(Photo: the opening moves on Te Dum)
It was still winter, technically, when I got my first Gunks opportunity of . But spring seemed to be in the air.The temperature had suddenly spiked up into the sixties. The internet hummed with reports of great early-season climbing.
I couldn't wait to get out there.
I was feeling pretty good. I was perhaps in better physical shape than ever before, and I'd been climbing well in the gym.
But it got colder as the the weekend began, and by the time my climbing day, Sunday,dawned, it felt like winter all over again. As I drove up to New Paltz with A and M, I watched as thethermometer on my dashboardreported the dropping temperature outside: 32, 31, 30...
It bottomed out at 28 degrees just before we hit Exit 18.
Whatever, I wasn't worried. The high was projected to be around 48 and I figured with the sun shining on the cliffs it would feel warm enough once we got into it. I suggested to my friends that we head to the Nears, where the classics are piled deep, one after another, at the northern end of the cliff, closest to the road. I was thinking of a couple good warm-ups for us. One was Alphonse, a 5.8 climb that'sreally a 5.6 for all but one move. Another was Te Dum, a 5.7 that I remembered as having only one 5.7 move on it:an exposed but easycrux step around a corner about two-thirds of the way to the top. I was eager to get started and I volunteered for the lead.
As we walked to the start of Te Dum we passed Broken Sling, a notorious 5.8 with a bouldery start and a poorly-protected thin traverse above. Like Pavlov's dog I started salivating at the thought of getting on that one. Then beneath our chosen climb I stared straight up at the crux downward-facing off-width that finishes the first pitch of Inverted Layback (5.9). Boy, I'd like to do that one soon, I thought. But first I have to knock off this easy 5.7.
We racked up and I headed skyward.
The climb starts just left of the back of an open book, at a wide vertical crack system that passes two ledges on the way to a third. At the third ledge, where the vertical crack system widens,you traverse to the right wall of the open book and head up past a few flakes to the crux move around a second corner. Once you make the thin move around the crux corner a few jugs usher you up to a small ledge where a tree used to have slings around it, forming an optional belay station. This tree has lost its largest branch and these days hardly seems suitable for belay duties; in any event the rest of the climb is 5.4 and short. A rising traverse takes you out from under the roof over your head and then it's a couple moves to the top. Best to do the whole thing in one pitch.
As I started the climb, worming up to the first little ledge, I realized Iwas actually feeling very rusty after our long, snowy winter. I wasn't used to real rock anymore, and neither my fingers nor my toes felt secure on the stone. Even though the sun was shining directly on the rock, it still felt cold to the touch, and it may have been irrational but I didn't feel confident that my grip on the holds was solid.
At the second little ledge, I found myself standing to the left of the vertical crack and couldn't figure out how tostep up. I had two pieces right there-- in fact, I'd placed four pieces of pro in about 10 feet-- but I confess I was starting to panic. I couldn't commit to the move. My fingers were feeling numb. I told myself this was just season-opening jitters and to go ahead and step up, but when (after what seemed an eternity)I finally did so I immediately slipped off the foothold and down to the ledge on the right side of the vertical crack, where I should have been standing in the first place. Now that I was standing two feet to the right of where I'd been standing amoment before, the move was obvious-- I'd fallen into the proper position. The rest of the climb went smoothly. The rock even started to warm up and by the time I got to the cruxI cruised through it, as I'd expected I would.
My verdict on Te Dum two years later: despite my jittery beginning, it's still, to my mind, an easy 5.7. The opening bit, up to where you move right, is a simple matter for anyone who isn't climbing (like me) with blinders on. Then a very easy and well-protected traverse (use the crack at the back of the open book for pro) leads to a couple nice moves up to the crux. One deep breath and a committing step will take you around the second corner to jugs and the optional belay. Then it's an exposed, 5.4 romp to the trees. A nice pitch, with more climbing on it than I remembered.
So much for starting the year feeling strong. I'd secretly hoped the Gunks 5.8s would feel ridiculously easy as the year began, but that's just not how it works, is it? You have to pay your dues year after year, make a few mistakes, get yourself a little scared, ask yourself why you're even contemplating this stupid sport. And then it all becomes fun again.
The rest of my day went much better. After myshaky performance on Te Dum I handed the lead over to A for Disneyland (5.6) and Alphonse (5.8), and these climbs did a lot to shake the slipperyfeeling off my fingers and toes. Then I took the lead for the first pitch of Yellow Ridge (5.7), which I'd never been on before, and felt absolutely fine about it. And then we hit Farewell to Arms (5.8), which A led and which I thought packed a ton of climbing intothe shortfirst pitch. This was not an easy 5.8, but I'll write more about that and our other climbs of the day in another post.
We ended our day with a rope up on To Be Or Not To Be (5.12), which none of the three of us could even begin to conquer. As we flailed away at it I couldn't take my eyes off of Birdland, just to the right, another 5.8 that has somehow eluded me these past couple years. I prefer roof climbs to face climbs, and Birdland is definitely in the face climb category, at least for its first pitch. But for some reason it just calls to me, and I'm going to jump on that sucker soon. Something about it just looks so appealing, and knocking it off my list early this year just seems like something I have to do. Assuming my jitters really are shaken off.
Connie and Me. Photo taken by her daughter. December 13, ...
Connie's grandson, Declan, was doing his best to stuff his hand in my mouth!He is such a cutie! Blonde hair, blue eyes, chubby cheeks. And so sweet.
This is the red and white Nauset Light, operational since 1837. It is a short but very hilly coastal ride from where we are staying. From Nauset Light, a narrow bicycle trail through the woods leads to a truly unusual sight: the Three Sisters.
The Three Sisters stand in a semicircle in clearing in the woods: three small, pristine-white lighhouses. My camera is not wide angle enough to capture all three together - but here are two of them, with the Co-Habitant cycling in between.
The site is so quiet and unexpected; it has an almost mystical quality to it. Here I am next to the Middle Sister.
Miles and Marianne in front of the smallest sister. The Three Sisters are the only station in the U.S. designated by three lighthouse towers. Read more about their history here.
We have finally hung the Motobecanes up on the wall and cleared up some floor-space in my art studio. Now there are "only" four bicycles there: the Pashleys and the vintage DL-1s. It is not a large studio by any means; I have no idea how we managed to store six bicycles there. At least now these two are suspended from hooks in the bedroom.
I think the Motobecanes look rather nice here. The door on the left is a closet, and yes the positioning of my mixte makes the closet impossible to open without taking the bike down. That is okay, because it is a long-term storage closet and we only open it occasionally. There was no other place to hang the bikes in the entire apartment; the rest of our wallspace is covered with book-cases.
We used common 5" threaded, ruberised hooks that you can easily find at any bike shop. They are intended for wood, and you need to be sure that you are screwing them into wooden beams and not drywall. Also, this probably goes without saying, but this method is not intended for extremely heavy bicycles, such as Dutch bikes or English Roadsters. Our vintage roadbikes are around 30lbs each, and I would not go much beyond that weight.
