An Ode to the Summit Gods

Weeks like these don't come often.

In fact, I'm having a difficult time trying to think of the last time I felt so battered and defeated. It's probably been years.

Most weeks are dull, with prescribed spikes in excitement which, although satisfying and adrenaline packed, are short-lived and only punctuate the doldrums of regularity. But every once in a long while a week comes around where I am rewarded and overwhelmed with more action than Arnold in the 80's.

Now, before we get to my wallop of a week, which started on Sunday, I have to talk about the show that prefaced it (Warning: no climbing porn here). Gabriel Sullivan and the Taraf de Tucson played Saturday night at Plush. Allow me to set the stage for you: sixteen musicians, a full horn section, cello, bass, two violins, a lap-steel, up to four guitars, one of which played by Brain Lopez of Mostly Bears fame, and the operatic, rapping vocals of local legend Salvador Duran. The genre could be described as funk mixed with Mexican folk, mixed with cowboy rock and tango, and is absolutely impossible not to dance to. They played for almost three hours to an ecstatic crowd of Tucsonians and put on easily one of the best shows I've seen here in the Old Pueblo. Thank you Gabriel Sullivan and Friends, thank you. Now, on with the climbing stuff.

The Orifice, Murray Wall, and something about a King

On Sunday the 18th I set out for The Fortress with fellow Rocks and Ropes employee, Sean Harris. We headed straight to The Orifice and hopped on Hard Day at the Orifice. It was my second day climbing at this uber-exposed crag, and the style of climbing coupled with the airy views of Rappel Rock and Tucson was still difficult to handle. In fact, last time I left The Orifice I decided I never needed to go back, because honestly, the climbing scared me too much, and there are plenty of other 5.12s on the mountain that don't make me pee my pants. But despite the urging of my instinctual brain, I made it to the chains, resting a few times of course. And this time when I left, I felt like I might be able to send Hard Day in a few more attempts. Vamos a ver.

Last season Sean had almost finished Hard Day but had fallen at the red-point crux, a massive cross off an undercling-horn and literally the last move above 5.9. On his second burn he managed to get out of the Orifice (the actual crux) without any trouble at all, sticking a dead point move to a burly gaston. The rest of the climb he seemed to have down pat, now it's only a matter of stamina and time.

Before we left The Orifice I did the coolest thing I have ever done in my entire life. Some of the kids on the Rocks and Ropes climbing team were also climbing at the orifice on Sunday, and instead of crushing the hard 12s and 13s as a few of them regularly do, they were taking it easy and had set up a gigantic king swing from the top of the highest route out there. There's nothing quite like being the weight at the bottom of a 120 foot pendulum that hangs on the side of a 200 foot cliff on the top of a 9000 foot mountain. It's more fun than any roller coaster, and cheaper too. If you'd like to see a video of this check out the POV of Joe's wife Kerry letting go.

On our way back to the car, still feeling the adrenaline from the swing, I decided to go for the onsight of a 12a called Forever In Blue Jeans at Murray Wall. I had been told before that the climb was a gimmie for the grade, and it looked like my type of climbing. It is. I sent it, and certainly would't say it was my hardest onsight; that award goes to Loc-Tite 11d in Queen Creek. But, that being said, Forever is exactly the style of crimpy, balance-oriented climbing that I live for, and is probably 12a.

Wilderness of Rocks

Part One

On monday I went back to the top of Mount Lemmon, this time alone. With just my shoes for gear and my dog Stella for company I hiked out the Marshall Gulch trail into the Wilderness of Rocks. When I made it to the first set of boulders, I climbed some of the easier classics at the AC/DC wall, and then free soloed a few 5-7 bolt 5.8s, and one harder climb nearby, maybe a 5.10. I was having a great day with perfect temps, and after climbing for a few hours I hiked down to the Lemmon Drop pools and swam and drank wine while purifying water with iodine (not recommended in this area, apparently). Then I went down trail a little farther and found a campsite with already gathered wood and a nice fire pit. I set up camp and went to explore some nearby boulders before dark.

(Photo Disclaimer: In the interest of weight I didn't bring a camera with me, only my phone, so bear with me here.)

The Fortress, The Ravens and Rap Rock from my campsite.

Awesome wildflowers throughout the gulch.

Part Two

When I had left my house in the morning the forecast had listed a 30% chance of rain. So at 6:30, as I'm enjoying dusk with my Trader Joe's canned turkey chili and the cheap wine I stole from my roommate, I keep thinking how well the weather is cooperating. I am especially satisfied because I hadn't brought a tent or a tarp with me, only a sleeping bag and pad, and had no way of staying dry. Now, it's monsoon season here in the Arizona desert and I knew exactly how stupid it was, going 4 miles into the wilderness with no shelter, but I did it anyway, just hoping for the best and thinking to myself: it's only one night, I'll survive. So with a small feeling of accomplishment I fell asleep around 9:00.

I woke up, some hours later, still dry but stab in the middle of what sounded like three different storm cells competing in a thunder and lightening competition. Regardless of the winner, I was the loser. Normally I'd have been up and packing, and headed for the rocks in search of a cave. But I was still dry and still a little drunk and therefore still able to fall back asleep amidst the crashes of thunder and bright silent flashes. The next thing I knew, some wet, furry animal was burrowing inside my sleeping bag, my face and hair were drenched, and the ground was shaking. In no time I was up and out of my bag, pushing Stella aside before untying her. Then in less than 20 seconds I had all my stuff packed, lantern out, and I was headed for the boulders I'd scouted just hours before. With a vague recollection of a large suspended roof, I tore uphill able only to see a few feet ahead through dense sheets of water. I kept looking back fearful I might pass the boulder, and on the fourth glance back I saw it, just downhill and to the right. It rained until 4:00 am, and Stella and I, with not a dry item in our possession, nor wood to start a fire, shivered in and out of sleep. Here are some pictures of my shelter taken the day after:

Living in Arizona, it's not often I yearn for the sun to come out; overcast days are uniformly cherished. Needless to say, I wanted nothing more than the sun to warm my bones and dry my clothes. When the rain finally stopped and the first blue of sunlight had shown through the black clouds I set out for the highest point possible to await the sunrise. From this vantage I was able to scout even more boulders, and as I warmed up, I realized there were a lot of potential problems laid out before me. Once the sun was up, I wasted no time. Here are some pictures of the boulders I scouted. I highly doubt I was the first to climb them, but I cant imagine why these weren't included in the old McMillen guide. Stella is in some of these for size comparison, she stands on all fours at about one and a half feet.

This boulder has at least four good lines on it. Two on either side of the arete, both easy. Then a V4 on the left of the face and a V3 on the right that share the same scary top-out, straight through the bulge. A hard (V10?) project adorns the left corner of the overhanging side.

This awesome feature sticks out of an overhang, though the problem it's on would be kind of contrived.

This problem starts underclinging the right boulder, with your feet on the left. You work out to the corner, set a knee bar, and then go for the arete and follow it all the way to the pinnacle. Really fun.

The Spike. Unfortunately I didn't get to climb the 20 foot V0 that starts on this thing, I sprained a tendon on the next problem pictured right before I found it.

Tall, scary slab, starts with tension moves underclinging the arete.

V0 arete, and V4 face climb.

Believe it or not, this boulder is well over 30 feet tall.

Pockets, on Lemmon? Yes, indeed, lots of pockets.

This problem involves a big move from one hueco to another, probably V3.

This is a freestanding spire about 40ft tall. This side is overhung already, and then like a wave the top curves out. It's mostly choss though.

With an intoxicating mix of fatigue and excitement, I left Wilderness of Rocks that afternoon, having found at least 5 problems well worth coming back for with pads, and 20 or so other shorter and easier lines worth doing. Also, I was stoked that I'd be returning in 2 days with my brother Jared, who had previously only climbed Lemmon granite once, at North Fin. Our plans had, at this point, yet to solidify, but I knew we'd be coming back out through the Gulch and into the Wilderness. What I didn't know was that we'd be making that hike in the dark, during the last night of our trip, after spending the better part of two days hiking around in the rain waiting for a small, dry, window in which to climb Steel Crazy.

The Fortress and Steel Crazy

Jared and I have been climbing for about 4 years. Sport climbing that is, and bouldering too, but no trad, yet. Also, before this, we had never attempted a multi-pitch. We had thought about it on multiple occasions, once in Ton Sai, Thailand when we were both relative beginners, but had never committed. This time, we were committed.

Steel Crazy is a 5.9, four pitch, 450-foot climb that goes up the tallest side of the Fortress, the same chunk of rock that houses the Orifice and the king swing mentioned above. It gets 3 stars in the guide, is considered one of the best 5.9s on the mountain and luckily for us, is bolted.

Day One

We got an early start on Friday, hoping to beat the early forecasted rain, and then retreat to Wilderness of Rocks and set-up camp before the afternoon monsoons started. Driving up Catalina Highway I caught glimpses of the summit, still clearly visible and apparently dry, while Jared slept. Before we could get to the parking lot at the trailhead we were stopped by a man in a reflective yellow vest sporting a large radio. He informed us that due to construction, we'd have to hike up from here, adding another 3 miles to our approach, round trip. With a little hesitation we decided to push on.

When we reached the top of the road, and the would-be parking lot, we got the first glimpse of what should have been a spectacular view of the mountain's canyons descending into the city. Instead, we could see about 75 feet in front of our noses.

A fog engulfed the summit, as dense as a swimming pool, and made the morning silence all the more eerie. As we grew closer to the Fortress I tried to point out Rap Rock and the Ravens but they were barely visible at all, and only for brief moments. From the Murray Wall, we looked over towards the Fortress and saw nothing but white. But, still dry, and still determined we started unpacking and racking up gear, and then scouted the descent down to the south face of the Fortress.

The silence was first broken by a horrible tearing sound coming from the sky. Only after this higher pitched shrill did the booming thunder come through and shake our previously unwavering spirits, and the ground. Rain came soon after. When the rain let

off a little, enough for me to hike to higher ground and look out, I was elated. "Blue Sky!" I cheered back to Jared as I smiled at a widening hole in the fog and clouds, thinking the worst was over.

Four hours later and my patch of blue was still hovering above, but the rain was still pouring down and the fog was still thick; the only thing that had changed was the temperature, now getting down to around 60. We decided to find better shelter under the Murray Wall, to have a fire and eat some lunch. Afterwords, unable to stay inactive any longer, we climbed Forever in Blue Jeans up to the wet, vertical section above, and left a bail-biner behind. Jared, who had never attempted to climb a 5.12, surprised himself by working through the steep and balancy bottom section with relative ease. By then it was around 3:00 and our chances of getting on Steel Crazy were dismal.

We decided to return and regroup at my house rather than fight through the rain and camp-out that night in Wilderness. By 8:00 p.m., absolutely exhausted from the lack of sleep the night before, and the rather unnecessary and fruitless hike that day, we were both fast asleep.

Day Two

Saturday we awoke knowing that we had to redeem ourselves, that we had to conquer that mountain and its weather system bodyguards, we had to climb Steel Crazy. Again on the drive up, with Jared asleep, I scoped the Summit. It sat in the dark, under looming, malicious, grey clouds, just taunting us. I woke Jared up and pitched the idea that we admit defeat, that we go down the mountain a ways, where it's slightly less likely to rain, and resort to the single pitch, easy to bail-off-of routes of Middle Earth. He wouldn't hear it, and by the time we reached the parking lot (at least this day the road was open to the top) I had convinced myself that climbing in the rain wouldn't be so bad, it's only 5.9, right?

As bad as Friday went for us, that's how good Saturday was. By 12:30 we we're basking in the sun at the base of our climb, and racking up the 20 draws and 5 or so slings we would use to safely scale it. The clouds and the sun fought back and fourth all day, but the rain never hit us on the climb.

Steel Crazy For Real from Dustin Payne on Vimeo.

A look up The Fortress from just right of Steel Crazy. If you look closely you can see some climbers on Fort Stress, a scary looking 5.8+. Steel Crazy goes just right of the black streak on the high left face.

The First two pitches are the longest, at about 160 and 130 feet respectively, and are the most fun, each with long runouts on easier climbing and decent cruxes. I led the first, and jared the second. The views of Tucson and Rap Rock were even more impressive because yesterday we could only imagine that both those things were actually there. The sunlight, all the more glorious because we hadn't seen much of it at all in the last 24 hours, joined us at the top once again.

Along with a baby rattle snake. No harm done though.

After we gathered all of our stuff, we went back to Murray Wall and I climbed Forever In Blue Jeans again, and got my carabiner back.

On the trail out to my car thunder finally boomed from the northern ridge. But we didn't care, our day was mostly done and we had finally succeeded. Now we just had to hike out to Wilderness of Rocks, set up a tarp, gather wood (hopefully dry), and get water filtered all before dark.