A Trip

Vermont looked beautiful as we pulled away from the Connecticut river. Sunlight glanced off the shallows headed for the comforting shade of the pine tree steeped banks. I felt strangely self aware. I considered, "I have to drive 4,000 miles." And I thought, "This means nothing to me, but it will." I was right, but as the trip progressed, I lost the self reflective streak. Moments themselves seemed more important than what would, or wouldn't, or had already. Succumbing to a traveling trance was easy, delightful, and as I embraced it, I felt closer to the country, the road, and myself.

If You Could See What I See...

Whenever I begin these little climbing posts, I feel tempted to recycle the bromidic phrase, If You Could See What I See.  With this expression--I think to myself--the reader will have undergone some prescribed Gestalt Shift which lends itself to my, not-so-unique-after-all, obsession.  The duck will become the rabbit, and the reader ought to now share my enthusiasm for clawing at these big pebbles.  Admittedly, it's a token best reserved for rousing speeches to a sleeping nation or to con a friend into some self-serving machination.

Lynn Woods: The Discovery

When you bring up Lynn Woods to local climbers, you receive a varied reaction.  It's a choss pile to some.  A land scattered with lowballs of piercing granite.  They look to their hands dejectedly and impel the conversation towards the wonders of Lincoln Woods and Pawtuckaway. Others get a wistful glaze over their eyes.  They zone out for a moment, then rouse telling fantastical tales of gourd-like blocs, rained in the forest like a skittle commercial of yore.

Lynn woods was, in my experience, a farrago of mystery, potential, and confusion.

Rumney Classics or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Moderates

There are a lot of reasons to climb at Rumney.  Having spent innumerable days there in the fall of my senior year at Holderness, I tend to have a sort of protective, loving feeling toward this schist paradise.  During those crisp fall days, my small group often found solitude at the popular cliffs that feature short approaches and lots of 5.7-5.10 routes.  We frequented Meadows, Parking Lot Wall, and 5.8 Crag.  When we had more time, we ventured to Darth Vader, Jimmy Cliff and Triple Corners.  Those cliffs are special to me, and house several Rumney classics.

Freeport Fun

I open my eyes to see Karthik, standing in my doorway, geared up, nervously peaking in to see if I am in the "ready to be woken up state" or not. Big risk to take, knowing what I am capable of doing to those who attempt to prematurely jump-start my day. Annoyed, I tell him to go away, but my pathetic attempt at a sentence dissolves way too rapidly into a collection of clogged noises, resembling something between a wet series of coughs and a futile attempt to start a lawn mower after a long winter of neglect. I check the clock, 9:30 AM, holy crap. "Karthik I am going to kill you!"


Two hours, three cups of coffee, several arguments, and 21 miles later, we pull up the boulders at South Freeport. My intentions for the day were explicitly voiced, "I will come to hang out, but not to climb."

Video VVednesday: Footsteps in the Dark, FA?

As I mentioned before, we were able to get a bit of film from the crevasse climbing at Castle Rock last weekend.  Because the area is adjacent to the water and hidden from sunlight, we were only able to attempt one dry problem.  It seemed clear --though appearances often belie fact-- that the climb hadn't seen much, if any, traffic.  The problem began by ascending a few slopey crimpers on polished, frictionless feet.  These moves were somewhat difficult and required much more attention and balance than I had originally expected.  The precision required to remain static made it feel as though I was climbing a slab problem.  After the introductory sequence, I had to match on a sloping orb, about the size of a cue ball, and make a long throw for a sloping ledge.   I first attempted the move static, but the core tension required proved too tough for this lovehandled simian.  Second try, I pulled a Sharma and went for the Dyno.  To finish the problem, one has to mantle the sloping ledge and climb a pocketed exit through a chossy dihedral.  I was too knackered on my second burn to fully sequence the finish, but with the pump-factor getting to me and the tide coming in, I knew I'd only have a few more attempts for the day.  I rested hard, figured out the beta with Bennie and AB, rehearsed the footwork in my head, and it went on the 3rd go!  Sickk...

This one isn't a classic, though I remain optimistic that the cave holds a few gems.  It was burly, pumpy, and thuggy on the send go (which the battery was too low to film).  Anyhow, here it is, and also my maiden foray into cinema/editing:

Footsteps in the Dark, FA?

Thanks to Aaron for filming and Bennie for the spot.

Stuff to Read and Look At

As I mentioned, I spend lots of time (probably way too much) reading articles about multi-pitch climbing, and while I haven’t lately, I used to sit around playing with a lenght of rope or cord and practicing knots and hitches.  A few times this fall I went to Devil’s Chair, fixed a rope, and used my grigri and some cord to ascend and descend.  It was sort of fun, sort of muddy.  But I learned some stuff (namely that when ascending, the grigri has to be below whatever else you are using (i.e. prussik, tibloc, etc.).  So, in the interest of expanding our collective knowledge base, as well making things safer for ourselves, here’s some stuff I’ve read in the last few months/years:

Livin' Local: Lynn Woods & Castle Rock

Despite ambivalent New England weather and Ben's cookies, we got to make it outdoors a couple times this weekend.  Bennie's in town and he brought the LEGENDARY psyche (albeit with a certain acridness).  We got beaten up by the Gulu Gulu on Friday, so Saturday started slow.  Woke up dehydrated from buff chick pizza, with the previous night's jazz cover of SpottieOttieDopalicious ringing in my ears.

Psyched?

In some ways, there’s the risk of this turning into a climbing blog. I guess that’s not truly a risk, though, since all of us would dig it. So in furthering that possibility, consider this: a) my ode to climbing in all its forms, b) a to do list, and c) something to maybe to get the psyche up.