24 Hours of Horseshoe Hell

About a month ago Thomas and I, along with our friends Derek and Dan, participated in a 24 hour climbing competition at Horseshoe Canyon Ranch in Arkansas, 24 Hours of Horseshoe Hell (24HHH). I realize a month is a long time and well outside the range of when something is still generally considered "bloggable." But today I spent more time than I care to admit looking at other people's climbing blogs and videos and got inspired. My aim here is simply to let people know about a really cool, unique event that, for some reason, seems to be somewhat overlooked in the Deep South.


The rules are fairly simple: climb as much as you can in 24 hours, preferably without stopping. That was our goal. We participated last year as well and were satisfied with our performance but also felt that we could have done more. We down-shifted too much during the evening hours--not knowing what to expect in attempting to climb through the night. At the end of last year's event I was all smiles and overwhelmed by how much fun the event had been. I couldn't wait to come back. Obviously, I hadn't worked hard enough. This year, I wanted to feel like I had done everything I could in the 24 hours.

The first few hours went fast. We were warming up on moderate routes and covering a lot of ground quickly. The primary goal for both of us was to climb many routes without sacrificing too much in difficulty. Basically our strategy was to stay on routes at a grade that we felt we could on-sight consistently and relatively quickly, and therefore not burn too much time deciphering any single route. I planned to spend most of my day in the 5.9 and easy 5.10 range while Thomas would climb up to 5.11. The day passed quickly and we kept up our steady and consistent pace. We ate energy bars as we belayed. One person pulled the rope while the other got into or out of climbing shoes. I filled out scorecards while Thomas scoped out the next route. We were both always doing something. The day was going the way we wanted. The challenge would be to keep it up through the evening.Climbing through the night is what makes this particular competition challenging but also so interesting. We maintained our pace relatively well through a good chunk of the evening. Every hour on the hour, someone would start a yell and it would make its way through the horseshoe shaped canyon in a verbal equivalent of the crowd's "wave" in a football stadium. Every hour it provided a shot of adrenaline. This was fun! Until about 3 a.m. At that point I really started to feel tired. We were in the most popular and densely concentrated part of the canyon and there seemed to be a line of people waiting to get on any routes in that area that we hadn't done. Frustration was setting in. I was getting cranky.

By 5 a.m. it was apparent that a change of scenery was required. We decided to burn some time getting to the other side of the canyon with the hope that it would be less crowded and would offer more for us to do. As we were trotting across by headlamp, after about 19 hours of continuous motion, moving away from the crowd and through the quiet night felt like a battery recharge. The other side of the canyon was still and almost empty of other competitors. Once again, we settled back into our rhythms.

Thomas did his final two pitches of 5.11 at around 8 a.m., after nearly 22 hours of continuous climbing. I did my last 5.10 at around the same time. As I struggled and grunted and futzed around at the last move, trying to find the energy, I heard Thomas yell up to me to just get up there and finish it. I did, and that was it. I knew I was done. We finished out with a few mellow pitches. My throbbing fingertips made grabbing each hold an unpleasant experience.

As we walked back to the campsite we passed a boulder and for a split second I thought, "I never want to touch rock again." I also didn't want to participate in 24HHH again. I was tired. Mission accomplished.

But the perspective is always different after a couple nights of good sleep and days of skin regrowth. I was proud of what we accomplished (102 routes for Thomas; 76 for me), but already interested to see if I could do more. The event offers such a unique opportunity to push your limits, in a setting of relatively low risk and commitment, while surrounded by other equally psyched and motivated climbers. I felt a sense of camaraderie with the other competitors, whether they were climbing 5.13 or 5.7, we were all striving for the same goal.

If you are interested in participating, I would highly recommend it. If you love that part of climbing associated with long days outside and feeling wrecked after giving your best, sustained effort, I know you won't be disappointed. And you'll likely see us out there again next year. Thomas sent me an email the day after we got back to Atlanta that said, "maybe just one more year..."

One More From California

Greetings, faithful friends. (If you are still reading these posts that is what you are.) After approximately 40 hours of continuous driving we arrived safely back in Atlanta on Sunday evening, just in time for Thomas to report for duty at school approximately 12 hours later. We certainly could have squeezed in a few more pitches if he hadn't so unreasonably requested that we get back the night before. Slacker.

We spent the last part of our trip in the Sierra and tackled two of the objectives that we had both been most attached to doing. The first of these was Matthes Crest.

This is a ridge climb in the Sierra and is purportedly over a mile long. You only have to climb a short way up to gain the ridge, and then, after that, you basically get to spend all day on the summit.

The ridge is not all fifth class climbing and involves a good bit of easier terrain. Sometimes we walked, sometimes we climbed, sometimes I scooted. (I never saw Thomas employing this particular technique. For those not familiar with it, it involves making forward progress while sitting. Yes, that is possible.)

The climb involves tremendous exposure, with sheer walls dropping off on either side. I had some concerns before the climb about how I would deal with this. Thomas on the other hand absolutely revels in it. He took the lead for most of the climb and as I followed, any time I heard him exclaim "Wahoo!" I knew it meant I was going to be scared when I arrived at that point. (Hence, the scooting.)

Overall, this was one of the best and most fun days of climbing I have ever had. Long days in the mountains are truly what it is all about. If you ever have the opportunity to do this climb, definitely go for it.

Our next big objective was the Incredible Hulk. This is a peak we had both been wanting to visit for quite some time, and it just so happened to have good climbs for both of us to lead. The Incredible Hulk is not particularly high--topping out at just over 11,000 feet--but according to folks in the know who climb in the Sierra a lot (and write guidebooks) it is supposed to have some of the best rock in the range.

We hiked in with stuff to spend a few days at the peak. On our first climbing day, we did Red Dihedral (10b) which goes up the right side of the face. The plan was for me to lead as much of the climb as I wanted and I could turn it over to Thomas at any point if I was tired or we were moving too slowly. He would allegedly do the same the next day. (Right--as if he was going to turn to me and say "We need to speed up. Take the lead!") I was hoping to just get through the two 5.10 pitches but, with a little encouragement I ended up leading the whole route cleanly.

The Red Dihedral (crux) pitch

Thomas following the fun splitter hand crack

It took longer than it should have and I did not always climb with the confidence I would have liked, but overall I was pleased with the effort. This was the climb that had motivated me the most in training for this trip and is the hardest and most sustained climb that I have led.

After a rest day, it was Thomas' turn on Positive Vibrations (11a). This route was simply amazing and Thomas, of course, did the whole route in good style. Each pitch literally seems to get better and better--provided you enjoy crack climbing.

Some fun stemming low on the route

Perfect splitters up high

And, a great ending


For both routes, getting to the summit requires tunneling through a chimney on the last pitch.

The Incredible Hulk was definitely a fitting end to the trip, giving us an opportunity to test ourselves after spending a good bit of time climbing long routes on granite.

Now we're back and, sadly, we've left that cool mountain air behind. Won't be needing that jacket anytime soon.

For anyone who's interested (but mostly for my own amusement), a few stats from our trip:

Miles driven: 5,300

Miles walked: 101

Pitches climbed: 123

Total feet climbed: 18,500

Energy bars: 93

Jars of peanut butter and nutella: 6.5

Bear sightings: 0

Zippers opened by bears: 3 (Yes, it's true. The bears in Yosemite have learned to open zippers on packs to look for goodies.)

Bakery visits: 4

Times we talked about bakery visits: Innumerable

Falls while lead climbing: 3 (all me)

Falls while walking: 3 (again, all me)

All in all, the trip was a great success! I have returned with a renewed enthusiasm for trad climbing and training and a greater appreciation of what is possible if I keep pushing myself.

The Needles

Greetings, friends. Last time I wrote we were getting ready to say goodbye to Yosemite. After a rest day, for our last day of climbing in the Valley, we both tackled some harder lines that we had been eyeing for a few days.

Thomas on a steep, sandbagged, and inappropriately named 11b at the Cookie Cliff

Moby Dick (10a) at the base of El Cap

Happy with our efforts and having maxed out the time limits for camping in the Valley we were ready to move on to the Needles. We had been talking for days about the drive that would take us through Bishop, California. Other than its proximity to lots of good climbing, there is one reason to visit the town of Bishop itself--the bakery. I had been scheming about what I would get there for days so when Google maps suggested an alternate route to the Needles that would save us about an hour but not take us through Bishop, I had some internal struggle as to whether I should even mention this fact to Thomas. Fortunately, we were on the same page. One extra hour for a wonderland of carbohydrates? Totally worth it!

Appropriately stocked with bread and donuts, we headed for the Needles, where the sign told us we were in the right place. For our chosen pasttime, finding the "end of the road" is typically a good thing.

The quiet of the Needles was a welcome change from the Disneyland-like atmosphere of Yosemite Valley. For those of you who have never been to the Needles, I could not recommend the place more highly. After a week there, with the opportunity to sample a good bit of climbing, the place is definitely in my "top five" and there are plenty of good climbs to justify a return visit.

A three mile hike from the campground gets you out to the Needles proper, where a beautiful landscape of steep granite covered in brilliant yellow lichen awaits. There is an intimidating and mysterious air about the place. To reflect this, climbers who developed the area have given the various formations befitting names such as the Sorcerer, the Charlatan, and the Wizard.

Since Thomas had been to the Needles before, he was appointed tour guide. And so, for my first climb at the Needles, selected the Pit and the Pendulum which culminates in a 5.10+ offwidth pitch. Perfect.

Fortunately, we'd put in our time on wide cracks in Yosemite and had our technique dialed. Thomas climbed up; I pulled through the crux on the gear that he placed.

The next day, I had the opportunity to lead my first climb at the Needles--Igor Unchained (5.9).

The climb follows the crack system to the sky, and after a few days observing, we decided that it sees about 90 percent of the traffic at the Needles. But, all the attention is certainly justified. What a great line.

The good climbing here is too numerous to list, but we spent our first four days climbing loads of good 5.9 and 5.10. Most of the climbs are two or three pitches and most of these pitches are LONG.

Thomas on Fancy Free (5.10)

Me leading the uber-fun second pitch of Spooky (5.9)

Thomas on Love Potion #9 (5.10a)

It is truly a beautiful area with beautiful climbing and a week was the perfect amount of time to spend there. It gave us a chance to really settle into the rhythm of the place.

Once again, we each had our eye on a line that would be challenging for us and we tackled these at the end of our week of climbing there, after we felt accustomed to the place.

Thomas on the Don Juan Wall (11b)

Thin Ice (10b)

Two beautiful lines that provided a perfect end to our time at the Needles--following splitter crack systems straight up to the summit. What more could a climber ask for? (Other than perfect summits in a remote setting, of course.)

We are headed north again, and hope to spend our remaining time doing some things in the backcountry, depending on how much snow has melted off in the mountains. Stay tuned!

Yosemite Wrap-up

Well, our time in Yosemite is drawing to a close. Two weeks have gone by quickly and we have exhausted the camping limitations imposed by the powers-that-be. As good as the climbing here has been, it will be nice to get away from the crowds and to a place more remote.

We spent the majority of the first part of our time here climbing on the Cathedral Rocks--Higher and Lower Cathedral Spire, and Higher, Lower and Middle Cathedral Rocks--we hit them all.

Higher and Lower Cathedral Rocks, seen from across the Valley

Since we'd been spending a good amount of time on long routes, we decided that a couple days of cragging and trying some harder things was in order. The Cookie Cliff is an area known for hard crack climbing that gave Thomas a chance to try some harder things and me a chance to toprope all the climbs he put up!

Warming up on Outer Limits (10b)

Thomas led the sustained pitches of Catchy (10d) and Catchy Corner (11a), and then we finished the day on a fun 3 pitch 5.9 called the Right Side of the Cookie. In the picture above, Thomas is leading the unprotected 5.8 chimney. Classic! Every climb in Yosemite seems to include at least a bit of wide crack climbing, just to keep you honest. (For my non-climbing friends, wide cracks are hard. Once a crack is wider than the size of your fist, your only real option is to jam as much of your body as will fit into the crack. Downside: progress is slow and difficult. Upside: you're unlikely to unexpectedly fall out.)

We spent the next day cragging at the base of El Cap. There are a number of shorter climbs here and you can climb at the base of this giant rock and spend all day looking up and deluding yourself that "it's really not that big; I could totally climb that." We started the day on a fun, 3 pitch 5.8 called Little John, Right, and then finished the day with a few single-pitch lines.

Starting up Little John, with the bulk of El Cap looming above

After a couple days of cragging it was time for another longer route. Neither Thomas nor I had been to Glacier Point Apron, which is known for slab/friction climbing, so we decided to spend Sunday checking the area out.

We started the day on an incredibly fun two-pitch 5.8 called Harry Daley while waiting for the crowds to clear on our main objective for the day.

Starting up Harry Daley

Our primary objective was a 7-pitch line up Goodrich Pinnacle (5.9R). The first few pitches followed crack systems, the kind of climbing we've been accustomed to over the past couple of weeks. However, midway through the fourth pitch the crack systems end and it becomes a pure slab/friction climb. (For my non-climber friends this means that the holds for your hands, essentially run out. Although the angle of the rock is not very steep, you really have to trust your feet and rely on the friction and careful placement of your feet, rather than pulling yourself up by your arms.)

Saying goodbye to the last crack system on Goodrich Pinnacle

This pitch is only rated 5.8 but it afforded one of those moments that reminds me why I climb. A few feet above the end of the crack/flake system that I had been following there was a bolt for the last bit of protection. Above that, there seemed to be a good distance of pure friction climbing in a rising traverse to the next flake system, which I knew would offer actual handholds and the next opportunity for protection. After clipping the bolt, I wavered for a minute. It would have been so easy to lower off that bolt and let Thomas take over the lead. But, I knew that it was well within my abilities, if I just stayed calm and focused.

There is an interesting paradox in trad climbing--when you are faced with potentially unpleasant consequences for failing to execute a particular series of movements correctly, your ability to successfully navigate through the difficulties is directly proportional to your ability to relax, execute the movements confidently, and not allow the potential adverse consequences to drain attention and focus from what the climbing requires you to do. Don't think about the fall and you are significantly more likely to make it through the difficulties without taking that fall. Even though I know this in my mind, it's still hard to execute. But for me, it happened yesterday on that pitch. I controlled my thoughts, I focused on the rock, I placed each foot precisely, I measured my breaths, and I came through successfully. Even though, to most experienced climbers, the difficulties were modest and trivial and would not merit a second thought, to me it was a beautiful thing. It just felt great.

But enough about that, it wasn't even the crux of the route--which I made Thomas lead:

Just another day in paradise! One more day of climbing on the steep granite here and then we leave for the Needles, a place I have been hoping to visit for several years now.

Yosemite!

Greetings, dear and faithful readers. Yes, I still have a blog. Apparently, the long-suffering folks at blogger.com will let you keep your blog, even if you haven't posted in 15 months. It has been a long time, and I am back on the road. As this provides more interesting fodder for blogging, I figured I would start posting up again.

Thomas and I just recently set off for five weeks in California. The first stop is Yosemite National Park. We loaded up the clown car and hit the road!
Approximately 30 hours of driving later, after taking turns driving and sleeping (uncomfortably) in the passenger seat, we arrived for a brief stop in Flagstaff, Arizona. We had the chance to spend the night there and catch up with great friends, Cris and Dave, have lunch with Mom and Dad, and briefly sample the bouldering at Priest Draw.

The original plan was to spend a few days in Flagstaff, but the high temperatures and the proximity to Yosemite Valley were luring us onward. We decided to press on and get ourselves established in the Valley before the Fourth of July hullabaloo kicked into high gear. This proved to be a good call. What a zoo! We arrived in the Valley in the wee hours of the morning and I immediately jumped in line for a spot at Camp 4, the historic climber campground and the only campground in the Valley for walk-ins.

We managed to get a spot and, due to a combination of sleepiness and uncooperative weather, spent the next couple of days cragging and enjoying a nice walk up to Yosemite Falls.

After a time of resting and catching up on sleep, we decided our first long route would be Higher Cathedral Spire, which just happens to be the highest free-standing pinnacle in North America, woo hoo.

The rock on the route is uncharacteristically bad by Yosemite standards, but the historical value of the route and the awesome summit, made it absolutely worth the effort:

Evidence of climbers past. Not to worry, Mom, we didn't have to rely on these for protection.

A great first summit and welcome back to the Valley!

Our climb on Higher Cathedral Spire, afforded great views of a line on neighboring Higher Cathedral Rock which we set as our objective for the next day--Braille Book, a 700' 5.8. The climb followed a wide crack in an open book corner system and proved to be great fun.

Thomas led us through a fun 5.10 hand crack and stemming variation that added to the quality of the route:

Because the Cathedral Rocks were treating us so well, we decided the next day's objective would be South by Southwest (11a) on Lower Cathedral Spire.

The route involved a LONG approach, made longer by our failure to carefully read the guidebook's approach instructions and instead "following our intuition" to the wrong side of the formation. There was also a lot of jumbly climbing required to reach the "money pitch," which involved a fun and powerful finger crack sequence followed by a long and sustained hand crack in a corner.

Once again, the summit was worth all the effort and simply awesome:

For Independence Day, we opted for a route that was likely to see less traffic and help us avoid the crowds. We settled on the Kor-Beck route (5.9) on Middle Cathedral Rock. We were sold on this route after reading the guidebook's introductory statement: "slightly awkward and technical in that classic Yosemite way." Bring it!

The climb lived up to its billing and 600 feet of wide crack climbing later, we were tired out. Climbing wide cracks is hard work!

Yosemite is amazing, and sometimes I need to remind myself of that when I get caught up in the mess of the crowds and the often Disneyland-esque atmosphere of the place on the Valley floor. As a climber, this place is full of history and the opportunity to test oneself against the feats of the greats of the past. So far, in all honesty, I have been disappointed in my own efforts as I have struggled to settle into that comfortable mental state that comes from climbing lots of rock and being comfortable in one's abilities. Fortunately, there's plenty of time and an abundance of rock to continue to seek out that "flow" that makes climbing such a unique and unparalleled experience.