Socks?

So why socks? Kinda goes with feet really. Boots, socks, insoles and feet right?



The thing that got me here though was Tracy sticking my best Merino wool ski socks in the drier. I'm thinking it was planned...as my best ski socks now fit Tracy, but they no longer fit me!



I get a little ahead of myself once in awhile looking for high tech stuff.





Lorpen's Tri-Layer Medium Ski . These rock!









38% primaloft eco polyester, 37% merino, 15% nylon, 10% lycra



OK, I am reaching. Socks? Come on! I am not climbing much, skiing is winding down and I am trying to get some work done in the shop.



Socks play a crucial role in keeping you comfortable. Be it running, cycling, hiking, mountaineering or just spending a few hours walking, foot comfort is key.



Tri-Layer sock design is acombination ofthree layers that work together. These layers provide threebenefits; better moisture management, more comfort and serious durability. The result is a sock that performs well over and over again.



Here's how they say Tri-Layer works:



Layer 1 (the layer that is next to your skin) is synthetic.

Synthetic fibres are better at wicking moisture away from your feet than natural yarns. Hydrophobic (non-absorbent) in nature, these fibres work quickly to move moisture away from your foot and into Layer 2.



Layer 2 (the middle layer) is natural.

Natural fibres are hydrophilic (absorbent) and actually suck the moisture away from Layer 1 spreading it out to speed up the evaporation process. The result is feet that stay dry for longer periods of time.



Layer 3 (the outer layer) is synthetic.

Nylon is knit as the outer layer to add durability to the sock and provide greater resistance in high friction areas. Commonly used for military applications, Nylon is renown for its excellent abrasion resistance. As the outer layer of our unique Tri-Layer system, it helps your socks to last longer and retain their comfort, even after many washes.



At almost $20 a pair for the ski socks you have to ask why? Or at least I did.



"Trilayer design - synthetic next to the skin wicks moisture away to keep foot dry; middle layer is natural yarn that spreads out the moisture over a large surface; synthetic (nylon) is the outer layer for durability,

light cushion, over calf height, excellent moisture management, fast drying, mchine washable, tumble dry, no bleach, made in Mexico







"Over the calf height" is mandatory soem times,as I like to climb in a knicker length soft shell on occasion. These days getting a sock long enough to cover the gap can be trying.

The company?

"Before Lorpen was founded in the early 1980's, our founders were disappointed with the socks they were using during their treks through the Pyrenees. The need for more comfort and durability drove them to start Lorpen. Today we still rigorously field test all of our socks in the Pyrenees before they ever get near your feet. This ensures that you get the most technical, well crafted socks available today. And that means comfortable feet no matter what activity you choose to do.



Lorpen is a strong believer in giving to the community. Over the years, Lorpen has given many 1000's of pairs of new socks to organizations that support people and families in need."



I have a trail running version of this sock as well the, Tri-Layer Trail Light XTR. Which is a different combination of materials, 36% Tencel®, 35% Coolmax®, 18% Nylon, 10% Lycra®, 1% Modal®. Cost? $14.00







I use it for trial running and on my bikes. Down side it feels really slick internally to me. But the obvious intention is to eliminate friction in the shoe. Which it does. On the bike my feet stay drier as well..



But it is the Merino wool combinations that I really like and will eventually purchase more of. Socks for both my ski boots and my climbing boots. And some of them will surely be mid calf height :) The typical shin bite you get from being in tight ski boots all day is gone. My AT boots seem to be the worst offenders. TLT5s that go from a tight cuff to no cuff with the flip of a lever. Back and forth yo/yo skiing them in the back country I get sore shins from my other merino wool socks..that cost anywhere between 10 and $20.



Noticeably less chafing from the Lopren's. Interesting company, some great products...and now the best socks I own :)



Like most reading thisI'd bet the majority ofsocks I own come in bulk packagesfromplaces like Costco. Good enough most days. Socks I'll sometimes wear knowing that a hardday out will totally trash them. Fair enough. But there are days that the socks I wear will be an important part of my kit. $20 a pair will be cheap in comparison to the time and effort involved. Those are the days I'll likely be in a pair of Lopren's now.



High tech socks..for Pete's sake! Who would have thought?



There have to be dozens of quality socks available....but not all are created equal.$20 plus seems to be the going price. Pays to shop around.

Winking Kitty

Ahhh!

Rialto Beach, Olympic National Park, WashingtonSeptember 10, ..

Crevasse Falls

The past weekend went by without a hitch (no 911 calls) However, no one made the summit either. The recent climbing trend has involved crevasse falls. In the past two weeks, clients, guides, and rangers have all taken spills somewhere along the Ingraham Glacier Direct or upper Disappointment Cleaver route. No one was seriously injured, but the word on the glacier is that there a number of hidden or sketchy crevasses to cross high on the mountain. The latest report says that the wands have been removed from the Ingraham Glacier Direct, and the guided climbing teams are putting a route up the DC.

The other interesting trend that is being noticed is the number of skiers vs. the number of climbers. Over the past couple of years, I've seen an increase in the number of ski mountaineers on the hill in May and June. There have been quite a few weekends where we've actually seen more skiers than climbers at the high camps! It's no surprise that skiers and boarders flock to Rainier when the conditions are good (April/May/June) but to actually observe fewer climbers is interesting.

And with that said, ski demon Sky has been at it again. On the one day of really good weather last week (Friday), he and Dave Brown stormed the Success Couloirs and made short work of the route on skies. Not to be out done, Jason Hummel posted a sweet Fuhrer Finger trip report (a bit dated, but nice images). Photo by Dave Brown

14 Months Without a Car

We have been without a car since last December. The "anniversary" of this date was so unremarkable, that it came and went unnoticed. But I've had some requests to post a 1-year report about what it has been like, which made me realise it's already been longer than that. I want to make it clear that being without a car is not a political statement for us and is not wrapped up in our sense of identity. For that reason I do not use words such as "car-free" or "car-light," or any of the related terminology. We simply do not have a car, for the time being.





Living on the border of Somerville and Cambridge, MA, we are lucky to be in a location that happens to be convenient for getting around the Boston Metro area by bike. Before moving here 4 years ago, we lived in rural Northern New England - where we did a great deal of driving and each had a substantial vehicle with off-road and hauling capacity. As soon as we moved to Boston, we sold the larger of the two, because it was clear that keeping both was impractical. The Co-Habitant's car was sold, and mine was to become the shared car. However, what happened instead is that I simply stopped driving at that point entirely, preferring to get around on foot and via public transportation. When later I started riding a bike, that became my main mode of transport. I have not been behind the wheel of a motor vehicle since late 2007, and I even let my driver's license lapse for some time. But I still co-owned our shared car, and rode in it as passenger.





We used the shared car mainly to travel out of town and for trips that involved transporting or purchasing bulky items. The majority of everyday transportation we did by bike, simply because both of us found it more convenient. When the car broke down in late November , we realised that we did not really feel like getting it fixed and preferred to make do without it instead. So that is what we did.





The winter of - was a brutal one, and interestingly getting through it was what cemented our decision. It snowed so much and so frequently, that we often relied on resources close to home - which made us realise that it is possible. If there was too much snow on the roads to cycle, there was a grocery store and pharmacy within walking distance. They may not be our preferred grocery store and pharmacy, but nonetheless they are there for us to simply walk to in case we needed milk at 10pm in a snowstorm. Further afield there are coffee shops, restaurants, a post office, and other destinations that could be reached on foot. The Co-Habitant could evenwalk to work if really necessary, though he had no problem cycling through snow. I could also walk or take public transportation.If anything, we felt that we had it easier that winter than drivers - who constantly complained about having to dig out and defrost their cars, and about the horrible driving conditions. A bike and a pair of winter boots require much less maintenance.






Once that winter was over, everything else was a piece of cake. Owning a car in Boston now seemed like a burden and inconvenience. How did we ever manage with all those fees and maintenance responsibilities? Not owning a car was so much easier, not to mention that we now magically had more money. And that's really all there was to it, as far as everyday stuff was concerned.






That is not to say that we never used a car. We still occasionally needed to travel to remote out of town locations and to transport bulky items. And, ironically, I occasionally had to transport bikes in various states of assembly for Lovely Bicyclerelated projects. But the key word here is "occasionally." Once we got the hang of zipcar and car rental, using these services in addition to the occasional taxi proved to be sufficient for us to not feel that we needed to actually own a car. The main limitation of zipcar, is that you cannot always get one on the spot, and we tend to do things spontaneously rather than plan everything out carefully. But over time we got better at planning and also became more savvy/psychic about zipcar rental. After a couple of initial glitches, it has mostly been okay. I even moved into my art studio with the help of a zipcar pickup truck, which went very well with fairly minimal planning.






Our only frustration so far has been with the public transportation system. Without exaggeration, the T (subway) has gotten stuck between stations most of the times I've taken it over the past year, making me late for appointments. The buses are habitually late by as much as 20 minutes, to the point that the bus timetable is not meaningful. The buses are also very full and taking fragile items on board is not practical. The commuter rail runs infrequently and not at the times we seem to need it, so that going somewhere via commuter rail can mean having to spend an entire day at the destination instead of the 1.5 hours we need to spend there. Also, many of the commuter rail stops are not handicap-accessible - which also means not bike-friendly, since they have these super long and narrow staircases leading down to the platform from overpasses. Whenever I criticise the MBTA, inevitably someone gets angry, as if public transportation is some holy thing no matter how good or bad it is and I should be thankful for it. But with all due respect, having used public transportation successfully in cities where it works, the MBTA is a disgrace in comparison. I cannot pretend to be thankful for the frustration and wasted time it causes me nearly every time I attempt to use it, and I am certain that it is the reason why more people in the greater Boston area do not feel comfortable without a car.






MBTA frustrations aside, we did manage to go on a 2-week vacation via bike plus commuter rail over the summer, and it was a lot more fun than renting a car would have been. No traffic jams, no gas station stops, no looking for parking - just the freedom of bikes. We brought all the stuff we would normally have taken with us too, including two weeks worth of clothing, books, laptops, and basic camera equipment. It's amazing how much you can stuff into heavy-duty bicycle luggage if you try.






When we first discussed the idea of giving up the car, it was important for both of us not to feel as if being without it would be a struggle, or would limit our freedom. And over a year later, I can say that at no point did we feel that way. At this stage of our lives not having a car gives us more freedom, not less. We do not miss the responsibilities and the spendings that come with owning, parking, fueling and maintaining a vehicle in the Boston Metro area. We also simply never talk about it anymore. We neither lament our carless state, nor do we congratulate ourselves for it; it's just become one less issue to worry about.





By no means is this narrative intended to be an "if I can do it, you can!" sort of thing. Our circumstances happen to be conducive to getting along without a car, but others' circumstances might not be. There is also no question in my mind that at some point in the future we will have a car again, and I will even drive it - since my ideal place to live is in the countryside in the middle of nowhere. In the end, it's not about fixating on the car as an object - be it an object of desire or an object of evil - but about deciding what works best for improving your quality of life. Car ownership for its own sake has become such a given, that it may simply not occur to some people that there are circumstances under which they might be better off (i.e. waste less time, be in a better mood, have more disposable income, feel better) without a private vehicle. When I lived in Vienna, I once asked an elderly socialite - the wife of a wealthy politician - whether she and her husband owned a car. She cringed and fanned herself. "Goodness no dear, sitting in traffic is so undignified! I take the trolley and I love to walk. For me, these are life's luxuries." The concept of luxury is, after all, relative.

Kayaking Devilfish Lake

Today was our Saturday and it was forecast to be a beautiful day, so we loaded the kayaks on to the car and headed up the Arrowhead Trail to do some paddling. Our destination was Devilfish Lake. I have photographed the northern lights several times from the public landing on Devilfish and been intrigued for a while to see what the rest of the lake looked like. The shoreline of the lake is spectacular, with giant white pine trees lining the banks. Several of the trees are leaning quite a ways out over the water, like this one that I photographed Jessica paddling under. As she glided under the tree she raised her arms to feel the pine needles brush against her fingertips. We were hoping to see Loons during our paddle, but sadly we did not. Still, it was a beautiful day to be out in the kayaks!

Wordless Wednesday :: Schooldaze ~ First Grade

Dontcha just love the hairdo? What was my mother thinking?

Another Cactus

I have another cactus blooming in one of my flower pots. I think it is a different kind of claret cup cactus than the red ones I posted photos of before.

Nene Way 8 - Barnwell to Wansford

With Marta. Weather fine, not sunny but warm. 14.44 miles, including short detour to Fotheringhay Church and shop in Nassington.





We started from Barnwell Country Park, crossed the old road opposite Oundle Mill and followed the Nene Way, which is pretty well marked, along past the marina, and locks, through some wide meadows, and over a footbridge into Ashton. The first part of the walk overlaps with this walk from Thursday, Aug 18,







Through the village and after a while we turned left at the 'Entrance Lodge' to follow the road which turned into a track, past a Rifle Range, past Tansor Lodge on an old Roman road and into Warmington. Coffee break (from a flask), part way along here.

When we reached Warmington village we turned right, then left coming out at the church, which is a big one.











































and on to Eaglethorpe with its 17th century limestone dovecote







After this we made our way under the A605, through a decorated underpass







and over the fields to Fotheringhay. We climbed up the castle mound

Two boats below Fotheringhay Castle mound

The pub does a good lunch, then we wandered around the church - there's an impressive historical exhibition in there, and it's much lighter than many churches.










The prospect of another six miles was a little concerning, but we've done over 12 recently. We left Fotheringhay on the Apethorpe road. The turning to the right is just before the speed limit sign, but easily missed. A track leads to Walcot Lodge, where we turned right again. About two thirds of a mile later, we were almost tempted to keep following the wider track which veers to the left, instead of going straight ahead. There is a Nene Way sign, but it's not immediately obvious. There's a short turn to the left, then right a little later, but once all this has been negotiated, the route leads down towards Nassington. We needed something to drink, so detoured to the local shop.

Back to the route proper, and onward to Yarwell Mill, with its boats and caravan site. These millstones are on the road leading out of the Mill.







We should have taken a path across a field at this point. Instead we continued to the road, and turned right towards Yarwell. Not much difference in the distance. From here it's about a mile across fields - lots of horses grazing,



and Wansford Bridge soon comes into view.










































Phew, Wansford Bridge - that's the Northants Nene Way done and dusted.

Injured hikers airlifted from Camp Muir with help of Army Reserve team

Here is the NPS press release about the recent incident on the Muir Snowfield. We'll attempt to put more information online when we can.

Injured hikers airlifted from Camp Muir with help of Army Reserve team

Two hikers suffering from hypothermia and frostbite were airlifted from Camp Muir on Mount Rainier at 6:15 this morning, with the help of a Chinook helicopter operated by members of the Army Reserve’s 159th Aviation Regiment at Fort Lewis. They were taken to Madigan Hospital and from there by ground transportation to Harborview Medical Center in Seattle.

The injured hikers were Mrs.Mariana Burceag and Mr. Daniel Vlad of Bellevue, Washington. A third hiker, Mr. Eduard Burceag, the husband of Mrs. Burceag, died of injuries sustained in the incident. His body is being removed off the mountain this afternoon.

The three individuals are experienced mountaineers who had visited Camp Muir in the past and have enjoyed hiking and climbing on Mount Rainier for many years. Two had previously reached the summit. On Monday afternoon, they became trapped on the Muir Snowfield by a sudden blizzard while descending from a day hike to Camp Muir. Early Tuesday morning a 911 emergency call came through to park rangers advising them of overdue hikers on the Muir snowfield. Due to heavy, drifting snow, seventy miles per hour winds, and near zero visibility, a rescue team was unable to safely initiate a search at that time. At about 7:15am, one member of the party found his way to Camp Muir and was able to direct a search team, made up of climbing guides and park rangers stationed at Camp Muir, to the party’s location near Anvil Rock. All three of the stranded hikers were under shelter by 8:30am. Three doctors, who were at Camp Muir as clients of one of the park’s guide services, provided immediate medical care. Mr. Burceag was unconscious and unresponsive upon arrival. Rescuers were unable to revive him.

The shelter at Camp Muir is warm, dry, and well-stocked with food and water. A carry-out rescue could have been initiated following the rescue, however, rangers and doctors determined it would be in the best interest of the patients to spend the night and wait for a break in the weather to safely fly the next day. This morning dawned clear above Camp Muir, with heavy clouds below. The Chinook helicopter arrived at 6am and, in approximately 15 minutes, lifted Mrs. Burceag and Mr. Vlad, along with one of the park’s climbing rangers, into the helicopter by hoist and cable. Those on scene report that the cloud ceiling had risen somewhat by the time the helicopter arrived, and that the rescue occurred amid swirling clouds that threatened to engulf the mountain in fog.

The Chinook helicopter was operated by members of the U.S. Army Reserve, “A” Company, 5th Battalion, 159th Aviation Regiment at Fort Lewis, Washington. [Note: Yesterday’s press release attributing the helicopter to the 101st Airborne Division was incorrect.] This reserve unit has worked with park officials at Mount Rainier on numerous rescues over the years, and has been invaluable as a backup resource when private vendors are unavailable or lack the capabilities required by the mission. In this case, for instance, the Chinook was able to fly out of Fort Lewis by instruments, despite the low clouds and poor visibility that grounded commercial helicopters. Over the years, the Reserve unit’s helicopter has been modified in several ways to accommodate the needs of Mount Rainier’s climbers: with a fixed line inside the aircraft for climbers to clip into; with removable plywood flooring to accommodate climbers’ crampons; with a special hoist for lifting individuals into the helicopter; and with flight helmets for use by park rangers, outfitted with avionics for communicating with the helicopter team.

Every year, roughly 9,000 people climb Mount Rainier and only about half of them reach the summit. Thousands more take day hikes or overnight camping trips to Camp Muir (48 were registered there on Tuesday night). These individuals are attracted by the majesty of the mountain, the wilderness experience, and the breathtaking beauty of mornings like this one, high above the clouds on the side of the volcano. Like many things in life, there are inherent risks in the wilderness. Sudden storms like Monday’s blizzard can catch even the most experienced and prepared hikers off guard. Visitors should check in with park rangers for the latest information about conditions on the mountain, and should always be prepared for an emergency.
~ NPS

A Day in Boulder Canyon + Eldo's Yellow Spur (5.9+)

(Photo: A climber on Rewritten (5.7) in Eldorado Canyon. Shot from the top of pitch three of The Yellow Spur (5.9+).)



Two years ago I had my first opportunity to climb in Colorado. I did any easy route called The Bomb (5.4) in Eldorado Canyon with my old friend Greg while I was in the state for a family vacation.



While that experience was a lot of fun, I couldn't help but feel it was also a lost opportunity. Surrounded by legendary, challenging climbs, we had done something well below my ability level, in part because Greg was out of climbing shape and in part due to my own insecurities. After this first taste of Eldo I was determined to get more confident and come back to climb some of the storied classics in the canyon. I hoped that I would some day get the chance.



This year another August family vacation provided that chance. We were in Steamboat Springs for a week, and then planned to be close to Denver for several days before returning to NYC. While near Denver I would have a couple of days to go climbing. With thousands upon thousands of climbs nearby, the possibilities seemed endless.



I had a ready partner in my old mentor Vass. Vass had moved back to Boulder from New York last year. During the time when he lived in NYC, Vass had been one of my best partners. He had really taught me a lot. I admired his calm competence with climbing systems and his reliably good footwork. Although he regularly claimed to be out of good climbing form, he would nevertheless sail up anything I could climb and make it look effortless-- putting my clumsy efforts to shame. Vass always encouraged me to move forward. His support made me feel I was capable of doing more; it seemed I was usually at my best when climbing with Vass. I did my first 5.7, 5.8, and 5.9 leads with him. I was psyched to be climbing with him again, especially since our last climbing day hadn't really gone so well.



We met up on a Sunday and decided to spend our first day in Boulder Canyon getting reacquainted and shaking off the rust. Vass and I figured we could do some moderate sport and trad and then on our second day we could go tackle one of the bigger objectives I was looking to climb in Eldorado Canyon. There were so many long classics in Eldo to choose from, climbs like Rewritten (5.7), the Bastille Crack (5.7+) , Ruper (5.8), the Green Spur (5.9), or maybe even the Yellow Spur (5.9+). But first we'd take a day just to get loose and feel good.



I was excited to check out Boulder Canyon. It is a place with a storied history, but I was afraid I wouldn't really care for all the bolted climbs I'd heard about. (I prefer placing gear.) As we drove in, I found the canyon beautiful, but then all of these Front Range canyons are so beautiful. They really have it good in Colorado. Consistent with its history, Boulder Canyon's climbingis varied. You can find recently (over-) bolted sport climbs up slabs right next to sandbagged old traditional climbs that go up cracks.



Vass suggested we start on Tonnere Tower, a formation withmoderate climbing that unaccountably has been overlooked until relatively recently. Vass was thinking we would warm up on bolted stuff, then once we got bored do some trad climbing. Our first climb was Los Pinos (The Pines), a multi-pitch route that rises right out of the river. I led the first two pitches in one and then we rapped off. This climb has good moves and it made for a nice warm-up. I found the situation with the bolts to be rather curious. There are numerous bolts right next to bomber gear cracks the whole way up, but then the finishing roof on pitch two requires that you place your own pro. I don't know what the route developers were thinking. I couldn't quite make sense of the difficulty ratings either. I thought nothing on the 5.9 pitch two was as hard as the opening slab moves on the 5.8 pitch one. But whatever, it was a good time.







(Photo: Vass leading pitch one of Buried Treasure (5.8+).)



We then went around the corner and did two nice single-pitch sport routes, Twilight Time (5.9+ and fun) and Bobby's Back (supposedly 5.10d). Bobby's Back features rather delicate face climbing for a few moves past the second and third bolts. Though neither of us led it perfectly clean I'm pretty sure I could get it now after doing it once.



We finished our time at Tonnere Tower with a two-pitch sport route called Buried Treasure (5.8+), electing to add to it the 5.10a final pitch of Stayin' Alive. These three pitches had good climbing but if there is a move on Stayin' Alive that is harder than 5.8 I'd like you to show it to me! Putting the difficulty rating aside, Stayin' Alive was the nicest pitch we did on the tower, with good starting face moves and a fun easy dihedral.



By now we had done seven pitches and our day was slipping away. I had enjoyed the climbing so far, but I have to say my initial apprehensions were confirmed. I'd rather do trad lines up natural features than bolted lines up faces. That's just the way I am. Vass wasn't surprised. He said he wanted me to see Castle Rock, which is filled with old-school traditional climbs. We drove over there and Vass sent me up a 5.8 called Bailey's Overhang.



I could tell I was going to like this one before I even got started. Bailey's Overhang is good stuff indeed, a natural line following cracks and a corner up to a big roof. I really enjoyed leading this. I felt solid while jamming through the steep opening moves. Then I scared myself a little at the roof when I couldn't get my right foot up where I wanted it. But my back was against the left wall and there was no way I was going to fall out. After stepping down and resetting the move I got through it just fine. Vass made it look easy using holds to the left that had eluded me.







(Photo: Vass pulling through the roof on Bailey's Overhang (5.8).)



We didn't have much time left so we threw a top rope over a route just left of Bailey's called Curving Crack (5.9). I loved this one as well, and felt very good climbing it. It follows another natural line, a crack up a corner that gets steeper as it rises. Some tense laybacking with somewhat slippery hands gets it done. I wished we'd had time for me to lead it, but it was a great finish to the day.



There is a lifetime of climbing in Boulder Canyon. I'd love to go back to see more.



After our day in Boulder Canyon I decided I was climbing pretty well. I proposed we meet up early on our second day (a Monday) and head straight for my most ambitious objective in Eldorado Canyon: the Yellow Spur (5.9+). I wanted to tackle something big, and this six-pitch classic, which some call the best 5.9 in Colorado, seemed to fit the bill. I felt I was ready to lead the crux pitches.







(Photo: View of the Flatirons from the road into Eldorado Canyon.)



When we got to Eldo I was thrilled to find that the lot was almost empty. We humped up the trail to the far end of the Redgarden Wall to find the area deserted. I was very happy not to have to worry about faster parties breathing down our necks, and psyched not to have an audience for the "problematical" 5.9 first pitch.



This pitch was, for me, the crux of the whole route. It goes up a right-facing corner to a roof. There is a piton in the roof, maybe 15-20 feet off the ground, but it doesn't appear that there is any useful pro before the piton. In his recent guidebook Steve Levin warns of the potential for ground fall if you fail to make the clip at this piton. The climbing here is also a little strange and awkward. There is a good handhold on the side wall, but stepping up to the pin puts you off-balance.



Wemay have set a record by placing four (!) pieces of pro before clipping the pin. First Vass placed a piece for me off to the side before I even left the ground, which he then cleaned once I got other gear. I put a blue Alien in the first finger pocket as soon as I was done using the pocket to step up. And then I placed two equalized micro nuts in a thin seam on the side of the juggy hold on the left wall. I thought the nuts were solid, but I worried that the rock quality might be a problem. I feared that if I fell, the force of the fall would rip the good jug right off the left wall. If that happened, I'd not only hit the ground and break both my legs, but I'd also be known forever as the idiot who changed the standard start of the Yellow Spur from a 5.9 to a 5.11 by destroying the crucial hold.



As luck would have it, I didn't fall. I stemmed wide and was able to reach up, blind, to clip the pin. Then I was able to commit to the slopey rail beneath the pin and make the awkward exit from the corner.



Whew! The rest of the pitch was a breeze, traversing left to an easy roof problem. At least, I thought it was easy. Here is the place where I get to be the guy who says "in the Gunks, this roof would never be a 5.9!" Well, I thought the supposed crux 5.9 roof would probably be rated a 5.7 in the Gunks. There are great holds for the hands and feet. I sailed right over it, feeling great. Being a Gunks climber does at times have its advantages.







(Photo: Vass heading into the 5.8 pitch two hanging corner on the Yellow Spur.)



Pitch two was Vass' lead. This pitch is high quality, with a committing step up into a hanging right-facing corner and a few good 5.8 face moves up the corner to a ledge. My lead of pitch three was also fun, with mostly juggy 5.7 climbing up to an interesting 5.8 V-slot.









(Photo: Sorry for the butt shot, but this is me leading into the 5.8 slot on pitch three of the Yellow Spur.)



Pitch four of the Yellow Spur is where the real business begins again. This was Vass' lead, and while he was up there I wasn't thinking much about what he was doing, because I was preoccupied with getting mentally ready for pitch five, the hardest one on the route. But when he reached the belay and I started to come up behind him, I realized that pitch four is not something to treat lightly. It is not the pitch people talk about the most but it is challenging and pretty fantastic. I was jealous that Vass had led it. The pitch climbs easily up a huge dihedral to a roof, where an exposed, rising hand traverse takes you out and up to a pedestal belay stance. It is rated 5.8+, but I think the traverse is mentally harder than that. There are footholds but they get smaller and smaller as the position gets more and more airy. And then after you commit, turn the corner and start to move up to the pedestal, there more moves to be made before you reach the belay stance.







(Photo: Vass doing the exposed rising traverse on the 5.8+ pitch four of the Yellow Spur.)



And what a belay stance. We were now standing on a tiny shelf, something like 400 feet off the ground, at the base of the final headwall beneath the pointed summit of the Redgarden Wall's Tower One. Above me was a line of pitons showing the way up a steep face at 5.9+. The atmosphere was electric.







(Photo: Looking down on Vass at the pedestal belay below the crux pitch of the Yellow Spur.)



As I stood there I felt pretty sure I was ready. I could hardly contain my excitement. This was exactly what I'd dreamed of, two years before, when I'd first gotten a taste of Eldorado Canyon. I wanted to work hard, get fitter and better, and feel comfortable going somewhere other than the Gunks and jumping on a world-class 5.9.



I was on the verge of making the dream a reality but I had to forget all that and actually climb the thing.



Vass asked me if I wanted to look at the topo but I knew what I had to do and I just wanted to get going. We had been in the shade all morning but now we had emerged into the bright sunshine and I could feel the heat building. It was now or never and I did not want to hesitate.



The pitch is insanely great. It starts out with good holds leading up a crack. After I backed up a piton with a small cam I had to start the hard stuff, making a committing step over to the right using tiny crimps for the hands and small footholds. Once established on the face, several thin, pumpy moves up a shallow corner got me past more pins to a welcome stance. I let out a huge sigh of relief when it was done. I was elated but still had to do the mentally challenging rising traverse up to the exposed arete. Known as the "Robbins Traverse," this beautiful sequence goes at a reasonable 5.7+ but is completely devoid of gear.







(Photo: Vass working through the crux 5.9+ section of pitch five of the Yellow Spur.)



About two steps into this traverse the sequence is devious. There is a 5.7 way to do it but the crucial hold is hidden. Maybe there is an easier way to find it, but I had to make a committing step up using a fragile flake for an undercling. Feeling around with the other hand, in a very tenuous position, I was fortunate to find the right way to go. Once I found the hold, the pitch was in the bag. I lingered over every move to the arete, enjoying the scenery.









(Photo: Vass partway up the 5.6 final pitch to the top of the Yellow Spur.)




My work was done. The final pitch was Vass' lead. Levin rates it at 5.6 R, and itis easy but run out for the second half. It is a beautiful pitch, which I might liken to the arete pitch of Directissima in the Gunks-- if Directissima were several hundred feet higher. It is a fitting payoff for the route, ending the climb on a high note. Vass had no trouble with it, and seemed to enjoy it all the way to the top.







(Photo: taking in the exposure on the final pitch of the Yellow Spur.)



I also enjoyed climbing the final pitch, but as I got close to the top I got very anxious about the weather. A black cloud had suddenly rolled in as Vass began leading the pitch. Both of us felt the storm was likely to just miss us as it passed overhead but I could see rain in the distance and as I climbed I could hear the rumble of thunder growing closer and closer. The top of a pointed tower was the last place I wanted to be during an electrical storm.



Once I reached the top it fell to me to traverse the pointed "roof" of Tower One to reach the Dirty Deed rappel, which was our quickest route to the ground. This rappel route, which goes down a loose chimney, isn't recommended by Levin but on a weekday I wasn't worried about knocking rocks onto climbers below and I wanted to get down as soon as possible. The roof traverse was somewhat nerve-wracking for me, as I did it accompanied by continuing thunder and a few rain drops. I stayed on belay and placed a few pieces of gear along the traverse. (I can't imagine doing it without at least staying roped up.)







(Photo: Hiking down to the car. Goodbye, Eldo.)



Once I reached the rappel station all was well. The skies cleared and we descended without incident.



Climbing the Yellow Spur was one of the most satisfying climbing experiences I've ever had. The route follows a gorgeous line and features numerous interesting cruxes. It lives up to its billing as a destination climb.



But for me it was more than just a great climb. The Yellow Spur validated what I've been doing. I don't get outside enough. I feel like my progress is slow. But climbing the Yellow Spur provided proof that the progress is there; it is real. The whole climb felt within my limits. There was never a moment that felt out of control. We made the right choices throughout the climb and approached it in as safe and reasonable a manner as possible. I could never have climbed it in this fashion this two years ago, when I first visited Eldorado Canyon.



Thank you, Eldo! I don't know when I will ever get back again, but I can't wait.

Wild Hollyhocks

These little flowers are kin to our tame hollyhocks. I have seen them bloom at all different heights. Here they are only inches tall. In my yard they can get several feet tall.