| Summary | |
| Owner | MITOC Gallery Administrator |
| Creation Date | 2006-08-04 17:16:54 UTC-0400 |
| Description | Blueberry Picking on Cannon
7.29.06 Peter James Dennedy-Frank + Dan Walker The alarm never went off. I thought I had it set for 5:10, but Id been awake for ~20 minutes anyway, so when 5:10 clicked up and it didnt go off, I get up and turn off the alarm. Checking, I see I set it for 5:11. Im not sure if its a good sign I the day is starting one grade harder than planned . . . Dan and I are supposed to meet at 5:30, but Im running a few minutes late, so call his cell while I run down to the ATM. Of course, Dan never answers his cell so it doesnt do much good. It turns out to be unimportant anyways as Dan got lost on the way to my place. [D what jackass put all those roads in Somerville?] But he arrives before 6, we put his gear in my trunk and we leave before the White Hen Pantry opens, which means we cant get any coffee. Im excited and nervous. The plan is to climb Wiessners Buttress on Cannon, 5.6 III; it will be my first grade III climb, and is only bit climbers left of where the Old Man of the Mountain fell about 4 months before I arrived in New England. Im still kind of pissed I never got to see him. Cannon is notorious for loose rock and anytime youre planning on going up 6 pitches things could get a bit tricky. The weather calls for a possibility of showers early evening, and I really dont want to be trying to climb on wet rock and possibly escape a lightning storm, so Im hoping well move fast. But its also only 5.6, and I spent some time Friday posting to neclimbs.com and talking with Chris SG about the condition of the climb, which sounds good by Cannon standards; we should be okay. All right, first stop at exit 1 in New Hampshire to gas up. Dan cant remember where the ultra-cheap gas station is, so we find a Citgo and pull in. They have 5 different octane levels of gas at each pump. 87, 88, 89, 91, and 93; Ive never seen so many choices! But they dont have the swipe-at-the-pump credit card reader, and inside is very much a mechanics gas station, so you take what you get. McDonalds is right next door, so we pull over to get some coffee. I order coffee, pull out my wallet, and get told its free. This is something to remember, and figure out when exactly this is the case (Saturdays between 6 and 7, maybe?). And it isnt bad, either; definitely a key find. Fueled and fueled, we get on our way. The cops are out in force, so I keep my speed reasonable, but we arrive at the parking lot ~9. We had wanted to be there at 8, but not too bad. We sort gear out of the trunk of my car to try to condense it into one backpack. Well have to wear harnesses on the hike, but it will be a lot easier not to have to lead with a pack. We opt to take mostly my rack, supplemented with Dans hexes (which are definitely nicer than mine; the WC curved hexes rock!) and a few other pieces. We decide on 6 single-length runners, two 1.5, and two double. I think Dan says that he has 6 single-lengths, so put all of mine away; we will regret this misunderstanding later. We put on sunscreen and leave it at the car, along with my bug spray; another thing well regret. Geared up and ready to go, we sign into the climber register and get on the trail. There are 3 parties on Whitney Gilman, but it looks like well have Wiessners to ourselves, which is good as Im frightened of getting pelted with rock. The hike up is warm and sunny. As we move left along the cliff base, we encounter a section of fresh granite cleavage, identifying it as the some of the rockfall from the Old Mans succumbing to gravity; the large metal pole amidst the rubble helps. At the base of the climb, we see that the start looks straightforward but a bit tricky today; a short ramp with good holds followed by a slab traverse to good pro. But the slab is wet, all across. Neither of us really wants to be fractioning on wet slab without any pro to start the day, so we look for options. Just left is a ramp leading to a corner system that looks doable, so we rochambeau for the lead. Dan throws a bureaucrat, and after 3 were tied at 1-1. He throws rock and I throw scissors, so he gets it. The ramp is straightforward as advertised, but the corner is a little trickier. Good left hand, marginal right, good right foot, andoh, wait, that isnt a good crack for the right. Its moss-filled, and when you push away the moss its terribly sloped in the wrong direction. It looks like you could reach up to a decent left hand, but heights are deceiving and its several feet out of reach. Dan steps into the sling from a high nut to aid it after a good 15 minutes at that move; all right, so not as easy as we first thought. [D I have no shame ever since I pure-aided a 5.3 pitch. Besides, we were off-route anyway. heh heh.] A little tricky scrambling among bushes leads to a V-chimney which requires a good high-step to get into but isnt too bad. Dan sets and anchor and its my turn. I look at the time quickly before I head up, and cursewe only started climbing at 10 and its already 11:15. Well need to be quicker than that to beat any evening thunder showers. I hope to climb the pitch quickly and then lead through fast to get us back on schedule. Reaching the point at which Dan needed to aid, I realize the problemfrom below it really looks doable, but here its terrible. And I cant pull the same trick Dan did because I need to clean the nut. Crap. I swallow my pride and pull on the rope, giving me enough height to reach the good left hand. When I reach the V-chimney I set my left foot high and start to push up on itso far so good; Id sprained my ankle about three months ago, and though it is healing well its still tender, and I was a bit worried about some of this stuff. As I fiddle with hand jams to get a solid stance and remove the cam, waves of pain start coursing through my left foot; crapId pushed it too far already. I step down and try to figure an alternate foot selection, but thats definitely the right one and I cant go away from the chimney because there are two cams in it. I step up again and work my hands up quickly to get my right foot in and weighted so that the left one will be weighted less. Its a tenuous stance, but it gives me enough time to pull the cam and get moving again to a place where my ankle is not so unhappy. I arrive at the belay and we switch off. The next pitch is 5.3 with loose rock. Given that Dan had knocked off a couple of fist-size blocks as I belayed him for the first pitch this is not comforting, but its my turn so I lead out. Theres no pro for a good 15, which is not happy, but the terrain is easy and I eventually find a good cam in a nice slot with easy step-like ribs. As I start to pull up on the ribs, I discover the loose rock; a five pound piece comes off in my hand. All right, dont trust that hold. I try to set it down, but it skitters away down the face; luckily Dan is not in the fall line. The pitch eases after the slot, wit face climbing on good steps, but about half the holds are completely decoupled from the face, so I have to be very careful to avoid knocking down lots of junk onto Dan. I know we want to move fast, so I run it out on the easy terrain, but too soon I am told I only have 20 of rope left. I wanted to reach the bigger ledge above, but have to set an anchor with 3 tricams in rock I dont particularly like, but Dan shouldnt fall and it will probably hold. As I stand setting the belay, I look across Franconia Notch and see a plane flying, right at eye level. Now thats cooldefinitely one of the things you see that makes climbing great. Dan follows quickly, and after a look at the guidebook hes off to the ledge above and a 5.0 traverse. As he tops out onto the ledge, he exclaims: Blueberries! Sweet! As he wanders away I notice that there are some off to the side of my belay as well. I cant reach them now, but as soon as hes off belay I head over and grab a handful. I figure Ill just tell my parents that I went blueberry picking on Saturday. As I second the pitch, the rope is wound through bushes and scrub, and the climbing is a mix of low-angle slab and benches of bush and ground cover. 5.0 with your pruning shears I call to Dan. I find another blueberry patch on the way up so grab another handful. 5.vegetation I yell again. Later, I will wish Dan had yelled: Damnit, Jim, Im a rock climber not a gardener! All right, three pitches down, three to go. The weather has been vacillating between beautiful blue skies and worrisome gray looking clouds sweeping over. Cannon is an east face in an area where weather typically comes from west to east, so you dont necessarily see weather developing, and you really dont want to be caught on a wet face in a rainstorm; even less in a thunderstorm. Weve both been watching the weather and commenting at belays, but neither of us wanted to abandon unless something serious was developing, and every time that started it blew away. Besides which, if we had to rap on a single 50m rope we were going to have to leave a lot of pieces and it would take a while, so we really wanted to keep going up. At this point it was about 2; wed been averaging more than an hour per pitch, putting us well into evening for finishing. Definitely a concern, but still enough play and the next two pitches should be relatively easy, and Dan had done the last pitch before. I lead out on the left side of the indented slab. Its fun and tricky climbing. The slab would normally be easy, but because of the wet bands my foot selection is limited. I am very happy with my climbing, though, nimble feet, finding nonobvious placements and working my way up quickly. Theres a small headwall to the slab, and as I get toward it I place a cam up and left and realize, to my horror, that I only have one runner left; Ive only climbed about half a rope length. Im not sure how this can be, but its true. I start working my way to the headwall, but the spot straight above is terribly choked with vegetation, and Im not sure I can protect a completely vegetation-filled crack, so I head right to a right facing cornet to circumvent the headwall. As I do so, the rope drag from the last piece becomes atrocious. Ahead is tricky slab climbing, and I cant pull this much weight, so I downclimb and pull the piece. Pulling back to the right I realize that Im about 15 above my last pro (a good nut, but still) and have 5-10 of wet slab before I can get another piece. Dry, sure, Ill run it out, its not that hard, but if I cant get my shoes to stick Im in real trouble. I think some and yell to Dan: Well, Ive got no pro and wet slab climbing or no pro and wet slab climbing; what do you think? Im not sure if he heard me, but I make the decision to downclimb and head right, traversing to a drier part of the indented slab. I set an anchor there and wait for Dan to join me. As Dan joins me and has gotten a bit of a look at what I faced he seems to agree with my decision; really a bad bit there. The next section will be some relatively steep slab but with at least decent pro after a few feet and, while it has some small trickles of water, its mostly dry. Dan opts to take the lead, so heads off, doing very balancey moves on the slab but getting some good pro. [D- I made this bit look hard. Some steep-ish slab (which I suck at) with a 30 foot fall potential I was not exuding confidence.] He opts to move right and towards Lakeview rather than left back to our intended route because the traverse left involves more completely sopping slab, and he doesnt want to lead that either. He goes right and does what looks to be more gardening. As hes working on that, I start to see small black spots floating around my vision; great, Im starting to hallucinate. Ive been very careful to keep well-hydrated and ate some food at both of the first two belays (not to mention the blueberries), but I know Im stressed and this isnt going fast or straightforward. When I feel one crawling around on my skin, and see it start gnawing I realize the truth: the black flies are out. GreatI left my bugspray below figuring the black flies wouldnt be living in the middle of a nearly vertical wall. What do they survive on? Not many animals up here . . . But theyre here, swarming on my arms and shirt, and Im being eaten alive. Crap. I belay and try to kill as many as possible, but I know Im in trouble. Once Dan calls off belay, I follow up as quickly as possible to escape them. The slab climbing is funavoid the wet trickles, find the right feet, and balance. I dont find it as hard as Dan seemed to, but then again I have a rope above me so Im not dealing with any head issues. I head right through heavy trees, trying to figure out why Dan felt the need to try and thread the rope right through the middle of two of them. Up a wet, wet corner and were done with 5 pitches, two to go. [There is a bit of nice climbing just after the traverse. Some clean crack above a large dirt ledge. I laugh at the ¼ bolt at chest height from this ledge] The addition of a pitch has been offset by the blue skies we have right now. Were both feeling okay about the weather, and have a few bites of sandwich at a well-protected belay ledge. We dont dally too long as the black flies are still out, and before long I lead out the next-to-last pitch. Dan just hopes the flies arent burrowing in to lay eggs inside him. The climbing is better; actually, its really good. A left-facing corner involves a slight overhand and a high-step to get yourself onto the next level. Slightly less-than-vertical, with cupped hands and foot jams on the right, with good pro to boot. This is more like it. The corner is capped, so a nice airy step-around on a block that requires keeping your head beneath the cap is easier than it looks. Then 10 of perfect hands, and finally the piece-de-resistance: a large flake, with a good cam behind it, and stepping out onto the face, which is out over thin air for at least a pitch or two. Safe, airy, and lots of fun. At the top of the pitch, I find a summit slab with nothing except for vertical placements. I stick in a couple of tricams (anchor piece of the day), sling a chockstone with my cordelette, and its Dans turn to climb. Im feeling the exposure now, as the slabs really give you the feeling of being at the edge of the world. Off to my right is the clean granite left from the Old Mans decapitation, beautiful pink with the first green lichens starting to stain it. I vow to be extra careful, as I know I can make stupid mistakes when Im feeling like this. Dan follows, and I tell him how Im feeling after hes locked in. We double check our harnesses and my belay setup, and I flake the rope a couple of times to make sure its clear for the last pitch. Dan leads out a low-angle slab, made trickier by the water streaks, but does so with skill. A left-facing flake involves sticking your left thigh inside and getting it stuck while pulling yourself up with your arms and getting whatever purchase you can with your right. Dan makes it look easy, and quickly is out of sight. Im fighting the rope, with my flaking having been done poorly and the presence of the backpack causing extra tangles. Probably a case of nerves. I just make sure the next 10 or so are clear at all times as Dan keeps heading up. It seems to take forever, but eventually Dan calls: Belay off and I remove the rope from my belay device for the last time today. I start cleaning up, get on the backpack, and as Dan starts finishes pulling the rope taut I look up only to see a huge birds nest in the rope above meanother mistake. Good thing I saw it, but that could have been bad. I ask for slack, pull it down, and get it untangled. All better. I relieve myself in the gravel prior to heading outin addition to being a little lightheaded from the exposure, Ive really needed to go since Dan got a little ways into the climb. I hate doing so on a ledge that so many people use, but I REALLY need to go. Hopefully the gravel will absorb most of it and keep it from being too much of a stench. I head up to the flake, and make it look much harder than Dan did. I cant really get my thigh stuck, so Im humping and pulling and grunting, and just cant make any progress. I eventually pull on the piece above me just a bit to get myself over the final bump, but I clearly need to work on that kind of awkward movement. Or maybe I should have just climbed it as a layback. The final pitch is mostly a v-chimney, with decent footholds on both sides and a couple of nice, tricky sequences. And, of course, I missed the best handhold until my waist was already at it; oh wellI use as a foot. Soon enough, still huffing and puffing from the flake I arrive at the top and Dan and I shake on a climb well done. The weather held and we made it upmy first grade III! The descent is steep and the rock slippery; it takes longer than I want and the entire way down Im promising my ankles some serious pampering tomorrow. We sign out of the register at 8pm, and run into Lincoln for some pizza. After a couple of hours on the road we roll into Somerville a few minutes before Saturday ticks over into Sunday. - James |