Climbing adventures in BC - day 5 of 10, multipitch epicing
During dinner in the previous night, Megan and I had discussed our option for today, a) go check out another area with single-pitch routes, or b) if Megan is feeling 100%, go tackle an easy multipitch route, which is my favorite type of climbing. After climbing at Shannon Falls, Megan felt that she was back at 100%, so multipitching it is!
Typical on a day of climbing an easy, classic multipitch route, we woke up very early, drove out of the campground shortly after the gate opened at 7 am, and was the second vehicle at the Apron's parking lot. There were two multipitch routes I wanted to do, Banana Peel (5.7, 8 pitches) and Diedre (5.8, 6 pitches). Normally I'd lean toward the easier of the two, but from looking at the guidebook, Banana Peel wonders a bit on the slab, while Diedre goes pretty much straight up with bolted belays. Since the weather is a big unknown, and Megan just recovered from being sick, we decided to do Diedre in favor of the easy retreat.
We racked up in the parking lot (at which point other cars began to show up as well), and started the approach. Soon we came to a point where the trail went left, and a scramble up a slab went up and right. Megan thought we should take the slab, I thought the slab cut back right too early. While I was trying to match guidebook description with what I see in front of me, a woman (Michelle?) wearing a harness and carrying a rope caught up to us from behind. I asked, "do you know which way is to Diedre?" "Yeah, I'm going to the same area, follow me, I'll take you there." Thanking her, we quickly followed her up the slab (Megan was right). After some pretty steep but easy scrambling, we arrived at a comfy ledge where Diedre starts. Michelle's partner was already there waiting for her, they racked up and started a runout slab to our right. I was a bit out of breathe from the approach, and hungry (haven't really eaten breakfast at this point), so I took a breather and had a cliff bar.
Just as I was getting ready to start on the first pitch, another team of two female climbers show up. We found out later that they were from Oregon. "Gotta move fast so I don't cause a traffic jam!" I thought as I set off on the slab. The first pitch started with about 30 feet of 5.4 friction slab with no protection at all, until you get to a birch tree on a small ledge. The climbing was easy, low angle enough that even though I'm not good on friction slabs, I still thought I could lead it. The moves didn't get any hard the higher I climbed, but it definitely got headier. A couple of feet from the birch tree now, I looked down and thought, "man, it's a loooooong way to fall!" I got a little scared, shaky, and breathing heavily. "I knew you were scared cuz I could hear you doing your weird breathing thhing", Megan later told me. But anyway, I had my fear under control long enough to grab the flake right below the birch tree, and pulled myself up to the ledge. "Friction climb is my nemesis!" I yelled down to Megan while I took out a double-length sling to tie around the tree.
Mommy, I'm scared!
Now the scary part is over, I was looking at section of 5.7 to the anchor. Choosing the easiest path possible, I made my way slowly toward the anchor. After spending 10 minutes trying to figure out a move that wasn't even very hard, I finally made it to the anchors.
I brought Megan up, and she decided to lead the 2nd pitch, which started with a unprotected 5.6 traverse on a slab. That was fine by me! By now the Oregon team behind us have started on the first pitch, and the woman leading it was making much faster progress than I was. The 2nd pitch was pretty short, so Megan was soon anchored in and brought me over the traverse. I figure since the other leader seemed to move faster than I was, we should let them pass us. That way when I'm shaking and crying on the 5.8 sections, at least I won't have an audience below.
So I yelled over to the leader of the Oregon that they may pass us, then Megan and I rested on the comfortable 2nd belay station and waited for the second of Oregon team finish climbing the first pitch. The sky was looking very cloudy today, and I occasionally hear rumbling in the distance. But it has been like this since we got here, the day before was the same weather, and we still climbed two very good routes.
The second of Oregon team got to the belay station, talked with her leader, and they decided to decline our offer to let them pass. Ok... well... it was a little unexpected, but I guess I will be in the front. Come to think of it, every time I've offered to let others pass me (three times so far), they have all decided not to. Anyway, so I racked up for the 3rd pitch, which was rated 5.8. The route was pretty similar to Great Arch (5.5) at Stone Mountain, NC. Learning from the Great Arch, instead of trying a strenuous layback on the corner crack the whole time (which was what I did on the Great Arch), I tried to smear more and just use the crack for balance and place gear. I found it not too difficult at all, and the crack ate up pro really well. Pretty soon I was at the 3rd belay station, and set up to bring Megan up. Megan climbed quickly (my first two passive pieces popped out which helped), except when she had to remove a nut that was tricky to clean. I didn't remember placing anything too hard to remove, but somehow this nut just didn't want to come out. With now two teams behind us, I almost told Megan to leave it, but she eventually got it out, and quickly came up to the anchor.
Megan cleaning the 3rd pitch, the team from Oregon waiting below
I racked up again to lead the 4th pitch, again rated 5.8. But it didn't feel very difficult, and I was again at the anchor without much trouble. Megan came up quickly, this time we didn't even have gear getting stuck.
Running it out on the 4th pitch
The next pitch was 5.7, so Megan decided to take the lead, which she did quickly and effortlessly. I started seconding, and decided to use only friction slab technique so I can get better at it. I was doing pretty well, only touching the crack to remove gear... until it started drizzling. But wait, "it's ok, it's only a drizzle, just like yesterday, right? It will stop soon and dry up quickly." Or so I thought. I got to the top of fifth pitch, the next pitch looked short, and the guidebook said it started out with easy 5.6 climbing to a tricky 5.8 exit. Well I've done the two 5.8 pitches, didn't find them very challenging, and we were just a short pitch away from the top. So I decided I should climb fast, get to the top before it got too wet. That was the worst decision I've ever made since I started climbing.
It was still just a small drizzle right now, but the rock was getting wet. What more was that the corner crack we've been following have sealed to a seam by now. I climbed up 10 feet, and was finally able to get a green alien in a pin scar. The 5.6 friction moves suddenly felt really hard when the rock was wet, and even though I was too far from the anchor, it felt as if it was impossible to reverse my moves back to the anchor. I still thought the rain would stop soon, and the rock would dry out, so I made another couple of shaky moves upward, and found another pin scar, which would only take another green alien. But I don't have another green alien! Looking up, I saw the route went on like this, with not much pro at all. I start to felt that I got myself in a jam. The rain was coming down harder now, I stood in one spot for a long time, couldn't back down, yet couldn't trust the friction moves to go up. There was another pin scar just barely out of my reach, if I could get to it, place another piece, then I maybe able to climb up to the low angle ramp that I see above the corner crack. But with only one green alien between me and the anchor, I was too scared to stretch too far and make the move to the next pin scar. I stood there for a while, cursing myself, and finally I kneeled down on one smear, reached my left hand below me, removed the green alien below, and replaced it in the pin scar at my chest level. Now with a slightly shorter fall if I were to peel, I felt slightly more confident in pulling the move. Balancing on a wet smear, pawing down with one hand, and maybe even touched the green alien's cable loop slightly, I was able to stretch and get my fingers into the next pin scar. I moved up to it, and promptly placed a yellow alien in it. Now having two pieces between me and the anchor, and with corner turning to the left and ease off in the angle, I made some increasingly easy moves, and got to a ramp before the crux exit. The ramp was big and low angle, there was even much dirt and pine needles collected in the corner. But the crack did not reappear, and there was no place for pro for 20 feet or so, until you get to the crux. About 5 feet below the crux was a slight bulge in the slab, with some dykes running through it. Normally this would be an easy move to pull over, but now the rock was totally wet, and the smooth crystal in the dyke seemed extra slippery. "F*CK!" I was really cursing myself now. I was 15 feet above my last pro, and looking at a pretty hard, unprotected move before my next gear placement, and I was just too scared. I was scared that if slip and fall, I may stop on the low angle ramp, or I may slide all the way back to the anchor. It would a low force fall on low angle slab, not going to be dangerous, but it would probably take a layer of skin of my hands. And after making these 5.6 friction moves to get up here, I didn't think I could have reversed them. So I was effectively stuck there, at least by my own fear, not by difficulty of the climb. I radioed down to Megan, "there is a unprotected section that's wet, I think I'm just going to hang out here for a while." Then I looked at the move above me, tried to move up... nope... too slippery, move back down. Looking down, rope disappearing around the low angle corner 10 feet below me, with the yellow alien probably another 5 feet below that. Don't really want to downclimb that either. There was another team to my right, climbing the last 5.6 pitch of some 5.9 route. Their leader started the last pitch after I did, but he moved quickly and confidently, while commenting to his second, "man, sure is wet up here!" Soon he would be at the top of their route, and I was still stuck half way up my pitch, drowning myself in my own curses. I saw an easy way out. I didn't want to take it, I really want to get over my own fears and finish this lead. Yet if I took the easy way out, then I don't have to worry about anything. My time was running out, I had to make a decision before these guys get to the top and walk away. Finally, I admitted defeat and reluctantly I yellled over to their second, "Hello, could you do me a big favor? Would you lower me a rope when you get to the top?" "Sure! We'll do that once I get to the top. I don't blame ya, it's getting really wet."
I felt totally relieved, yet very deflated at the same time. Could I have finished the last pitch? Maybe, but I really shouldn't have started it in the first place. I really wanted to get to the top, instead of bailing on the last pitch, and made a bad judgement call. I should learn from this experience.
The other team (from Victoria, Vancouver Island) got to the top, set up a quick anchor using the trees, and lowered me a rope with a figure 8 knot on a bight. I clipped into the knot with two locking biners, and proceeded to toprope the last half of the last pitch. Even on a toprope, pulling over the slight bulge on the slab felt tricky. The crystals were indeed very slippery. The crux exit was tricky as well, my feet slipped a few times due to wet shoes, I think I may have weighed the rope (or at least, the guys from Victoria kept me on a very tight belay), jammed and chimneyed up the final exit. Thanking the guys from the other team, I put Megan on belay on one of our double ropes (we worked it out so she untied from one of the doubles and left it for the team from Oregon to TR on). Megan made it up to the anchor shortly, and I belayed the leader of the Oregon team on our other double rope. She had a little bit of trouble pulling the crux exit, to save time she placed a green alien to pull on in aiding her past the exit. She then belayed her second up on their single rope (I wasn't sure if they had another rope to retreat with).
When everyone safely on the Broadway Ledge, we coiled ropes and started the scramble down. By now it was really pouring, and my thought of the rain would stop was long gone. An easy scramble down along a big crack on a sunny day, made me stop and asked to be put on belay. Megan was more confident in making down so she sent me down first. I tied in to one of the doubles, and placed a few pieces of gear in the crack, which was pretty much a little stream running with water. I belayed Megan down, and we followed the normal trail downwards. We stopped to check if the Oregon team would catch up with us, but they apparently decided to rappel down the 3rd class variation from the "waterfall", so we never saw them again.
The team from Oregon setting up to rappel the downclimb, notice the waterfall in the crack
We followed the trail through the woods, and down into the boulder fields below the Apron, where we quickly lost the trail. At least the road was close by so we knew which direction to go. After some heavy bushwhacking, we got back on the road, and walked back to our rental car.
The Apron right after we got down to the road
Compare to the Apron when we started in the morning
The rest of the day was spent eating lunch at Corner Cafe, checking the weather in Skaha, eating dinner at a sushi restaurant, and soaking in hot tubs at the rec center.
Shannon Falls, the day before and the day after our epic on Diedre
Typical on a day of climbing an easy, classic multipitch route, we woke up very early, drove out of the campground shortly after the gate opened at 7 am, and was the second vehicle at the Apron's parking lot. There were two multipitch routes I wanted to do, Banana Peel (5.7, 8 pitches) and Diedre (5.8, 6 pitches). Normally I'd lean toward the easier of the two, but from looking at the guidebook, Banana Peel wonders a bit on the slab, while Diedre goes pretty much straight up with bolted belays. Since the weather is a big unknown, and Megan just recovered from being sick, we decided to do Diedre in favor of the easy retreat.
We racked up in the parking lot (at which point other cars began to show up as well), and started the approach. Soon we came to a point where the trail went left, and a scramble up a slab went up and right. Megan thought we should take the slab, I thought the slab cut back right too early. While I was trying to match guidebook description with what I see in front of me, a woman (Michelle?) wearing a harness and carrying a rope caught up to us from behind. I asked, "do you know which way is to Diedre?" "Yeah, I'm going to the same area, follow me, I'll take you there." Thanking her, we quickly followed her up the slab (Megan was right). After some pretty steep but easy scrambling, we arrived at a comfy ledge where Diedre starts. Michelle's partner was already there waiting for her, they racked up and started a runout slab to our right. I was a bit out of breathe from the approach, and hungry (haven't really eaten breakfast at this point), so I took a breather and had a cliff bar.
Just as I was getting ready to start on the first pitch, another team of two female climbers show up. We found out later that they were from Oregon. "Gotta move fast so I don't cause a traffic jam!" I thought as I set off on the slab. The first pitch started with about 30 feet of 5.4 friction slab with no protection at all, until you get to a birch tree on a small ledge. The climbing was easy, low angle enough that even though I'm not good on friction slabs, I still thought I could lead it. The moves didn't get any hard the higher I climbed, but it definitely got headier. A couple of feet from the birch tree now, I looked down and thought, "man, it's a loooooong way to fall!" I got a little scared, shaky, and breathing heavily. "I knew you were scared cuz I could hear you doing your weird breathing thhing", Megan later told me. But anyway, I had my fear under control long enough to grab the flake right below the birch tree, and pulled myself up to the ledge. "Friction climb is my nemesis!" I yelled down to Megan while I took out a double-length sling to tie around the tree.
Now the scary part is over, I was looking at section of 5.7 to the anchor. Choosing the easiest path possible, I made my way slowly toward the anchor. After spending 10 minutes trying to figure out a move that wasn't even very hard, I finally made it to the anchors.
I brought Megan up, and she decided to lead the 2nd pitch, which started with a unprotected 5.6 traverse on a slab. That was fine by me! By now the Oregon team behind us have started on the first pitch, and the woman leading it was making much faster progress than I was. The 2nd pitch was pretty short, so Megan was soon anchored in and brought me over the traverse. I figure since the other leader seemed to move faster than I was, we should let them pass us. That way when I'm shaking and crying on the 5.8 sections, at least I won't have an audience below.
So I yelled over to the leader of the Oregon that they may pass us, then Megan and I rested on the comfortable 2nd belay station and waited for the second of Oregon team finish climbing the first pitch. The sky was looking very cloudy today, and I occasionally hear rumbling in the distance. But it has been like this since we got here, the day before was the same weather, and we still climbed two very good routes.
The second of Oregon team got to the belay station, talked with her leader, and they decided to decline our offer to let them pass. Ok... well... it was a little unexpected, but I guess I will be in the front. Come to think of it, every time I've offered to let others pass me (three times so far), they have all decided not to. Anyway, so I racked up for the 3rd pitch, which was rated 5.8. The route was pretty similar to Great Arch (5.5) at Stone Mountain, NC. Learning from the Great Arch, instead of trying a strenuous layback on the corner crack the whole time (which was what I did on the Great Arch), I tried to smear more and just use the crack for balance and place gear. I found it not too difficult at all, and the crack ate up pro really well. Pretty soon I was at the 3rd belay station, and set up to bring Megan up. Megan climbed quickly (my first two passive pieces popped out which helped), except when she had to remove a nut that was tricky to clean. I didn't remember placing anything too hard to remove, but somehow this nut just didn't want to come out. With now two teams behind us, I almost told Megan to leave it, but she eventually got it out, and quickly came up to the anchor.
I racked up again to lead the 4th pitch, again rated 5.8. But it didn't feel very difficult, and I was again at the anchor without much trouble. Megan came up quickly, this time we didn't even have gear getting stuck.
The next pitch was 5.7, so Megan decided to take the lead, which she did quickly and effortlessly. I started seconding, and decided to use only friction slab technique so I can get better at it. I was doing pretty well, only touching the crack to remove gear... until it started drizzling. But wait, "it's ok, it's only a drizzle, just like yesterday, right? It will stop soon and dry up quickly." Or so I thought. I got to the top of fifth pitch, the next pitch looked short, and the guidebook said it started out with easy 5.6 climbing to a tricky 5.8 exit. Well I've done the two 5.8 pitches, didn't find them very challenging, and we were just a short pitch away from the top. So I decided I should climb fast, get to the top before it got too wet. That was the worst decision I've ever made since I started climbing.
It was still just a small drizzle right now, but the rock was getting wet. What more was that the corner crack we've been following have sealed to a seam by now. I climbed up 10 feet, and was finally able to get a green alien in a pin scar. The 5.6 friction moves suddenly felt really hard when the rock was wet, and even though I was too far from the anchor, it felt as if it was impossible to reverse my moves back to the anchor. I still thought the rain would stop soon, and the rock would dry out, so I made another couple of shaky moves upward, and found another pin scar, which would only take another green alien. But I don't have another green alien! Looking up, I saw the route went on like this, with not much pro at all. I start to felt that I got myself in a jam. The rain was coming down harder now, I stood in one spot for a long time, couldn't back down, yet couldn't trust the friction moves to go up. There was another pin scar just barely out of my reach, if I could get to it, place another piece, then I maybe able to climb up to the low angle ramp that I see above the corner crack. But with only one green alien between me and the anchor, I was too scared to stretch too far and make the move to the next pin scar. I stood there for a while, cursing myself, and finally I kneeled down on one smear, reached my left hand below me, removed the green alien below, and replaced it in the pin scar at my chest level. Now with a slightly shorter fall if I were to peel, I felt slightly more confident in pulling the move. Balancing on a wet smear, pawing down with one hand, and maybe even touched the green alien's cable loop slightly, I was able to stretch and get my fingers into the next pin scar. I moved up to it, and promptly placed a yellow alien in it. Now having two pieces between me and the anchor, and with corner turning to the left and ease off in the angle, I made some increasingly easy moves, and got to a ramp before the crux exit. The ramp was big and low angle, there was even much dirt and pine needles collected in the corner. But the crack did not reappear, and there was no place for pro for 20 feet or so, until you get to the crux. About 5 feet below the crux was a slight bulge in the slab, with some dykes running through it. Normally this would be an easy move to pull over, but now the rock was totally wet, and the smooth crystal in the dyke seemed extra slippery. "F*CK!" I was really cursing myself now. I was 15 feet above my last pro, and looking at a pretty hard, unprotected move before my next gear placement, and I was just too scared. I was scared that if slip and fall, I may stop on the low angle ramp, or I may slide all the way back to the anchor. It would a low force fall on low angle slab, not going to be dangerous, but it would probably take a layer of skin of my hands. And after making these 5.6 friction moves to get up here, I didn't think I could have reversed them. So I was effectively stuck there, at least by my own fear, not by difficulty of the climb. I radioed down to Megan, "there is a unprotected section that's wet, I think I'm just going to hang out here for a while." Then I looked at the move above me, tried to move up... nope... too slippery, move back down. Looking down, rope disappearing around the low angle corner 10 feet below me, with the yellow alien probably another 5 feet below that. Don't really want to downclimb that either. There was another team to my right, climbing the last 5.6 pitch of some 5.9 route. Their leader started the last pitch after I did, but he moved quickly and confidently, while commenting to his second, "man, sure is wet up here!" Soon he would be at the top of their route, and I was still stuck half way up my pitch, drowning myself in my own curses. I saw an easy way out. I didn't want to take it, I really want to get over my own fears and finish this lead. Yet if I took the easy way out, then I don't have to worry about anything. My time was running out, I had to make a decision before these guys get to the top and walk away. Finally, I admitted defeat and reluctantly I yellled over to their second, "Hello, could you do me a big favor? Would you lower me a rope when you get to the top?" "Sure! We'll do that once I get to the top. I don't blame ya, it's getting really wet."
I felt totally relieved, yet very deflated at the same time. Could I have finished the last pitch? Maybe, but I really shouldn't have started it in the first place. I really wanted to get to the top, instead of bailing on the last pitch, and made a bad judgement call. I should learn from this experience.
The other team (from Victoria, Vancouver Island) got to the top, set up a quick anchor using the trees, and lowered me a rope with a figure 8 knot on a bight. I clipped into the knot with two locking biners, and proceeded to toprope the last half of the last pitch. Even on a toprope, pulling over the slight bulge on the slab felt tricky. The crystals were indeed very slippery. The crux exit was tricky as well, my feet slipped a few times due to wet shoes, I think I may have weighed the rope (or at least, the guys from Victoria kept me on a very tight belay), jammed and chimneyed up the final exit. Thanking the guys from the other team, I put Megan on belay on one of our double ropes (we worked it out so she untied from one of the doubles and left it for the team from Oregon to TR on). Megan made it up to the anchor shortly, and I belayed the leader of the Oregon team on our other double rope. She had a little bit of trouble pulling the crux exit, to save time she placed a green alien to pull on in aiding her past the exit. She then belayed her second up on their single rope (I wasn't sure if they had another rope to retreat with).
When everyone safely on the Broadway Ledge, we coiled ropes and started the scramble down. By now it was really pouring, and my thought of the rain would stop was long gone. An easy scramble down along a big crack on a sunny day, made me stop and asked to be put on belay. Megan was more confident in making down so she sent me down first. I tied in to one of the doubles, and placed a few pieces of gear in the crack, which was pretty much a little stream running with water. I belayed Megan down, and we followed the normal trail downwards. We stopped to check if the Oregon team would catch up with us, but they apparently decided to rappel down the 3rd class variation from the "waterfall", so we never saw them again.
We followed the trail through the woods, and down into the boulder fields below the Apron, where we quickly lost the trail. At least the road was close by so we knew which direction to go. After some heavy bushwhacking, we got back on the road, and walked back to our rental car.
Compare to the Apron when we started in the morning
The rest of the day was spent eating lunch at Corner Cafe, checking the weather in Skaha, eating dinner at a sushi restaurant, and soaking in hot tubs at the rec center.
posted by Boer @ 7/05/2005
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