Carol and I headed for the Lone Pine / Bishop area for some bouldering, rock climbing, sightseeing, hiking…
First, though, a little bit about safety. On the last route I climbed (Alabama Hills, The Shark’s Fin, The Shark’s Fin Arete), when I topped out (awesome, btw, you peek over the top and there is the Sierra crest and Mt Whitney) and started to clip into the rappel anchors, I decided to test them first and found that both bolts moved in the rock with finger pressure. Not good.
My first inclination was to clip in anyway because they weren’t that loose and then I thought about two things:
- We planned for Carol to climb the route on top rope
- Why bother to learn what’s safe and what’s not and then ignore it and become the star in an accident report
…so I traversed to the left to another set of anchors (lucky for me as I had no gear with me to create an anchor, file that in lessons learned) at the top of another route and used them to lower and clean my gear. We passed on having Carol climb the route top roped from an anchor far to the left of the route.
Back home, wondering how to get the anchors fixed, I went to rockclimbing.com and posted this. I got various qualities of answers, the two most useful being “I know a guy who knows a guy that I PM’d” and “try ASCA“. Emailing ASCA, I got a quick reply from Greg Barnes, who is now on my “Good Guys Doing Good Deeds” list. Click on over to ASCA and make a donation.
In the meantime, I hope whoever else climbs that route notices the anchor problem before they clip in.
Tuesday 11/11: Gear / clothes / food packed down the road we go; we made it as far as Fossil Falls where we camped for the night out near Red Hill on a playa. Things to recommend this spot: it’s flat and free.
Wednesday 11/12: Drove on up to Bishop, had breakfast at Jack’s (I had a spinach and cheese omlette w/ avo, really good, I also ordered a Pumpkin Muffin instead of toast and got a muffin so big I ate on it for three days) and then headed out to the Buttermilk Boulders. Lots of fun. However, not owning a crash pad really restricts what one is willing to try. A couple guys were working on the Ironman Traverse, always fun to watch and think about how far I have to go to get that strong and skilled. These guys were really nice and showed me a route that starts at the far left of Ironman and goes up a crack (you can see the crack in the picture, the helpful boulder at the far end is off). They set a crash pad under me; I tried it a couple times and once after actually reaching up for the third hold I peeled off and hit the crash pad. I think I probably fell about 2-3 feet, but I had a right foot heel hook going so I went down right on my back – oof. It definitely disabused me of the notion of trying any such moves without a crash pad. It also makes me wonder, while watching NFL football, how any of those guys get up and ever move again after some of those hits. Also, my head hit the ground – ouch even with a helmet on – the bouldering / rock climbing ethic that apparently influences so many people to eschew helmets has to be responsible for a lot of unnecessary head trauma.
We drove on up toward Mount Tom and picked a spot to camp. Out of the truck, I could hear a waterfall or cascade, and upon a little exploration, we found a beautiful little grotto with a fall – quite a piece of luck. Back up out of the grotto, the moon had just risen and with the light cloud cover, mountains, snow and sunset it was all quite dramatic.
Thursday 11/13: Up and off, back to Bishop, we found The Rubber Room where I turned in a pair of worn rock climbing shoes. $59 bucks for 2 new soles, 2 new half rands and shipping. I probably should have just gotten another new pair of shoes instead, but they were my first pair and have sentimental value – sniff. We headed north and checked out the “Pleasant Valley Pit“, aptly named and apparently a climber’s haunt. Stiff breeze from the north, someone told us the Happy Boulders area was sheltered. Indeed it is – you climb up from the washboard road into a canyon chock full of lava boulders with a zillion potential bouldering problems – and no wind. Quite warm, actually – not a spot to visit in summer. We spent a couple hours trying out stuff (still no crash pad), peaking for me with a 25 foot route that I knew I could climb – but had to find the guts. That whole “one mistake and you’re hospitalized or mortuary-ized” thing is always on my mind. Tired, sore, hands trashed, back at the truck for beer and food, now what? We headed for Lone Pine and the Alabama Hills to do some climbing with a nice, safe rope.
Have I mentioned that the sun sets around 4:30? Makes for long nights. We camped next to the Shark’s Fin, which I planned to climb the next morning.
Friday 11/14: After a really windy night, woke up a the crack of dawn to a really windy morning. Looked out, grabbed the camera, and got some nice shots of sunrise, the moon setting over the Sierra, the Shark’s Fin. If you look close at some of the pictures you can see the bushes moving while the shutter is open. We decided to go into town and have breakfast and see if the wind subsided. Breakfast and a paper at the Totem Cafe.
Outside again, it seemed quiter, but back in the Alabama Hills, still kind of windy so we postponed the Shark’s Fin and went to the Hoodgie Wall area. It was more sheltered, but another climbing team was on the Hoodgie Wall itself, so after inspection, we decided to try Mon Cherie on the Truffle Tower. Sure, I’d never lead 5.8 before, let alone 5.9, but I figured I could always bail off. Must have been feeling good that day. “Climb On”, I climbed fairly steadily until I got to the part that looked vertical and thin from the ground and sure enough, it was vertical and thin. After a few minutes searching for something (hands, feet) more confidence-inspiring, I decided to bail. Going down, I left two quickdraws (for some kind of redundancy as I was rappelling on a single bolt) and cleaned the rest.
Just to the right of Mon Cherie is Escargot, 5.8, so I gave that a shot. Fun climbing, I topped out (I had to, can’t be leaving gear behind!), hoo-hoo, my first 5.8 lead. On rappel, I cleaned Mon Cherie and Escargot then it was Carol’s turn. Great climb for her, nice pictures of her when the sun started shining on her toward the top. Back on the ground, the rope is already set to top rope Mon Cherie, so I tied in and gave it another try. Back at the spot where I bailed before, I tried a couple things, rested and regrouped, and just went for it. Yay – I made it. On the ground, I commented to Carol how much bigger hand and foot holds look on top rope than they do on lead. Carol tied in and climbed straight to the top. Awesome. An excellent climbing day for us both.
Now what? Carol says “I want to do something that involves exercise” – I’m thinking we’re getting exercise, but I think she means more like hiking exercise. After some discussion, we tank up with gas and head for Death valley. We camped overnight in Panamint Valley. Beautiful moonrise – I can see the moon lighting the mountains to the west of us and then the light crawling towards us across the valley floor.
Saturday 11/15: Up, breakfast, break camp and head for Red Wall Canyon. It’s the better part of 70 miles (everything is a long way away in Death Valley) up and over Towne Pass. Two cordelettes, rock shoes, 2 liters of water and a few snacks and we’re hiking by 9:30 a.m. 2.3 miles (and 1000 feet up) of alluvial fan to negotiate then we’re in the canyon. Half a mile later we’re at the 25-ft fall that turned us back two years ago. Rock shoes, packs tied to cordelette, up I go. Awkward but easy. Someone has left behind a piece of webbing, but I don’t know what it’s anchored to so I don’t use it. Carol climbed up and now we’re in the 1st narrows. Pretty cool. Lots more hiking, red rocks, tortured rock folding (some 180 degrees), lots of climbing, 4.7 miles in (2,400 feet up) we decide we’ve had enough. Back down, it’s a long ways to the mouth of the canyon, then there’s that long alluvial fan again. Back at the truck, it feels like the pain / pleasure quotient is about 100, but a couple beers, Vitamin I and time reset the Q to maybe 10. Today all I remember is the pretty stuff.
Again, the question becomes now what? We decide there are other things we could do in DV, but why not do them in the spring when there are happy flowers everywhere to inspire and cheer. Back to Panamint Valley for the night. The moon is rising about an hour later every night, so tonight we get more time to enjoy the stars before the moon washes them out.
Sunday, 11/16: Up at a leisurely hour, today is a “rest day”. Nice breakfast, coffee, some reading with a view of the Panamint Dunes. About 10:00 a.m. – OK, enough of this, we head back to Lone Pine. Carol notices they’re selling showers at the Whitney Portal Hostel; why not, it’s been almost a week since my last. What a deal – $5 gets you an untimed hot shower, towel, bar of soap and container of shampoo. Recommended.
Now what? After some discussion, we decide we’ve had a trip and it’s time to head home. But first – I’ve tried to lead climb the Shark’s Fin twice before and didn’t make it. With Friday’s successes behind me, I’m sure I can lead it now. Off to the Shark’s Fin, don gear, “Climb On” and a short time later, I’m at the top – terrific view, fairly easy climb, can’t wait for Carol to try it. Oh, oh – there’s the anchor problem I talked about at the front of the report.
Clipped into the other anchor, a clumsy rappel down while cleaning gear (the rope is pulling hard to the left, I’m essentially downclimbing while on rappel to reach the original route) and I’m done. Carol will climb another day.
Pack up, gas up, off we go. Stopped at Indian Wells Brewing Co. and got three cases of beer (hey, it may be a long time before we’re back in the neighborhood). Checked out Walker Pass CG on the way, got a real Deliverance vibe from these two yahoos already there, so we kept going. Dinner in Mountain Mesa, then off to Stine’s Cove on Lake Isabella for the night. Unfortunately, about an hour after going to bed, a carload of real asses pulled in and cranked the rap on high and started partying for the night. An hour of this, screw it, we packed up and headed for home. It’s midnight; I can hardly see any more; we pulled into the Basalt CG near San Luis reservoir, parked and I was asleep in about 10 minutes, despite all the owls hooting.
Monday, 11/17: Morning, lots of birds outside – I thought I heard magpies, sure enough when I got up there were at least a dozen yellow-billed magpies roaming the campground. Beautiful birds. Their bright bill extends back so far it makes it look like they’re smiling. We gave them some shredded wheat – instead of eating it, they took it off and cached it, raking leaves over the cache. With all the other magpies watching – hope that works out – ha.
Home, unpack, wash, collapse. A great trip.