't going to be able to climb today. They claimed they had "finals" and "job applications". I think they need a lesson in what it means to be a team.

With the temperatures supposed to be nearing 100 degrees in Tucson, Tyler, Austin and I decided to head to The Steep. A relatively new crag at about 8000 ft, this is one of the better summer sport climbing areas on the mountain. The Steep is a huge thumb of rock sitting just south of the Aspen Loop Trail, a beautiful and popular hiking trail in the summer months. You approach past a nice little stream and through a jungle of young aspen trees that have sprouted up since the devastating forest fire that hit the mountain in 2003. The climbing is all mostly slightly overhanging or very overhanging (as the name of the crag suggests) on positive quartzy holds that rip your fingers to shreds. Climb on.

Austin started us off by leading Bunkweed, a fun and varied 10a, and one of only a couple of 10's on the formation - and there are no climbs easier than 5.10, as we would later learn the hard way. Bunkweed starts on an overhanging layback system, then moves through an easy section of jugs, into a cool alcove where you can rest a bit. As you leave the alcove you pull over an overhanging bulge and enter a shallow water groove for about 20 feet, where delicate and balancey moves get you to the anchors. Austin took one good fall trying to get established in the water groove, but otherwise did a great job leading this climb. He just started climbing last fall, and has only started leading in the last month or so, but is learning real fast. And while his climbing is improving steadily, his communication skills need a LOT of work. His falls are usually preceded by him yelling something that sounds like the Tasmanian Devil yelling something in German. "WATCFAAAAATARRRRRRARRRARR". Fortunately the meaning is usually deciphered and he gets a good catch. 

Resting in the alcove:

Tyler followed up next, making easy work of it on toprope. Tyler is also improving quickly, and has made a handful of impressive leads in the last few weeks. I climbed last, and really enjoyed this climb. It is tough for the grade of 10a, but an absolute blast to climb. 

Next up was Two Birds Too Stoned, the other 5.10 at The Steep. This climb starts about 5 degrees less than vertical, for about 30 feet, followed by about 10 feet of vertical climbing before the wall tips back to about 10 degrees overhanging for about 15-20 feet. Following this serious pumpfest, you have the traditional Mt. Lemmon slab/mantel to the summit before clipping the chains. A fantastic route, and again, Austin led it out for us. He took a couple of good falls moving through the overhanging crux, but finally figured out his sequence and nailed it. Tyler crushed it on toprope, and I led it and cleaned it. 

Austin entering the overhang:

From out reading of the routes descriptions, it sounded like if we went downhill and just around the corner, the southeast face of the formation would have a number of routes ranging from 5.7-5.10, but didn't really give much more info. As I finished cleaning and rapping the last route, Tyler and Austin went around the corner to find another moderate climb to work on, while I was starting get my sights set on Cres-sent, a roofy 12c that I had tried and failed on last fall. Figuring the hardest route in the area was a 5.10, Austin picked a nice looking climb and started up. The start was a little tricky for him, but he got through it pretty quickly. About half way up was a cruxy overhanging sequence involving pulling on glossy quartz crystals while trying in vain to get your feet on something. Austin was struggling to get the quickdraw into the bolt, and took a bunch of good falls trying to get it in. After getting the bolt clipped, he fought hard to finish the sequence out, but it still took him a while and many "WAWATCFAAAAATARRRRRRARRRARR"'s. He'd been on the route probably half an hour at this point, and I started to become curious. I've seen him get up numerous 10's pretty quickly, and starting to doubt that this climb was in the 5.7-5.10 range. I ran up the hill to get his iPhone, which had the route info on it, and began to look a little closer. 

Austin going for it:

Notice the quickdraw in his hand:

As is so often the case at areas you aren't too familiar with, we underestimated the route a little bit. After getting oriented to the backside wall, we realized Austin was struggling up an 11c called Fat Bastard. Fighting hard, he took a few more good falls trying to pull through the final bulge, and finally topped out. About ten 8-12 foot whippers and an hour or so later, he clipped the chains with a loud victory scream. This was a mighty effort, and he took the evidence home with his legs scratched, bruised and bloody. He also fell right asleep in the car on the drive home.

The steepness

Tyler gave the route a go, made a good effort, but knowing we needed to start hiking out before too long, decided to come on down and try another day. A little unsure how hard this beast was going to be, I started up. After 15 feet of tricky slab, I entered an overhanging lieback arete. The holds were good, but keeping your feet on was the tricky part. This laybacking section brought me to the cruxy part where Austin struggled. I found some good hands, pasted my feet on some small edges, and got the bolt clipped. I started to pull past this section when my usual weakness struck again - getting horribly pumped and climbing timidly when I am tired. I yelled "Take" and rested a bit. I am a horrible onsighter. 

After resting I reached up and found a huge rest jug that I should have grabbed earlier. I climbed through the next fun section and up into the final bulge. After clipping the final bolt, you move up and then right into an enormous right hand dish/flake feature. From this hold you reach way up to the lip and find something to hold with your left hand that you can use to commit to pulling the lip. As I was searching for a good left hand, I broke the small right foot I was standing on. My right hand was so huge I didn't fall, but it sure sounded like a good excuse for a take, so I rested. Starting again, I found a bomber left hand at the lip, pulled through and manteled it out. This is a fantastic but burly climb, and I'll be back for the redpoint. 

P.S. - For some reason I had no pictures of Tyler on my camera. Sorry dude, we'll pose you up good next time.

What they found under the wiper blade....

Hey guys-
My name is "P" and I saw you guys in the canyon. I am a semi-pro photographer and frequently take pictures of people at the [Tanque Verde] falls, often slightly risque photography. If you guys would be interested in being photographed either nude or partially nude, let me know.
Have a good one,
"P" :)
Found: 4/28/09

It looks like Team Tuesday has finally hit the big time, folks. Look for Gneissly Chiseled Team Tuesday's calendar of tastefully done rock climbing nudes. It will be on sale in September anywhere fine art is sold. Buy a copy-- this is how I plan on paying for graduate school.

-C-