Climbing at Franklin

I had grand dreams for the weekend: I was going to onsight a few 5.13s under a clear blue sky at Franklin on Saturday, then on Sunday in the cool spring breeze, with the help of visiting Australian rock star Megan Dunn, I would put up a few bold first ascents at Seneca in the "5.11" range - which of course would be 5.12s everywhere else.

Then I woke up on Friday. Well, at least it was a good dream, while it lasted. And then weather was cold and dreary on Friday. And I have a whole bunch of junk I need to move to my new (and very old at the same time) place. And I was tired from all the packing and the moving of boxes. And I was feeling stressed because I didn't think I could finish the move before my vacate date.

Friday evening came and I've only managed to move half of my stuff. So I had to call Megan and apologize to her, for we would not be putting up any bold FAs at Seneca on Sunday. She would have to settle for one day of bolt clipping at Franklin, and watching me doing the Elvis dance on a 5.8.

I dare to say I rocked the move even better than Elvis himself.

After moving boxes into the wee hour of the night, and getting a little sketched seeing the neighborhood teenagers (I assumed that they lived in the neighborhood) standing around the street corner doing... apparently, nothing... which was even more suspicious. I crashed on the floor of my old apartment (because my bed has already been moved) and woke up 4 hours later, ready for a sunny and warm day at Franklin. Oh one can always hope.

Getting to Vegas's house after an 1.5-hour drive and a slight detour (in which I got hopelessly lost), I met up with everyone else, who had spent the night at Vegas's place: Megan, Henry, Gil, and of course the world famous Vegas himself. We dragged Megan out of her slumber so early, she was forced to climb in her pajamas (with cute Snoopy prints) for the rest of the day. Rumors of wild parties the previous night were in the air, but none was willing to speak. What happens in Vegas's house, stays in in Vegas's house. After a very good breakfast (thanks Vegas!), we set off to Franklin, totally ignoring the fact that we had to use the windshield wipers on the drive there.

It was still quite misty when we got to Franklin (without any detours thanks to Henry), but the rock looked dry. We went to Impact Zone... because that's where all the easy routes are. Vegas set to lead First Aid (5.7 - his first outdoor lead) with Henry belaying, And I belayed Megan, who eagerly jumped on Castaway (5.8)... almost too eagerly, I didn't even have my harness on and she was already clipping the anchors. After I lowered Megan from Castaway, Henry and Vegas were swapping places with Henry leading First Aid. Since the easiest route in the entire gorge was sadly taken, I had no choice but to get on Castaway. It was more awkward and pumpier than I remembered... having already climbed this on TR on my first trip to Franklin last May. It was about the third bolt when I remembered I was supposed to entertain Megan with my Elvis impersonation, so I went at it with vigor. I got to the anchors without hanging or falling (boy that would've been embarrassing!), clipped myself in with a PAS (a daisychain-like contraption), and promptly dropped the rope... so I can take some non-butt shots of Gil leading, and also to show him how to clean the anchor. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

Gil led the route without showing any signs that he liked Elvis. Pity. I went through how to clean the anchor with him, but he seemed to know most of it already. Megan lowed Gil, I rapped after him, but before I even touched down on the ground Megan was already eager to get on something else. I waited around a little longer, watching Vegas doing another nice lead on Castaway, then we moved to Belly of the Whale (5.7). The condition of this route was strangely similar to the last time I climbed it (Jon Moen led it and I TR'ed it). Bottom 2/3 of the route was nice and dry, but the top 1/3 was a waterfall. Megan asked, "So who wants to be the draw monkey?" We all looked at her expectantly (I with a mouthful of clif bars). She pretended to sigh and look unhappy, but she didn't do a very good job. So Megan had the pleasure of warming up the hand holds for the rest of us, while Gil belayed. She had to do a tricky little hand sequence to get the crux move, using a non-existing crimper for her left hand. But she did it without much trouble, and soon was swimming to the anchors for her second onsight of the day. I redpointed the route after Megan, bypassing the little crimper she used at the crux for a better jug higher up - since I remember the route from the last time I TR'ed it. Vegas went up after me, he had a little trouble committing to the crux, but he got it after figuring out where the jug was (NOT everything with chalk on it is a jug).

Megan was eager to get on something else (a bit warmer) again, so we made our way to Jumpstart (5.8). At this point Megan decided climbing with me will never give her a good aerobic workout, so she proceeded to drop her down jacket on the trail. The down jacket was stuffed in its own sack, which was round and bouncy, so it rolled ALL THE WAY down to the road, and Megan scrambled after it. Meanwhile, being the perfect gentleman that I am, I fiddled with my backpack to look busy.

Vegas soon joined me, upon learning about Megan's down jacket misfortune, he scrambled downhill after her to give her a hand. Realizing his gentlemanly gesture could potentially cause me my climbing partner for Red Rocks, I hesitantly scrambled after him, carefully keeping myself above him so 1) I didn't have to walk as far as he did; 2) if I were to slip and fall, at least I take someone with me. Luckily Vegas came to his senses that there was nothing much we could do to help, so he stopped shortly after we started the down scramble. Megan retrieved her down jacket from the road, taking a short break to chat with a fisherman, "No, I'm not crazy. Yes, there are cliffs up there." and fought the long uphill battle to get back on the trail. She looked a little rosy faced and breathing heavily when she got back, no doubt because she was so excited to go climb Jumpstart.

We finally made it to Jumpstart safely, even the down jacket. Vegas roped up for his onsight, taking the cave start with enthusiasm. After a bit of confusion, in which he tried every move known to man except a figure-4 to get on a big jug, he led the rest of the route without much trouble. Megan flashed the route after Vegas, carefully skipping the bit of confusion that stumbled Vegas in the beginning.

Since I've already led Jumpstart on my last trip, I decided to save my strength for a... ummmm... harder route. So we moved to where Shipwreck was, just when Henry and Gil were heading over to climb Jumpstart. So we left them to fend for themselves yet again, sorry guys! But my mind was preoccupied with my next route... since it was my term to lead, and there was no getting around it. I wanted to do Shipwreck, but it is listed as a 5.9+ in the guidebook, and I've had some surprises with the pluses, especially at Great Falls and Carderock. So I'm always a bit wary of anything with a plus sign next to it. To the left of Shipwreck there was a 5.9 called Wasp that I have not heard of (turn out there was a good reason why I've never heard of it), no plus, no minus, just plain 5.9. I decided to give this route a try.

The first bolt was low enough, maybe 10 feet off the ground. But it was on a face, and the face looked pretty hard. To make things easier on my spotter, I climbed a big crack to the left of the bolt, which essentially extended all the way to the anchors. One or two 5.7 moves, maybe even 5.6, and the first bolt was reached. From there I traversed out to the face, then a mantle, and I was on a big ledge with a low angle scramble up to the second bolt... that was about 15 feet above the first. A bit runout for comfort, but at least the moves were easy. I clipped the second bolt, looked up for the third bolt, and a little voice in my head screamed "nooooooooo!!" The third bolt, or from where I was standing, what appeared to be the third bolt, was at least 20 feet higher than where I was. It was situated on a slightly bulging face, definitely not an easy scramble to get there. I thought about bailing, but bailing after essentially two 5.6 moves and then a stretch of 4th class scrambling would not help my hardman image. I mean, how would I ever get sponsorship and free redbulls for life if I don't at least TRY to lead some 5th class climbing. So I pretended to try, but in fact I was just going to climb up two more moves then call it a day and go eat fried bananas. Sadly two moves later I discovered the real third bolt located on a low angle face, hidden from view from below. I pretended to be pleasantly surprised by it, yet secretly I was cursing my luck: now I have no excuse but to finish leading the thing.

Somewhere between the second and the fourth bolt, the route got seriously chossy. There were at least two big white X's marking where you shouldn't pull, but what was left unmarked shouldn't be trusted either, until you beat the crap out of it with the palm of your hand first. The route also went from low angle to a bit past vertical at this point, so I stepped up gingerly, trying not to pull the whole route off on top of myself and my belayer, and getting pumped at the same time. At one point, I think it was the fourth bolt, I was making a long reach to my right to clip it, and suddenly feeling myself barn dooring. I quickly grab the rock with my right hand and caught myself. "Whew!"

I think the crux of the route, besides not pull off any loose rock, was the move to the anchors. I clipped the 5th bolt, made an attempt to pull up to the anchor by hauling myself high on a jug, lock off my right hand, then reaching up with my left hand and pawing for a good hand hold... basically, not using any good technique. There was no jug for my left hand, at least not anything I could use in my present body position. So I downclimbed back to the last good ledge, then traversed left and stuffed myself inside the crack I mentioned earlier. By jamming my body in there, I was able to get a good no hand rest. I looked down at Megan and Vegas pleadingly, hoping they'd take pity on me and say "I'll lead it for you!", I even had the puppy eyes ready. But they were both looking at the ground, pretending not to notice me. Nowhere to go but up, I took a deep breath, came out from the comfort of my hiding place in the crack, worked my feet up on the arete, and used a sidepull/layback move using a good hold for my right hand, and stepped up to the jug where my hands were a second ago. My left hand was still frantically pawing for a good jug, failing to find anything I could call a jug, I stuffed myself into the crack yet again. Megan and Vegas must be getting bored, they were awefully quiet down there. After a bit of depumping (I seem to need depumping after every move), I nervously left the comfort of the crack, got my left hand on a fairly good hold on the lip, and tried to clip the anchor. I got one quickdraw in one of the anchors... feeling my left forearm burning... "clipping!"... pull up slack to clip... too short... bite the rope, pull up some more slack... left hand can't hold on much longer... why am I having trouble pinch clipping... why is my left palm so sweaty... of course all this happened only in a few seconds, but I decided that I will not able to clip the rope, so instead of risking a long fall, I dropped the slack and quickly went back to my "happy place" in the crack, tail tucked between my legs. After another depump session, during which I think I heard some snoring from down below, I figured out that I could stem my left leg, and make a long reach right and barely get the quickdraw on the bolt. This time I was successful. Thank god.

I'll skip the mini epic I had trying to fix the draws so the gates on the rope can be opposed. I got lower to the ground, and promptly told Megan and Vegas, "Oh it wasn't too bad." Haha, suckers!! Megan went after me, with Vegas belaying. She disliked the choss factor as much as I did, and after using the same no hand rest I used at the 5th bolt, she decided just to go straight up the crack, using a bit of chimney technique here and there. And she said she doesn't like chimneys. Right. Vegas went up last, getting to the anchor without major epics. Henry and Gil showed up after finishing Jumpstart, but neither of them showed any interest in climbing Wasp. That was too bad, it really was... a... nice... oh who am I kidding. No wonder why no one ever mentions it. So Vegas cleaned the anchor and got lowered.

It was getting late by now, we only had time for one more route. Somehow, Henry and I talked our fearless leader Vegas into leading the super classic Blood, Sweat, and Chalk (5.9+). Racking up all the quickdraws he brought on this trip, the fearless leader sets out into the unknown. The first half of the route was slightly overhanging but juggy, Vegas made short work of it. A short rest on a small ledge half way up, and Vegas was ready to tackle the second half of the route. The holds are rounder and less juggy here, and it was still a bit overhanging, so there were no good rest stances. Vegas clipped the last bolt, and was baffled by the last moves to the anchor. I TR'ed this route last year, and I didn't even do it clean then. I remember the last moves pulling the small overhang were not obvious at all, and I think many people get tricked into going left or going right. I tried both ways, finally just power through the middle to the anchor. Vegas tried going right, but he seemed to have trouble getting a good hand hold, after climbing up and down once or twice, he decided to commit to the move, but still was not able to pull it. "Falling!!" I caught him on a small pendulum fall, but he was ok. He hauled himself back to the last spot, rested for a bit, then fired through the middle of the overhang to the anchor. This time he made it, although later he said he barely had enough strength left to push open the wiregate on his quickdraw. It was a great lead, his first time leading outdoors, and it was the sixth route route he led that day. Vegas was our hero.

It was getting dark now, Megan was too cold to enjoy anymore climbing, I decided I will not be able to lead Blood, Sweat, Chalk in better style than the way I led Wasp, so Henry and Gil toproped on Blood, Sweat, and Chalk, then we packed up everything up and started the long drive back to DC. In Harrisburg, Henry saw this little Vietnamese place before I-81, next to the $1 sushi place. I wanted $1 sushi, but everyone else thought it sounded kind of sketchy, so we decided to give the Vietnamese place a try. It turned out to be a REALLY GOOD place, the noodles were excellent, and the fried banana was really good as well. I think it will become our favorite place to stop for dinner after a hard day at Franklin. Vegas brought back a menu from them so he can give everyone better directions.

It was a good day of climbing. The weather was not the best, but the rock was dry... for the most part. Thanks to Vegas for driving and letting us crash at his place. Thanks to Megan for being the draw money. Thanks to Henry for letting me use his brand new hot pink rope. Thanks to Gil for putting up with us. We got on some good climbs, I remembered how much of a chicken I am on lead, Megan learned that "Canyoning" is "Canyoneering" in the US, Vegas became my hero, Henry was wondering why Gandalf was smoking his pipe while Pipin was laying in bed in "Return of the King", and Gil was just Gil. Now that you've all bored to tears, I will release part 2 of this TR called "The Long Drive Home" when you're less groggy.