Sharp End of the Rope

Note: Non-Climbers may want to skip this one.

After a moderate success in removing the cat piss carpet from my soon-to-be-inhabitable NEW apartment, I headed up to North Conway, NH for some much needed climbing. I met Mike and Mikey and Edna on Sunday and we headed up to Cathedral Ledge. Mikey and Edna hit Thin Air and Mike and I decided to take on Still in Saigon, 2 pitches of 5.8, with some bolts and fixed pins.

Mike and I are still pretty new at the whole trad lead thing, but we climbed without incident and felt pretty good about the whole thing. We finished the day topping out on Pine Tree Eliminate a VERY AGGRESSIVE 5.8+ crack. Mikey lead and the rest of us followed with much grunting and swearing. New England REALLY needs to stop with the friggin "5.8 default rating system". PTE was the hardest 5.8 IN THE WORLD. Seriously.

After climbing, we hit the Spicy Lime for some much needed spicy tofu curry. Mmmmm. We also opted to get a hotel room because, well, we were tired and couldn't be fucked with finding a campsite and were totally seduced by FREE HOT TUB signs along the side of Rt. 16. We ended up at the Suisse Chalet which did have A hot tub. Which Mikey and I shared with a couple who were taking their kids to StoryLand. *Shudder*

The hot tub and sleeping in beds did wonders as did the "free continental breakfast" (waffles!), so when we met up with Forrest and Suzanne at FrontSide Grind we were ready for another day of climbing. F&S decided to head over to WhiteHorse and tackle the Standard Route, Mike had his eye on Bombardment, a 2 pitch 5.8 on Cathedral. Mikey, Mike and I decided to tackle Bombardment as a team of 3 and then meet up with Forrest and Suzanne for dinner.

Mike tackled the first pitch, rated 5.6R. The "R" stands for "Run Out" and "Not really any place to put gear" and "If you fall, you are so totally going to get hurt." It was a gently sloping slab, but thankfully, a short one, with not much gear. Mike lead it without incident and we followed him up to the belay ledge.

Anchoring into a tree, we surveyed the next pitch. Mikey had already climbed it and described it as "a hoot". The guide book said something about an "awkward crack with good gear." I kept thinking about yesterday's version of 5.8 which left me sweating, panting, grunting and cussing. On toprope, no less.

I agreed to lead it and racked up. I started up, placed a couple of cams and started to wonder what the HELL i had gotten myself into. Boy, was it hot up there. The sun seemed to be boring directly into my skull sending a deluge of sweat into my eyes and onto the already greasy rock. Because I was climbing a crack, there wasn't any good place to put my feet. I ended up toe jamming into the crack and torquing my feet in my very tight shoes into a variety of painful positions.

Just below the crux, I watched my last piece, a purple camalot walk out of the crack and slide down the rope. I was decidedly uncomfortable. And hot. And shaking. Then I dropped Mikey's #3 Cam and watched it ping off the cliff and down to the ground below. (luckily another party picked it up and returned it) And so began the hysterical litany of curse words.

FUCK FUCK FUCK.

I was suddenly faced with MORTALITY as I teetered just below the crux, dropping gear, and wondering just how good my previous placements had been. I was convinced they were going to kill me. WHAT THE HELL WAS I DOING? SHIT! I struggled to breathe and think as MIkey gave me beta from below. "Just put in another piece and lower off. It's ok. Just relax." *Grin*

How the hell was I supposed to relax when I was moments from DEATH? Still teetering on increasingly greasy holds, I surveyed what was left of my rack. Not much considering I had stuck cams in about every 6 inches up this damn thing. Below me was a grey alien that seemed like it would hold. "Seemed like" wasn't quite good enough. I fiddled some more and managed to wedge in a blue tricam that was both totally bomber and guided by the hand of God himself. I gingerly leaned back on it and Lo! IT HELD! God apparently was satisfied with scaring me shitless and saw no need to kill me at this time. Thanks, bro!

Back on the belay ledge I collapsed into an anthill and tried to recover some of my dignity. The Mikes were really nice and supportive and didn't let me beat myself up too much. I mean, I've only been placing gear for like, 5 minutes, right? What do I expect? Plus, I did place a really awesome tricam.

Mikey lead the pitch, Brian showed up and I seconded it WITH ABSOLUTELY NO TROUBLE AT ALL. It was... easy. And... FUN! Whaaaaa? Stupid trad lead mindfuck.