We had been trying to get out to do this climb all winter long but stuff just kept coming up. Either scheduling issues with one or the other of us, or snow seemed to be our constant nemesis. Snow in the desert you say? You bet! It was a cold wet winter and this climb had a starting elevation of about 1,600m. That being said we were also starting to get concerned with summer rapidly approaching, when it would be far too hot. Eventually however all the planets aligned and we set off from home at about zero-dark thirty on April 17th. We had a little over a two hour drive ahead of us, the last 30km or so being on gravel and rough FSR’s. This was the first time I was going to be taking the Subie Forrester over such terrain, so I was a bit anxious, but it worked like a champ. Should have been filming a commercial. The whole day though had me going over in my mind something my old compadre the Desert Mountaineer once told me: “you don’t have to start sweating until you break into the second spare tire “. Well, the only spare we had was the rinky-dinky doughnut. All’s well that ended well, but if I do any more of this ‘off-roading’ stuff, I think I’ll pick me up a full sized spare.
Eventually after some water crossings and some really rocky sections we reached the end of the road. It was a staggeringly beautiful and pretty cold spot. There were a couple of climbers from California camped there and we chatted with one of the fellows for a bit while we were packing up. He heartily endorsed our choice of climb, telling us that we would giggle our way up it and that it had one of the best splitter cracks this side of Yosemite. This guy had all of Cali to climb in, and yet he spent multiple weeks a year here because of how magical it is.
This was all we needed to hear, and soon we were on our way. The approach is up a boulder choked stream bed and should have taken us 15 minutes, but as usual we got off course a tad (even with two working GPS units) and ended up backtracking, which burned up about an additional 15 minutes or so. It was still early in the day and the delay wasn’t worrisome; not one little bit.
Maybe now’s a good time to talk about my partners. I’ve been pretty lucky to have found some new and really cool climbing partners this last year, which has resulted in some fun days out. What’s really great is that these guys are a father and son team. The dad is a super strong sport and gym climber, but get this… no trad experience. I figure you gotta learn somehow right?, so tie in and take the sharp end. The old tried and tested Viking swimming lessons. This is exactly what we have been doing and he is absolutely crushing (and loving) it. The son is no slouch either. A strong lad in the gym, who is starting to get a taste of the real thing. Oh, by the way… did I mention he is 11 years old?
Finally we arrived at the base of the route, and wasted no time in tying in and starting up. Our plan was that my buddy would lead all the pitches and his son and I would climb together as seconds, and I would belay, clean the gear, and critique the placements. I have to admit though, that the first pitch was not at all what I was expecting based upon the guidebook description; which in essence talked about moving up a crack system past a few 5.6 moves. Well the part about the crack system was legit, and maybe I’m getting old and feeble, but that seemed stiffer than 5.6 to me. One section was pretty much a squeeze chimney, which wearing a pack made it interesting to say the least. In fact I was stuck pretty good for a minute. We we got to the belay, and it turned out my buddy was having so much fun he linked the first two pitches. So that’s what was taking so long from our perspective as seconds, and causing him so much rope drag from his perspective as a leader.
No harm, no foul. Two pitches in the bag, two to go (or three depending upon the route description). The third pitch was great. A very easy and fun blend of cracks and chicken heads, which deposited us on a huge ledge right below the money pitch. Note: the ropes look kinda goofy in the photo below, but I can assure you that everything was kosher.
And what a pitch that last one was. The various route descriptions available, offer up three options to finish the climb, but the one up the splitter hand crack is the obvious one to do without a doubt. It’s rated 5.8. But it’s real no fooling, honest to god 5.8. My buddy led it like a pro, even though it was his hardest trad lead to date. I figured the youth would find it challenging, but you know what?, he scampered up that thing like it was nobody’s business. It’s always interesting watching how gym and most sport climbers deal with cracks when they are first exposed to them. This climb was no exception… always looking for ways to face climb crack features. One of the route descriptions talked about belaying from chicken heads on the low angled ramp above the crack, making a 5th pitch, but this seemed ludicrous since the summit block was so close. I suppose this would make some sense if you didn’t place some sort of directional anchor at the top of the crack (which we did), because the second could take a significant swing if for some reason they came off.
The top of the climb had some chicken heads and a good crack for some cams for the last belay. However the climbing wasn’t over. There was a tricky down climb of about 4m that we had to negotiate. I suppose we would have actually done the down climb if push came to shove, but there was no need. Two of us rope lowered, and my buddy rapped it. There is an unbelievably convenient horn of rock that you can loop the rope over for just this purpose, without having to leave any slings or whatnot.
From the top we needed to work our way northwest along the ridge for a few hundred meters until we could pick up the well marked descent trail. Within 25 minutes we were back at the car pretty chuffed, but tired. I was still fretting the long drive back out, but yet again the Subie worked like the champ that it is. I knew what I was going to be doing the following day… washing the car.
This is a climb that is worthy of doing again, but there are a few things I would do differently next time. First off I would get the aforementioned full sized spare tire for the Forrester, or better yet have someone else drive. Secondly…. I believe that we were probably ‘over-racked’ for the climb. Better safe than sorry, I know, but I think at least 1/4 of the rack could have been left on the ground. If I recall correctly there was never more than 2 tied-off chicken heads on a given pitch; we had a surplus of runners. Speaking of which I would plan on bringing narrower ones better suited to the task at hand.
Bonus: Whilst girth-hitching a chicken head or flake, will work in many instances, and it’s easy to do one handed, the superior method is using a slip knot. This knot allows the runner to be cinched tightly around the feature in question, and thus reduces the chance of webbing lifting off the chicken head once the leader passes it. These can also be, with practice, tied easily with one hand, and results in a much safer option.
