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From: tbubb@aol.com (Tbubb)
Newsgroups: rec.climbing
Subject: Part 2 (of 2) of Seneca/Red Rocks Trip Report (long)
Date: 20 Jul 1995 03:53:29 -0400
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Part II of "WHAT I DID WITH MY SUMMER VACATION"

 PART II of II

We hit the gear at the top of pitch 18, and I began rapping with the pig.
We'd sipped the last of our water, and figured on going thirsty for a
while. 
We were down to the top of the black tower at 7:00 or so, and were 
moving full-tilt.  I realized at that point that we would be getting down 
in the dark.  Rapping down past the black tower, we knew that there 
would be trouble if the belay we'd missed on the way up was indeed
not there.  I kept going further down, trying to find it.  No, indeed it
was
not there.  I built a belay at the bottom of the rope, with 3 feet to
spare,
and hung on it.  John rapped down to join me, and we left a few pieces 
(#8 wallnut (mine) and a .5 tricam (booty we'd found) as an anchor with 
some booty slings and biners we got before.  I bailed down to the next
anchor we new existed, and we got back on route.  Coming past the 
first bit of chimney (I think it was pitch #4), I shot past a natural
anchor
missed in the dark, but was in a secure chimney, so I stuffed the pig 
in and braced my self for a long wait.  I went offf rap (shoulders locked 
into the chimney) and waited for john to rap to teh intended anchor and
re-set teh rope, and rap to me, soi I could  get back on rap.  We were 
OK after that, though the bottom 2 pitches are hard to find in the dark.
We improvised a rap to the base, reaching terra firma at 1:45am.  John 
found the packs, and began de-booting.  Hungry and thirsty, we wasted
no time hiking out.  We reached the car at 2:50am, stumbling like fools.
We drank about 1 gallon of water and passed out in the car, exhausted,
dehydrated, and pleased as pie.
       Sun: We awoke at 6am, when the desert sun warmed the car.  
We drove into Vegas to get showers (first), and then some brunch at
the Rio ($4 or so) we stayed for dinner.  Getting in the shower was
intereresting...I flexed my tummy to see what I looked like.   I was 
so thin and dehydrated that I looked like I had an exoskeleton.  I was 
down below 150lbs (I bulked up to 160 before the trip, knowing I would
need some stores of fat).  I was starting to look like one of those french
sport-pups... The hotel at Fergessons was $22.  They had special 
climbers' rates.  John and I went for a King-sized bed in preferance to 
paying an extra $5 for two singles.  Heck, we're both confident of our
heterosexuality, so it was no big deal.  
        Monday: The next day I couldn't get John out of bed.  I woke 
him up exactly nine times between 9am and 11am, and he kept 
saying: "I'm getting up".  The last time... 
John:  "How do you wake up so fast?"  
Me : "Well, I wake up, put my feet on the ground, and stand on them.  
           If I start to fall back asleap, I wake back up REALLY fast."  
John: "It's a concept."  
Me :  "It is *_NOT_* a concept, it is and action, now get OUT of bed 
           and get dressed!!!"
John: "OK, I'm getting up..." 
I went into the bathroom to pee, and when I came back out, he was 
snoring lightly.  It was 11am, I gave up.  I'd tried everything short of 
shock therapy, and my temper was wearing too thin to deal with him, 
so I took a shower and went back to bed.  Finally, around 1pm, he woke 
up on his own, and got up.  He said he didn't remember me waking him
except for once.  I guess I am the one who only needs to sleep 5 hours
per night.  He's unhappy on less than 10.  In that respect, he's a lousy
partner, other than that, he's really cool.  The day was pretty well shot,
and John and I were both in rag-tag shape, so we called it a rest-day, 
and went in for another Rio lunch (and stayed for dinner, again) and did
laundry, wrote letters, went to Kinko's to mail, etc... We did a little
gambling and drinking (if you sit at teh nickle slots putting one in every

five minutes, so as to appear as  if you were there to gamble, the drinks 
are free. I lost $4, and John made $13, but hey, $4 for 5 drinks, not bad.
They keep good liquer there too.  We returned to Black Velvet canyon
 for another night of sleep.
         Tuesday:  We got a late start, getting up at 9am, and drove back 
to the parking for Crymson Crysalis.  John and I were eager for this one, 
as Rock and Ice had just published a big article on how nice it was.  
We started the hike back with a couple of others, one of which severly
misdirected us... it was appearent later (on the way back we came the
RIGHT way) that he had no clue what he was talking about.  He should 
have kept his yap closed.   John and I eventually reached the base of 
the climb, just after a few other parties, at about Noon, a 2.5 hour hike 
in, on a sweltering sunny day.  We got on route as the party in front of 
us (Germans) reached the third pitch.  A pair of Gunkies did likewise 
behind us.  The first pitch was supposed to be 5.8+, 140'.  I did it on 3
pieces of gear and brought John up.  As we switch leades at the belay 
we discussed (again) how over-rated the climb was.  John told me that 
the party behind us had expressed concern about my leading style, to 
which he responded "Tony is pretty solid on 5.8."  They asked him how
I felt on 5.8+ (stressing the PLUS).  John said:  "Here he's pretty solid 
on 5.10+." (stressing the PLUS)  "Oh..." they said: "Are the ratings the
same here as out east?"  That explains the bursts of laughter I heard 
coming from the ground as I reached the belay.  The pitches were  
dropping below us at frightening speed.  We were skipping alot of gear
in an interest of time.  On pitch three I did, however, make a very
special 
placement.  I rid myself of the #5 SMC camlock I'd cleaned as booty
from another climb 3 years previous, and had never placed since.  John 
and I planned to leave it, hoping some poor sucker would do what I did, 
and carry it for years before realizing that it's good for nothing...  We 
thought that starting the climb at 1pm, just as shade covered the wall 
was a great idea, until we felt a few drops of something that resembled 
rain on the 4th pitch.  John and I agreed that we were able to bail from 
anywhere, and since we had our Gore-tex, would keep climbing through 
it unless the rock started getting really wet.  As we reached pitch 6, 
the clouds darkened.  I started telling John to hurry.  I knocked off the 
next two pitches in ten minutes each, 15 counting climbing time for the 
second.  John did likewise as we reached the top of pitch #8.  In a long 
involved story I won't bother going in to, I untangled a stuck rope for a 
stranded party that was rapping through on one of those pitches.  They 
later returned the favor in another way (details later).  I thought the
route
was getting a little contrived and boring on the last two pitches ( that 
was #8 & #9), so rather than follow the wandering line of bolts, I 
got out the smallest nuts I could find and some small tricams, and 
shot straight up the face runing it out a bit here and there to the 
anchors.  The rain had begun, and I was ready to get off, but wanted 
to summit, so I went for it like that.  By the time John made it up, it 
was raining pretty good. There is a bit of a crack at the top that can add
a tenth pitch.  Not as interesting as it appears to be from below though.
Don't bother with it, sorry I did.   We were wet and had 1100' of rap to
get 
back down.  Our gear was going to be soaked!!!  We went on down, 
with my old beat-up rope, and john's non-dry soaking in so much 
water that rapping with an ATC made a constant stream of water 
wring out of it and onto our laps.  When we reached teh base we
looked like drowned rats.  A pleasant surprise awaited us though...
The party I'd untangled the stuck rope for had done three things for us:
#1 Turned our boots up-side-down and tuck our socks in them, saving
      us a sloshy and uncomfortable walk back (great!)
#2 Packed our gear and put the packs on to of the boots, zipped up,
     with the covers on, so they would stay dry (great!)
#3 Cleaned and left behind on top of our gear, the SMC camlock I was
     trying so hard to ditch (damn!)
Oh well, 2 out of three weren't bad...
We hiked outr just as the rain stopped, finding the trail pleasant, 
compared to what we went through to get there.  Along the way we 
discussed the what we were going to do if we could locate the butt-
crack that had misdirected us to begin with.  We decided we'd wait
on him if his car was there and yell at him, telling him that Crimson
Crysalis was as nice of a route as he discribed, and that he really 
should go do it someday if he planned to keep giving people beta for  
it...  We hit the cars at 6pm having climbed 1100', rapped it, and 
hiked out over 2 miles of rough trail and cacti in under 5 hours.  We
once again felt assured of our level there.  The rain began again, so
we returned to the Hotel for another night of sleep.
       Wednesday we slept in and went into the Rio for a $4 Lunch/dinner,
then to the grocery, and back to the hotel.  It was raining, so what was
the use.  Like I said, sport-climbing there was boring.  We did take a 
hike though, back around the quary area, to find more junk rock and 
pebbles.  Why would anyone climb there instead of the Red???
      Thursday the weather looked threatening, but no rain was falling, so

John and I headed back to Black Velvet Canyon.  We did a few shorter
all gear routes that people had told us were good, I needed a good,
solid trad fix. (I have a crack problem, I freely admit.)  First we
started 
with Tiassic Sands (200', 5.10+)  The route starts with a nice easy 
pitch of 5.6 to a ledge.  (Book gives it 5.8, I think)  John lead up no 
problemo, and brought me to the ledge.  I headed out left to lead the 
second pitch.  The second pitch starts with an airy insecure "roof move",
on decient pro.  I had to do a lay-back out of a strange stem to pull up 
into it.  The counter-force for the said move came in part from my putting

my head back against the dihedral and pushing.  Ahh, the famous 'head-
jam'...  The rest of the climb was not nearly as hard, & was filled with 
FANTASTIC three-star jams.  The route gobbled pro.  It was almost as
nice to protect as it was to climb!  Bomber gear at every desired place.
It was also the first climb I'd done that was solid at it's rated grade. 
We 
planned to climb Mazatlan next, but there were some people dogging 
on Izatlan, just a few feet right of that, and I hate noisy crowds, so we
went over to some new sport route, one that had appearantly been put 
up in the last few weeks.  It was just 100' or so right of Mazatlan.  It
was 
about 130' tall, and kinda had some distance between the bolts.  John 
lead it giving it 5.10c.  I agreed with that.  It was an interesting route
as
well.  I'd give it a star or two better than the routes at The Gallery or
The
Wall of Confusion.  After completeing that route, we saw that Mazatlan 
(5.10+, 110') had opened up.  Going Over, John racked up and started 
leading up.  "Sure is thin" he said, backing down from the crux, 12 feet
offf of the ground for the third time.  "Should have brought some brass 
up Tony."  he said while backing down the fourth time.  "Would you 
mind leading this?", he said while backing down the fifth time.  We 
switched ends and I got up there, in my blown-out, tire-patched 4 year-
old lynxes (I only boulder in them).  "Sure is thin"  I said, backing off 
the first time, eyeing the loose rocks below.  The crimpers were not
crimpers after all, they were smedges, slopeing smedges, and they 
sucked.  The crack was too thin for any of the pro we'd brought up 
that day.  ( #1 RP's would sew it up)  "When in doubt, Run it out!" I
said as I headed back up.  "Spot me!" a few shakey moves later I 
was in a good stance ready to put a few stoppers in a more reasonable 
crack, 20' off of the deck.  The rest of the climb was a 5.8 to 5.9
pleasure
cruise, with two more 5.10- cruxes.  Once again, we felt that this climb 
was more solid at it's grade than the other climbs we'd done.  Both 
Triassic sands and Mazatlan were graded much more strictly than any 
of the other routes we'd attempted at Red Rocks.  They were both nice 
routes though John fell on Mazatlan when a sucker hold broke off in his
hand.  Well, at least nobody else will ever grab it by mistake.  Since the

weather was getting questionable, we headed back to the base & camped.
      Wednesday we'd planned on doing Leavitation 29 (5.11, 600', trad). 
Awaking to a 100 degree day, we were told that the route gets some sun, 
and has a  2.5 hour approach.  We bagged those plans instantly.  I called
Zion and found out that the park would reopen the next day, so John and I 
debated the relative pros and cons of bagging another route.  We finally 
decided, on the flip of a coin, to climb instead of drive that day.  The
route
would be Fiddler On the Roof.  We racked up, noting the "R" ratings on a 
few pitches, complete with brass nuts this time and headed for Black 
Velvet Canyon for the last time.  Again, we would be in the shade.  At the
base we scoped the Topo, noting a few things.  #1, the first two pitches
were only 190' combined.  They could be run into one pitch with my 60 
meter rope.  #2, the third pitch was 5.10R.  #3, the fourth pitch was
5.10+,
but not as 'R'un-out.  John expressed his interest in doing the 10R pitch:
J: "You know, I want that third, ehr, second pitch."
I responded:
T:  "You nuts?  That's 5.10R.  You never lead a 10*R* before!"
J:  "Look, the route is at a 45 degree angle, above a 12' roof.  A fall
      would be big air, but there's nothing to hit the whole way!"
T:  "Yeah, but why take the winger?"
J:  "I haven't fallen on a 5.10 this whole trip, You KNOW the grades 
     are sofe here."
T:  "And I suppose you'd have lead Triassic Sands?"
J:  "Maybe, Maybe not, but here there's nothing to hit!  Besides, 
      I SURE don't want the next pitch"
T:  "I could lead both."
J:   (Looks daggers at me)  "Forget about it, it ain't gonna happen!"
T:  "Well, OK.  Here, take this with you" I said, clipping a jumar to 
      his belt.  "You'll need this to get back on the route if you do
fall."

I lead up the tricky thin slab at the base, getting up to the first belay.
 
There I clipped one sling to the belay for pro and continued into "The 
Gobbler."  The Gobbler is a flaring  5.10- Chimney and obtuse arrette
that has a thin seam at the back of it.  The pitch employs every trick
some climbing tramp would know for gear and for vertical progress.  I
could see some big-time sport-slimer splats happening there.  Would
not be pretty for someone used to the gym.  I reached the belay just
as the rope going down to John went tight.  He'd had to take me off 
belay and just rely on his mass (tied in) for the brake, so I could reach.
After he bouldered up a few moves, I belayed him up, without incident.
John's a pretty F%$#ing good climber, just a little shakey on trad leads
above 5.10.  He stopped at the belay and picked up the rack I still had.
"Up there?" he pointed at the bolt 15' above me.  "Yup" I siad.  "That 
doesn't look so scarey!" he said as he started up.  Clipping the first 
bolts, two of 5 on the 120' pitch, he began traversing the route.  "Uh, 
this is pretty exposed."  He said, placing a #1 DMM Wallnut past the 
bolt, and a Red (#1) Tricam above it.  Next thing I heard was: "This 
tricam is crap, but it might slow me down."  I asked about the nut 
below it.  "As solid as a #1 Wallnut is gonna get." said John, "Besides,
I don't have any more choises.  That is it.  Fiddler On the Roof traverses

out above a HUGE roof after that point, and John was following the line.
"I see another bolt in about 20 feet." John said, making slow progress,
and already 25 feet out from his last piece of gear.  "I'm going for it,
there
is no pro yet."  about 10 feet later, John was 35 feet above me, 25' above

his last piece, and 30 feet to the side of it.  "Watch me, I see where I 
can get in some gear, I am heading for it."  I saw where he was headed,
it looked like there were some cracks to slap some quick cams into.  
"Watch me!"  I fead out a five feet of slack and wraped the rope around 
my hand and sqeezed tightly.  "WATCH... WATCH ME!!"  I heard again,
as John made a foot of progress.  I slacked out a few more feet, certain 
that he was going to peel off and have a MONSTER PENDULUM.  My 
hand tightened up on the rope.  "I have you John, go get it man!"  The
next thing I saw was a shaking foot pop off.  I leaned into my stance 
and unclipped the anchor holding me down (so I wouldn't shock-load 
John) just as the blood curdling scream began.  I never knew before 
what sound a man would make when he is certain that he is going to 
die, now I do.  A few seconds later, the rope slammed tight, and I was 
lifted, but then I was falling, and the scream stopped.  Again the rope
went tight and I was lifted, and was hanging 3'  above where I'd been.  
I let some rope through the belay to lower down and re-clipped to my 
origional stance and anchor.  The scream had not bothered me, but 
it's sudden end did.  

"John??!?!" I said.  A few seconds later: "JOHN???"
"Yeah Bubb?"
"Are you ok?"  (no response)   "ARE YOU OK?"
"Uh, I think so" came back the response slowly.
T:  "Did you hit anything?"
J:  "Yeah"
T:  "Well, tell me about it!"
J:   "I pendulemed into the bottom of the roof.  I stopped myself
      with my hand, now it hurts."  (a brief pause)  "I can finish the 
      climb, but you have to lead the rest.  I want to sit here for a bit,
      I'm very tierd."
T:  "No way."  Put the jumar on the rope, and use the cordilette as
     a prussik, I want you back HERE, at the belay."
J:   "I can finish the route if you lead"
(John is very bull-headed, plus, he really tries not to 'let me down,')
T:  "We can discuss that later, get back up here for the time being,
     and DON'T use that hand."  
     John was hanging 20' down from me, & 30' out to my right, 20' from 
the nearest rock to be had.  He also sounded like he was going into 
shock, the slowness of his responses and the tiredness he'd described, 
as well as the sudden end to his scream were all dead give-aways to 
me.  I wondered if he'd bumped his head, and wanted him back in my 
control as soon as possible, before anything REALLY bad could happen.
There was not enough rope to lower him to the ground, so I used the 
second rope (which I'd had him tie into as well, just in case) to bring 
him back to the belay after he'd Jumared up.  The tricam had blown out, 
and he was hanging off of a #1 Wallnut (amazing).  We abandoned that
piece and the stuff on the bolts.  When a person might be injured, F%$#
the rack, it doesn't matter.  I got him back at the belay and asked him 
about his hand again.  "It really hurts bad."  Oh uh.  No visible breaks, 
that's good I thought.  He was acting funny though.  I started setting up 
for the rap.  I was clipping all sorts of things everywhere when John
said:
"Boy, You're making a C.F."  (our loving abbreviation for the term
"Cluster-
F$#@")  "F&^% all you want, we have more" I responded.  At that time
I was trying to get a rope out of the Gobbler, where it was stuck.  A
second part that had been rapping off of Wild Turkies dropped some 
ropes past us:
"We are rapping through." they shouted.  
"No Go!" I answered, "Injured party"
Second Party: "Are you OK???"  
Me:  "Just a hand injury, we are bailing off."
SP:  "Do you need assistance"
Me:  "Just one injured, we are in control.  please wait until we are
clear."
SP :  "No problem, let us know"

A few miutes later we were on rap and let the second party know.  I put 
John's ATC on, then Mine below it.  He wouldn't have to do any work that 
way, and use his hurt hand.  I rapped first, with my weight locking him
off.
When I reached the ground I was able to bring him down on a fireman's 
break.  As soon as we hit the ground I had him put his arm down in a big 
shaded spot of water in the streem that felt cold,  We'd not had a cold-
compress with us that day, and had a 45 minute hike out.  I checked over
John's head and body for other dammage.  He was OK, save the hand,
and two parellel bruises on his forehead where the tricam had slid down 
the rope and bopped him.  (Same thing that happened to Hans Barsun
a few years ago, I had to laugh.)  "Adding insult to injury!" I said,
"You'll
see this later."  John looked at me, clearly puzzled.  (he got it as soon 
as we reached the car...)  The second party arrived meanwhile, and 
volunteered to help us get the gear down to the car.  My pack was over-
loaded since I wouldn't let John carry anything.  I was certain that his
hand was the only problem at that point, but I didn't want him loosing 
balance and making it worse, falling on the rough trail out.
      We arrived at the car and headed into Vegas to the "Quick-Med" or 
whatever it was.  At 6pm on a Friday, your options are limited, and I
didn't want him sitting around at an ER for 3 hours waiting on help.
Naturally, it was a hiking injury, not a climbing injury, so asd to avoid
insurance problems, liability problems, and bad climbing press.  I 
STRONGLY recommend anyone who's injured climbing say that
they "slipped off the trail" if injured, while still accurately depicting
the
way that the injury occured, so as not to muddle the diagnosis.
We got there and got good help quickly.  The hand was broke, kinda
badly.  The swelling prevnted them from putting on a cast.  They 
splinted the arm and sent us packing home.  It was 9:30pm by the time
we were on out way.  I drove home with a Radar Detector AND an 
excuse for speeding. (look, he's injured, I'm on the way to a hospital
officer!!!)  I arrived in Fort Wayne, IN, at 6am (Las Vegas Time) the 
day after the next.  32 hours Vegas to Fort Wayne.  I keep hearing
that it's a 48 hour drive...  NAHHHH!, it would have been 30 if I didn't 
need the 2 hour nap!  After John went to a specialist, he got a 1.5"
screw put in his bone, and is out for 12-16 weeks.  He'll be OK in
time though.

      The trip was over, but I had more time, so I called up Mindy and 
we headed back down to Red River Gorge.  Once she left I asked 
her to leave me behind, no car, no partner, no nothing.  I did have 
plenty of food, a good pack, and a sleeping bag though.  I spent the 
next 3 weeks at Red River until Casey, an X-S.O. of mine, came 
down to get me.  In the meen time I climbed with about 20 different 
gangs of people.  Some from Canada, some form Tennesee, Illinios, 
North Carolina, Ohio, Indiana, Wisconsin, Virginia, and all over the 
USA...  Thank you all for the rides to the crags. I had fun!  We did
everything from Bolted 5.7's to Trad 5.12's, and I loved every minute of
it! 

If you live in the Mid-west, I'll be doing a few slide shows in the area
in July.  Write me if you are interested, and I'll give you times/dates.

-T.