Showing posts with label rock climbing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rock climbing. Show all posts
Monday, May 23, 2011
Arizona Bouldering Remix
After watching this video, on ClimbingNarc.com last week I got inspired to get out for one more day of bouldering and filming and put together the Arizona Bouldering Remix.
I believe it is healthy for a person to have a song playing in their head that makes them feel like a badass at least 70 or 80 percent of the time. Any less than that and it's time to change the soundtrack, brother.
I hope this video puts a badass tune in your head.
Labels:
bouldering,
Marshall Gulch,
mt. lemmon,
rock climbing,
Tucson bouldering
Sunday, May 8, 2011
AZ Limestone
A quick purge of some photos taken a few weeks back at The Dry, a scruffy band of limestone southeast of town.



Team Brazil vs. Team Canada on Way To Dry, steep 5.11
Spinal Twist, mega-classic 5.12
Some lanky dude making Rocket Man look real ugly.
Labels:
arizona,
climbing,
dry canyon,
rock climbing,
The Dry,
tuscon
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Back To Basics
Although I've been enjoying sport climbing more and more, at heart I am still a boulderer. With some cool new areas to explore, I've been getting out on the blocs a little more lately. Here are some photos and a short video of some new stuff, with another video in the works. Sadly, none of it is well shot - mostly crappy attempts on a tripod, but I'm pretty psyched on the stuff I've been climbing, so I'm going to share anyways....
LIZARD BOULDERS
Sucka MCs
Futile Devices
Sweet Arete
The General
GANDALF'S GORGE
Labels:
arizona,
bouldering,
Mt Lemmon,
rock climbing,
Team Tuesday,
Tucson
Monday, July 26, 2010
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.)
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.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
The Elusive Catalina Butterfly
Another blistering hot Tucson Tuesday with only one route for escape - drive fast and high up Catalina Highway. Todays destination was the Butterfly Wall on Mount Bigelow, with a cool elevation of over 8000 feet and the ability to chase shade. Routes range from 9+ to 12+ on stellar rock that is pretty unusual by Lemmon standards.
Standard first disclaimer for people going to the Butterfly Wall - THE HIKE IS A MISERABLE, ULTRA-STEEP, THIGH BURNING, HEART EXPLODING SLOG.
Standard second disclaimer for people going to the Butterfly Wall - MAKE THE HIKE, YOU WON'T REGRET IT - THE CLIMBING IS THAT GOOD.
I first heard of the Butterfly Wall last summer from our local guidebook author/prolific FAist, who plainly stated that it might be the best wall on the mountain. High praise, indeed, so I was excited to finally get to check the place out this month.
Towers on top of Mt. Bigelow:
From the top of Mt. Bigelow, you descend the ridgeline following ever steepening switchbacks, trying to use the expansive views as a good distraction from the pain your thighs feel as you hike. While looking out at the summit of Mt. Lemmon to the east and distant ranges to the north, you pass through stands of pines that were ravaged by the 2002 forest fire.
Life is resilient, however, and wildflowers and wildlife are abundant.
Bear scat:
Besides the physical toll the approach takes on your body, there is another side effect of this hike. The trail is composed of very loose and fine grained soil which is easily kicked up into cloud of dark dust. Let's go ahead and call the end result the Butterfly Tanline:
After about 30 minutes of downhilling, you are rewarded with this sight:
The left arete is Firefly, 12c, and to the left is Iron Butterfly, 12a. You cannot tell from this picture how steep they are (especially the arete!), but they are certainly as tall as they seem. Even with a 70 m rope, it requires some trickery to reach the ground when lowering from these climbs. Both are about as good as sport climbing gets. The pinnacle poking over the trees in the bottom left of the picture is also home to some amazing and unique climbing.
The pocketed face of Trundle Pinnacle:
The leftmost line of pockets is 5.10 (and a solid contender for best 5.10 on Mt. Lemmon), a little left-of-center is 11-, in the middle is a 10+ trad route, and the pocketed face on the right is 11+. All are excellent climbs, especially considering they are the only routes with true pockets in the Catalina Mountains.
Looking up at Firefly:
This classic endurance climb starts off with some fun, tricky slab climbing up to a good rest. From there you have about 90 feet of hard climbing to clip the anchors, getting progressively harder and steeper all the way to the final bulge. This climb requires the full package of skills: power, technique, endurance, a cool head, and lots of will power to keep hanging on. If you are lacking in any of these on your attempts, you will be thwarted (this day I was lacking in most of those areas).
A peregrine falcon, who wasn't too excited about our presence:
After three 5.11's and on go on Firefly, I was beat and ready to go. I won't go on and on whining about the hike out the Butterfly. Sure, it's tough, but by then you are a solid believer in the second disclaimer - Hell yeah, the climbing is worth it!
P.S. - Big thanks to Chris P. and Brent S. for rediscovering this area and all their effort in establishing both the trail and the great climbs.
P.P.S. - Clayton - I have about 5 of your draws, and they've been used at some cool places the last week.
P.P.S. - It's Orifice season! Screw you falcons, let's go climb!
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