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Saturday 11th What the heck am I going to do with today? Ring. Ring. Hmm. Telemarketers are early this morning. Ring. Ring.
"Hello?" James. This is James' voice, he with the unmistakeable Sydney brawler's brogue. He should be staggering about gasping for breath on the streets of some high altitude town in Peru right now. James caught the plane yesterday. Didn't he? No. His flight was delayed. Enough so that he was going to miss the once-a-day only connection to Lima from Miami Beach. Rather than bum around in Florida he chose to post-pone his trip until Wednesday. Among other things James plans on walking part of the Inca Trail, specifically the bit which goes over Machu Picchu. It was first on his list. But what happened? His flight was delayed by the brief (but violent) storms we experienced last night. Bummer. These same storms brought an end to a heatwave that had clamped down upon the whole East Coast for the last week and a bit. When James rang up I had been enjoying the relief of a morning cool. I had also been tossing up whether or not I should call Patrice and force him to make good on an easy agreement he made with me the previous evening whilst under the agreeable influence of alcohol. Patrice had said "Yes, I would like to go climbing with you tomorrow." But promises bought with beer are rarely brought to bear. Not successfully anyway. James asked, "Are you going climbing today?" He wanted something to do so he didn't have to fume over his temporarily thwarted travels. Brilliant. "Yes mate, I was going to go … er … " think! think! "… to Sleeping Giant today with Patrice. You know, my French mate who works in Leila's lab. I'm sure you've met him at one of the BBQs. Hey, you wanna come along?" We both knew what the answer was, but there are formalities to be observed.
"Yeah I remember him. Great. What time?" Awesome. Now for Patrice. Dial. Ring. Ring. "Allo?" Patrice first had to check with his lovely wife Delphine if it was ok to go and risk his life climbing with the crazy Australian. He would call back. Some time passed. Ring. Ring.
"Yep?" Sleeping Giant. But what route? Ah yes … Weissner's Rib (5.6). Of course, let's do the classic. I've never led it before, not all of it anyway, and it's the climb that Leon and I had always hunted for, missing it by just a whisker on one occasion. It was the first Connecticut route that we ever knew anything about (except exactly where it was). I learned the precise line a few months ago, climbing it with John Peterson (who led it) and Gary Sax. I'll bet Patrice doesn't even know what poison ivy looks like. James, well, he's madder than a cut snake so a bit of poison ivy wouldn't bother him, not in the slightest. I set to work organizing my gear. Along with my trusty old gold 50 metre rope I had another, brand new, rope (Sterling 60m 9.7mm, twistier than a cork-screw but cheap) and it was time to break it in. Plenty of home-made draws (i.e. slings and crabs), couple of extra long slings, two sets of wired nuts, a few hexes, tri-cams, a standard set of camalots and just enough lockers. Grabbed Leila's harness and shoes for Patrice. Also picked out two bike helmets for the guys (I have a Kong climbing helmet). James rocked up and told me his horror story of hours in line at La Guardia last night and then coming back to New Haven in a blue funk. He asked if we could briefly stop over at the American Airways desk before going climbing so he could pick up his rescheduled flight tickets. Of course nothing went smoothly and I eventually called up Patrice to tell him that we might be a little late. "That's ok. Ah … can Sophie come along as well?" Sophie? Wait … I remember … Sophie is the petite french climber who I have top-roped with before and maybe also gone to the gym with (but not for a long time). It dawned on me that Patrice possibly thinks we're just going to top-rope today. Ha! But can I take three people with me on two ropes? Sure I can, John Peterson even demonstrated how I can do it. "Sure, no worries! We'll be there in a little while." James and I talked about how we might avoid the poison ivy. I was keen on walking around to the top and then rapping down to the base (this would avoid the band of poison ivy that grows along the scree just down from the bottom of the cliffs). James agreed that it was ok, but he had never set up a spider rappel and was used to rapping with a figure eight device (not an ATC, which he has now). Not to worry, on the job training would fix that, I assured him. We reach Patrice's place and he and Sophie are there. Sophie has no gear, at least no gear here in the USA. So we rush back to my place to pick up the last spare harness (this one actually belongs to Annette Kolar, but she doesn't seem to want it back). Sophie will have to climb in sneakers, but she probably has good kung-fu so I'm not too worried about that. And thus, finally, at around 1pm we finally roll into Sleeping Giant State Park. Divide up the gear and hike it in. Ack … I'm out of shape … we reach the trail that passes beneath the cliffs and I stop and pretend to reconnoitre the route while actually recapturing my breath. You know, maybe the poison ivy doesn't look so bad at all. It would take a long time to walk all the way up and around to the top. Hey, guys, why don't we just go straight up the scree and carefully pick a path through the poison ivy to the base of the cliffs from here? Clearly the French don't know a thing about poison ivy because they agree immediately. James … well … I've already said that he's a madman. So up we struggle through the scree and mini-talus towards the green band of death (ok, ok, so it's merely a green band of dermal discomfiture … but green band of death sure sounds better). I call a halt and pretend that I know what I'm doing … don't worry, well just step where the green stuff aint and we should be ok. Please don't drag the ropes through poison ivy folks, one of them is brand new! Amazingly, I think (scratch scratch) that we managed to avoid the dreaded stuff and reached the base of the climb. Here I spent a long time sorting out gear, making an anchor at a belay ledge about 10 feet up and to the left, and then carefully getting everyone positioned for the start. I tied myself in at the ends of both the (new) red rope and the (old) gold rope, James at the middle of the red rope and Patrice at the other end of it. Sophie I marooned at the end of the gold rope. James would belay me on the red rope to a big ledge a little further than halfway up, then on the red rope I would belay James up (who would clean the gear), then Patrice and then Sophie on the gold rope. I could tell already that rope management was going to be tricky. I did an internal sanity check. Yep my lead head feels fine, let's go! The first step or two are just a tiny bit thoughtful, but the protection was working out ok. I moved up to an abutment which precedes a slightly nervy (but short) friction traverse right with poor hand-holds. I was expecting this and was prepared when it came. Then a short scramble up and right to about 16 feet of corner crack in a (left facing) dihedral which required a few strenuous layback moves with counterpressure and smearing on very smooth faces (I found this pretty demanding, possibly the hardest section to lead on the pitch). This is followed by another 10 feet of a lightning bolt finger crack left and up at a 45° angle across a not-quite-so-featureless face (which has a little tree growing out of its center) to a very large ledge. There I stopped to set the belay anchor. I had used all but one of my draws and about twenty six meters of rope (85 feet) and I was a little tired (both physically and mentally). It occurred to me here that Sophie's sneakers might give her some trouble on this climb. James came up next and performed very well, he cleaned all the protection and used his length to great advantage. For him positive hand holds would always be within reach, all he had to do was find them and finding them he was. The only thing that gave him trouble was the layback section (not being a big fan of the technique), but he worked it out and was soon romping up the lightning bolt crack to my ledge. James is getting pretty bloody quick. I posted him against the wall and asked if he could sort out all the gear for me while I brought up the others. Patrice came next, carrying the pack (which was a little heavy). He had some trouble at that first abutment and the pack had his balance pretty screwed up. Still he made it, somehow avoiding the short traverse (by hauling straight up and then stepping across). The layback section was very difficult but required him more to exhaust himself than anything else. Coming up the last crack was troublesome and he had a little problem starting it, but once started he was able to heave himself up and onto the ledge. Patrice was very tired and somewhat bloodied by the climb. Patrice and I have only climbed together on one previous occasion. I had set up a top-rope during last fall somewhere else in Sleeping Giant. He had some fun and I learned then that he had climbed (top-rope) in France some years ago. But today he was in new territory and that damn pack would torture him all the way to the top. Finally it was Sophie's turn and judging from how quickly I had to pull the rope through the gi-gi she found the first steps very easy. James informed me, pursuant to discussions held during my lead, that Sophie has herself lead climbed before and that we should expect her to be ok. The abutment which stopped Patrice, stopped her also, but eventually she made the move as the route intended (sneakers not withstanding) and somehow got enough friction from her shoes to complete it. It was that layback section, which had plagued us all, that caused her the most difficulty. Without sticky rubber on her feet she had one hell of a time moving upward, falling once or twice (I managed to squeeze one of my fingers between rope and rock during one of the catches … ouch). Eventually she layed back and used her right hip for counter-pressure and friction, her feet only providing a little extra counter-pressure on the opposite wall of the dihedral. The last crack was also tricky for her, but not too bad. She too eventually struggled up onto the ledge with the rest of us. I could see that much of the skin on her legs had been scraped. But Sophie is tough and her kung-fu is definitely strong. We spent the next hour just trying to sort out the tangle of the ropes. I eventually switched everyone from clove-hitches on lockers to girth-hitched slings on lockers in order to free the ropes enough to finally work out the mess. I also switched James and Patrice around on the red rope (Patrice to the middle, James on the end) and then reversed the order in which I wanted them all to follow me up (having learned that it doesn't help a climber to follow a line no longer marked out by protection … James had removed the pro as he climbed the first pitch, leaving some doubt in the minds of the other two as to where to go until I could see them enough to give clues). So during my next lead I would clip in both ropes to all the protection I placed. Sophie would follow on the gold and leave the red rope clipped while she unclipped her own. Then Patrice (tied into the middle of the red rope) would follow and reclip the red rope in (for James) as he passed pro. James would come last and clean the gear. While Sophie and James and I messed about with the ropes on the ledge, Patrice found enough strength to call up Delphine on a mobile phone and have a chat (probably telling her just how crazy I must be). Then Delphine called him back, then someone else called, and then (mercifully) the battery died. James put me on belay and the lead for the second pitch was pretty good. The holds were a little tricky to find but they were positive and the exposure was thought-provoking. Initially the line stepped right and off the big ledge to go around the bottom of the last big arete (tricky to protect) which marks the "rib" of the route. It followed up the right side of the arete for a while, then there was an airy (i.e. scary) step back around to the left side (where one of the original ascent pins can still be found) before the climb continues to the top. I ran out the last four metres or so and hauled over the last edges feeling very very good. It was done, I had finally completed Weissner's Rib! No falls either. Sophie came next and in her sneakers found the going a little tough, although on this section it was Sophie's small size that made some demands of her. Pausing before the last exposed traverse from right to left she struggled to find necessary hand holds within reach. Sophie must have been somewhat frustrated because when she finally muscled it up a little higher in the pocket she yielded to language most foul. I could do naught but pardon her "french" and let the comment pass. The traverse was completed and she continued up on the left side with only slight difficulty. Patrice followed up with the pack again. His efforts at unclipping and clipping the rope suggested that it was not something he was used to, but he was ok. He also had a little trouble at the last traverse, hand holds being slightly out of reach. However, once through that he motored up the last run quite satisfactorily. James was very fast. I don't know what else to say. In business-like fashion he moved smoothly between the pieces and collected everything. The french were disgusted by his failure to even hesitate at the last traverse, reaching around with his long left arm and then stepping around in one single fluid movement. Looks like I'm going to have to start leading 5.7s to keep this boy interested. We were all done, finally … it had been a long afternoon, by the time we reached the car it was 5.45pm. Four and three-quarter hours car to car!? Lots of time had been soaked up at the base sorting people, ropes and a good belay anchor. Most time was lost on the belay ledge at the end of the first pitch when the ropes had to be untangled and redistributed. If I'm going to take three people up The Standard Route on New Hampshire's Whitehorse Ledge next Saturday, it's eight pitches long, I'm going to have to rethink my rope management! Anyway, the important thing is that we were all up and down and safety, in my humble opinion, was very tight. That night we went (with about thirty thousand people) to catch Ray Charles on the New Haven Green. It was a fantastic day all round. James finally took off for his trip on Wednesday.
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