KirkW

Trip: The Monument - Smith Rock - Abraxas Date: 11/4/2011 Trip Report: For those of you not taken to reading long boring trip reports, full of gratuitous beta and long run on sentences sandwiched between mediocre photos, you should consider yourself warned. The gist of it is… I climbed Abraxas on the Monument at Smith Rock a weekend or two ago with JustinP and Luvshaker. We had a swell time. It’s a great route. If you do it you should take a bunch of number 2’s and a long cheater stick. That would about sum it up. Oh, and, it was cold. Sorry if I’ve already ruined your onsite attempt. If, on the other hand, you’re at work or you’ve nothing better to do, then by all means top off your coffee or tea, if that’s your thing, and check out the short book I accidentally wrote about what we did the weekend before last. I’m not sure when or where I heard about Abraxas for the first time, but I do remember the first time I saw it. JustinP and I were standing at the base of the Monument with a pair of binoculars trying to count the bolts. It didn’t look that bad. Perhaps the rumors of nightmare rock and ancient hardware were enhanced a bit over the tellings? But, damn, that’s a really big wall. I hadn’t even free climbed the Monkey yet and considered myself to be pretty solid up to about 5.5b. To be honest, it looked a little stout to me. So we decided why not. Next fall if the weather cooperates and my balls finally drop, sure, let’s do it. Justin would do the mandatory free pitches and I’d take an aid pitch here or there, I figured. With enough daylight, I was absolutely sure we could maybe get up it. My confidence was buoyed some months later when Luvshaker told me he’d love to have a go at this route and that yes indeed, the first weekend in November would work for him. I was now fairly confident that I could weasel out of leading a single pitch and just spend a nice day with my ass parked in belay. Dodging rocks while wrapped in a down jacket is a perfectly fine way to spend a Saturday. Lee had to work on Friday, but Justin has one of those cushy government jobs, and since I work for myself, we decided we’d head over on Thursday night to spend a casual Friday cragging. We’d launch on Abraxas early Saturday morning. The idea was put forth that perhaps with the short days we should consider fixing to Tombstone, if we could get there, and finish it on Saturday when Lee could join us. We all agreed this was a grand idea and Justin and I pointed it East after work. A little over 12 hours later, I awoke to the coldest temps I’ve felt since last winter and a WTF are we doing attitude. A cup of coffee and the 113th re reading of Watts description woke me up a bit and we both agreed that my shit talking NOAA’s predicted low of 19 the prior evening was most certainly the cause of the wicked cold temps we were experiencing. Cragging that morning was not high on our list and I considered making another press of coffee but the sun was out so we decided we’d just get on with it. We took our time getting out of the parking lot and moseyed on down into the canyon. By the time we arrived at the base, the temps had risen to a pleasant level, and the sun was barely being harassed by the occasional cloud. I was into my harness all ready and cramming candy bars and fruit leather into my cargo pockets when Justin informed me that we “might” have a problem. He couldn’t find his rock shoes and he would have to go back to the van to get them. I wasn’t any more excited about this idea than he was, but not really seeing any other option I figured I’d just chill and try to take a nap while he made another lap up and down the canyon. Just as I think he’s about ready to take off, he looks at me and says, “or if you wanted to save me the hike, you could take the first pitch”? I look at him and then try not to look at the wall looming above us. Before I have time to think about it I hear myself say “sure, why not?” Then I realize he means both pitches 1 and 2, since we had been planning on linking them. Ok. Sure. Why not? After a bit of gear shuffling, I’m racked up, tied in and we’re off to the races. The first few minutes of the climb are going well, but then I get to the second bolt. This is supposed to be a 5.8 I (mistakenly) think to myself as I start slapping around for a hand hold. Then I remember that this is an aid climb for us and decide that I should feel no shame in grabbing a draw. I grab it, feeling shame anyway, but get through the trouble and the rope keeps going up. Several days later, I arrive at the first belay ledge and realize my troubles have only just started as I eye the massive flake crack that is my next destination, and the sea of crumbling tuft between me and it. The bolts look solid, though, so I get after it. With just a minor bit of draw tugging, I find myself at the flake crack sinking a locker fist jam. From here I enjoy the solid jams and jugs up to the hand traverse, easily finding good gear along the way. Feeling braver now, I fat man flop onto a small block and take a breather while I eye the traverse. I convince myself that I’m not in way over my head and work my way out a few feet and again find relatively good gear. A slightly balancey move across, get a foot up and I’m at the anchors feeling like a hero and hauling rope. Moments later, Justin yells climbing and, in his approach shoes, hauling all the extra gear, styles through and joins me at the belay. Not being one to dick around at a belay or waste time taking pictures of his own shadow, he dumps the pack, grabs what I didn’t use off the rack and tears into the second pitch. Our stick clip soon comes in handy and he makes excellent time up to a slight bulge. I can’t see what’s around the bulge but I know it must be “interesting” as the rope doesn’t move up for quite a while. Soon enough, he’s through it and the rope moves steadily upward until I hear off belay and he’s taking rope. I jug to his belay, thankful that he ended up with that pitch. The mandatory free section after the small bulge reminds me of water damaged horse hair plaster and I wonder to myself if I would have been able to get through it without a trowel? Justin seems a bit adrenalized from the last pitch… …and I get ready to bite into pitch 3 knowing that some actual aid climbing lies ahead of me as well as more mandatory free. The sun has decided to hide for a while and this prompts me into action as we both suddenly remember how cold it was the night before. It becomes immediately apparent that my aspirations of hooking through the spans between bolts would be nothing more than a futile exercise in practicing aid falls, so out comes the cheater stick and I begin working my way up the bolt line finding an occasional gear placement as well as a couple of unexpected but easy free moves. A green/yellow offset alien makes life a lot easier just below the last bulge and a couple of smaller offset brass pieces get me through the worst of it. I make a free-ish move after the bulge, which brings me to a small ledge littered with several, museum quality ¼ inchers, but nothing resembling a belay and only one bolt that I would consider falling on. The rock it is set in does not inspire confidence, but it looks solid enough. I happily clip the shiny thing and work my way up to the top step of my aider and begin looking for something to pull myself up with onto the next ledge. Seeing nothing but more rotting, turn of the century plaster, and me still without my trowel, I finally look straight up and to my relief realize that I’m only 15 ft below the start of the Tombstone wall. All that is left is for me work my way up the low angle pile of construction debris and I’d have the anchors. Looking around, I begin tapping blocks that seem to be embedded into the crumbling wall covering and find a decent sized one that might be slightly more secure than the others. My left hand finds a crimp that gives the impression that it will hold, if only momentarily, and before I loose my courage, I yell down to Justin that I’m going to free. I disconnect from my etrier, leaving it hanging on the bolt with the draw. I move my right foot up high, to a small edge, and commit to the shaky jug. It holds long enough for me to transfer nearly all of my weight onto my right foot but not quite long enough to find purchase with my left. I feel the bowling ball size chunk disengage from the Monument so I let go and wildly start slapping with my right hand. Finding nothing and desperately seeking something solid, I suffer a short relapse of Catholicism and start praying that my right foot doesn’t blow. My prayers go unanswered and I too disengage from the monument and find myself hanging on the rope nearly upside down a couple of feet below the last step of my still clipped off aider. I let Justin know that I’m fine and batman the rope to my aider and am soon back at my previous highpoint but without the benefit of the jug. Really not wanting to go for another ride, I decide this time to step right to what looks like worse rock but easier terrain. I find a nice stance and spend a moment or two deciding whether or not I’m still an agnostic. I decide that if there is a god, she hates me, and standing here in a pile of kitty litter and broken concrete pretending to look for gear is not going to change that or get me to the anchors any quicker. I make the simple moves without further incident, fix the rope to the anchor directly below the crack and step left to a shiny anchor in the corner. A bit shaken but really no worse for the wear I decide to entertain myself by taking pictures of my own shadow. Soon Justin appears over the bulge and jugs his way towards the belay. Marveling at the rock quality, he again inquires if I’m all right. The shakes didn’t show up until after the rope was fixed and I was clipped off at the belay. They seem to be diminishing somewhat so I tell him they’ll pass in a minute and I’m good to go. It dawns on us that we’re at the Tombstone crack and that tomorrow we’re going to have to actually try to climb the damn thing. Staring up at it from the comfort of the belay I mention to Justin that it doesn’t look that bad but perhaps might be a little small at the start for my dough boy mits. We knew that the crux was low but from my current optimistic view point I actually became convinced for a second that I could free it. I’d get my chance soon enough. We rap our fixed lines, leaving a few draws between the anchors. The ever safety conscious Justin becomes a big fan of Gorilla tape as he discovers its benefits over duct tape as an edge protector. Only the summit of the Monument is still catching sun as we touch down on flat ground and we are reminded that it is November after all. It’s getting cold all ready so we toss our gear in our packs and head for the van. I can’t stop jabbering and I keep replaying the events of the day to Justin as if he hadn’t been there. He plays along and lets me talk. I keep looking over my shoulder as I flap my jaw and I find myself stopping to gawk every once in a while. The sun is nearly gone by the time we get back to the parking lot so Justin listens to me talk some more while our cold blooded home on wheels converts dead dinosaurs to heat and slowly brings itself to life for us. After a brief stop at the Thriftway so that I can find myself a chicken like substance from the deli or at least something injected with cheese and deep fried, we find a spot to park the van. It’s not quite so cold tonight but I’m still glad I brought the down bag. After a couple of beverages neither of us has any trouble falling asleep. We’re both rustling around in our sleeping bags eager for the day to start as the sun attempts to rise the following morning. We try to convince each other that it’s not that cold but I can’t argue with my frozen water bottle so I beat on it instead. Eventually I manage to produce what I call coffee but I can tell Justin’s not impressed. Lee meets us in the parking lot a few minutes before 9:00. We sort out the rack and head down into the canyon. We all pretend that it’s not below freezing and that the flakes of precip that are floating down out of the sky aren’t snow but there’s no getting around the fact that it’s cold. Still trying his best to ignore this fact, Lee warms up by running a few solo TR laps up the first pitch. Warmed by the 3rd or 4th lap he decides he’s ready and TR solos to the end of the first fixed line. I jump on the line next but am content to jug to our high point. I make decent time up the fixed lines and am thoroughly enjoying myself as I look up to see a grenade sized rock whizzing past Lee. He doesn’t appear to see it and as I jerk my head to the right in what I think is going to be a feeble attempt at dodging the falling missile I feel it graze the shell layer I have tied up around my waste. Before I have time to yell rock I hear Justin say, “hey, watch out, you’re gonna kill someone”. “Seriously” I mutter and continue pushing my jug up the rope knowing that there’s probably several more tons of that stuff above us just waiting for a flick of the rope or a gentle nudge to dislodge it from its very temporary position on the face of the Monument. Eventually we all find ourselves at the belay. It still feels below freezing and although I’m sweating like Ron Jeremy at a high school dance, I doubt that Lee has gotten nearly as worked as I did on the jug and must be cooling down by now. I flake the rope out and prepare to give him a catch while he steadies himself for the task ahead and tries to stretch out his by now frozen muscles. With a quick request directed to his maker and a harness full of little other than yellow and blue he makes his way up the short slab and sinks his fingers into the Tombstone wall. Although it doesn’t look like he’s going to pop off anytime soon I can tell by how fast he’s moving that the crack is much harder than it looked to me the day before. I can always jug, I think to myself as Lee proclaims “wow, it’s thin!” “Perfect!” I say, mentally reminding myself what happened the last time I tried to climb thin hands and off fingers. Justin is undeterred by Lee’s statements and is all ready chomping at the bit to get his paws into some crack. To my surprise I hear Lee say “watch me, I might fall here”. I find out later that, at this point, he could no longer feel his fingers and had no idea if he was jamming hard enough to hold on. His worries turn out to be unfounded and he is soon over the first little bulge and finds a good rest allowing him to shake out and thaw his fingers one hand at a time. He easily dispatches the difficulties at the small roof and disappears from our view. The rope starts running out much quicker and it’s obvious that he’s on easier ground now. A few more minutes pass as I pay out rope and soon we hear a victory yell followed by an announcement that he’s off belay. Justin is up next and he’s ready to go. Towing a rope for me he launches into it and nearly makes it through what I’m guessing is the crux of the route. Unfortunately he’s unable to hold on and off he comes. After a couple more attempts he’s through it and cruising the upper splitter cleaning most of the gear but leaving a piece or two for me to yard on if I can’t manage to free it. Soon I hear that I’m on belay and it’s my turn. I work my way up through the face moves at the start stepping on an archaic bolt along the way just because I can. I have no pride at this point. I just want to get up it. I make my way up to the bolt at the base of the crack and clean the draw that Justin has clipped my rope back into. Eyeing the crack again, and with the benefit of having just watched two people climb it right in front of me, I decide that my best course of action is to go balls out for the #1 Camalot that Justin has kindly left behind for me. I envision myself grabbing that cam. The vision is so vivid I convince myself that I can do it. I get into the crack and it is indeed thin. I’m barely holding on, but not coming off, so I focus on getting to that red cam several feet above me. I’m a couple of moves higher than Justin’s first hang and if I can pull one more move I’ll be yarding on that sucker and resting on my daisy. As I let go of one ringlock to try and grab another my feet decide that they’ve had enough and would like a break. I’m airborne, but the fall is pleasant. With the benefit of the stretch from my soft catch aid line that I’m following on I find myself hanging far below my crux move with a bolt once again in my face. Without giving myself a chance to rest, I go after it again. This time screaming take at the top of my lungs, as if yelling louder will allow whoever’s belaying me to magically take the stretch out of my rope. I fall. Then I fall again. I decide to rest and see if I can get feeling back in my hands. Once again I try and fail. And again. This goes on for a bit longer before I admit to myself that right here, right now, today, I’m not gonna free this section. I’ve got my jug out and on the line before it occurs to me that my system of one ascender and a gri gri is a bit difficult to get onto the rope without a bit of slack in the system. After a moment of panic I remember that there are about 15 different solutions to my problem and tell myself to sack up and get on with using one of them. Sliding my ascender as high as I can, I clip off to it with my adjustable daisy and yard myself up tight. This allows enough slack to get the gri gri on the rope with just enough left to loop back over my pulley. I jug to just below the small roof and clip into a piece. I holler take and feed the slack rope back out my gri gri until the rope is close to tight again. Hanging on a #2 under the mini roof just out of sight of Justin and Lee, I sink my hands into the crack finding the size here much more to my liking. I beller “climbing”, clean the #2 and pull over the bulge. The angle relents and I enjoy the solid but sharp jams as I find locker hand after locker hand all the way to the anchor. I arrive at the belay feeling wasted and somewhat disappointed with my performance, but generally ecstatic that we’re all at the anchors at the top of Tombstone. My end of the rope is on top so Lee offers me the last pitch. At first I decline thinking that I’ve had enough of the sharp end on Abraxas, but then recant my statement and agree that it makes sense for me to take it. I grab a few pieces of gear and start up the rotten ramp wondering just how bad the rock will be on this last pitch. I clip an ancient fixed pin many feet off the belay as my first piece and decide to equalize it with a shaky nut. Neither of them look any better than the rock they are in but the climbing’s easy and I keep working up the ramp. Justin and Lee are both shouting encouragement and soon I’m ass deep in a crumbling chimney many more feet above my mini anchor and I’m screaming that Watts is a sand bagging son of a bitch. I find the hold I’m looking for and thrutch my way out of my unnecessary off width shenanigans. I find a bit more gear between me and the summit but the rock never really gets much better until near the very top. After a small step across a gap, I wander up to the summit and find two studs still looking solid in the rock but lacking hangers. The only other bolts I can see are down the opposite side of the summit block and are obviously not meant for belaying from. The all ready disgusting rope drag I’ve got will be impossible to deal with even if the rope reaches that far. I walk back over the summit and find a crack that looks pretty good and takes the three medium sized cams I’ve got left on my harness. I equalize them with a couple of slings, tie in tight and take the best stance I can get. I’m not in love with the belay but it’ll do. I take the slack and let whoever is next know that they’re on belay. Within minutes Justin appears and hands me the line Lee is on. Justin works his way across the summit block and down the other side to the pair of bolts I spied earlier. After getting Lee on belay I ask Justin what the walk off looks like. He says “Well if duder and his dogs can get up here it can’t be that bad.” I look over to see who he’s talking about and suddenly hear someone yell my name. Turns out my buddy Mike was in the park, sadly with no one to climb with, and saw us up on the wall. He remembered hearing me claim that I was going to try Abraxas sometime around this weekend and guessing that it was us, he snapped a few pictures and hustled up the trail to meet us on the back side offering post climb treats and assistance with carrying ropes! In another few minutes Lee pops up around the dirty corner at the end of the ramp and calmly informs me, through a big sarcastic grin, that he thinks the last pitch should be rated at least 5.4b. “Easy climbing but not much gear” he says. Lee and Watts would get along I think. We down climb the “4th class” chimney, change our shoes and make plans to meet back up with Mike later before we plunge down the scree filled gully back to our packs. At this point I’ve had enough climbing for the day but Lee and Justin are both aspiring hardmen and after a brief respite decide to check out some obscure one star trad route on Big Ben. We wander over to the base and I decide after eyeing the short 10 something finger crack that my ego has had enough abuse for today and I opt to lie in the grass and raise the nicotine level in my system to a proper level. They both get up it and decide they’ve had their fill. Back to the Thriftway for more fried chicken and then to find a place to camp. That night we enjoy a couple of beverages around a decent campfire and make plans for Sunday. Everyone is in their bag early and I lie there for some time wondering if I’m the only one that feels like they’ve been hit by a train. I fall asleep thinking about being gripped on Karate crack, as that seems to be on my tick list for the following day, and wake up early to the sound of rain. We get out of our bags and start moving around but I’m not moving fast. As I’m stumbling around camp waiting for water to boil I notice that someone had discarded a used needle into the sage brush just a scant 10 yards from our van. What luck, I think to myself, as I consider freebasing a couple dozen ibuprofen. Before I’m able to get the spoon hot enough I notice that it’s beginning to snow. No. Not beginning to snow. It’s snowing. We give it a little while longer to break, as I down coffee and chain smoke in a vain attempt to make myself feel like going aid climbing. It fails to motivate us and Lee announces that he’s calling it and is gonna head for the valley. Justin and I pack it up but decide to take a drive back to the park “just in case” it’s better over there. It’s not. I convince Justin to drive down to the Northern point because I want one last look at the Monument. I get it and we turn the van around heading back to the valley and security of the women that tolerate us. I think we all agree that Abraxas was a fine adventure and a worthy endeavor for those that are not deterred by a bit of loose rock. It will never clean up completely but it protects well enough to call it safe-ish and the position, exposure and climbing on the Tombstone pitch are rivaled by nothing I’ve climbed at Smith. When I consider that this route has been freed from bottom to top, I’m humbled and find it necessary to point out that without the benefit of a significant amount of beta, strong partners and a long cheater stick, this route was a little out of my league. We all got through it though and had a helluva good time doing it. I’m sure I’ll be back up there again with cheater stick and aiders as well as aspirations of sinking that red Camalot so someone else can try to hang on it. Gear Notes: Single set of cams to #3 camalot with offset aliens for the smaller sizes. BD nuts Offset nuts from #3 DMM brass to #11 DMM Two 60 meter ropes As many hand sized pieces as your ego will allow you to carry for Tombstone. Approach Notes: Walk over there.

In case you didn't notice the last time you looked at your "smith" pass, that thing is actually a state parks pass and will get you into every park in OR too. Except of course for the ones that require the NW forest pass. Or a snow park pass. Or a concessionaires fee. I certainly don't consider OR system to be much better. I guess Washington decided to opt out of that reciprocity thing with the NW Forest pass and just charge everyone through the ass to take a dump or go for a walk? Or did I miss something? Sorry to offend though...I realize you are a rather thin skinned individual. I should have known better

After a day of probably too much enjoyment of the fermented fruit of the Columbia River Gorge, which we followed up by a gluttonous meal at the slightly creepy but incredibly cool historic Lyle hotel... ...my girlfriend and I decided that perhaps a little hike would do right by both of us, and we vowed to search out yet another cool meandering trail in The Gorge. Our plans were somewhat stymied by Mother Nature as we awoke to find the normally just simply mildly annoying wind to be blowing harder than a 17 year old prom queen in Vegas just off the bus from Missouri. It looked like she’d been busy all night with trees down and power poles in several places no longer standing plumb. Not wishing to suffer, we opted for Horsethief Butte. It would give me a chance to scope the climbing and we hoped that perhaps the butte itself would offer a bit of shelter. As we pulled into the parking lot, I was impressed by the fastidious nature of the trail head as well as the meticulously manicured landscape. The next thing that caught my attention was a well constructed shack, which I presumed covered a hole in the ground that the state of Washington deemed appropriate for both men and women (as well as androgynous individuals confined to a wheel chair) to shit in. Still carrying the rib eye from the previous evening, I’m a bit embarrassed to admit to my level of elation at finding such a well constructed place to leave my turd. Before we have the car in park I become a bit concerned that the notice affixed to the saw horse blocking entry to the door of the fine throne was full of bad news for me. We both also couldn’t help but notice the large sign bolted to the side of the manufactured shit hole that stated a “Discover” pass was required to tread here. Having spent my last ten dollars the previous evening on my now unpleasant source of discomfort, I was unable (or perhaps just unwilling) to afford even the day pass. We slid into the “15 minute parking without a Discover pass” spot and I was left to wonder if this spot was also a “free speech zone” or if that constitutionally protected right was not valid here either. As I approach the blocked doorway, my worst fears are confirmed as I “discover” that this restroom is closed due to budget constraints and that sadly, I can not deposit my burden here. Apparently, a couple of dogs couldn’t read the sign and chose to unburden themselves anyway. A big thank you to the owners of these fine beasts! They were kind enough to wrap their 4 legged friend’s presents in a clear plastic bag and leave for our viewing pleasure in the exact spot that one would expect to find a trash can. Undeterred, or perhaps just disinterested in the dog shit, my girlfriend decides to explore up the trail a bit while I amuse myself by reading the sign board to the right of the resplendent but unusable privy. It contains yet another sign that informs me that to visit the butte I would need to pay and gave detailed instructions as to how the state of Washington would like me to give them my money. I entertain myself with the camera for a bit as I wait for her to return. She is soon back having seen nothing but more trail consisting of not an insignificant amount of comfy class 3 fill brought in by the state of Washington and the tall grasses that they have hacked a path through. Not wanting to risk prosecution for exceeding our constitutionally protected 15 minutes, we hop back into the car and I decide we should go back to the Oregon side so I can shit someplace without having to spend my weekly allowance. As we back out of our parking spot and head towards the exit, we both can’t help but notice the single parking spot painted off near the side that looks large enough to land a 747. I guess some of the smaller motor homes I’ve seen would have fit in there too. With the wind still blowing, we bag any illusions we had of hiking and decide to go to Hood River and get me nice and tanked up for the long ride home. Our plans are derailed again as we arrive in town only to discover that the power is out and the brewery is no longer seating new customers. At this point I decide that perhaps the spirits are trying to tell us something and we head for home. The drive back to Corvallis is long enough for me to have come up with a couple of questions for the state of Washington. I was hoping that perhaps a local could help me out with divining the answers…If I understand it correctly it would seem that the state of WA spent a (pardon the pun) shit ton of money to build a new parking lot at a place that has been visited by untold numbers of people for decades without difficulty? Having spent this money they are now in a financial crisis and institute a program that allows you to “discover” Washington for a one time fee of $30 or you can pay as you go at $10 a trip? The cost of instituting and enforcing this program seems to have bankrupted them to the point that they must regretfully lock the doors to the shitters and remove the garbage cans? I wonder how many bags of dog shit the state of Washington could have disposed of for its citizens if it had not decided to repave a parking lot so that cruise ships and the occasional shipping barge would have a place to dock at Horsethief Butte? Anyway, we ended up having a great time this weekend, despite the efforts of the land use policy makers and I’d highly recommend a weekend wine tasting in The Gorge. Forget the hiking though, unless you’re rich. And don’t even think about going number 2 there. Shit is expensive in Washington.

dunno - i like to be lost and so never seem to have a guidebook - thought that was the tombstone crack that abraxas went to at the end of p3? we rapped where there was a good anchor and everythign above was chossy easiness to the false summit, from which you look to do a rope-lenght of traversing, then some down and back up to the true top. i'll be back soon enough i bet, fucking beaconben is drawn to this thing like flies 2 shit! The last pitch was really easy but quite dirty and loose. Just the way I like them. I ended up on the summit looking for anchors but found only studs with no hangers. If you've got a couple medium cams with, you can build a good enough belay just shy of the true summit. No anchors up there that we could see other than the ones Tyler mentioned for rapping the easy chimney. It was several meters shy of 60 from the anchor atop Tombstone to the summit. Thanks for the beta through JustinP. We had to seige it but we got up it. TR to follow in a few days when I get the rest of the pics.

You're about 3 weeks too early for an OR bolt bitch fest. The season doesn't start until after Thanksgiving. I'll weigh in on this very important matter then.

I love how the "happy birfday cc!" thread turned into just another poo flinging contest. Classic cc. Way to shit on everyone's parade fairweather. And what's with all those quotes? Stalk much?

Didn't think I was starting a pissing match. Kevbone doesn't mind voicing his opinion and I'm not calling him out as one of satan's minions or anything but I thought he'd be interested in knowing that he could actually speak with his choices rather than just post videos about gov't lies and random conspiracy theories in spray. Everyone is talking the talk these days but few people are actually living up to their own rhetoric. Myself included.

A quick google search turned up some interesting results... Here's one Last time I was there we camped off the side of the road 1/2 mile up from Skull Hollow. As we were getting ready to leave fairly late the next morning a very polite woman, driving a FS truck, timidly informed us that where we had slept the night before was not a camp site and we couldn't stay there anymore. She was happy to give us her name as well as that of her supervisor. She encouraged us to contact her supervisor directly and let her know how we felt about the closures. She never directly voiced an opinion however she made it quite clear that she thought the management of the public lands by private companies was bullshit. I got the impression that the owners of Skull Hollow complained about the camping up the road from them as it was stealing revenue and thus yet another ban on tossing your tent down in the dirt on your public land to satisfy the profit column for the owners of Audd and Di. She also informed us that all camp sites were closed, up that road, until you crossed the "watering trough". The next night we just went further up that road and found ourselves another little spot. I'm sure they will soon close that area too but as of two weeks ago there were people in just about every available turn off and flat spot with a fire ring up that road. Business at Skull Hollow seemed to be booming for Aud and Di as well! in case you missed it the last time I posted it... here it is again

Sorry to say this Kev but for all the shit you post on this site talking about how screwed up things are right now, I find it amazing that you are staying at Skull Hollow and choosing to pay money to a PRIVATE company to use PUBLIC land. Your choice I guess and I'm sure it'll be easier with the kiddo's now that they've made it all safe and sanitary over there amongst the dirt and the sage brush. Got rid of those "druggy climbers" and I hear they're cracking down on the drum circles too. Thanks for encouraging the state to privatize our public lands.

'nuff said

Did this happen early Sunday afternoon? We were heading over asterisk pass when we heard the impact. Since we didn't hear any screaming we figured no one was hurt but that fucker sounded like a bomb when it hit. It scared the shit out of us.

Just climbed Rattlesnake Chimney this last weekend. Watt's only gives it one star in the new guide but I'd beg to differ. I thought it was a blast. You can link both pitches with a 60 (barely) although the rope drag gets to be a bit of a pain. It's a little dirty but your belayer will have a nice big overhang to hide under and you'll feel heroic clanging your hexes around in the Dihedrals while you are surrounded by noobers trying to thrutch their way up Bunny Face! Go do it. It's easier than a prom queen and takes bombzer gear all the way.

The rock is always dry at Smith

Ask these folks. They own the contract with the BLM for the rights to do whatever they want to with it. Or so it would seem. These are the people that are managing our public lands for us. I feel so blessed.

So if I'm understanding your post correctly is seems you are looking for people with few, if any, climbing skills to put their lives in your hands and give you total control over all decisions regarding the climb, so that you can gain the experience to confidently claim to people that they can put their lives in your hands and you should be given total control over all decisions regarding the climb. Perhaps I've misread it? I understand what you are trying to do and certainly don't mean to offend with my questions, however complete noobers to this game most likely don't even have the ability to judge their own skills, let alone the abilities of a total stranger they met on the tubes. Until you are actually certified I'd think that you should be "practicing" with people who know a little more than how to tie into a rope and belay. Perhaps posting this in the Partners forum, rather than trolling the Newbies forum, would be more appropriate. Again, I apologize if I've read too much into your post. Good luck with getting your badge.

I couldn't disagree with you more. Smith is an excellent place to learn to trad climb. Since it's not splitter cracks unless you're in the lower gorge you really have to learn how to place gear instead of just plugging cams. If you can confidently lead trad routes on the tuft you can lead just about anywhere at that grade. Good suggestions so far. You might also want to check out Sky Chimney 5.7 and perhaps one of my personal favorites Havana 5.7 (on the Red Wall). Havana is a little dirty but an excellent if not mostly ignored option right around the corner from Moscow. If you're new to the tuft just be sure to bring extra gear and sew it up. FWIW I'd recommend bringing a few hexes as they are often easier to get a solid placement with than cams in the knob filled cracks that you'll find all over the tuft.

looks safe to me looks a helluva a lot like the turkey monster, but it's not, is it? Pretty sure that vile beast is the turkey. I wonder if it got new bolts last weekend? Ahem...Tyler? If not when should I show up to help.

Although I don't usually find myself participating in drum circles perhaps those of you that are so bothered by them would prefer to camp at the much more quiet and sanitary climbers bivy that is all ready provided by the Park? Don't know why anyone would stay at Skull Hollow since last time I checked the PRIVATE "concessionaire" that has control of the PUBLIC land that Skull Hollow sits on is from Utah and couldn't give a good god damn about anything but making money. More Here

Spent the last couple days at Smith and at the end of the trip, between my partner and I, we were down one BD locker (left on top of the Monkey at sunset cause we were in a hurry) my watch on Moscow (dropped because we were in a hurry and I kept looking at it) and another locker on Sky Chimney (dropped because sometimes you get in a hurry and drop something) Total shit show really. At least we didn't drop each other. We don't deserve to get any of this stuff back because we both need to learn not to drop shit and clean our anchors properly but if anyone finds any of this stuff, please put it to good use.

Sounds like you're doing fine. If you have time before you flee the state the North Unit of TRNP is worth the drive to check it out. I've never seen that many wild animals in one place before. The little Missouri river and the Grasslands are truly awesome. Did you run into the herd of wild horses in the South Unit? I got to within about 25 yards of this big ol' stallion. I was thinking that the horses were either accustomed to people and they would let me pass or he would just move as I approached. Wrong. He decided that I was close enough and made it clear that he was a "wild" horse and that I should go around him. Humbling to have a horse dictate your route.

I went climbing at the columns in the Eug tonight and I just wanted to let you guys know that buckaroo is right. The drunk, jittery, homeless lady that was hanging out across the parking lot obviously thought I was some hot shit and certainly would have pro-created with me had I had the time (and $5). She was so impressed with my ascent of Bat Crack that she nearly spilled whatever was in her paper bag as I mantled onto the top of the column. As I looked down at my gear I realized that a: the route had enough sexy springy and clippy things in it that it looked like I had aided it and b: This woman obviously was attracted to me because I was Trad climbing. All the gear was just plain turning her on. The two shirtless 20 yr olds just looked at me with eyes full of awe and jealousy then quietly went back to their top roping. True story. Anyway...thanks for the response Off. Just to be clear. I wasn't advocating for anyone to be reprimanded or banned for anything. I think minimal moderation is the best policy. Let people say what they gotta say. Occasionally fights break out and you gotta break it up. The cattle are just gonna shit on the floor again anyway so let them wander around in their own filth. Especially spray. Serious question...I'm headed to Smith on Monday with a double rack. I was thinking about taking my bigger hexs as my doubles cause I think they're baller on the tuft and way lighter than cams in the bigger sizes, but now I'm reconsidering. I'm worried the constant clanging of the cowbells will attract woman seeking my Trad essence? I don't wanna get raped or even mildly accosted by some 5.13 nubbin tugging hotty. That would be unpleasant and it would really piss of my GF. Is it still safe to use cowbells? Maybe we'll just go sport climbing.

I didn't mean to imply otherwise. I personally couldn't care less about the bolt in question and don't have an opinion as to what should or shouldn't be done about it. Obviously others do and they have been told that they can't discuss it here. Just pointing out that the admins are quick to step into bolt discussions and lock them while they let some of the other shit show threads on this site go on and on. I wonder why the issues of bolts and bolting draws the eye of the admins while they ignore others? If people feel so strongly about bolts I would think that CC would encourage bolt discussion. Perhaps even give the subject it's own forum right below spray and let people have at it. Why do we have this urge to silence the discussion? Some may be tired of it but obviously others are not. It certainly qualifies as climbing related content. Whatever. I'm an idiot because yet again I'm sitting here wasting time on this site while I could be out learning how to set opposed RP's in flaring pin scars to ensure that we don't go the way of the dinosaurs.

Oh come on Off! I didn't mean to hurt your feelings! I actually think you do a damn good job being both an admin and a regular contributing member of this website. I like the fact that you have opinions and aren't afraid to throw them out there. I never said anything about wanting you removed and I have no wish to start a campaign against you. What I did want was for you to comment on why yet another bolt thread on CC was locked and/or shipped to spray where it will certainly devolve into just another mindless time suck and serve as the perfect platform for the regular crew of smart asses around here to stand on their soap boxes and toss out demeaning insults and entertain each other with mildly humorous comments. Thanks for commenting on your reasoning. I see things a little differently but I can appreciate the fact that what you are trying to do is keep this place from turning into rc.com. I don't find it one of the great injustices in the world and I doubt I'll be losing much sleep over the issue, however I was simply trying to point out (again) that the enforcement of the new "no personal attacks" policy seems to apply to some while not applying to others. Don't you find that odd? At least worthy of comment, in my opinon. I doubt that buckaroo was offended by your comments as he was probably too busy fighting off all the trad groupies trying to steal his seed to notice or care about what someone posted on the internet. Who's got time to get wrapped up in a little trivial matter like the internet when the future of the species depends upon your nested nut placements? Bolt? Ain't got time to bolt.

I was out hiking with my girlfriend for a few days and I come back only to find that I've missed out on 9 pages of yet another bolt thread on CC! To make matters worse the thread is locked and I'm unable to voice my very important opinion on this very important and special bolt that I've never seen. I couldn't really give a shit about this particular bolt but I do find it interesting that a thread that was staying mostly civil (considering it still is the internet) was ended and locked for what appeared to me to be no good reason. I thought the internet was about free flow of ideas? WTF else are all those tubes for? If people wanna bitch and argue about bolts why is CC trying to stop them? The new policy regarding personal attacks is an interesting one. Apparently the admins are having some trouble with it as well considering their inability to enforce this rule with anything resembling consistency. I'm convinced there is a list somewhere with the "made" cc users. Kevbone's probably got a copy by now since I know he's been looking for it as well. Seriously OFF, If people want to bitch about bolts why won't CC let them? I followed your advice and came here and found nothing resembling a bolt discussion but rather, whatever this thread is about. I was enjoying the strong opinions being exchanged by experienced climbers regarding an issue they feel very passionately involved in. The only people that were posting personal insults are the same hand full of people who tend to post nothing but sarcastic and personally demeaning posts yet instead of banning them the thread gets locked. Maybe I should just stop wasting so much time on this website and pay attention to things that actually matter.