10 pitch day (english 102 paper)

The ten-pitch day. A day coveted by rock climbers as one of endurance, enjoyment and challenge. On the eleventh of July my best friend Charlie and I imparted on a journey to the City of Rocks National Reserve for a day in Idaho’s premier granite crag. It would prove to be one filled with the gratification of fulfilling a rock climbing dream. Waking at 5:30 am is not an enjoyable experience, especially after getting to bed at one in the morning. After getting a lunch together and eating a small breakfast I drove to Charlie’s house on the other side of town. Upon entering, his parents told me he was downstairs asleep. Late as usual we finally left town half an hour later. The drive West across the Snake River Plain crosses dry hills and canyons on the way to the Raft River exit. On the way we pass Massacre Rocks, our hometown basalt crag that is too hot for summer climbing in the daylight. At over 100 degrees, we weren’t about to spend the day in the middle of a rattle snake infested desert, climbing on black rock too hot to touch. I’ll take gray granite at 6,000 feet thank you. Following more driving, we finally arrive in Almo at the base of a range of dry mountains called the Albion range. Cache Peak looms above us at over 10,400 feet. Leaving town, we drove up the familiar canyon to the Reserve. After a few miles we begin to catch first glimpses of the beautiful rock. The ancient Idaho Batholiths intruded an enormous mass of perfect silica-rich magma under the soil here. After a slow cooling process and millions of years of weathering we were left with a thirty six square mile area of granite spires and slabs. The area almost seemed to have been created for climbers. When we arrive at the Circle Creek trailhead I glance at the clock. One hour and forty five minutes, “that’s a new record” I say. Charlie agrees with the fast driving time. After readying our gear a man comes out of the camper trailer parked next to us. He introduces himself and says he works at a gear shop in Sun Valley called the Elephant’s Perch. We shoot the breeze for a bit and he mentions he’s bolting new routes up Circle Creek. He hints for us to come and assist him. I lie, saying we may stop by after our first climb. (This is a day for climbing, not drilling bolts in the rock.) After saying “see ya”, Charlie and I put our packs on and started the steep hike to the base of Jackson’s Thumb. The Theater of Shadows is our first route of the day. Composed of four long pitches, the route is very appealing. It climbs straight up the thumb shaped slab at moderate angles to the summit. The route is only rated at 5.7, and supposedly very little of the climb is actually worthy of this grade. In addition to these factors, most all bolt placements are only four feet apart, making for a very protected climb. Charlie set off, leading the first pitch. Playing around, he skips the first two placements, showing off to his less brave climbing partner. He showed a slight struggle after his second and third placements and then cruised up the remaining bit of the long pitch. After attaching himself to the anchors he belayed my follow up the pitch, removing the quick draws as I ascended the slab. I soon found that his struggle showed the crux of the first pitch. After coming to the anchors, loaded with draws from the numerous placements, I climb past Charlie on lead for the second pitch. I place a draw in nearly every bolt, only skipping two during the pitch. While climbing I glance over the edge of the spire, noticing the already dizzying height we had gained. It was a long way down, justifying my close placements. I arrived at the anchors, clipped into the chains and began pulling up the remaining rope for Charlie’s belay. He seconded the pitch with ease, saying that it was harder than the first. My confidence grows with the clean ascent of the pitch and the encouragement of my friend. Charlie took the remaining draws from my harness and began the lead of the third. After ascending a ways, he started ranting about the exposure of the climb just before the third belay station. As I start to climb I notice the steeper angle of the rock and the turn of the climb on the shoulder of the spire to avoid the overhang directly in front of me. Just before the third station the climb twisted over to the edge of the spire and the angle became nearly vertical. I was nervous about the large drop just below me but the holds were good and I ascended the section with ease. I got to Charlie and started to lead the final pitch. The angle of rock began to mellow immensely and the holds became larger than before. I climbed the pitch, completely confident without placing any protection in the numerous bolts on the face. I came to a steep step in the climb and decided I better place a quick draw just in case. After climbing the crux of this pitch I finished to the anchors with ease. I hooked in and belayed Charlie up quickly. He reached the anchors and seemed a little peeved about me only placing one draw on the long final pitch. He was sure to include “accidents do happen” in consideration of a fall. It would’ve been a doozy. While sitting on the summit taking in the view, two guys from Boise made their way quickly up the face, simul-climbing the four pitches with ease. We talked for a while and then used their rope with ours for an easy double rope rappel off the spire. The rappel was surely the scariest part of the climb, as part of it left you air born with no contact with the rock. After we all reached the ground we coiled the ropes and began the hike down the gulley to our vehicle. After arriving at the pick up, we decided it was time to hit up the main section of the City. We headed to Parking Lot Rock to try Delay of Game, a 5.8 slab/face climb all done in one long pitch. The summer before this one a young woman from Washington died on this climb after hitting her head on a long lead fall. The rope apparently hooked around her leg during the fall, sending her upside down into the rock. The accident has left the climb with a bad reputation. Upon arrival at the rock, the temperature was starting to rise as we readied our gear once again. After the short walk to the base of the climb we found a group of European climbers speaking a language we couldn’t figure out. I jokingly remarked, “It’s Greek to me.” The foreigners looked at us strangely, probably wondering why the hell we were wearing jeans instead of very expensive clothes made by Prana and other climbing companies. We asked them if we needed two ropes to descend Parking Lot Rock and one of the women told us it was a necessity. Her young son seemed angry at us for some reason we didn’t know. Charlie had read that there were two rappel stations on the other side of the formation, so we decided to try it anyway. After scrambling to the belay ledge Charlie began to lead the steep pitch. The first bolt was quite a ways up the face and after the first placement all the bolts were spaced far apart. A fall could be long and dangerous, if in the wrong position. Charlie slowly made his way up the crux near the top of the climb and then to the belay anchors. No falls, that was a relief. He belayed me up the pitch from above as I worked my way up the climb. Being on top rope made my experience less nerving than Charlie’s but the crux was attention getting for me none the less. At the top a couple from Seattle offered to let us use their rope for a double rope rappel. We happily agreed. As I was getting ready to hook into rappel I clumsily dropped my rappel device off the edge of the cliff. Luckily it became lodged in a crack about 6 feet down, where I down climbed and retrieved it. That was close. We all rappelled down the face with ease and began to pull the ropes down. Charlie’s became caught in a crack part way down. It wouldn’t shake out so we climbed up and retrieved it with some effort. While talking with the Seattle climbers for a while we discovered that they were friends with the girl that died on Delay of Game last summer. They refused to do the climb. After saying goodbye we headed to the pickup and attempted to backup. The truck wouldn’t reverse and kept bouncing off of something below us. Underneath all four tires I found a large rock, most likely left by the friendly Europeans. Looks like these foreigners didn’t like the cowboy kids that climbed in jeans. Oh well, we pulled the rocks and went for a bathroom break down the road. At the rest area we had a little lunch and eyed the east face of Bath Rock. I glanced at the guidebook and saw a 5.5 route following a slab/crack system on the face. I jokingly told Charlie we should free solo it (without ropes or protection). He agreed and started to walk over. I followed him, telling I was only kidding but that we could get a closer look at the route anyway. At the base Charlie decided to do it. I reluctantly agreed and ran back to the car to grab my shoes, dreading the decision with every step. Butterflies were flying quite hard in my stomach on the walk back. At the rock we started up a chimney and did easy climbing for fifty feet to a slab/crack combination. Here, I looked down on the route, about 100 feet off the ground. I knew that with no rope and a steep drop a fall would likely be fatal. I reluctantly continued, knowing that down climbing would be more dangerous. I climbed the steep slab on big holds, the crux of the route, and continued on large blocks and cracks to the summit. Looking down on the climb over 200 feet off the ground I relished the idea of our solo. The feeling of doing a climb so natural with little effort or time spent was invigorating. We had gained a small audience of onlookers in the parking lot below us that seemed less than thrilled. This climb made me realize a stimulating part of climbing, the ability to have one’s life in one’s own control. It is a grand sensation, one that I cherish and seek for. To get off the rock we scrambled down the back rebar ladder, put in place during a less environmentally friendly era in the reserve’s past. With seven pitches already done the day was shaping up to be a memorable one. At the car we decided our last climb would be a famous one in the City. Cruel Shoes is a three pitch climb found on Stripe Rock in the middle of the reserve rated at 5.7. Stripe Rock is infamous for its long access. We headed back to the Circle Creek trailhead for the hike. Once there we saw that the camper trailer remained. Charlie and I hoped that during the hike we wouldn’t run into the guy we said we’d help bolt climbs. The mile and a half hike in was hot. Surrounding us were large gray formations of varying height. From pebbles on the trail to the 1,000 foot face of Steinfell’s Dome, the City of Rocks was full of variance. In the distance stood Stripe Rock, a domed formation covered with its namesake decorations and standing at over 400 feet tall. It’s most notable feature was the large intrusive dike filled with quartz on the South Side of the rock called Dike of Destonia. A climb made its way up the dike, rated at 5.7. It was a trad climb and we unfortunately had no gear to place in the crack going up its surface. Upon reaching Stripe Rock a shadow cast over us, signifying the late hour. The sun would soon set. At the beginning of Cruel Shoes we found that a party was just in front of us beginning the climb. We decided to wait around until they were near the top. We entertained ourselves at the climb’s base by petting the other party’s dogs and making them fight over a bone. Once they gained the last pitch we began our ascent. I lead the first pitch, which began with a steep face but good holds. The climb was well bolted so I didn’t have a lot of fear in falling. I made a long traverse across the slab to an ample belay station. The footing was bad at the area, hinting to the reason the climb was named Cruel Shoes. Charlie followed the pitch slowly; tired from all of the leading he had done earlier that day. He then continued to lead the second pitch on a steep slab with sloping holds. I followed, noticing the burn in my legs and the pain in my feet from standing at belay for so long. I climbed past Charlie and lead the third pitch. The first four bolts was the difficult section. Past this the angle mellowed greatly and the holds increased in size and bite. I continued up the easy section skipping bolts along the way to the summit where I belayed Charlie up. On the summit we took in the view of pink granite bodies, gaining their color from the setting sun. The temperature was perfect and the panoramic view of the area was unforgettable. We descended the formation with four single rope rappels down the face. These rappels were tedious as we both had to hang from anchors hundreds of feet above the ground while we pulled the rope down and set up for the next. The fatigue was really starting to set in at this point so we checked each others harnesses and rappel devices many times to avoid making deadly mistakes. Once on the ground we gathered our gear and began the hike back to the trailhead. It was dark by now and the granite bodies surrounded us in the twilight like supernatural formations in the starry sky. A herd of deer ran across the trail, startling me as I walked past. Once at the vehicle Charlie and I loaded our gear and sat down, already wishing the day wouldn’t end. On the drive home we spoke little, just enough to keep me awake behind the wheel. We would laugh as I'd doze off and hit the rumble strip on the side of the road. After such a day, little bothers a climber in his deep fatigue of climbing euphoria.