Remembering Owen Griffing

It's been awhile since I've put up an entry, mostly because life seems to just move from one adventure to another.  Sitting down to blog is time consuming.  But today I need to.  Today I need to remember a friend who is no longer with us.  A friend who was called home much too early in my estimation.  Owen Griffing.  Even as I type his name I'm still in disbelief.

Can't be him.

I misread that Facebook post.

It's really Owen talking about his father or something.  It can't be him...we just emailed a week or two ago.

I see Brian's post with a picture and his condolences...and I realize the worst.  Shock.  Utter shock.  This isn't happening.  I talk to Dave and Kelly and all of us realize what's happened.  Whisky-Tango-Foxtrot.

I flashback to when I first met up with him at a Carderock Wednesday.  I had just gotten back into climbing after a few years off.  Life was changing for me and for the better.  The Mountaineering Section of the PATC became a great source of friendship for me and Owen was one of the first people I met.  Being about 20 years my senior he seemed more like a father figure type to me.  Not that I have a bad relationship with my father or anything (love my dad:-), but Owen was more like a father figure I could climb with and hang out with.  Maybe he was more like how I pictured my dad would've been had he been into climbing.  I dunno.  All I know is that we quickly became friends and we shared our climbing expertise.

Owen never had any designs on climbing really hard lines or anything.  He climbed to just have fun and enjoy the route.  He carried these enormous tri-cams, the ones that are so big that the head-plates are riveted together.  I remember the first time he broke them out.  We were headed up Conn's West at Seneca Rocks and I asked him what the hell they were for. "In case we run into any bears!  Duh!"

Another Seneca trip had us camping at Seneca Shadows.  Owen preferred to sleep in the bed of his truck that weekend while I was in my tent.  No worries...we still drank some Old Chub Scotch Ale together and had a great time.  If not for us camping and climbing there that weekend I wouldn't have met my good friend Kelly, who was camping next door with two female friends.  Owen had gone to sleep early and I invited myself to their campfire.  The next day Owen led Roy Gap Chimneys (in some disgusting humidity I'll never forget) and then called it a day.  He needed to get back home and I understood.  I linked up with Kelly and have been climbing with him ever since.

Numerous other adventures blur together.  Buzzard Rocks, Seneca, Great Falls...a rescue class we did at Marty Comiskey's gymnastics gym while it poured down rain outside. 

The best way to learn

Owen and me both smirking for the camera

And then I remember him talking about his hikes and exploring.  He talked about a couple places he had checked out looking for undiscovered climbing but had so far come up empty.  He told me about going out to Big Schloss and how much he loved the place.  That struck a chord.  Over the years I'd been out there a zillion times, both hiking and on my mountain bike.  I'd soloed some climbs out there and just loved the thrill of the exposed rock with its impressive views in all directions.  Anyone who loved that place as I did was a kindred spirit.

I told Owen about a little place outside Winchester that my friends own; a campground called The Cove.  I knew there was some rock there but I'd never really gone exploring.  What we found blew us away.  So much rock to be explored.  All the years I'd been right there by it and yet never found this little gem.  And so it was that day when I took Owen out there that we had that "eureka!" moment.  The look on his face when we first found The Easter Wall was priceless.  We kept walking, kept staring up at the cliff walls.  Shocked.  Dumbfounded.  The hardest thing to do that day was to stop looking and actually climb something.  We did what we could that day and then let some others in on the secret.  We called ourselves The Old Man's Climbing Society (OMCS).  We cut some trails and then cleared out other climbs.  Collectively we put in hundreds of hours of work.  Owen recognized the area as having great potential for working with new climbers, particularly new lead climbers who want to learn to place gear, build anchors and climb easy routes.  His lines "Barking Spiders" and "Weasels" were exactly what he wanted: fun, easy, and good for novices.  He'd follow me on a harder line sometimes only to look at me 3/4 of the way up and say, "I'm good.  It's beer-30."

Pondering how to move the block

Owen's "solution"

We worked hard at that place to get some trails in, clear out the brush, clean rock, bolt lines and establish climbs.  And afterwards we'd sit on the tailgate of his truck for a bit and shoot the shit.  Owen was never one to hang around too long though...too much to get done back home.  I understood and never game him any crap about it.  The past year though has seen all of us take a break from it.  I'll spare you the details but suffice it to say that it's a pay-for-access place.  Still, Owen saw the potential with me.  He realized that it's a great place to learn to climb with a lot of cool stuff (camping, swimming, etc) nearby.  He knew that there is so much more out there to be done and that we couldn't possibly keep this to ourselves...it just isn't right.  He often told me that people will decide if they want to pay the entrance fee or not, just let them decide.  He also impressed on me that we need the help developing it.  So we'll put it out there.  It's truly what I know Owen wanted for this place.  How do I know that for sure?  I'll tell ya...

I was climbing in Boulder Canyon, Colorado last week...the day Owen left us.  For absolutely no reason at all the names of those climbs Owen put up at The Cove came into my head.  I was laughing at the names, remembering when and how he came up with them.  The thoughts stuck with me all day and I kept coming back to it.  But for the life of me I couldn't figure out why I was thinking about them.  Only later did I realize what that was all about.  When I later realized he was gone, I knew it had been him.  His goodbye.  Getting the last laugh on me and I believe telling me to revisit The Cove, keep pushing it and not to let all our hard work fade away.  Let others enjoy the beauty of the place we "found" and explore it for themselves.

He was the real Weasel...with his Barking Spiders.  The Old Man's Climbing Society is down one member, but we're not done there.  Mountain Project, here we come.  And yes Owen, we'll certainly name a new route, "Pot Smoking Hippies".

Rest in Peace my friend...see you 'round that crag in the sky.

 

Climbing Table Mountain in South Africa

South Africa.   When most people from the States hear "Africa" they automatically think lions, tigers, elephants, savannah, safari, jungle, etc.  However, Cape Town, South Africa is quite different from all that.  Ok there are baboons.  But do not feed them!  I'm told that in the summer Cape Town is generally warm and dry.  Right now, in winter, it is anything but warm and dry.  Having spent a good deal of time in Scotland over the years I feel confident saying that Cape Town's weather feels closer to Scotland's.

Overshadowing Cape Town is the very impressive Table Mountain.  The upper part of the mountain where we climbed consists of quartizitic sandstone; it is very similar to the rock at Seneca Rocks and the Shawangunks.  I will only bore you with one excerpt from the wikipedia page that pretty much sums up this unique mountain:

"The mountain's vegetation types form part of the Cape Floral Region protected areas.  These protected areas are a World Heritage Site, and an estimated 2,200 species of plants are confide to Table Mountain - more than exist in the whole of the United Kingdom.  Many of these species, including a great many types of proteas, are endemic to the mountain and can be found nowhere else."

For more on Table Mountain, check out the Wikipedia page here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Table_Mountain

Back to the story....last week the weather cleared and was beautiful.  Blue skies and warm sunshine dominated the days. You could see Table Mountain with perfect clarity each day.  I got in touch with a local guide and set up a day of climbing for Saturday.  My fingers were crossed that the weather would hold.  Well, it sorta did.

Ross Suter was my guide (http://www.highadventure.co.za).  He came highly recommended from my friend Jim back home.  I was so excited Friday night that admittedly I didn't get as much sleep that night as I'd have liked.  Oh well.  Ross picked me up at my hotel at 7:45am and we were on our way.

We drove up to the lower Table Mountain Cableway station, parked and headed up the trail.  The morning was overcast and cool.  I was hopeful that maybe the clouds would lift a bit and we would have a spot of sunshine; that was wishful thinking and I pretty much knew it.

To get you oriented, the Cableway basically goes up over an area called India Ravine.  Our first climb was on the cliffs to the right side of India Ravine.  The rest of our day was spent linking up three separate routes to ascend all the way to the Upper Cableway Station.  The photo below should help.  Obviously I snagged this off the net and added my text...the weather was the exact opposite of that in the photo below.

The first climb was Bombay Duck.  This was a good route to assess my skills and to get familiar with belaying Ross on double ropes (half ropes).  I don't typically climb with doubles, but I do own a set now and would like to use them a bit more.  The route was a bit wet, especially in the crux areas.  Some well placed hand jams in a wet horizontal crack and some good footwork saw me through and got me warmed up.  We quickly rapped back down and headed on over to the main event...climbing to the top of Table Mountain.

Ross nearing the overhang to his right.

For this portion of the climbing both of us would need to carry our packs as we wouldn't be coming back this way.  The added weight always adds an interesting challenge to the climb as the pack typically throws your usual balance a bit off.  Undeterred by this, Ross started up Fader's Frontal.  At an overhang he had a bit of trouble as the rock was fairly wet in this crux section.  After a few false starts he pulled the moves and continued up.  When I reached this section I found myself stemming my right foot out with everything I had, praying it wouldn't slip off on the wet rock.  A few hand jams and crimps later had me up and through and then on my way to meet up with Ross.

Nearing the top I had just pulled out cam that Ross had placed when my foot slipped on a lichen-covered edge.  It surprised the heck out of me and somehow I dropped the cam.  Unbelievable and humbling.  Dropping gear is just not cool and I was rather upset with myself...even though I couldn't really figure out how it happened.  At least I was able to see just where it landed and Ross was able to retrieve it the next day.

Our last view of civilization for awhile.

The higher we climbed the further we progressed into a cloud.  Seriously.  It wasn't raining but there was so much moisture in the air that when the wind would blow, everything would have obvious condensation on it.  Gear, clothes, rock...it didn't matter.  Everything was wet.  Chalk for climbing? Pfff...put it away and forget about it.  As we moved on to the next climb I had to make sure I kept up with Ross for fear of losing my way in the mists as we bouldered up, over and around the jungle gym of blocks on the top of this buttress.

 
Somehow or other we made it up the middle pitches of Arrow Route.  After a quick time check we decided to hike up and around to a route called Jacob's Ladder.  At this point I honestly would've been fine with calling it a day and heading back.  Not that I didn't want to summit but I was just happy that I had been able to climb on Table Mountain in South Africa.  However, up until this point I'd been through much worse in Scotland.  We endured some pretty harsh conditions there at times (offset by many more beautiful days though) so I felt pretty well prepared for wet and cold....I wasn't anticipating the wind.

Luckily we would be rappelling back down off the route to about where we started.  That meant we didn't need to climb with our packs.  To start the route Ross climbed a short wall and then traversed about 20 meters or so the left along a really big ledge.  I followed up to the base of a big overhanging corner.  The mist here was so thick I had actually had a tough time seeing Ross once he was about 20 ft up the face.

Ross heading up the first, easy corner.

My view at the start of Jacob's Ladder...Misty Mountains indeed!

Ross on Pitch 1 of Jacob's Ladder heading up and around the corner.

As I followed the first pitch I was quite happy that I had figured out I could stuff my feet with my sock on into my climbing shoes.  Normally I don't wear socks but the cold and the wet forced me to try something new.  I sacrificed some sensitivity for warmth...it was a good choice.

I moved up the first section to below the main overhang and traversed left.  Up until this point the rock was "relatively" damp...not wet per se...damp.  Once I turned the corner and the wind started hitting me full blast the climb took on a whole new dimension.  The climbing in and of itself was brilliant.  The rock was clean and the moves were fun and challenging.  But it was wet and cold and the higher I climbed the more it seemed the wind was trying to knock me off the rock.  Finally, I could see Ross up and to the right and I figured my way to the belay.

This was a hanging belay like no other.  Steep face.  Small footholds to rest on.  Nothing but mist below me.  Nothing but mist behind me, above me and up the rest of the route.  I had no idea how far off the deck we were.  It could've been 50 or 500 ft.  Interesting that I found not knowing a bit more difficult to deal with.  Of course the gusting wind might've had something to do with that.

Everybody look right!

Everybody look left!

As Ross traversed out right to start the final pitch I just focused on feeding out rope.  Once he was out of my sight I would feel better the faster the rope went out went from me.  The wind would blow and I would huddle in closer to myself, ducking my nose inside the brim of my jacket to keep a bit warmer.  I adjusted my stance a few times just to get blood flowing back into my legs.  Finally, I hear a bellowing voice on the wind, "OFF BELAY!!!"  Or at least I was pretty sure that's what I heard.  Obviously there were no other idiots up here climbing so it really only could be Ross.  I quickly took him off belay, yelled up to him and got ready to climb.

As I traversed to the right I used a bit of chalk to try to dry my hands.  Obviously I had forgotten how useless an effort this would be.  I was reminded to close up the chalk bag when my right hand reached out for next hold and hit a nice puddle.  Continuing up and out, the wind continued to howl and again nearly blew me off the rock.  The pitch was steep but the holds were positive.  I moved up through lots of nice horizontals until I reached a rather blank section.  I was cold, my hands were numb and the wind at this point was no longer "gusting", it was just relentless.  I quickly realized that pausing to think through moves was not going to work.  I had to simply climb on instinct and trust the flow of my intuition.  To my pleasant surprise, this worked quite well.  And as I pulled up the final bit I saw Ross with a big smile on his face.  With his big, bushy beard and imposing figure he looked like some crazy Norse god of the mountain or something.  We high-fived and shook hands.  A short scramble more and were at the top, right where tourists would normally disembark from the cable cars.

Ross at the top of the last pitch.

At the upper cableway station.

We snapped a few quick photos and then headed off to start the descent.  The first rappel was short and I went down first, the wind whipping the slack rope below me far off to my right.  The second rappel was a double-rope and under normal circumstances would've been fantastic.  After maybe 15 ft of descent I dropped past an overhang and descended a long section of free-hanging space.  The wet ropes were squeegeed through my belay device creating a nice fountain of water in my lap.  Lovely.

After hitting the ground we packed up, threw the headlamps on and started the long walk-off that took us at least an hour.  Cold, wet and tired we trudged on with good conversation about climbing ethics, new routing, and how to continue the spirit of this kind of climbing to new trad climbers.  Nearing the lower cableway station we finally emerged from the cloud and could see the city lit up below us.

Cape Town

On the journey back we both remarked that it was amazing how different everything was down in town.  It was warm and dry.  Everyone had surely gone about their day and would just have no idea of the things that transpired for us on the mountain.  That's the beauty of an experience like that.  Most people would not have gone out that day.  I certainly won't always climb on those "iffy" kind of days.   But when I do, I know it'll always be something incredibly unique.  This was a day that will make me cherish the warm, sunny and dry days on the rock.  Yet at the same time, it challenged us both in unique ways and we will never forget it.   Above all else, I will always remember that I was still smiling when we reached the top.

Ross and me back in Cape Town...a world apart from Table Mountain.

It's Not the Climbing Gym, it's the Climber

It's been awhile since I've posted anything.  What better way to come back to this blog than by taking a stab at a controversial issue.  Here we go!

There's been a lot of chatter in the climbing community lately about gym climbers, mentorship, climbers who are just downright assholes, etc.  This entry is my $.02 on the issue and hopefully contains some real solutions we can implement.  As the Chairman of the Mountaineering Section of the PATC I feel that we can make a real difference in our area and have a very positive influence in the climbing community as we try to figure out how to best mentor new climbers and help them learn to deeply respect and love these places.

My own personal experience from a few years back is one that I'm sure many can relate their own story to.  I was at the New River Gorge climbing with a couple friends at the Ritz Cracker area on Fern Buttress.  As we started racking up I heard music coming from just down the crag.  I looked that way in horror as I see some climbers preparing to do a route with an iPod or something hooked up to portable speakers.  I stood there dumbfounded, with half a mind to walk down there and smash the damn thing when my friend Josh just looks at me and says, "meh...that's craggin' at the New."  "No, that's being an inconsiderate asshole is what that is", I responded.

The exchange between Josh and I stunned me for a second.  Here was a guy of the younger crowd (probably 10 years younger than me...I'm 36 as of this writing) who could've cared less that this douchebag down the crag was breaking the tranquil silence of the area.  I think I was almost as upset with him and his lack of outrage as I was at the offending party.  However, age really has nothing to do with it.  Attitude does.  And so does training, education and mentoring.

Let's step back for a sec.  Back in the day (which was a Wednesday in case you're wondering...always a Wednesday) people who got into climbing were already pretty outdoorsy people.  Most came to it through other outdoor interactions, be that through local recreation clubs, family, friends, Scouting, NOLS, Outward Bound, etc.  These people already had a solid foundation of being mentored by others who cared about the outdoors.  These early climbers wanted to be outside in the quiet peace of their natural surroundings and test themselves against the massive stone walls.  They learned outdoors and they pushed their limits outdoors.  They put in countless hours developing crags and building trails.  Through these activities they learned to love the beauty of the natural cliff setting.

Fast forward to the present day and look at all the ways that people can be introduced to climbing.  People that have no outdoors experience whatsoever can and do get into climbing.  Not just at a gym either.  My climbing club does a weekly event for people to come out and climb with us and find out about the club (Carderock Wednesdays...bring your own personal climbing gear).  Anyone can show up at our event and we'll work with them (as long as you sign a waiver!).  At gyms, routes are laid out in color-coded holds or with tape, tunes are blaring all day long, people yell and shout, etc.  People line up and pay to go to these places.  So the bottom line is that you really can't blame gyms.  But you can blame the ignorant and/or disrespectful individual who doesn't stop and think about why people climb outside and has no sense of history or respect for the crags. 

Everyone seems to accept that this issue is a problem.  I think it's a problem worth addressing and doing our best to combat.  I think that the best way forward for the climbing community is to engage the issue from multiple sides.  There isn't a one-size-fits-all solution.  I want to emphasize that I think it really is on the individual climber to make choices about their behavior and to seek out good qualified instruction.  At the same time, it's the responsibility of the businesses (gyms, outdoor programs through climbing shops like REI, guide services, etc) that teach outdoor climbing and transition programs such as gym to crag to instruct their clients in what is and is not acceptable behavior at the crag.  With that said, here are my thoughts:

To the new climber learning at the gym and hopefully outdoors:  Seek out good mentors.  Get some good basic instruction or maybe even sign up for some of the courses that gyms offer.  But overall, partner up with a couple of good mentors...they will usually (but not always) be older than you.  Get outside and climb early and often as you learn.  Talk to the old timers and learn about the climbing history in your area.

To the experienced climber that is aware of the issue:  Be humble and patient.  Find someone or a couple of "someones" to mentor.  It is always good to work with less experienced climbers on the fundamentals as this helps to reinforce the concepts in your mind and increases your speed.  If you don't want to mentor others that much, remember that you can direct inexperienced climbers to professional guide services.  At the very least, set a good example of good crag behavior and practices.


To the gym owners and instructors: Develop good courses for your clients that incorporate Leave No Trace principles.  Your clients are incredibly impressionable...lead by example.  Utilize materials like this flyer (also posted below) from Access Fund to help with your gym-to-crag transition courses.  Understand that there are other guide services out there and that your reputation depends on how your clients are perceived after they leave your classes and are out there climbing.  Finally, frankly assess your business' abilities and resources; it is much better for you and the community if you focus on what you do well and refer clients to other services where you are not as experienced...this can lead to a great partnership with other services that live and breathe outdoor climbing.

To the climber (experienced or not) who is coming from the gym and may not understand what all the fuss is about:  Take a deep breath and look around a little bit.  Check in with yourself and your ego.  Think about why you're outside climbing...and why others might be outside climbing.  It's not just to test themselves against the rock out there...it's to be outside in the peace and tranquility of nature.  When I climb hard I am focused and I generally want to hear nothing.  The occasional encouragement from my partner is welcome...most of the time.  But really, I just want the quiet.  Your music and loud party atmosphere is the ultimate annoyance and disturbance of that tranquility.  If you insist on carrying on with it, don't be surprised if I confront you about it. 


Why is all of this important to the climbing community?  Well, on the one hand it's an issue of respect for your fellow climbers and the crag in general.  On the other hand, it's an access issue.  The Access Fund has been working hard to get the word out to people about what is and isn't acceptable behavior at the crag.  This is at what I'd call the "macro-level".  It's a large-scale, nationwide effort.  The AF knows damn well that land managers and land owners keep an eye on their property and what goes on there.  They know that many of these land managers/owners aren't climbers and don't necessarily understand climbing....but these managers/owners do know what a party atmosphere is...know what a trashed crag looks like...and they know how to put a POSTED sign on their property too.  Access can be revoked and crags can be closed if things start getting ugly.

Anyone can be a climber.  In my mind, a lot of this issue will change when one stops thinking of themselves as just a climber, a user, a taker...and starts seeing themselves as a giver, a caretaker, a responsible climber or a steward of the crag.  To that end, I wholeheartedly encourage everyone to find some time to give back to your crags.  Put in some sweat equity and find out just what it means to help maintain that access and keep the place clean.  Look at any developed crag out there.  Someone else came along before you and put in the trails, cut the brush, hacked out poison ivy, dealt with bees and chiggers, scraped off lichen, pried off loose blocks, cleaned out dirty cracks and on and on.  Consider all that.  Respect that.  Put in some time to prove to yourself that you're not just a climber.  I think in this way more of us will have a better understanding of this game of climbing we play and will have learn to love our crags much more intimately...because we'll feel that in our own way we own it.  And when we do that, just being there and being present in the quiet moment is enough.

Scotland Trip Video Finally Hits YouTube

So after many months of forgetting, stalling, distractions and whatever else, I finally got around to putting the final touches on the video of our trip last year to Scotland.  If you saw it at the Chili Cookoff last fall at Seneca Rocks, the main difference is that I added sub-titles to the videos...which took a lot longer than planned, but was necessary.

Without further adieu, here is the video (hopefully YouTube doesn't take it down anytime soon...if it doesn't load for you, it might be an issue with YouTube and copyrights in your country).  Enjoy!

http://youtu.be/JFuN-bTKjxc


There's so much to tell and so many little stories about this, that and the other thing that happened in the course of this amazing adventure; hopefully I will pull some of those out and blog about them now and then.

It still amazes me to watch a month long trip get squeezed down to 27 minutes and 14 seconds.  As I watch it, the memories hit me and I can't help but smile and think of how I will always be grateful to Alan for being a wonderful friend on a fantastic adventure.  We really worked well as team and just figured out ways to make things happen every day beyond just the climbing.  The mundane things like cooking, food shopping, finding a campsite and making camp/taking down camp.  I'll never forget the times I was driving and Alan was constantly shoving more cheese and sliced meat at me before we got to our next crag.  We had to have lunch!  All these things were accomplished quickly and orderly and made the actual climbing that much more enjoyable.

Anyway, in case you're wondering, here are the crags we climbed (in order):

Craig-a-Barns, Dunkeld
Weem Hill Crag, Weem
Ardverikie Wall, Binnein Shuas (middle-of-nowhere off the A-86, east of Spean Bridge)
Aladdin's Buttress, Cairn Gorm (northern Cairngorms, southeast of Aviemore)
Erraid, Isle of Mull
Coire Laggan (Cioch), Isle of Skye (near Glenbrittle)
Kilt Rock, Isle of Skye (near Staffin)
Old Man of Hoy, Isle of Hoy, Orkney Islands
Huntly's Cave, north of Grantown-on-Spey
Pass of Ballater, Ballater
Creag an Dubh Loch, southwest of Ballater in the Southern Cairngorms
Ben Nevis, Fort William

Update: Nut tool post re-visited

Many of you may remember my post from last year when I picked up a new nut tool.  If not, here's the link: http://achockandahardplace.blogspot.com/2013/07/a-new-nut-tool.html

I completely forgot to update this story...so I'm doing it now.

Turns out that a few weeks after acquiring the new (to me anyway) Metolius nut tool and prior to leaving for Scotland, I stopped in to Mountain Trails in Winchester, VA.  Alan was in the shop while he was home and I'd ordered some stuff for our trip that I was picking up.  I told him the story about the new nut tool I'd picked up and he had a bit of interesting news for me.  He wasn't sure he wanted to tell me what he had since I had gone through such a rig-a-more-ole getting the Metolius tool.  But as it so happened, I convinced him to tell me what was up.  Turns out he had a brand new Grivel nut tool sitting there behind the counter.  I don't remember exactly how it came to be there because I don't think it was actually part of the store inventory.  Hell I don't even know if I paid him anything for it.  Regardless, he offered it to me along with a small keychain-type biner and some 3mil cord.  How could I possibly have said no?

To complete the circle, a week or so later I presented a very happy Simone with her "new" Metolius nut tool in exchange for a whopping $10.  So in the end, it was win-win situation all around.  My new tool made the trip to Scotland, saw a great deal of action the rest of the season and hopefully will continue in that regard for many more years to come.

My old and new nut tools

A Book Review of Sorts - Tears of the Dawn

I begin this entry by admitting that I haven’t read all that many books on others climbing adventures.  However, I do read a lot in general and as many of you know, I have a love for Scotland and most things Scottish.  It has something to do with a love for the land, the people and the beautiful rugged terrain of the country.  I did an independent study class in Scottish History in college and I've visited numerous times.  It reminds me a lot of the hills and valleys in Virginia and West Virginia and that’s home.  So with that in mind I decided I might as well do a blog entry doing a brief overview/review of Jules Lines’ new book, Tears of the Dawn.

First, a little background...

Many of you are likely asking, “who?” Jules Lines is without a doubt Scotland’s most accomplished free solo climber and probably one of the best climbers you’ve never heard of.  The book recounts his various adventures and misadventures of over three decades of extreme climbing.  From completing the ascent of all 277 Munros before finishing school (a Munro is a mountain in Scotland over 3000 ft.) to the continuing challenges of today.  His latest completed free solo project is “Hold Fast, Hold True”, a virtually blank, off-vertical wall in Glen Nevis, Scotland that comes in at about 5.14a (E9/10 7a).

I had the good fortune to meet Jules when Alan Goldbetter and I were climbing in Scotland at Creag an Dubh Loch in the Southern Cairngorms in September of 2013.  For the vast majority of our trip Alan and I didn’t see another soul while we were climbing.  In fact, Jules and his two friends were the first climbers we’d seen in a few days.  Prior to that we’d met only about ten other climbers over the previous two-plus weeks.  This isn’t because Scotland doesn’t have much climbing…Scotland has tons of climbing, it’s just that the weather conditions can make it difficult to climb there.  The bottom line is that it takes a certain type of grittiness to climb in Scotland and Lines has been doing it all his life.  I have the utmost respect for him and what he’s accomplished, all the while never seeking any glory, sponsorship or accolades.  He’s in it for the same reasons most of us “regular climbers” are: in one way or another it’s just fun and is addictive as hell.

Prior to meeting him I’d seen his name and picture in the Scotland guidebooks on numerous first ascents, especially on the sea cliffs at Erraid off the coast of the Isle of Mull and some extremely hard lines in the Cairngorms and Glen Nevis.  Still, neither Alan or I recognized him when we headed up to the Dubh Loch and passed through their small camp at the head of the Loch.  We quickly passed by and just said some hellos.  We were on our way to climb Cyclops...a fairly long route…and it was already nearly mid-day.  I found the whole thing rather amusing how Alan and I figured he was “somebody”.  When we walked through the next day on our way to climb The Mousetrap we stopped and chatted at length and introductions were made.  I remember a sheepish, knowing grin from him when I asked if his last name was Lines.  It was that kind of “aw shit, someone knows me and damn, they’re bloody Yanks” kind of look.  But as I read his book, it confirmed my impressions from that meeting.  He climbs for himself and doesn’t worry about what others think.  I’ve stayed in touch with him and I truly hope he finds a way to accept my invite to help him out if he wants to climb in the eastern US where I live.  Admittedly there were a number of times while reading the book when I said, “damn, he’s got to come here and climb at ‘fill in the blank’” (Seneca Rocks and the New River Gorge, both in WV; the Gunks in NY; Stone Mtn in NC, etc).

Creag an Dubh Loch

Now back to our regularly scheduled book discussion… 

Tears of the Dawn isn’t just about climbing.  It’s a progressive story that has you follow Lines’ years of free soloing, roped climbing, drilling the occasional bolt, working on oil derricks, paragliding, BASE jumping, a number of close calls and injuries and a good dose of the inner workings of his psyche that has driven him over the years.  It’s a beautiful insight into the mind of a hard-climbing free soloist and you get to witness the shift in what drives him from one of adrenalin to one of finding an inner peace and solace in climbing and free soloing.  All of this is something you rarely read about.  

What really keeps it so interesting are the anecdotal side-stories; the little vignettes that really tie everything together and keep you wanting to know more.  I felt like I was sitting down and a friend was reading this story to me, recalling his random adventures here and there.  I ended up reading it in sessions so that I could contemplate each recollection; otherwise it would have seemed overwhelming.  The entire book is well laid out and tied together as he begins with his visit to Yosemite, CA and ends with other adventures on that same trip to the Western US.  

If the book has one fault (I have to be critical in some way…otherwise what kind of review is this right?) it’s that Lines sometimes doesn’t give you enough of the story or at least not as much as you want or sometimes expect.  I remember thinking a number of times, “well how did that work out exactly?”; “how did he get from this to that?”; or “what else happened!”  Granted, the level of detail in his recollections is impressive.  But I know I could come up with a list of questions for him that would help bring more details to light. Perhaps he doesn't have those details or maybe it’s just his style and he doesn’t want to give you every bit of information; maybe he wants to leave you wanting more.  Whatever the case, it’s not enough to detract from the great writing quality of the book.

Overall it’s a wonderful read for climbers and non-climbers alike.  Some US climbers might have to look up some of the British terminology here and there, but that just makes you expand your vocabulary right?  The book is available through two online shops: Dave Macleod’s site (www.davemacleod.com) or the publisher, www.shelterstone.co.uk.  At 288 pages and hardback with some nice color photos in the middle, it's a nice pick-up.  I hope some of you out there give it a go and see what the fuss is all about…you won’t regret it!

My copy, back when I received it around Christmas

Climbing at the Peace Cave

As yet another snowstorm churns its way up the east coast of the US I once again find myself watching it from a distance, this time from the warm, tropical confines of Malaysia.  The last time this happened was during the "Snowmeggedon" storm back in 2010.  I love the snow and I love to ski.  But I'm not there so I have to make the best of where I am.  Hopefully, those of you that are "enduring" that storm can find some fun things to do in the white fluffy stuff.

Turning to my time here…I'm here for work.  So that really means that by the time we get back each evening I'm usually pretty beat.  But from the beginning of this trip I was bugging my boss here and there about a day off so I could go climbing.  I'd found a local guide service and read up on the cliffs at Batu Caves.  Finally I got my wish and was able to arrange things for this past Wednesday. Since we have to stick to a "two-deep" rule, my friend Jeremy from our group agreed to come along.  He said he'd climbed a good bit about 5 years back or so.  I honestly didn't care.  I thought that as long as he knew how to belay and climb a bit we'd have a great time.

At 0800 at our hotel we met up with one of our drivers and headed out to northern Kuala Lumpur (KL).  Traffic in this city is just insane.  There are motorbikes and scooters everywhere.  They weave in and out of traffic, seemingly obeying their own set of rules.  On the way out of town I marveled at the fact that there weren't zillions of accidents.

After some searching around for the address, we met up with Haziq at Verticale.  He has a shop upstairs in a commercial building that doesn't look like much from the outside but inside it's a surprisingly nice place.  Jeremy and I filled out some forms, paid some money (I think it was 150 RHM each…a little over $45) and helped Haziq with gear (I had actually brought my own harness, shoes and chalkbag but Jeremy needed stuff).  We spoke briefly about our skills and how we were going to set things up.  To my incredible surprise, Haziq had arranged to have another of his guides out there with us so that both of us could lead climb.  At this point, I was incredibly stoked.

We hopped in the cars and followed Haziq over to the Gua Damai Wall at Batu Caves.  Gua Damai translates to "Peace Cave".  We met up with Faiz and talked routes while gearing up.  The vast majority of climbs there are bolted sport routes though there are a few trad lines.  I really didn't care.  I just wanted to climb something, anything.  Haziq pointed us to two lines fairly close to each other that he thought would be good for us to warm up on.  I started up Redemption Song.

Gua Damai Wall at Batu Caves

My first moves off the ground were tentative.  My brain could see exactly where to go, but my body was taking its time catching up.  Ten feet or so up I clipped the first bolt.  The familiar feelings and movements came easily after that and I sauntered up the line to just below an overhang.  From a nice stance I was able to work out the moves and then launch into it, fully committed and cruising.

As I lowered off I looked over the rock again.  The limestone there is mostly sharp and abrasive; more so than anywhere else I've ever climbed.  But…at a certain height it changes dramatically and becomes a smooth worn layer of much denser limestone.  A bit higher above that it changes back to the sharp stuff.  But in the "smooth layer" you're no longer using crimps and pinches, but grabbing at small blocks, slapping on slopers or just finding as much purchase as you can for your fingers.  The contrast was obvious and very interesting.  As the climbing got harder through the day, my focus and concentration on finding the holds and reading the moves became increasingly important.

After lowering, we switched routes and I just remember having a good, fun time on Good Onion.  I cleaned the draws this time and quickly lowered, ready for the next challenge.  Haziq figured as much and sent me up Lightning Grip.  This was where I really first encountered the interesting difficulties of the change in the rock type I mentioned.  At about 1/2 height I reached an area of smooth limestone.  Haziq shouted to me that I needed to pull out left around a corner and out onto the face.  But the polished limestone was complicating matters.  As I committed to the moves out left I knew I needed to get my feet higher.  I tried to move but I was tentative with my footwork.  I cursed myself at my carelessness with my feet but I knew it wasn't happening and off I went on short ride.  With that knowledge in mind on my second attempt, I did much better with my footwork and cranked through the moves to a good stance before pulling my way up to the anchors on some nice two and three-finger pockets and slots.

Feeling in the groove, I jumped on the route that had shut Jeremy down…Monsoon.  And for someone who hasn't climbed in 5 years or so, he hung the draws a good long way up!  I could hear him below me as I climbed, "just wait till you hit the crux man!"  I finally reached it.  And surprisingly, I looked at it and knew exactly what to do.  It was an odd feeling…like I'd almost seen this sequence before somewhere else.  That feeling of being on autopilot through a sequence just took over...

A small ramp with a crack along the back edge slants up and away left from me.  Fingers in the polished crack, feet smearing on the face outside.  Make a few hard moves up, hand over hand.  Swing the right foot up, then push down with the left hand, crank with the right foot and reach high for a two-finger pocket with the right hand… sheer bliss.

Just below the crux on Monsoon

I lowered off feeling grateful for the experience and thrilled with the day so far.  I took a break and Jeremy told me that he was done but I could climb whatever I wanted.  We looked over a particular route that had been drawing my attention earlier.  The start was obviously a committing boulder problem over top of a deep ditch with a very bad landing.  I munched on an apple and put down copious amounts of water as I talked with Haziq about routes.  He mentioned he could set me on some more difficult routes but I kinda had my mind set on doing something multi-pitch.  I wanted to get up high on this place.  Haziq and I had talked earlier about some of the climbs going up 2 or 3 pitches so I asked him if it was possible for me to do this thing with the tough start and then link it to something else for a 2nd and 3rd pitch.  Sure thing.  But instead of Haziq coming with me, he asked Faiz to go.

The lower sequence came together just as I suspected.  The start was committing, but I quickly got my left hand into a nice, deep 3-finger pocket.  Above that was a small pocket for the right hand but it was more than enough to allow me to rock up my left hand and crossover the right hand to a jug.  A few more moves and I was cruising up the line and just enjoying each new challenge.  The top of the first pitch had an interesting exit through some overhanging rock but it wasn't as difficult as I initially expected.

High on the first pitch of TJ

After Faiz came up we had to negotiate an interesting traverse into a small cave in order to link up with Redemption Song and the start of its 2nd pitch.  Faiz found a sweet belay seat for the 2nd pitch and I started up into the smooth limestone.  I figured my way up on some slopers and a pinch on a block before finally getting a nice stance and a look at the rest of the pitch…I had yet to clip a bolt so I was looking around for that as well.  Once I found the line, it was a sustained sequence of moves on small pockets and crimps to a nice rest.  I let out a loud shout after pulling through to the rest.  Here I thought I was done with the difficulties…nope…no such luck.  I looked up and right.  The wall remained steep and committing.  Once more into the breach, I stabbed my right foot into a nice stemming position.  From here I was able to read the moves and make my way up to a stance of sorts at the end of the pitch.  The anchor was at a logical horizontal break but I was going to be in a true hanging belay for awhile.

Stemming it out on pitch 2 of Redemption Song

Prior to starting the route I had told Faiz that I wanted to lead pitch 1 and pitch 2.  I just didn't know if I was really up for a third and harder pitch at the end of it all.  But as I belayed Faiz up to the 2nd pitch anchor, I studied the holds above starting into the 3rd pitch.  The line called to me like a Siren's Song and by the time Faiz got there my mind was set...I knew I was climbing again.

Belaying Faiz up pitch 2 of Redemption Song

Starting the 3rd pitch was tough if for no other reason than I had to climb over Faiz on my left in order to actually start climbing the route.  Fortunately he was able to clip the lead rope into a threaded sling out further left.  A difficult sequence of crimps/pinches and small pockets led to a stance with a thin, right leaning crack.  I clipped the bolt but I could feel my strength waning fast.  I tried to adjust my hand in a slot but as I pulled up slack with my left hand to clip the rope I grabbed the dogbone of the quickdraw with my right hand without even really thinking about it.  I got the rope clipped in the quickdraw but I knew I was about to fall.  I really didn't want to repeat the tough sequence so I shouted, "take!"  Faiz thought I might've been done, but there was no way I wasn't finishing the pitch.  And then one of the most unique things I've ever had happen while climbing occurred.  As I stepped back onto the rock, the afternoon Call to Prayers starting ringing out from the nearby mosque.  It was incredibly surreal.  The sounds echoed off the cliff walls as I climbed and the reverberating sound mixed with the next wave.  The climbing was still difficult and sustained for another 30 feet or so but then finally backed off and I clambered up to an anchor.  I took my time and looked around up there as the call from the mosque wound down.  I thought about how lucky I was to be there and thanked God for the experience…for everything to have just come together nicely for me to be there in that moment.

Finishing up pitch 3 of Redemption Song

I finally lowered off and cleaned the route.  Faiz and I made two rappels to the ground and I had an ear-to-ear grin on my face.  Another great day climbing in a fantastic location with some great people…what could be better than that?

Me with Faiz after a great day on the rock in Malaysia