annihilate |əˈnī-əˌlāt|
[verb] destroy utterly; obliterate; defeat utterly
blissful |ˈblisfəl|
[adjective] extremely happy; full of joy
This post serves to update you on our recent happenings and introduce those unfamiliar with rock climbing to the world of crack climbing.
We’ve spent the last ten days in the Bay Area and in Yosemite. The Bay area brought friends, family, and music. We switched out some gear and visited with Susannah and Olivier (cousins) in Mill Valley, dropped off some gear with Chris McNamara in San Rafael, and spent three days writing gear reviews and attending the massive Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival in San Francisco. My other cousin Caitlin generously put us up for our time in the city. My sister Mari also visited for a brief time too.
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| San Francisco, how many cars do you have? |
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| Hardly Strictly Bluegrass |
Heavy rains in Yosemite postponed our arrival, so we hung around in Marin living out of the van, writing gear reviews from 9-5, and exploring the area’s social scene.
We’ve been in Yosemite the past four or five days. Camp 4 is mobbed with climbers taking advantage of the perfect fall weather. The forecast for the next five days reads perfectly sunny with highs between 76 and 79 and lows in the 40s. Perfect.
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| The valley |
In our first few days here Dan and I have repeated a bunch of climbs that I did in the spring. We spent two days cragging and one day on the East Buttress of Middle Cathedral (10c, 11 pitches). Today we moved on from easier climbs to some real crack climbing at Cookie Cliff. This easily accessible place offers a stout lineup of one or two pitch 10+ cracks plus a few bolted lines. Cookie Cliff kicked our butts.
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| Blissful |
Both Dan and I are well versed in the simple art of sport climbing. We’ve been all over the US and abroad and can crank on down pulling holds, do some heelhooks, and mantle, all with acceptable style. Yosemite, however, presents an entirely new style of climbing, virtually unknown to us. People come from all over the world for the slick granite, featureless cracks, burly offwidths, and sketchy pins scars that cover the massive walls that surround the valley. Most of the people here have years of experience tackling these climbs, but we are total yosemite gumbies. Our first day on these real, true to the grade, routes was nothing short of an annihilation. Today, I attempted to warm up on an 11a hand crack, but flailed miserably. Thirty or forty feet up, when the face edges disappeared, my hands groped the slick interior of the perfectly fractured granite, becoming ever and ever sweatier. I peddled my feet upwards- inserting them vertically then twisting horizontally- in hopes that the sticky rubber on my grungy climbing shoes would keep me in. Another 30 feet later, after a few strenuous placements, I retired from the battle. My forearms were swollen with lactic acid, my hands were barely able to move, and sweat dripped into my eyes. Stopping and hanging, breathing in the crisp Yosemite air, and taking in the view of the Merced flowing by in it’s fall low flows, I recovered enough for another battle of vertical progress. I have never “warmed up” on such a strenuous climb and I’ve never been so exhausted after a single pitch. That day continued with more brutally awakening climbs, a swim in the mind numbingly cold Merced, followed by pizza, beer, and internet in the Valley. Blissful annihilation.
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| Annihilation |
I’ve begun to loose track of time.
-MAX
