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Our last day at Red Rocks we climbed at the Winter Heat Wall, a crag on the backside of Kraft Mountain.
On the other side of the canyon was another crag we had hoped to climb at but didn’t because of the heavy traffic that was there all day. It was called the Sunny and Steep Wall. Like the name implies it’s both ‘sunny’ and ‘steep’, all sport climbing, and one of the most popular areas around Kraft Mountain. Here’s a view from where we were.
That day we started with a thin seam that arched up the and right. It was one of the best 5.9′s we had climbed so far; a beautiful climb with a lot of different types of moves that all flowed very well together. I protected the climb entirely with nuts 
except for one cam. The irregular and shallow seam would not take cams well. It made me climb it a little slower, but all the protection was solid. Both Kristine and I thought it was a great climb. Very memorable for one of our last climbs at Red Rocks.
Next was a 5.11c on top rope, which also followed a thin seam up to a scooped out, steep finish at the top. The moves required balance and finesse, and then some delicate stemming and powerful moves at the top. It may have been one of my favorite climbs at Red Rocks. It would have been a difficult climb to protect on lead, but it’s on my list for when I return.
We finished on a 10a that started off in a short finger crack, passed a roof, and had delicate and hard to protect moves up a scooped face. I ended up running it out about 20′ between protection. I didn’t actually intend to, but I kept climbing thinking I’d have a good place to protect just a bit further up. I continued until I was way too far above my last piece. It was scaring Kristine, but she kept quiet as I had my own mental struggle about the best place to protect. I dropped a cam and a nut in, equalized them, and kept climbing. I didn’t want to take any chances with my last piece so far below. I think the climb would have been a lot nicer if I had done a better job protecting it, but in retrospect it wasn’t such a bad climb.
We’ll miss Red Rocks as much as we won’t miss Las Vegas. We’re happy to drive on to another place and are certainly taking all of our experience from climbing at Red Rocks with us.*
Note: These posts are about a week delayed. We’ve since been to Tucson, visited friends, climbed a bit, and left. We’re now in New Mexico somewhere near the Mexican border. More on that soon…
After finishing the Atman Crack, and taking a short break, we packed and walked over to the other side of the crag. Upon us was a beautiful and thin finger crack. It was in a slightly overhanging dihedral. A very short climb. The sun was starting to set behind the mountains and the bottom of the climb was in a deep shade.
The truth is that I didn’t expect to climb anything else that day, especially anything harder than the crack I had just done. The beauty of the crack and the opportunity for another photo-op drowned my judgement and made me pretty stoked to climb. I was roping up minutes later and Keith was again snapping pictures from above.
I’ll tell the story in a way that’s not so serious and people can laugh a bit.
The Conquistador lands at the shores of an unknown island, home of the mystical and Unknown, 10c, finger crack.
He points this way and that. His intuition has never failed him, or so he thinks.
He’s found the mythical crack. He dreams about it from below, and then from above. It’s beauty is blinding.
One last look and the feel of the rock on his palm convince him it’s time.
Wearing the traditional blue and white colors of his country he pulls himself out of the darkness, into the light.
He moves up the wall using opposing forces. He’s in a full lieback: his feet push his body out and away from the crack, which allows him to oppose that force with his fingers in the crack keeping his body on the rock. He’s confident.
He places the orange Metolius piece. It’s always served him well. The crack has opened up a bit, but it constricts at the top. Our hero still doesn’t know how he’ll handle this apparently blank finish.
He’s nearing the top. His siege is brought to a halt when his scouting right arm reaches up and reports back nothing. Things look desperate.
He backs down. It’s only brief enough for him to rip off his mask and return to battle with the full energy in his eyes staring back at the crack.
His second attempt at the top starts off hopeful but it all goes to hell all at once…
He’s lost his grip, balance, and vertigo chokes off the gravity keeping our hero on the wall.
The fall is jolting. It strikes a cord our hero hardly understands: defeat. It only breeds more determination and it’s not long before he’s back on route to the top. He calms his mind as he searches to understand the combination of movements and holds that he needs to unlock to succeed.
He’s touched on the secret. A solid and unforeseen jam with his right hand gives him exactly what he needs to balance his body and reach up left.
The clouds part as he pulls the short roof that stands between him and the ambrosia at the top. The intoxicating smell fuels his body. Success is almost certain.
Our hero in a moment of triumph and wild exhilaration at the top.
Celebration pictures! Nectar!
Muscles shots and dirty jokes are the bread and butter of this couple. What else is there?!?
Mucho love!
Keith’s second and last day with us was EPIC! It was so epic I’m breaking it up into two posts. One for each one of the climbs we did that day.
We hiked back up Kraft Mountain to a few crack climbs that some climbers had raved about while we were all around a camp fire a few nights before. Walking around the corner and seeing the Atman crack for the first exalted praise and aw from all of us. Things like, ‘Beautiful!’ ‘You got to climb it!’ ‘Oh my god.’ ‘Indian Creek.’ It’s rated 10a, and would be my most ambitious trad lead yet. Here’s Keith leaning out over the top of the crack, of course tied in to the natural anchor we built first.
Here’s the crack in its entirety. It presented a difficult shooting situation because of the high contrast between the sun grazing the top of the climb and the shadow the rest of the climb was in. Keith handled it like a pro and all it took was some contrast adjustment during post processing to make these images great.
Keith’s pictures captured more than just my leading the climb. He captured something I’ve very much wanted to share with friends and family: What Kristine and I are actually doing when we’re ‘climbing’, and how we do it. So I’ll narrate as the pictures tell the real story:
Kristine and I reach a climb, I tie in to the end of the rope, she puts me ‘on belay’, and I make sure I have all the gear I need for the climb. We always double-check each other–knots and so forth. I usually turn my hat backwards while on the rock. I do it because I saw Sonnie Trotter do it on his first ascent of Cobra Crack, 5.14, up in Squamish, B.C. For those interested check out the video by Patagonia. It’s bad ass! Anyway, here’s our cheery disposition at the beginning of the climb.
When climbing cracks, which is also called ‘trad’, short for ‘traditional’, you hand and foot jam in the crack to move up the climb. This climb had an especially hard and tricky beginning. The crack wasn’t quite wide enough to get the meat of my hand in. I was jamming in the crack just past my knuckles, which was a little insecure and painful. I’m wearing tape gloves on my hands to minimize the damage, although after this climb the backside of my right hand was pretty wrecked. This kicks off a great sequence of moves up the first half of the climb. You can see Kristine belaying, which is something of an art when lead belaying. She manages the rope that is out and is ready for a fall at any time, she feeds out rope as I climb, and is generally aware of everything that I’m doing and how the rope is involved.
After a few failed starts I finally got some momentum and made it half way up the crack before my forearms, pumped full of blood, screamed for mercy. I hung on a piece that I had placed and let out wild groans of pain and pleasure. Then back to climbing.
I anticipated putting in another piece of gear, which I put in my mouth while I had a good hand jam in, then climbed on with the piece in my mouth.
Now I placed the size 2, yellow cam, which is short for the Black Diamond ‘camalot’. They come in all different sizes and I have to choose the right one for that sized crack. It’s what makes trad climbing so engaging.
I’ve now clipped my rope to a beaner that’s attached to the cam. This is what protects me were I to fall at any point during the climb. It’s each climbers discretion and experience that dictates how much protection to use and how often. On this climb I kept myself pretty well protected, not being more than six or seven feet between placements.
After climbing past the #2 cam I was very close to the top and I placed my last piece, a #3 cam. With my arms and legs shaking I took an involuntary rest when my body gave out and I sat in my harness, against the rock, breathing hard and feeling humble.
One final and perfect hand jam!
While my eyes are looking up to find the final moves that will take me home, I’m really looking inside and scrapping down deep to muster the last bit of strength, spit, and courage to make this fat lady sing.
A climber at peace coiling his rope.
This was an amazing climb! I thank Kristine for the flawless belay and for giving me her time on a climb that was beyond her ability to follow.
In the last few years Keith has been fostering along a photographic interest that has developed into a full-blown skill, which I am indebted to for all the pictures that he took on this day (and every other day); as well as the motivation to get on this climb and make it to the top.
There was a beautiful 11c climb called Ying Yang Crack on the adjacent wall to Atman. It sat upon our gaze for quiet some time, until Keith and I vowed that we’d return to climb it. Just the kind of motivation we need for another climbing rendezvous!
I think I have done enough talking about Kraft Mountain…and for those of you that weren’t there for the wine induced rambling enthusiasm – consider yourself lucky – for those of you (Keith, Ben, Jonathan, and the guys from Marysville and Everett) that put up with my lengthy descriptions – my apologies.
So, I won’t babble any more, or try to come up with creative ways to paint the picture for you. But, because it is my favorite place in the Red Rocks (so far), I will just share some photos that Keith and Jonathan took.
jonathan
kristine
