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Re: [zeke_sf] Dumbest thing you've ever done rock climbing...:
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blondgecko
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Nov 30, 2008, 8:30 AM
Views: 8443
Registered: Jul 2, 2004
Posts: 7666
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Guess I should add my story. Actually, I can think of two - both of which involve going woefully under-equipped into climbs that were well below my technical ability, but quite challenging in other ways.
The first is one I alluded to in another thread recently. This was only about two years into my climbing career, and I'd taken a trip to the Blue Mountains with a group, including my hapless (now ex-) girlfriend. Decided to take her on a bit of an "adventure" route one day. A friend recommended a five pitch grade 13 (5.6), along with a cheerful, "oh, you won't be needing any trad gear. It's a sport route!"
Heh. As it turns out, believing him was mistake number one. If I'd just read the guidebook description a bit more critically, I might have learned the truth.
Anyway, we rock up at the base of this thing (about a half-hour hike, upon which we saw nobody else) carrying a rope, a bottle of water, 8 quickdraws and a bunch of slings.
I began to realise something wasn't quite right when the first pitch (40m) had one bolt.  The climbing was easy, though, and the belay anchor was at least bolted - and besides, I didn't want to back down in front of my girl - and so I decided to push on. Second mistake.
Second pitch was better. It had two bolts. Third was a 40m traverse, with a relatively sewn-up six bolts.
We could still have backed off from here (albeit with a bit of difficulty), but that pride thing still got in the way (and I was too dirt-poor and cheap to ever consider leaving behind any of my precious gear).
This pitch was a corner, with a crack that could have been easily filled with gear, but was considerably more sketchy with what we had with us. No bolts. Still, we felt sure that, as was the case on the rest of the route, there'd be a bolted belay waiting at the top.
For some reason, she insisted on leading this one. Did an admirable job, too. I'm honestly not sure whether some of the chockstones she slung would have held a fall, but they were never tested. After she got to the top, I heard an "I'm safe" - then everything went silent. It stayed that way for a long, long time.
Eventually, I heard a shaky "on belay!" and headed on up. When I got to the top, I understood the delay. She was sitting on a ledge a few metres wide, as flat as a pool table, slung to a wobbly shrub with a stem as thick as my wrist, and a loose boulder that weighed perhaps as much as I did. That was it. Absolutely nothing else, given what we had with us.
Anyone who's been to the Blue Mountains will know the funny bands of ironstone that run through the rock in places. They're much, much harder than the sandstone surrounding them, and hence erosion tends to leave them sticking out in big, flat horizontal sheets, generally under an inch thick. Climbing them is like climbing a ladder in terms of technical difficulty. The challenge comes in trusting them not to snap off under your weight. The next pitch was a bunch of these spaced a foot or so apart. It was also slightly overhanging.
It had no bolts. Or anything that could be slung.
Considering this anchor and the crack we'd just come up, downclimbing really didn't seem like an option. It was go forward, or sit and wait for help. The latter may well have been the best decision made that day, but I didn't make it. Instead, I decided to climb this pitch.
So that's how I ended up effectively soloing a pitch of overhanging, dodgy rock, at least 100m off the valley floor. Given the quality of the belay "anchor", in hindsight I should have just asked the girlfriend to untie - at least that way if I came off one of us would have still survived.
In any case, I climbed the pitch. I have never been so glad to see a BFT in all my life. Actually, in this case I ended up slinging two BFT's - banksias that were probably a few hundred years old - just for good measure.
Teenage gung-ho and hormones. A dangerous combination.
The other story involved attacking the grade 16 (5.8) Watchtower Crack at Mt Arapiles, for which the guidebook description reads:
In reply to: The most commanding line at Arapiles still echoes with the whimpering cries of a thousand struggling leaders...
... armed with a rack that included just two pieces big enough to actually fit the crack (and one of those just barely). 'Nuff said, really. That was a memorable day.
Edit: wayward quote tags.
(This post was edited by blondgecko on Nov 30, 2008, 10:30 AM)
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Post edited by blondgecko
(Moderator) on Nov 30, 2008, 10:30 AM
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