| An Afternoon Adventure Trip Report |
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| An Afternoon Adventure   | 
| Page Type: Trip Report Location: California, United States, North America Date Climbed/Hiked: Nov 30, 1987 Activities: Sport Climbing Season: Summer | Page By: Clydascope Created/Edited: Aug 31, 2008 / Sep 2, 2008 Object ID: 437309 Hits: 168 Loading... Page Score: 86.54% - 2 Votes Loading... Vote: Log in to vote |
Written in 1988
Sitting around the house thinking of something to do with one day off and sucking down bong hits at a furious rate, David shows up like clockwork with the age-old question,
“Where we going today Dad?”
“Beats me, but Carey can’t go to the meadows, seems like the wife is a little ticked off because he’s been climbing and not spending time with her. They headed over to Oakhurst for a couples day. Besides, it’s probably way smoky up there anyways,” says I.
“We should head someplace, Deadman’s, June, it’s kinda late for the meadows,” David replied, sound a bit disappointed.
“How about Granite Basin? The Hair Raiser Buttress looks way cool, way run out but stylish,” I suggest.
“Sounds fine to me, what do we need,” he asks.
“Maybe some gas and food, there are a couple beers in the fridge.”
After a quick stop at the Shell Mart we were off to Hwy 395 for some road construction delays and northbound before long. The sky was very hazy, big fires in Yellowstone had brought smoke this far and it sucked. We managed a couple bowls once turning onto Hwy 120.
A half hour later we made the turn onto a dirt road and got a view of our objective: The Hair Raiser Buttress. About 400 feet high, The Buttress is the cleanest line in Granite Basin, 5.9 face climbing with minimal bolts. Vern Clevenger is known for running it out but we didn’t quite expect to find what he had done out here. It was a fine setting for a few hours of wild climbing.
At the end of the road we realized we were in for some heat. It must have been 90° and shortly before noon. We got our gear together and almost went for a crack climb instead, but at the last minute David got his nerve up and decided our fate. I said I would follow whatever he wanted to lead. After ten minutes we were roping up at the base of the Buttress.
The first moves proved to be harder than expected and we almost decided to bail, but with some perseverance David clipped the first bolt he was off. Not far above was a back off sling that Gark had left from an attempt last summer, before we knew what the climb was called or rated, and he had a hair raising event getting down.
David climbed slow and steadily, till he reached the two-bolt belay at the top of pitch 1. He had only gotten three pieces of protection in the entire pitch; each one had a ground fall potential. I was slow to follow but before long I reached the belay. It had been some fine face climbing so far.
Shortly above was a horizontal crack that held a good TCU and a bolt not too far above that. From the last bolt we could see nothing in the way of protection even though the topo said there were three more bolts. About thirty feet out from the last bolt David spied the next bolt, it was about ten feet to his right and quite a ways below. He decided to skip it rather than down climbing and clipping in. He continued up and found a loose stud with no hanger and passed by the useless protection. Soon after this I watched the halfway marker on the rope slip through the carabiner of the last protection. I debate whether I to tell him or not. I figured he should know, but I didn’t want to stress him out. At this point it looked like he was facing another ground fall, over two hundred feet up.
Then the big horn came into his view and the moments of terror were over for the time being. Not far above this was a five-bolt belay. David got set up as I prepared to climb. I could not believe how run out the pitch had been.
As I started moving up, the sun was blocked by a big thunderhead and a slight breeze kicked up. I had gotten about halfway to the belay when the micro storm hit with full force. Gusts of wind blew tumbleweeds and dirt across the face as I struggled with all I had to stay attached to the rock. Large drops of rain moistened the rock and cooled my body to the point of shivering. Clinging to the half-inch ledges proved very tiring. I could not help but laugh and scream with all my power. David was going at it too, we were a couple of raving nuts stuck on the side of nowhere.
Between gusts I tried to move, but when it blew I had to hold on with all my might. The rope was pulling out in the wind like a kite string. Finally the gale let up and I climbed quickly to the belay, physically spent from nearly forty-five minutes of being totally gripped.
David was wearing only shorts and was anxious to move on. The third and final pitch was a contradiction to the first two, it was well bolted and a touch harder. It also went without any commotion and a speedy descent to the truck was made. Beers, bowls, boasting and bragging soon followed.
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