Saturday 3^rd.

Tiny little spheres of ice were bouncing off my jacket. I had just packed all the climbing gear in the car and was about to go and pick up Leon when a freezing rain began to fall from the sky.

Bugger.

Leila appeared above me on the balcony holding the phone. It was Leon.

"How's it going?" He asked.
"Mate have you looked outside?" I countered.
"Not yet."
"It's bloody raining!"

As usual, with our climbing days dwindling away Leon and I were highly motivated to ignore the weather. "Thor's Hammer", a beautiful 5.9 classic lead on the Merimere face of East Peak which overlooked Meriden's reservoir in central CT, was calling. It had scared us off once (see report Feb 4th), kicked us off a second time (report Feb 11th) and we were determined to try it for a third. We decided to go for a drive out to the reservoir anyway. The weather might clear up and we might try the climb regardless. Bidding farewell to the fantastic Finn I went and picked up my mad Mexican mate.

Our gear complement had been much enlarged by further loans and acquisitions. As one may recall we had borrowed a large #4 camalot, a big tube chock and a big bro' (sort of an expandable tube chock) from John Peterson just for this climb. We had also borrowed a #4 camalot and a #3 camalot from Gary of the Prime Climb gym. Further to this, both Leon and I had in recent weeks each purchased several mid-sized camming devices. I had three new camalots (#1, #2 and #3) and Leon had three new Wild Country cams. We were, in a very real sense, cammed up to our eyeballs and straining at our chains.

So the bloody weather could go to hell.

Sure enough our quirky sort of luck seemed to rescue us at the last moment. The freezing rain died away as we headed up the Interstate and just as we swung into Hubbard Park below the reservoir, sunlight streamed through slowly widening gaps in the cloud cover. Acknowledging our good fortune and with much lightened spirits we hiked it in along the reservoir road. By now most of the big snows had melted away, although everything had been dusted again by a light snowfall from the previous day. The going was a little treacherous, Leon slipped while crossing a swathe of ice and took a hard fall onto his left side. A little bruised and sore he nevertheless limped onward.

We moved up the scree field and up the loose choss to the base of Thor's Hammer with no further incident, although we missed the secure purchase previously afforded us by a now absent snow pack. Leon spotted a small blue utility driving along the road on the other side of the reservoir. Possibly the firebrand Nichols out patrolling his turf.

It was pleasant standing in the sun at the base and we had been warmed considerably by the hike, so I peeled off an unwanted jacket and started to prepare for my lead. We had agreed that I would repeat the first pitch and set a belay at the little ledge just after the first roof, then Leon would lead the second pitch up into unknown territory. We were quite confident and fairly pleased with ourselves as it was, you see we had just discovered a very nice little bonus. Leon's #8 Trango fcu was still up there waiting for us to retrieve it.

OK, I suppose a little explanation is due here. In the previous report I described how we had bailed from the first belay, and how Leon's #8 Trango had been left in the first roof in an abnormal configuration as we bailed. We had assumed that it might be damaged, perhaps a trigger wire had snapped to release one of the camming lobes. In any case I had written that we walked to the top of the climb, Leon rapped down and retrieved gear. Well, I wasn't specific about exactly what it was that he had retrieved, he couldn't reach the Trango and was forced to abandon it. But we had every intention of eventually getting it back.

Abandoned gear is fair game for any who may retrieve it. Such salvage is an accepted part of the climbing milieu. We knew it would be two or three weeks before we might return (due to our separate travel commitments) to the cliff, so it was possible that someone might beat us back and get the piece ahead of us. But we had a few aces up our sleeve. Firstly, it's winter and very few people are climbing now. Secondly, those who would be climbing are probably fairly hard core and not necessarily attracted to a winter ascent of a medium difficulty climb such as "Thor's". Thirdly, I was somewhat circumspect about it in my report … being aware that a handful of local climbers might read it (a link to the story was published on Tradgirl’s website). So with only the lesser sin of ommission we kept our mouths shut about the Trango, while discussing our attempt with other climbers.

Sneaky sneaky bastards. Yes we are.

Once again I splashed into the mud of the first and lowest crack. Almost all of the ice which had dogged me before was gone, only a few broken pieces lying at our feet where all that remained. The climb was easy, and surprisingly so. I was prepared for what lay ahead and knew that it was within my abilities to reach the planned belay, for some reason I felt really comfortable and was able to lead this more smoothly than I have led anything in a long time. So I climbed up to the second and larger crack, and on up to the roof without having to hang on anything. But the roof was very hard work, there I rested on pieces for most of the time. Jamming John's beautiful old #4 camalot into the roof, and feeling it take hold in its business-like way, I felt very safe. I love this piece. Hanging from that I was able to inspect Leon's forlorn Trango. One lobe flipped and its compatriot dipped, the other pair of lobes were biting as usual. It wasn't damaged at all, just a twist had resulted in one of the lobes slipping upward. With some work I managed to extricate the damn thing, inspect it further and then (satisfied with its integrity) repositioned it. In all, moving towards the ledge, I sewed up that roof with four cams (John's #4 camalot, Leon's trango and Gary's #4 and #3 camalots). You could've hung a bus from them.

I made the belay ledge and set up a pretty good anchor. I was feeling very comfortable and pretty warm, even though it had clouded up again. Below me Leon broke down the belay and prepared for his own climb. I took up the slack and adjusted my position, hanging halfway up the cliff. This was what I really enjoyed about traditional lead climbing, securing myself on the wall and preparing for Leon to join me, it was a sense of being neither up nor down. In a little while my mexican friend, having followed my lead with little trouble, was standing on a small ledge above me. We exchanged a fair amount of gear, he took any remaining large cams I had, and he set off for the second pitch.

Another crack runs about 25 feet up to a second roof, and the crack widens inexorably into a thin chimney further up. As it has from the first large crack, the route continues to overhang until after the second roof. The effort took its toll on Leon as he moved up towards that roof, he had to excecute some reasonably careful moves and he was pretty gripped until managing to protect at the top of the crack. Clambering around the roof and up into the chimney was exciting, as evidenced by the mexican's groaning and fluent swearing, but once he made that chimney I knew it was now only a matter of time. The Hammer was as good as done. Sure enough Leon eventually squeezed his way up and then out onto the lowest ledge at the top of the climb.

"I'm safe!" He shouted, sounding as half-astonished as I was feeling.

He finished the cakewalk end of the climb, set up a belay anchor and bade me follow his line. Relishing each well-defined section, appreciating the delicacy of moves and acknowledging the strength required for Leon to bring us over the top, I enjoyed every last inch of the ascent. This was a truly great climb, one to come back to again and again.

Awesome.

At the top we shook hands and congratulated each other on finishing our first classic 5.9 trad lead.

Around my neck was a special talisman I had brought to bring me luck for this specific climb, it was a little bronze stylised representation of Thor's hammer on a chain given to me by Leila some years ago. Worked like a charm.