Sykesville sessions (and a day at Coopers)

It's the last weekend of what is probably the best school year I can remember.  While I'll be sad to be away from my students, I was excited when I looked at the calendar and realized just two weeks from now I'll be in Colorado.  Spring has flown by!

A couple weeks back Emily and I went out to West Virginia for a fun day at Coopers and her first trip to Pies & Pints, which now has a Morgantown location.  We met up with a few friends out there, and ran into several others, but mostly stuck to the slabs in the Moby and Fiddle areas.

Since we forgot to grab the guidebook from the car, and pretty much every inch of the slabs is climbable, we spent several hours just climbing everything that looked good.  It was interesting to look in the book later and see which of the climbs we did were "official," especially since some of my favorites from the day weren't even listed.  I was also happy to find out that one of my onsights was Stick With It, a problem I'd been wanting to try anyway.

We also spent some time down around the Tomb Raider area, and I finished the day on a variation of Pocket Sock that started on a rail at the base of the boulder and climbed up into the left finish.  I'd looked at it once before and didn't think it would go, but then saw a mono that was good enough to set up a bump to the bigger pockets.

So why the obsession with slab on this trip?  Partly because it's some of my favorite climbing, but also because of a more local boulder that's been on my mind.

On a Friday afternoon about a month ago, I had just resigned myself to bouldering at the gym when I got a text from Jon Alexander saying he was heading out to the Nest in Sykesville.  Having not been there since last summer, I jumped at the chance to revisit it.

The most obvious line on the main slab, called Crescent Moons or Central Dihedral by various climbers who've visited the area, starts to the left and follows good flakes up and right to an easy but sometimes heady topout.  I'd wondered before whether it would be possible to climb directly up to last flake instead of traversing in, and that day I was excited to find that there was just enough there to make it possible.

An easy walk up the ramp leads to a good right sidepull, with a small crimp out left that's just good enough for working your feet up a delicate sequence of crystals and getting within bumping range of another crimp just below the flake.  The bump itself isn't hard, but the ramp below and the crack to the right make the fall scary.  I probably could have finished it that first day had I committed to the move.

In hindsight, I'm glad I didn't.  For one thing it's meant lots of time climbing with my friend and Sykesville local John Brunson, who's shown me several out of the way gems that I otherwise wouldn't have seen.  One of these, Excalibur, is a great little layback/compression line that John Kelbel's site had only listed as "9' Boulder."  I didn't climb it the day John B showed it to me, but ended up making a spontaneous trip out the next day with Dan and sending it from a sit on the left arete.

It's really a nice quality problem for something so small, though I did get a good reminder about the danger of slapping blindly at aretes.

On our way back to the car we ran into Leigh Thompson, another Sykesville local and frequent visitor to the Nest, who showed us another fun boulder a couple miles downriver before it rained.  Fortunately it didn't require much use of my palm!

A few days later I went back to work on the slab with John, and once again chickened out.  It was my second day of trying a different foot sequence than I had originally used, keeping my right foot on the first crystal and high stepping with my left to another that I had cleaned off.  I was sure it was going to go that day, but couldn't bring myself to commit.

We salvaged the day just down the road at the Dragon Scales boulder, where John showed me a solid little lip traverse called Tattooed and Weeded.  I also did problems on both aretes, one of which used a really silly pull up and spin move to get established.

We finished out the day making several attempts at a line in the center of the little overhang, starting on underclings and throwing out left to the arete.  Much more dynamic than my usual style of climbing, but I eventually managed to stick it before we had to head out.

Tuesday, I gave in and brought a rope out to the slab with me.  After rapping down to spend ten minutes brushing an intermediate crimp that had been too thickly covered in lichen to use, I took a shot at the crux on toprope.  Realizing my foot sequence wasn't going to work, I switched back to the way I had originally attempted the problem, and stuck the move on the first go.  And the second.  And the third.  And just when I was feeling confident enough to try it without the rope, I missed.  Fortunately, by going back to the old sequence, I was almost guaranteed to barndoor off right if I didn't stick the hold.  I say fortunately because that meant we could more accurately predict the fall direction, and while still potentially painful, it was less likely to result in breaks or sprains than I had initially feared.

John arrived, Dan went back to work, and after a couple more attempts to dial it in we pulled the rope and I soon found myself on top.

I know I've said this before, but the satisfaction I get from climbing something that scares me is far greater than when I simply climb something hard.  This is also three scary problems in a row now where my last thought before leaving the ground has been that my friends on the ground have me.  It's a great feeling to have friends that I can trust so completely.

As always, if anyone reading this has climbed any of these lines or knows of ascents earlier than ours, I would love to hear from you and be able to call the problems by their proper names.  While being the first to do something can sometimes be exciting, it's also nice to be just a link in the chain of our shared history as climbers.  Whatever the history of these problems though, I love having them so close to home and accessible.  Go get 'em before it gets too much hotter!

meteorology lessons

Meteorology might have been one of the best courses I've ever taken.  Not just because I find weather to be fascinating on its own, and have a slight obsession with clouds, but also because so much of what we consider to be common knowledge is actually a misunderstanding.  As climbers, we're particularly inclined to pay attention to the likelihood of rain, and it was really helpful to find out what those percentages actually mean.  For example, a 50% chance of rain in Baltimore really just means there's a 50% chance that rain will occur in some part of the forecast area, during some part of the forecast timeframe.  That's how people sometimes stay dry during a 100% rain forecast, even if the people across town aren't as lucky.  Or how the current conditions report a 35% chance of rain, yet on the other side of my window is a steady shower doing its best to lull me back to sleep.

When I look at the weather to decide if it's worth driving an hour to climb at places like Bushwhack or Sugarloaf, I find that 10% chance usually means it will be fine.  Usually.  I've had at least two freak snowstorms during a 10% forecast.  20% means it's probably going to rain, but it's still worth heading out if there's something we're really excited about climbing.  30% or higher means stick to the gym.  

Yesterday was a 20% day.  Since we had a highball at White Rocks that we'd been staring at photos of all week, and the chance of rain didn't really even start until later in the afternoon, the hour drive and 20 minute hike uphill seemed justified.

While Dan rapped down and cleaned the big guy, the rest of us started off on a smaller slab.  We "warmed up" on two lines up the left and center, the second of which took most of us several tries.

                                                                                             Photo: Jon Alexander

We also tried traversing into the center line from the right side, which was really fun but sliced open the tip of my index finger before I could finish it.

                                                Photo: Jon Alexander

                                                                                             Photo: Jon Alexander

                                                                                             Photo: Jon Alexander

Then it started to rain.  Two hours before the 20% even took effect.  Realizing we wouldn't be able to safely work on the highball, we retreated to a "cave" formed by several jumbled boulders, one of which had an awesomely featured line running up the underside.  I've never seen anything like it around here.

                                                                                            Photo: Jon Alexander

                                                                                            Photo: Jon Alexander

As the rain let up, we went out to see if any of the day's other projects were dry.  Although most of them weren't completely soaked, the wet lichen still made most of them undoable.  Wanting to get at least one more climb in, we headed to a roof that'd we'd been looking at earlier, thinking we could still manage everything except for the topout.  The roof itself turned out to be chossy, with most of the holds giving way under fairly light pressure, but the face was solid enough to yield a fun line that traversed up and right into a sidepull flake.

                                                                                             Photo: Jon Alexander

                                                                                               Photo: Jon Alexander

While none of us climbed as much as we'd hoped, it was a memorable day to say the least, and I'm excited to get back out and check out some of the lines in better conditions.  We'll just look for a nice 10% day next time!

Walks in the woods

Sometimes exploring is half the fun.  Many people reminisce about childhoods spent wandering the woods with friends.  Some of us promise ourselves that we'll never grow out of it.

A couple weeks ago I went back out to Sugarloaf with Jon and his friend Logan, not with any particular projects in mind, but simply to find something we hadn't yet climbed.  Starting out on Secondhand Smoke, we worked our way up the hill to an interesting boulder that Jon had been looking at, a diamond shaped slab perched on top of other rocks at hip height so that the crux was really just getting up onto it.  From there we went toward the main climbing area of the summit, and got on one of the boulders that we'd seen from the trail before but never had a chance to check out.  Two of the faces had cool little lines that had obviously seen some traffic recently, and there looked like potential for another fun line coming out of a small overhang.

At that point we had to get Logan back down to his car, but rather than calling it a day Jon and I drove out to the Ephraim area to play on our new favorite boulder for a bit.  Jon quickly pieced together his project on the right side, and I did a direct start to Awakening that's almost as fun as the original.  I have a feeling the approach to that one will be a jungly mess in a couple months time, so I definitely wouldn't turn down a couple more trips there in the meantime!

                                                                                            Photo: Jon Alexander

Two days later Sean and I headed west again, with the intent of showing him the Acre and then walking back to Bushwhack so he could finish Visions, which had been his project last time out there.  After reaching the Acre, we left our pads in the corridor area while we walked down toward the pit area so he could figure out which problems he wanted to get on.  Once there, I realized it would be the perfect time to check out another area a few minutes further down the ridge, which I had also visited on my first trip to the Acre but had been unable to reach a few months afterward through the dense walls of vines.  There's not a whole lot there in comparison to the other concentrations of rock, and I certainly wouldn't tell people to go there if they wanted to get a lot of climbing done, but the view is pretty and I was happy to get on a short compression line that I'd seen before.  It almost reminded me of a really easy version of Stink, Stank, Stunk, but with a much sketchier landing.  Sean also found a boulder that caught his eye, a little finger of rock surrounded in vines with a fun semi-compression sequence.

                                                                                            Photo: Sean Espinoza

                                                                                             Photo: Sean Espinoza

The hardest part of the day was probably picking our way through the rocks to get back up to the Acre, but once there Sean quickly knocked out From the Dirt Comes Knock-Offs, Woozle, and Premise, and we both managed to send Beehad within a few tries.  I also sent Someone Get Her a Tiara after a couple goes, which got me breathing way harder than expected!

We didn't have enough sunlight left to get out to Bushwhack, but stopped on the way out to finish on one of my favorite little slabs.  Although Sean didn't quite manage Bitterness & Shadows, he pieced together Awakening and more than earned his multiple plates at the Pakistani buffet where we met Emily later.  For the record, I know laddu are meant to be for dessert, but I found them to be a perfectly acceptable breakfast as well!

This past weekend I got back out to Sugarloaf for probably my best session yet, with some of my favorite people.  After some runs on the warmup slab, Vince and Chris quickly took down Comatorium, the line on the right of the face, and Vince sent Reawakening (aka Awakening Direct) with little trouble.  Dan worked on a line in the center of the face that didn't go yet, but it was an impressive show from someone whose arm had recently been paralyzed for two months!  I also put in several attempts at an arete-free version of Reawakening, finally managing to send it on what I knew would be my last attempt of the day.  With that, Chris and I packed up and headed off to birthday parties and musicals, while the rest of the crew stayed around to explore for a bit.

It's been a great couple weeks, and it's been just as good to come online and see photos and videos of of others' walks in the woods.  So much good stuff going down.  So much to climb out there.

Carderock bolts

I posted this photo of my friend Chris leading at Carderock a few weeks ago, but this recent post on the Mid Atlantic Climbers blog and a couple of discussion threads on Facebook brought it to mind again.  In case it's not apparent from the photo, he's about fifteen feet above a small nut, with two cams in a flake below that, running it out toward one final placement before the anchor.  Many Carderock regulars discourage climbing on trad gear there, saying that the makeup of the rock makes it unsuitable for holding cams and other active pieces.  A bit ironic considering many of those same regulars tend to dispense with ropes altogether and solo many of their favorite routes!  Still, advisable or no, Chris knew the risks he was taking and accepted them fully as he tied in that day.

A couple days ago, it came to our attention that others have been attempting to break out of the toprope-centric monotony of Carderock, albeit on bolts rather than nuts and cams.  Specifically, two newly placed bolts were found on one of the area's more obscure routes, both of which were easily removed by hand.

For the record, it's situations like this that make me feel safer doing trad than sport.  I've led five sport routes, none over 5.9, and have never felt comfortable with the idea of falling on bolts unless I know who placed them and have seen them used.  While I understand that many areas do have well-placed bolts, and that I'd be opening up a whole new world of climbing to myself by getting over this anxiety, the fact remains that trad gives me a greater feeling of control.  I know what to look for in my placements, and know from experience that my gear will hold my falls.

I'll never be able to say the same of bolts, but that doesn't stop what's probably the majority of climbers out there from blindly trusting the work of unknown others as they clip and move on.  To an extent, I think there's an assumption that whoever is equipping routes has the necessary experience and judgement to do so in a way that will make them safe for the masses.  Again, the two bolts in question were removed by hand with minimal pressure.  Two bolts that many climbers, not knowing any differently, might have clipped and trusted to hold their falls.

Even had the bolts been placed properly, the fact remains that they shouldn't have been there in the first place.  I'm not referring to the long standing feeling in Maryland that bolts are inherently evil, a feeling that many already challenge as our current anchoring practices continue to contribute to tree damage and clifftop erosion.  Instead, I'm referring to the fact that the placement of bolts was a clear violation of park regulations, let alone the mess that would have resulted had those bolts failed during an actual fall.

Whether we agree with them or not, it is in our best interest as participants in a fringe activity to comply with existing regulations.  To do otherwise is to jeopardize access not just for ourselves, but for everyone else who enjoys our local resources.  This means not bolting in areas where bolting is not allowed, not climbing in areas where it is specifically prohibited, and in general trying to convince land owners that climbers are a responsible user group who can leave an area in better shape than they found it.

So what happens if we think the regulations are unfair or short-sighted?  What if we think the addition of bolts will ultimately lead to less environmental damage than current practices?  What if we disagree with climbing being prohibited in an area, when activities with equal impact such as fishing and horseback riding are allowed?

To start, we need to avoid taking unilateral action when organizations exist that can add weight to our arguments.  Specifically, groups like the Access Fund on the national level and the Mid Atlantic Climbers in our area have been instrumental in helping climbers work with land owners and managers to keep climbing areas open and accessible.  No matter how good an individual's intentions or ideas, they will only grow more powerful when backed by groups with documented records of promoting responsible climbing and encouraging volunteer service at local climbing areas.  That's why these organizations exist.  They're made up of climbers like us, for climbers like us.  Maybe they won't be able to grant all of our wishes right away, but at least they can help prevent impulsive actions from making bad access situations worse.

For anyone looking to get involved with MAC or get to know some of their members a little better, come on out to Rocks State Park on April 27th and lend a hand at Rockfest, and keep an eye out for more great events throughout the year!

Edit 4/11/13-  It's been brought to my attention that the two bolts in question were placed at the top of the climb to be used as toprope anchors, rather than as protection along the route itself.  While I apologize for not having my information straight the first time around, I'm actually not sure whether this makes me feel better or worse.  On the one hand, anchor bolts are less likely to experience outward pulls than protection bolts, somewhat decreasing the chance that they would have wiggled free during use.  On the other hand, protection bolts are only weighted if the climber falls, whereas anchor bolts are weighted during any fall as well as lowering, leading to more possible opportunities for failure.  Ironically, even though I have a hard time trusting bolts I encounter along a route, I am for some reason more likely to trust bolts that I find as part of an anchor or rap station, perhaps due to the idea that they are more frequently used and evaluated.  Whatever the specifics or ramifications though, the point remains... don't bolt where bolting is illegal, and if you choose to bolt a climb, please make sure you know what you're doing!

Rockfest 2013!

It's almost time for Rockfest!  For those of you unfamiliar with it, Rockfest is the biggest event of the year for the Mid Atlantic Climbers, and will be held April 27 at Rocks State Park in Jarrettsville, MD.  Volunteers, including climbers, hikers, and other local outdoor enthusiasts, will meet at 8:30 for sign-in before hearing about the day's projects at 9:00 and deciding how they'd prefer to lend a hand.  Last year projects included trail rerouting, invasive species removal, trash cleanup, and building a new playground entirely from natural and local materials.  Work will run until 12:00, when lunch will be provided for volunteers before they put the finishing touches on their projects, reconvening at 2:00 for a raffle and presentations.  After that, volunteers are free to enjoy the rest of their day at the park.  Unlike previous years, this will be a one-day only event, so you can leave your tent at home.  Just bring water, sturdy shoes, and of course climbing gear if you plan to stay around and check out the parks routes and bouldering in the company of new friends.  To register, or for more information, check out the event page.  Hope to see you out there!