…so little time. We’re currently campimg in Rocky Mountain Nationel Park, and climbing in/around Estes Park. Yesterday was some practice sport climbing — mostly Captain Suffer (aka Mike) yellin at me. Then today (tuesday) we climbed all over Jurrasic Park; more sport climbing, but really pushing my grade. Photos coming!
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Our project for Mon thru Fri is Lumpy Ridge.
We’ll head up to the town outside of Estes Park to pick up provisions and to visit the local climbing shop for a guide book and local knowledge. We’ve a campsite a short distance from the ridge. So we can ride our bikes a few miles to access whatever we want to climb.
So far, my visit to colorado has been pretty easy; hotel rooms, and climbing about half the days. But this week is going to be a lot more climbing. Yesterday (blog post/photos not yet up), we climber two single-pitch routes on Cob Rock in Boulder Canyon to get me some time doing jam cracks on granite. Oof! Burly stuff.
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Photos from our ascent of the Wind Ridge (5.6) route on the Wind Tower in Eldorado Canyon.
The canyon is an indescribable mecca of climbing, with classic routes just criss-crossed all over the canyon walls. We selected Wind Ridge because a) I could climb it and b) it was a short three pitches with easy access to water for our ALS ice water challenge.
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This had my name written all over it. (“Craig” means “dweller of the crag”.)
After climbing the first Flatiron, we only got a few hours of nap time. After some shopping, (new climbing shoes!) we heading into Boulder Canyon to climb on some granite in a “sport climbing” setup – meaning the rock had countless rock bolts set making it super easy to setup the fall protection.
Turned out I was so burnt from the previous day, I could only do a couple small sections. On the up side, I got to spend a lot of time belaying Mike while he worked on some project routes.
Getting to the climb involved a short walk down the road, traversing the roaring creek on a tyrolean traverse and a short walk back up the other side. Seriously fun!
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Sunday evening, on a whim, we decided to tackle the first flatiron. (My details on the climb are in my Flatiron #1 post.)
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A gallery of a few photos from my first hike in Colorado. I arrived late in the evening on Saturday, and this was my first exertion to see how the altitude really felt. Great little hike up a couple hundred feet.
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Tuesday night Mike got nominated for the ALS ice water challenge. So we decided to try it with, well, extra challenge:
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900 feet. 6.5 hours of climbing.
It is 6am and I’ve been napping in the front seat of Mike’s van since 3am. I’m pecking this out, stream of consciousness, on my phone, racing the dying charge, with a sore right pointer finger. Other than some apples and oranges, I’ve not eaten a ‘real’ meal in about 20 hours. What we managed to do last evening is the most amazing, most challenging, most focused thing I have ever accomplished. Nothing else I have ever done is even worth *mentioning*.
We started on a whim at about 6pm: spreading gear out of Mike’s van into the parking lot as the the regular mortals stared. “Look! Real climbers!” From the lot we power-hiked up what, I’m guessing, was at least 500 vertical feet of increasingly gnarly wooded trail.
To the base. Of the biggest inclined slab of rock imaginable. We spent a lot of time going over gear, call-n-response stuff, etc.
And on my first day on real rocks, Mike started up the first pitch, dragging the “sharp” end of the rope, and setting hardware for fall protection.
“CLIMBING!” Then I followed.
We did seven pitches, meaning Mike climbed away out of sight, and set up. a belay position as high as our 200ft rope allowed. Then I climbed, picking up gear as I passed it.
Seven pitches. Three before it got dark. Four in the dark. (We’d brought head lamps. ) Oddly, the dark was WAY easier: All I saw was this rock, my hands, my feet, and the infinite piece of rope I was following.
Up, down, around, over. Literally one. Inch. At a time. I covered something approaching 1400 feet along the rope, 3, 4, 5? false summits. Where you scale a thrust of rock – rock sticking up literally into the Milky Way hanging from the sky – an inconceivable puzzle of body and mind, to the top. Only to find a little down climb, over, and up yet again.
Six and one half hours of, “I’ll move my left foot up two inches to that nice looking spot. Now, I wonder what’s up to the right for my hand…”
We reached the summit at 12:30am.
Then rappelled literally down into the inky black off the back. From there we walked down an endless foot trail and back to the van.
At nearly 2am. Where I lay in middle of the parking lot, flat on my back, enjoying the sheer comfort and staring at the exact same stars.
It was transcendental. It was Herculean (for me anyway. )
Now, at 6:30, my legs are a bit tired, my finger tips are sore. I’ve not one bruise. The sun has just popped up on the other side of the world. Climbing is not “my thing.” I’m never going to want to sleep in a park, or live in a van, as Mike does now without a second thought.
But.
My god! It’s full of stars.
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5,780ft . Pretty easy walk up, with this awesome liitle rock formation at top.
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