New Shoes, Faves and Raves

I took my new shoes out for 
a spin yesterday at Middle Earth-- a nice crag about fifteen miles up the Mt. Lemmon highway nestled in amongst the pine trees.  Its just one of a long list of crags with hobbit-inspired names found on Mount Lemmon i.e.  Middle Earth, Weathertop,Rivendale, Aduriel Tower and so on  ad nauseam... But a pretty sweet place to climb nonetheless.  Most of the routes start out with a long, slightly-less-than-vertical slab at the bottom of the climb transitioning into steeper, more featured rock after the first twenty feet or so.  

  Something about those slabs gets inside my head whenever I climb at Middle Earth.  Something about those slabs makes me very uncomfortable.  They make me breathe heavy and my palms sweat.  Slab climbing is, as Fitz Cahall puts it in a recent Climbing article featuring nearby Cochise Stronghold, "a cold science of patient movement, emotional detachment, and friction."  That's a rather tall order for somebody impetuous, prone to hysterics, and highly viscous like myself.   I prefer the steep, the dynamic, the un-subtle climbs.   On those climbs I feel in control even if I'm flailing away, falling, and hanging on the rope for hours.  On slabs I find myself filled with a  creeping un-ease stemming from the two things that I know for certain about slab climbing: 1) friction is a fickle bitch and 2) because of the low angle of most of the slabs at Middle Earth any slip will more than likely result in a cheese-grater-style, chest-to-granite high-friction body-slide down the cliff culminating in the melting off of both of my nipples.

 Nonetheless, I give Middle Earth high marks as a crag-- the pines keep things mostly shady for most of the day, and the routes are high quality even if they frighten my nipples.  My new shoes, a swank new pair of La Sportiva Mantis', performed well even though I was worried they might pick up on some lingering vibrations of resentment that I was feeling about having to drop another eighty dollars just three months after I bought my last new pair of climbing shoes.  I didn't want them to feel like the red-headed step-children of my climbing kit, so I left the old, yellow Scarpas at home (with blown-out toes) and did everything I could to make the new guys feel comfortable and accepted.

  I'm not the only climber, by any means, to anthropomorphize his gear.  A trad-climber I used to know would pull his entire rack of cams, nuts, and slings into bed with him on cold nights to spoon with him so that the cold wouldn't exacerbate microscopic cracks in the 'biners and so the cams wouldn't "feel too lonely out there."  Before descending I make it a point to kiss the anchors or every route that I climb. Reinforcing your gear's sense of self-worth is an excellent investment of  time and energy for the serious climber as an unappreciated carabiner, or sling, or climbing boot is apt to turn mutinous just when you need them the most.

  Still, climbing shoes are expensive and I seem to blow through them faster than anyone I know.  Whatever deity drew up my blueprints must have had a ballerina in mind.  Judging from the ragged holes right on the very tips of the toes of ever pair of climbing shoes I've ever owned, no part of my foot ever makes contact with the rock except for the bulbous little pads of my first two toes.  Nary a scratch in the rubber will you find of the heel, side, or arch of my old climbing shoes.  I must have reinforced aircraft aluminum for Achilles heels and I must prance around rather constantly on the dainty little tips of my toes...

 

  All the climbers that I told about my shoe woes took a light view of my predicament.  The common wisdom seems to be that the fact the my 100$  shoes wear out in less than a quarter of a year is sign that I've been "climbing enough."  A phrase that, when translated into realspeak, seems to mean "once to twice a week for almost three months."  I should take up a collection.

  But most cynicism aside this latest shoe purchase coupled with Joe's last few nostalgic posts got me thinking about my year climbing in the Old Pueblo.  After three years of living in China and averaging only about six climbing days per year the sheer enormity of the amount of climbing in Tucson has flabbergasted me.  I estimate, quite roughly, that I have climbed between ninety-five and one-hundred days in the past year-- averaging around two days per week.  Not bad, I'd say, by anything but sponsored-climber stats, and I expect the sponsorships to come flooding in any minute-- just as soon as this blog hits the big time.

  The conditions were ripe here in the Presidio for me to go on a climbing bender after three-years of good behavior in Asia.  Most of it I owe to Dustin and Joe for being the perfect enablers.  They are as hopelessly and irreversibly addicted to climbing the hell out of everything in sight as I am and, to make things worse, they share with me a genial disregard for tending to life's other "priorities" when one could go climbing instead.  Obsession, passion, madness, and opportunity have all conspired here to make Tucson, in my humble opinion, one of the most underrated climbing towns in all of North America.  In one year of climbing--roughly one hundred days --we three have each climbed at least two hundred (a very conservative estimate, I think) distinct routes and or boulder problems in the area and there are at least... how many? Five Hundred? One thousand? Fifteen Hundred!?!? More routes and problems that we haven't even heard about! 

 Ay! Dios Mio!

 Here are my faves, sticking only to routes that I have red- 0r mostly-red-pointed, not including boulder problems which is another post in and of itself--

5.8-- Valentine's Arete-- One of the finest 5.8's I've climbed anywhere and the defining feature of La Milagrosa Canyon's main wall. Epic, awesome, and a must-do.

5.9-- The Dragon's Back-- Super-awesome green-lichen climbing at Jailhouse Rock.  Mas Que Humano also loves this route.

5.10-- Community Service-- The Milagrosa Main Wall staple warm-up.  Somebody who climbs in red pants solos this route with aplomb.

            Two Birds Too Stoned-- A sunny climb at the Steep way up at the top of Mount Lemmon.  First introduced to me by Dr. Reamer last summer.  Everything a bomb-ass 5.10 should be including, but not limited to: fun, steep, sketchy, awesome, sunny, long, exposed, and magnificent.

             Batteries Not Included-- Super-sweet but scary moves down low over ankle-busting boulders lead up to an awesome jug-haul past a small roof.  This routes has good exposure.

5.11-- Arizona Flyways-- My nemesis-- still going for the redpoint--starts on a dead tree and climbs the south face of Anduriel Tower.  Exceptionally pumpy and photogenic.  The sheer, aching beauty of this route in the dying sun will stomp mudholes in even the most callous of hearts.

           Crime and Punishment-- Starts with a dyno and never lets up.  I always blow this one at bolt number five-- great fall.  

           Hippo Space Invaders-- The climb that spawned the photo that spawned the blog.  Another one (along with the two previous routes) that I have climbed with one fall.  This climb goes up an amazing arete. Belayers should beware-- if your climber falls between bolts one and two and if you're standing at the base of the tower prepare to get kicked in the chest.

           Stealin'-- Another La Milagrosa crimp-fest miracle.  This climb really brings out the Space Tiger in me.

  This list is far from complete-- its really more of a survey of the sweetest climbs that I've climbed in the past year and is constantly  up for reevaluation.  Soon, I may try to add a list of boulder problems and/or projects for the coming year, but the hardest part of either of those lists will be deciding where to start.

 More new video soon....

   -C-

A Year In The Old Pueblo Pt. 2

Looking at all those photos also got me thinking about all the stellar climbing opportunites here in Tucson, and many of my favorite climbs of the past year. So I thought I would list some of my favorites at various grades, both for Tucsonians looking for some stuff to check out, and maybe help get our out-of-town friends psyched to get out here and climb with us. It'd be really cool if others want to list their fave's as well, either as a post (C and dp) or maybe in the comments if you've got some memorable Tucson climbs you'd like to mention.

Here's my list of must-do's (sticking to climbs that I have actually redpointed):

5.8

In Lightning, The Druid

Valentine's Day Arete, Milagrosa Canyon

Puppy Chow, Lost Hawk

5.9

The Golden Egg, Goosehead

Chihuahua Power, Lost Hawk

Clip, Clip Here, Munckinland

R-4, Rupley Towers

5.10

Talk of the Nation, Troll Wall

Bunkweed, The Steep

Two Birds Too Stoned, The Steep

Community Service, Milagrosa

5.11

Arizona Flyways, Anduriel Tower

The Breeze, Middle Earth

Steve's Arete, Hunchback Pinnacle

Stealin', Milagrosa

Armed Robbery, Jailhouse

5.12

The Wizard, Milagrosa

Solar Power, Milagrosa

Demolition Derby, The Helmet

I was thinking of listing my projects for the next year, but that list is WAY too long. Needless to say, there is lots to be done, and I maybe I'll update this next year with some new classics to rave about (hopefully I'll be able to add some 13's to the list...).

Anybody else have favorites???

A Year In The Old Pueblo

The world is definitely getting smaller, and time seems to progress faster all the time. Although it is hard to believe, it has been about a year since my family and I arrived in Tucson. I feel pretty fortunate to have landed in a place with SO MUCH rock climbing. I have been climbing once or twice a week since September, and still have not even seen at least half of the crags on Mt. Lemmon. And I haven't even touched any routes at Cochise Stronghold, Dry Canyon or The Homestead, three incredible areas within an hour and a half drive of here.

I have been just as lucky to find an amazing bunch of people to climb with, sharing in the excitement of seeking out new places and adventures, having fun pushing our limits and stumbling through cacti. And as some people leave us, hopefully we'll be able to find a new crop of enthused people to tackle the cliffs, domes and boulders of Southern Arizona with. Just this week I've had a blind date and an internet hookup. For partners. Climbing partners.

Since my last couple of posts have been a little too wordy, I thought I would share some of my favorite climbing pictures from this last year. We didn't really start taking a lot of pictures until the spring, so last fall isn't well represented. Too bad, because I don't have a single picture of one of the founding fathers of Team Tuesday, Christian. Unfortunately, due to an old stuntman injury (seriously!), Christian has been out of climbing all spring, and looks like for at least another year or so. Hopefully his ankle surgery will go marvelous and he will back climbing with us as soon as possible.

A YEAR OF CLIMBING

Clayton pitching off of Hippo Space Invaders

Beadle and Kerry cranking at Milagrosa

One big climbing goal achieved - my first 5.12 onsight, The Wizard

Team Saucisson comes to the desert

A long time bouldering project sent - Jungle Book in So. Illinois

Steep stuff at Milagrosa

Tucson bouldering

Meeting Mas Que Humano

Enjoying perfect spring conditions

Squeezing One Last Lemmon

There's always room for dessert. And it's hard not to make time to squeeze in one more climbing day, so Thursday Tyler and I headed back up the mountain for more gneiss goodness. It was already HOT when we met up and started driving towards Catalina Highway, so we figured we better get some serious altitude and shade. We decided to check out The Druid, a large rock formation adjacent to a Boy Scout camp at about 7500 feet. After a surprisingly easy approach, we were staring up at long, sparsely bolted slabs, and a few cool roofs and bulges. The Druid also has a few old school 'R' rated trad routes, which looked desperate and very scary. Needless to say we avoided those.

We roped up and started climbing on the right side of the wall, where there were a few good looking routes right next to each other, Admiral Throckmorton (5.8) and Corporal Punishment (5.9). They climbed the exact same way - 5.7ish slab to VERY runout easy slab to a crux bulge, then mantle out and finish. They were good warm-ups, but a little bit scary, as there was definite ground fall potential through the easier sections - Corporal Punishment had only 4 bolts for a 60 foot route, although the crux bulge was well protected.

The next route left was another 5.8 slab, In Lightning, starting close to the others but then moving left away from the bulge. This route was long, sustained and incredible. Probably the best 5.8 I've done in Tucson (except for maybe Valentine's Day Arete at Milagrosa, but that's probably really a 5.9). 120 feet of great climbing leads to the anchor, and from there you have a few different options for a second pitch. I belayed Tyler up using my Reverso, and we opted to try the short but cool looking 10+ roof pitch. Basically a bolted boulder problem, nice jugs, deep incut seams and even an amazing sloper got you over the bulge and at the chains. This was so a short pitch we felt like it wasn't enough, so I lowered down, Tyler nailed it, then we opted for the right exit. This was an easier variation with a few good sections, but a better reading of the guidebook would have been a good idea. 30 feet above the last bolt I realized that you are supposed to walk off the top of this route, and not wanting to do that, I just downclimbed the route back to the anchors with Tyler.

We made the rappel back down to terra firma only to make an astounding realization - it's freakin COLD! We were at a decent elevation, but we were also climbing a south-facing cliff, so we were in direct, full-on sun. But an arctic wind was blowing up the canyon, chilling us to the bone. I put my raincoat on to warm up a little, but Tyler had no other layers, sucker. Next up we climbed Grips of Wrath, a 10- face that has generated a little controversy in past. Grips of Wrath is a bolted line that goes straight up an old, zig-zagging R rated trad climb. Surprisingly it hasn't been chopped, but lucky for us, as it was another fun, technical climb.

We followed this with Jack The Slipper, a short 5.9 slab that moves up into anchors under a roof, from which you can lower off or continue through the 5.11 roof. The climbing was pretty good, with a classic committing mantle to reach the anchors. I decided to go ahead and keep climbing through the roof, only to be completely shut down as soon as I moved past the chains. Deciphering the sequence was tricky, but the 12 foot traverse under the roof was very cool climbing, although protected by a sketchy, rusted old bolt sticking an inch out of the rock. Pulling the roof was awkward and thrutchy, which was unfortunate after such an elegant sequence getting to it. After the roof, 30 more feet of vertical jug hauling led to the anchors. I lowered off, cleaning the draws after the the first anchor, as Tyler only wanted to climb the first section. He crushed it on TR, despite being a popsicle at this point.

Cold and wind-burned, we decided to head out and finish the day off at the one and only Hitchcock Pinnacle. Tyler hadn't climb the pinnacle before, so it was the perfect way to send him off to Colorado. The climbing on the pinnacle is OK at best, but the experience is unbeatable - a 40 foot finger of rock high above Windy Point, with breathtaking views of the mountains in every direction and Tucson far below. The top of the pinnacle is flat and about 12'x12', so perfect for giving each other high-fives on a great day, standing on top and taking it all in, and hamming it up for tourists down below.

Another One Bites The Dust

Team Tuesday is saying goodbye to another member this week, as Tyler heads to Ft. Collins, CO to begin grad school. He has been a great climbing partner the last six months - mostly because he doesn't have a job, and can climb with me whenever I am free. Tyler is a Tucson native, a geologist, a beard grower, a heartbreaker and can out hike any one. He is also taller than me, and even rarer than someone taller than me is someone taller than AND more flexible than I am. Finally I got to use the "that move is just too reachy for me" excuse. I was lucky enough to run into Tyler bouldering at Gates Pass about 6 months ago, and it has been a blast climbing and hanging out with him since then.

To help send him off right, Tuesday we headed to the Troll Wall, one of the crags that make up the Munchkinland area. Troll Wall is one of the more popular spots for trad climbing these days, and with our trad-minded friend Mike coming along today (as well as his friend Neal, and two awesome dogs), we packed the rack and headed out. We spotted two good looking 5.8's right next to each other -The Slot and Take The Robots Apart- and decided to start with those. Mike started up Robots, and fifteen feet left I started up The Slot.

Every now and then I try to get myself psyched on trad climbing, and resolve to start getting better at jamming, placing gear, and pushing myself to climb harder trad. I was hoping the first couple of 5.8's would go well and I would work up the courage to try a beautiful 10a crack down the wall. 30 feet up on The Slot, wedging my head into the short section of off-width ('the slot'), trying to fiddle a cam into this weird flare in the back of the slot, my resolve was broken. "Ah, yes. This is why I stick to sport climbing and bouldering...." I thought as I placed yet another piece of psychological pro, and committed to yet another awkward layback/mantle move. I made it to the top, then lowered, thankful that Mike had led the other 5.8 and maybe I would just toprope it....

Or not. Mike bailed 20 feet up, unable to commit to the section of laybacking off a slopey arete with polished smears for feet. 5.8, eh??? I led the rest of that climb out, lowered, and hucked my rack into the creek, determined to never place another piece of gear again. The rest of the crew toproped both climbs, which both have fun, interesting climbing. But the gear -as is the case with all the gear climbs I've done on Mt. Lemmon- was very unassuring. Maybe I just need more practice...I guess I'll go fish my gear out of the creek.

Mike in 'the slot':

Tyler on Take The Robots Apart:

Mike and Tyler tearing up the Troll Wall:

(Sorry about the poor quality photos. I took them while belaying...)

Fortunately, there was a 10+ sport route just to the right that had come highly recommended, called Talk Of The Nation. It started with 40 feet of delicate, thin slab climbing leading into 40 feet of blocky, juggy overhangs. This was a fantastic route, and worth the hike down to Troll Wall all by itself. Tyler toproped the route, then him and I headed up to Munchkin Wall to finish the day while Mike and Neal cleaned Talk Of The Nation (but they ended up spending most of their time looking for the dogs, who had ended up following us...oops).

Tyler finished the day by leading a 5.8 arete which we had first done a couple months ago. It was definitely the hardest lead I've seen Tyler do, and it was great to see him climb it so smoothly and easily, even as he was getting rained on. He is getting a good lead head, and he'll be cranking all kinds of hard, cool stuff when he gets out to Colorado. You will be missed, Tyler.

Making a Splash

Rocks and water-- two of my favorite things. Throw in a crew that pulls down hard, a clutch of beers, a boat and a sunshade and even a lotus-eater would be hard pressed to imagine a finer day. That being said, don't go deep water soloing at Saguaro Lake!!! If you do, it is likely that you will die.
Jack White may have fought piranhas, but he never pulled down eighty pound blocks of rotten volcanic tuff on his head-- not while dangling his tenders off a cliff-side thirty or forty feet above a flooded canyon floor in the middle of the desert. That's why Jack White ain't a member of Team Tuesday. Victories over gravity count around here, and big, bold, bad-assedness, too. Fish are for eating because it is of dubious gentlemanly merit to fight something with no elbows.
Team Tuesday may be diminished by one (and soon by two), but we did not die at Saguaro Lake. It probably isn't entirely accurate to say we triumphed, either, but we climbed and we fell and we ripped gigantic pieces of the canyon off in our hands.
Joe called it 'deep-water choss-a-neering'. The trick, besides just figuring out how to haul your soggy ass out of the water in the first place, is to proceed delicately up the walls figuring what holds you can trust, what holds you can't, and what holds you're willing to take a chance on, and then to go for it. Falling is inevitable. The only thing you can hope for is that you don't pull off a chunk big enough to knock you out, or, if you get Gripped and don't let go, pull you down to the bottom of the lake.
It isn't easy to get good video from an aluminum rent-a-boat. Especially when the winds and the goons in the kinds of boats that only coke-lords should be driving are making you blow every shot... It isn't easy at all, but we got a little film.... Enjoy -C-