28 April, Fortress with a new friend, and an error

Kerry & I didn't have any guys with us two weekends ago, which meant that if we camped, there was a much lower probability of having a fire and coffee. Being somewhat spoiled and wimpy, we decided to stay at True North, where we did not need a fire and were fed delicious eggs, coffee and orange juice for breakfast.

I love True North, so I snapped a few photos the next morning. The above is one view from the loft.

And below you see is what happens when the bacon grease meets the morning sun coming in the windows. I don't eat dead pigs, but I do see the magic that they can create.

While we were there we met a trad climber named Ken from Colorado. He was in Louisville for business and, having no rack with him and no awareness of the nearby trad routes, had decided to hire one of my favorite TN Guides, Jake, to take him out for sport climbing lessons. They had been out all day together when we arrived Saturday night.



This is Ken looking sexy but out-of-order.

Jake had only good things to say about Ken, so we teamed up with him on Sunday for a day at Fortress.

This is Ken after we were kind enough to let him lead Calypso 2 for us. He thought it was a bit harder than a 5.6. We all do the first time.

After that, we let him lead Bedtime for Bonzo. That's Kerry following the first pitch. Some girls from Indiana had gotten their rope stuck up top and were waiting at the bottom for us to free it. Kerry climbed last, but they were there to shoot her looking way cool here. I try not to lay this back like she is, forgetting how tough it makes one look.



Here Ken & I are at the top of the first pitch.

That's me belaying Ken as he starts the second pitch. Kerry took a video of this. Apparently I told Ken to call out for his mother at one point. I might not be the nicest belayer.


That's me on the second pitch. Looking tough, but only because my feet are on a wide ledge. Tough or not, I finally got both pitches clean on the follow. Or, except I grabbed a cam on the second pitch. It was a very loose cam though so I'm sure it didn't help me much. ;-)

If you can't make fun of your own fly-away hair, what fun is life? This photo completely cracks me up, but also shows me at my favorite part of a multi-pitch climb: the top. I have another...

Fractional happy people up top. (That's Ken's foot. I swear!)


But then! I rapped last and
uh
left
my
gear
sling
at
the
top.

With
most
of
my
gear
on
it.

It was a serious mistake. Ken was expected in Louisville at any moment; the sun was starting to set; we all had to be at least two hours away for work the next day; and we didn't really have enough gear to re-lead the route anyway. I was considering a steep and unorthodox scramble that probably had loose rock and, at best, would have put me at the bottom of the second pitch. The second pitch has a very thin but long traverse that one cannot protect, at the end of which is a crack which takes, to be safe, two #3 C4s. And one of our #3s was at the top of the route. To boot, I had just gone on a rant about how I could never have led that pitch -- it's too scary. But when weighed against the loss of half my rack, I was willing to consider it.

Ken went on a hunt for a walk-off. He couldn't find one, but while he was away it occurred to me that this was exactly like the beginning of one of those stupid tragedies you read about, in which one mistake leads to more bad choices, the effects of which then snowball until your hero is killed in three different ways simultaneously and nobody ever finds his corpse. I told Ken and Kerry to pretend that I had accidentally put $250 in cash down at the top of the cliff, and that it had already blown away. If there was nothing up there, there was no reason for us to try to go up without enough gear, or time, or daylight. (Of course, as it turns out I left way more than $250 worth of gear.)

I considered leaving a note that read something like, "Yes, I am the idiot. Please don't steal my gear? Here is my number." But we weren't sure that it wouldn't attract thieves instead of inspiring climbers to be kind. Plus we had no pen.

Then we remembered Jake.



Dear Jake, of lovely True North.

He got my gear back. And yes I do love him for it! But that's his story -- and his girlfriend's. I was two hours away in front of a desk, staring out the window. Nervously.