Good-Bye Red Rocks!

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…

Dreaming, The FOX, & Leading

As we enter our third week at Red Rocks Canyon we still haven’t given in to the Las Vegas glitter and we keep on climbing, stronger than ever. We haven’t entered a single casino or even fooled around with all the conveniently located gambling machines, though I’m surprised Las Vegas isn’t audacious enough to put a slot machine right inside all the toilet stalls in the city. No doubt that would coax even the least interested to gamble, as staring it right in the face without taking a chance would seem a little unfulfilling.

Our gear is part of us. We take care of all of it and treat it like an extension of our bodies. In return it treats us well, or maybe ‘fairly’ would be more accurate. The cams respond to a squeeze of my fingers. They’ve lost some of their color from the many times I’ve placed them inside a crack to protect me from any potential falls. This gear holds me from hitting the ground were I to fall. I trust it and have learned to use it well. I think about the direction of the force that would be exerted on the piece, and then place it accordingly. Each piece should be set with the intention that it could withstand a fall. I gain confidence from each piece that I place, and keep climbing past it. It suits the part of my mind that should have been an engineer. It’s that confidence that allows me to keep climbing harder and harder routes. I can place gear as I see fit. I stitch up a climb if it’s difficult and I conserve pieces and energy in the stretches that don’t warrant protection. The placing protection component of trad climbing might be the most dynamic element that always keeps things interesting.

This climb is called The Fox. It’s a 10d dihedral crack that starts at fingers moves quickly past thin hands to hands and then mandates a lieback through an off width section and then finishes on a slabby, balancy arête. This climb has been the feature presentation of my dreams. Kristine and I have hiked up there twice since the first time I saw the climb, which isn’t a small feat since it’s a solid 45 minutes scrambling up boulders to the climb. I’ve hiked up to the top of the climb and set up a natural anchor from which I top-roped the climb. The second time I had Kristine accompany me to the top and taught her about the anchor I built and then we both rappelled to the base of the climb. Here’s Kristine in perfect style with The Fox to her left.

As much as I’d love to I don’t think I’ll be leading the climb before I leave. It’s part that I need to simply do it, but I also don’t have big enough cams to adequately protect the crack where it opens up. My mind can manage the tension while on top rope, but I don’t think my nerves would stay as calm if I was working myself up the slabby arête knowing my last piece was fifteen or more feet below me. For now I’ll remain content with my top-roping feat of this climb, but continue to dream of the day when I’ll lead it. Here are my boney knees, a bloody pinky, and my limp forearms after my second go at The Fox.